#He's a real bo- I mean Knight

[mambadou]

Can we just give it up to the entire cast this episode, Ame delegating with Steel and telling her Eursulon is a spirit, Suvi showing how she kept her secrets for so long to keep her fiends safe, Brennan absolutely hitting it out of the park as Steel, and Eursolon's desparation to save Naram. AND THAT'S ONLY THE FIRST HALF!

Bear cub Eursulon is just the cutest thing, and I think Brennan created one of my favourite NPCs in Naram. And that final scene! He's not a cub anymore, he's a certified Knight! Can't wait for the Fireside next week, this episode was 100% worth the wait.

[technoturian]

Regardless of my feelings about the BoS as a whole in the Fallout series, Maximus as a character exceeded all my expectations.

Maximus, honestly, to me, was the most nuanced and best acted character in the series. His situations were fantastical and yet the way he reacted to it all was so grounded. He was like a prestige drama character in a series full of cartoons. Don't get me wrong, I like the cartoons. Fallout leans heavily into parody and it's totally on brand. But Maximus' entire emotional arc was so understated and I really appreciated it.

He isn't a very vocal OR excessively emotive character because he knows being vulnerable hurts him. He shapes himself to that idealized memory of the knight in the armor even as he doesn't seem to really understand or care for the beliefs behind the armor. He's failing his classes as an aspirant. When talking of the BoS beliefs, he throws in a "or whatever". That part of it doesn't matter to him. The armor IS his belief system.

His whole story is about the cycle of violence and toxicity. The bullies who beat him. The abuse he endures. He wants power so that he can escape it but once he gets that chance he's doomed to perpetuate it, because that power is coming from the system. It's tainted. Deep down he doesn't want revenge, he doesn't even want power for power's sake, he wants safety. And he wants to be the hero from his memory, he wants the strength to save himself from this cycle.

And yet, he just keeps making he wrong choices. Over and over and over. He can't get out of it.

And then Lucy throws him a lifeline. And it takes someone from outside of the cycle to break through. And then he makes the choice to do the right thing even though it means making himself weaker, making himself less safe. He chooses to do the right thing for the first time in the show. And it means finally letting go of his dream, the armor.

And he sees a light at the end of the tunnel. He thinks his reward is going to be Vault 33, he's going to be safe and happy with someone who cares about him and makes him feel like a real, good person.

And by the end of the series, he's trapped in the cycle again.

There is just something so delicious about someone getting everything they wanted at the start and being miserable about it. There's something so REAL about wanting to be something but every instinct makes you sabotage yourself every step of the way.

And the thing is, he had all of these little moments of genuineness, selfishness, pettiness, virtue, I genuinely didn't know what he was going to do for most of the show. I thought he might turn on Lucy at some point. I honestly, truly thought he had sabotaged Dane even though Dane was his only friend. He is so morally hard to pin down because he's so full of life's little hypocrisies. His ideals and his feelings are in conflict so much and he doesn't have to look anguished for you to understand that. You just see it in his resigned stares, in his hesitance and his ultimate actions.

I just... I really loved Maximus. Bravo to Aaron Moten.

[wutheringmights]

Hey out of curiosity, I know most of the main cast in CTB is pulled from either Legend of Zelda game canons (Princess Zelda, Lana, Ganondorf in name, etc) or Linked Universe, but out of your original characters (especially Kat, Marigold, and the various Knights of Hyrule), did u give any of them symbolic or referential names?

Oh boy do I got the fun post for you:

Lincoln is straight up my Linksona. Just think of him as another version of the character Link

Marigold is supposed to be the typical red-headed love interest for a Link-like character; even her name is meant to fit right in with characters like Malon, Marin, and Midna.

Warriors's last name was originally going to be Warton, but I changed it to Walton when I learned that it meant "noble."

Meemaw is a reference to the Bertolt Brecht character Mother Courage (from his play Mother Courage and Her Children; I had just finished reading it for a seminar class when CTB first came to me). The characters even share a first name: Anna

Similarly, Kat is based off of Mother Courage's daughter, Kattrin; a famously silent-due-to-truama character

Kat's siblings also share names and fates with Mother Courage's sons: Eli is Eilif, and Cheddar is Swiss Cheese (yes, that's his real name)

Orlanda was named for Virginia Woolf's famous character Orlando; originally, I was going to have Orlanda be nonbinary, but changed my mind when I realized it wouldn't be a good idea to make your sacrificial character your nonbinary representation.

Shigeo's name was originally just going to be Shig, as a reference to Shigeru Miyamoto, but I changed it when I started to rewatch Mob Psycho 100. Shigeo is meant to be a homage to a common original character type I kept reading in Warriors-centric fics: the young Sheikah guy for Warriors to have a romance with. However, Shigeo was never envisioned with a romantic relationship in mind. He was always meant to be this cool, older guy type. However, I did almost have Warriors have a crush on him, then deleted that concept for space.

Gaudin was named after a French criminal for no reason. Genuinely, I just liked the name.

Anders was originally going to be named Betolt in honor of Brecht, but that felt heavy handed.

Jakucho is just meant to be the old woman version of the general Impa character to match the badass young woman version that is actually in Hyrule Warriors. Her name means "silent, lonely listening." I liked how it related to her role as Warriors's mentor/therapist.

Impa's real name, Chiyo, means "thousand generations, thousand worlds." I like how it related to the idea that she's always wanted to assume the same role as her ancestors.

I originally picked their surname Miyashita because the site I was on said it translated to something like "temple below the earth," which would reference the Kakariko Well. Checking now, it actually means "(one who lives) below the shrine," which makes way more sense in retrospect.

Ayane has no special name meaning, but her character... you do realize she's just Mask, right?

General Whitestone's name came from me asking myself what would a highly suspicious white guy in charge be called?

The name Nephus translates to "a God's son who will also become a God." Do I mean that literally? Who knows. At the very least, I wanted a snappy, but impressive-sounding name.

Vasileios means "royal or kingly". His middle name, Orionides, implies that he's the son of a great hunter.

Icarius's name is meant to be reminiscent to that of Icaurs, the famous mythological figure.

Philo means "lover or friend." A very cute name for a not-so-cute boy.

You probably have realized that the House of Nephus characters are heavily Greek/Roman coded. Originally, they were going to be Russian coded, but then the line about Faovaria being unable to attack some other kingdom due to their harsh winters would have fallen into question.

Faovaria's symbol being an octopus is a reference to how the octopuses symbolized immortality in ancient Greece.

Both of those were super off-topic. Sorry lol

I'll end with a fun fact you shouldn't look too deep into: the empire name Faovaria is derived from Farore. This was due to a concept I changed my mind about. Genuinely, it's not relevant anymore. Do not incorporate it into your theories, or something.

[elionwriter]

Wow, just wow. I can't believe it! They made me hate my favourite series. I mean, the entire S3 of the Mandalorian has been bad, but for me this episode really broke it.

It was a travesty. I mean, how do you go: yeah we got a great series, with great characters that have been growing steadily over the past two seasons.... let's just toss all that in the garbage bin and do whatever we're doing now.

I swear this season is making me legit angry. 😠😠😠😤🤬😡 What the F!!!!!! It's so bad!!!!! Lizzo and Jack Black?!?! Are you for real?! Evil separatist dude in the worst mystery plot ever?!?! The knighting scene?!?! And the absolutely anti-climatic passing of the dark sabre? Like what the fuck was even the point of making Din have it? And make him struggle with it?!?! Din's character was supposed to prove that despite being brought into the creed and not being born Mandalorian royalty he still was in every way, at his core Mandalorian, even more so than most who took it for granted, because he understood, respected and upholded those values. And the show goes, nah, let's give power back to the legit princess who basically got a pat on her back for whatever she did this season and forget there is someone who earned everything he has and has become through trial and error. Honestly, it's not that Bo is taking the leader position, I would be ok with that if the story actually made her work for it. But the moment she reached the covert the armourer was just like 'yeah, I'm gonna favour you over the person who almost died to be accepted again in our family and protected us for years. Sure, take off your helmet Bo, it's not like I immediately kicked out Din the moment he did so without even wanting to hear his side of the story. Let's, once again, hand Bo-Katan the sword without saying that we're just handing down the sword to her! I mean come on: it's Din and Sabine the ones who sweated over it! Bo-Katan literally never did anything to properly deserve it!!!!!

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Moe Moe Mallekei Kyun~

In which Malleus and Cater go to a maid café, and shenanigans ensue.

... I’ve been wanting to write this for a long time.

***Warning: mild spoilers for Malleus’s PE Uniform personal story!***

Imagine this...

“Lilia-sama.”

Two bodyguards fell into line, saluting simultaneously to their vice dorm leader.

“We just finished combing through the prime gargoyle locations around campus,” Silver reported. “Unfortunately, there was no sight of Malleus-sama to be found. The accounts of the various students we interviewed also corroborate that the Young Master has not recently been spotted in the area.”

“I see. Thank you, Silver.” Lilia sighed, cupping his cheek in one hand. “Hm, this is a bit odd. Wherever could he have wandered off to this time?”

At that moment, a ping! sounded off. Lilia fished his phone out of his pocket and, with one glance at the screen, his expression softened.

“You don’t suppose some dastardly villain has… kidnapped the Young Master and is holding him for ransom, do you?!” Sebek’s eyes nearly bulged out of his skull at the thought. “If that is the case… THEN WE HAVE FAILED AS MALLEUS-SAMA’S KNIGHTS!!”

“Now, now--let’s not jump to conclusions. Even if that were true, I’m certain that Malleus would be able to easily fend off assailants on his own. Perhaps he has simply lost his way, or headed off campus to run an errand.”

“... Without warning us in advance?”

“I would have happily accompanied the Young Master wherever he went--EVEN TO THE ENDS OF TWISTED WONDERLAND ITSELF!!”

“Kufufu. Malleus is still young at heart. Let us allow him this moment of independence, just this once. He will find his way home eventually.”

“Welcome home, my masters!!”

Malleus skidded to a stop in the doorway—for beyond it laid unknown territory. The interior sported cream walls, with fairy lights, streamers, and paper flowers strung up. A number of tables and chairs, populated with people, were set against flowing white curtains.

Young ladies flitted about, balancing trays of food and drinks, cameras, and microphones. Each wore the same outfit, consisting of a frilly headdress, an apron, and a black dress with lace trim and ribbons.

And now, one of those uniformed girls extended a hand to him and a warm, welcoming smile.

Malleus frowned and turned to the orange haired young man beside him. “... Diamond. What is this strange establishment you’ve brought me to?”

“Mm? It’s a maid café,” Cater chirped, glancing up from his phone. “You said you’ve never been before, right?”

“Well, yes… However, when you invited me to join you for an outing, I did not expect this to be our destination.”

“It’ll be fine~ We’re already here, so let’s get seated!” Cater insisted cheerily, ushering the fae through the door. 

“Right this way, my masters!” The greeter giggled and led the way, eventually stopping at a vacant table set for two. As the duo slipped into their seats, she handed them menus and moistened towels. “We have a wide selection of special services and delicious dishes for your enjoyment!”

Malleus hesitantly flipped open the (very pink) menu and ran his eyes down the page of available items. Along with the expected offerings of desserts, savory foods, and beverages were odd listings: massage, ear cleaning, karaoke, game, arts and crafts, picture, spoon feeding, live song and dance...

He stared quizzically at Cater, who seemed to be taking everything in stride.

“I’ll take a plate of omurice! How about you, Malleus-kun?”

He stared back at his menu, trying to make rhyme or reason of the unique names. What in the Great Seven was a Pyon ❤ Pyon Sunshine Bar…? Or a Lucky☆Happy☆Cookie? Malleus’s brows furrowed in both concentration and confusion.

“I… I shall have the local specialty, whatever that may be,” the fae prince declared at last.

“Excellent choices! And would you like a bunny, or a kitty?”

“You hand out animals at this eating establishment? Is that not a health code violation?”

“Aaah, Malleus-kun, she doesn’t mean real rabbits and cats. Look--you’ll see when she brings them, okay?” Cater laughed awkwardly. Then, turning to the waitress, he held up his index finger. “One of each, little lady~”

“Of course!” She scribbled down a few words on her heart shaped notepad before prancing off.

“... Diamond. Are you certain this is the fabled maid café of which you spoke of?” Malleus asked, folding his arms. “I find it difficult to believe that every patron here is descended from a high class lineage. Furthermore, the servers are wearing attire entirely unlike that of a traditional household servant.”

Cater blinked once, twice—then chuckled.

“Maid cafés are like normal cafés. Anyone can go to them to play pretend and chill for a while! The difference is that the waitresses are dressed cutely and offer fun services. Singing, dancing, playing games—that kinda thing!”

“I do not understand.” Malleus swept a hand at their surroundings. “The purpose of this establishment is merely for… amusement?”

“Yup! People get tired of the daily grind sometimes, so they go to places like this to see cute stuff and just take a load off.”

“I… I see.” Malleus tucked his thumb and forefinger under his chin. “We do not have anything like your maid cafes in the Valley of Thorns.”

“You don’t? What sort of things do you do back home for fun, then?”

“I was not allowed to venture far from the palace grounds. Most of my time was spent indoors, studying spells or honing my magical abilities.”

Cater inclined his head. “Oooh, right! Because you’re a prince and all, you weren’t able to do much—but hey! Things are different now! You’ve got Cay-kun to show you a good time!”

“Ah, yes. A ‘good time’...” Malleus attempted at a smile, which came out more wary than he had intended.

“Thank you for waiting!” a girlish voice chirped—their waitress had returned, wearing a tray of food in one hand and two headbands in the other. “Here is your omurice and Nyan ✨ Nyan ✨ Kitty-chan Parfait, plus one pair of kitty ears and one pair of bunny ears!”

She handed Cater his dish—a bed of ketchup flavored fried rice, sealed by a wobbling omelet and garnished with a sprig of parsley.

“Mm! Smells delicious. Thanks a bunch~” Cater grinned, winking at his server.

The maid giggled and placed Malleus’s dessert before him, along with the headbands.

“Would you like me to draw or write something special for you on your meal, master?” she asked, gesturing to Cater’s omurice.

“Sure thing! Could you write ‘Mallekei’? Oh, and a couple of hearts would be cute, too!”

“As you wish!”

As the maid set to work, Malleus marveled at the sight of his parfait.

Colorful scoops of ice-cream, granola, and sliced fruits were layered inside of a tall glass cup. A generous crown of whipped cream and a drizzle of strawberry sauce topped it off. Sticking out from the whipped cream were two wafer triangles and dots of chocolate candies, forming a cat-like face.

How adorable.

… But not adorable enough to be spared.

“Thank you for the food.” The fae raised his spoon to demolish the poor parfait kitten—

“Stop, stop, Malleus-kun!!” Cater cried, frantically waving his arms. “N-Not yet!!”

Malleus lowered his spoon with a frown. “Food is meant to be consumed, Diamond. Is there an issue you have with my table etiquette?”

“Well—no, but…” Cater played with a lock of his orange hair and sighed. “There’s certain rituals we need to do first!”

“Rituals? Oh, my apologies. I was not aware. Please proceed with your regularly scheduled… rituals.”

“Ahaha, you’re a quick learner! First thing’s first, let’s put on our headbands!” Cater swept up the cat ears and passed them over. “Here, to match your parfait! I’ll take the rabbit.”

Malleus gingerly nestled the cat ears on his head, copying Cater’s movements. It was a bit tricky maneuvering around his horns, but somehow, he managed.

“Oh!! Those ears suit you so well!” the waitress said, glancing up from decorating the omurice. Carefully placed splotches of ketchup spelled out ‘Mallekei’, hearts and little sparkles littering the space around the boys’ combined names.

“... Do they?” Malleus doubted it.

“They do!!” Cater reassured him with a laugh. “Ne, ne, miss! Can you take our picture so my friend here can have a souvenir to take home with him?” 

“Certainly!” She replaced the bottle of ketchup and hurried off, returning shortly after with a polaroid camera. “Are you ready, my masters?”

“Ready, Malleus-kun?”

“Hmph. Of course. I will have you know that my posing abilities have improved considerably since our last encounter. Do not underestimate me.”

“Oh, that’s great! You’ve been practicing! Then… on the count of three, we nyah, okay?”

“... What is ‘nyah’?” Malleus inquired, his confidence suddenly waning.

“Eh?” A blip of surprise crossed Cater’s face. “Like, y’know… nyah!”

The influencer curled both of his hands into balls and made a pawing motion at his friend. “Now you try!”

“Like this?” Malleus mimicked him. He was more stiff—definitely not as practiced—but the general motion was still recognizable.

“Very good, master!!” the waitress gushed, raising the polaroid up. “On three?”

“1, 2, 3… Nyah!”

A flash went off, sending stars into Malleus’s vision. As he rubbed the daze out of his eyes, Cater’s voice called out to him.

“Are you okay there?”

“I am well. There is no need for your concern,” the fae insisted. “This ritual… it is more confounding that I took it to be.”

“Eeeh? It’s not meant to be hard or anything. Just relax, relax!” Cater paused before adding, “It’s part of the ritual’s requirements! You need to be nice and loose for the last step!”

“What is this last step?”

“We need to cast a magic spell to make your food taste extra tasty!” the waitress declared cheerily.

“Hoh?” A smirk found its way onto Malleus’s face. “That can easily be arranged. Allow me to do the honors.”

He put his hand before his parfait, an eerie green glow emulating from his palm. The sinister light engulfed his dish and Cater’s, sending them floating midair. Radioactive ice-cream and omurice hovered above their heads, causing both Cater and their maid to recoil in shock.

Other customers stared at the spectacle from their own tables. One man’s jaw dropped, the forkful of spaghetti bolognese in his mouth clattering onto the floor.

“You, who provides sustenance to the masses, become that which is delici—“

“H-Hold on a sec, Malleus-kun!!” Cater practically leapt over the table to seize his friend’s glowing hand. “Not that kind of spell!!”

Eyes wide with surprise, Malleus allowed his magic to settle down. The parfait and omurice gently floated back onto their table, and the maid sighed with relief.

“Is there a different spell needed for this occasion? I assure you that I am well-versed in practical magic—you need only speak its name, and I can conjure the proper…”

“No, no! It’s—“ Cater casted a look at their server and nervously chuckled. “Ne, Maid-chan~ Think you can give us a demonstration of the right spell?”

“Yes, master!” the girl, ever professional, flashed a perky grin. “Please watch carefully!!”

The maid set down her polaroid on the table. She then arched her fingers into C-like shapes, thumb extended straight. Pushing her hands together, she formed a heart and aimed it in the direction of the boy’s dishes.

“Moe moe kyuuuuuun!”

“What an odd spell. In all my years, I have never heard of such an enchantment…”

“Well, there’s a first for everything, right?” Cater flicked one of his floppy rabbit ears. “Plus, it should be no problem for the great Malleus-sama to pull off this spell, right?”

“This is child’s play,” Malleus’s laugh was like the earth itself rumbling. His lips quirked into a small smile. “You will join me in performing this sacred ritual, will you not, Diamond?”

“Of course~”

“Very well.”

They made hearts and thrust them upon their meals. And together, they uttered those three magic words.

“Moe moe kyuuuuun!!”

“Welcome back, Malleus,” Lilia greeted. The vice dorm leader nonchalantly hung from the ceiling, his raven and magenta bangs suspended midair. “Did you have fun on your outing?”

“Lilia. You knew?” Malleus slowly shut the door behind him, chasing away the cool air of the night. He spoke softly, knowing that sounds carried in the dusty hallways of Diasomnia and could disturb its residents.

“The wonders of modern technology,” Lilia trilled, expertly landing beside his young master. He brandished his phone in a gloved hand, a text message displayed on the screen.

hey hey lilia-chan! gonna steal malmal-kun for the day~ he’ll be back later, but do me a solid and keep it a secret from s&s til then, ‘kay? thnx!! (✿˶˘ ³˘)~♡

“It looks as though I have been exposed.”

“There is no shame in making new friends. In fact, I’m proud of you for expanding your horizons.” Lilia beamed. “Though what a shame it is that I was not present to grab a few pictures. Hopefully Cater fulfilled that task for me.”

The ancient fae tilted forward in his toes and peered up at his prince. “Soooo? Where did you sneak off to?”

“Fufu. Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“My. Is that any way to treat the man that kept Silver and Sebek from hunting you down?” Lilia teased, wagging a finger.

“Such loyalty,” Malleus smirked, hands on his hips, “deserves to be rewarded.”

He produced a polaroid photograph from his breast pocket and presented it with a flourish. The image, forever captured in time, was that of Malleus and Cater—the former with cat ears, the latter with bunny ears—with hands balled to resemble paws. Cater cheekily winked, while Malleus looked slightly bewildered.

The edges of the polaroid were dotted with stickers—smiley faces, flowers, and hearts. Marker had been used to scrawl on whiskers and blushes over both boys’ cheeks.

Overall, cutesy—overwhelming so.

But the Malleus and Cater in the picture were happy.

Their eyes shining like jewels.

Nyah-ing their hearts out.

[janetbrown711]

The Story

Once upon a time, there was a beautiful princess.

Her full name was Princess Angelina Contessa Louisa Francesca Banana Fanna Bo Besca the Second, but Angelina was just fine. However, if you were especially close, she’d let you call her Lena. 

She was as kind as she was beautiful. Often Angelina found herself wandering the Warnerstock castle grounds and singing to herself, whenever she wasn’t getting in trouble for skipping classes. 

Oh yes, Angelina was a trouble maker. And a smart-ass too. She loved talking back and driving her teachers insane more than anything. It wasn’t that she hated learning, far from it, it was just that she always had something better on her mind. Most often it was a song, other times it was her thinking about the new squire, William. 

They had met in the stables. She had just finished her horseback riding lessons and he was just getting started with his. She was roughly 15, and he 16. They hit it off right away, though William made a fool of himself when he tripped face first in to a bucket of water. Angelina didn’t mind at all though, and they quickly became close friends.

William was a handsome squire, and it was very clear to Angelina that he liked her. Angelina liked him too. He had a goofy grin, and was full of fascinating stories she could listen to all day. He was also surprisingly optimistic, always encouraging her and others to never give up on their goals and aspirations. 

He was sweet, and Angelina was pretty sure she was hopelessly in love with him. 

Her parents didn’t really approve- they didn’t approve of most things she liked. The only thing they let her do was sing, so she practiced and did it often. Angelina was pretty sure that if she wasn’t destined to take the throne, she’d be a singer on stage, and would dance and perform. 

Instead, she sat and learned how to eat at a dinner table. Of all the classes she thought were boring and useless, manners were the most boring and least useful. However, she sparked back to life when she looked out the window and saw none other than William himself waiting for her outside. 

“Salad, fish, dinner, dessert, oyster.” Angelina cut off her instructor mid sentence and listed off the specific and dumb uses of the forks in front of her. “Now, miss, I’m afraid this lesson isn’t very interesting and something much better is waiting for me downstairs. If you don’t mind, how about we both spare each other from this dreadful lesson and call it a day early?” Angelina looked at her instructor. 

“Smart-ass,” The teacher rolled her eyes. “But fine. We’ll just go overtime next time,” she said. Angelina groaned internally, but accepted her win, and ran out of the castle as quick as she could to meet William, only stopping right before the doors to adjust her crown. 

“Hi William,” She said with a smile, almost giggling at how nervous he looked. For someone who was soon going to be knighted, he seemed pretty nervous about something. 

“H-hi Lena,” He blushed. Angelina snorted. 

“William, relax. It’s just me,” She touched his shoulder, and he relaxed a little. “C’mon, let’s go for a walk.”

William agreed to this, and with him leading they strolled through the gardens. It was their favorite way to spend the time. They loved looking at all the flowers and planting them too. Angelina’s mother thought it was too dirty of an activity for a princess, but Angelina thought her mother was too rude and egotistical to be queen, and yet here they were.  

Needless to say, her mother let her garden. 

“Can you believe you’re going to be a real knight by this time tomorrow?” Angelina asked. 

“No, not really,” He scratched the back of his neck. “To be honest, I’m dreadfully nervous about the ceremony, but I’m hopeful that things will turn out well enough,” He admitted to her. Angelina nodded. 

“Knighthood is a big step from squire. Very respectable and admirable,” She said.

“What about you? You ready to be queen?” William asked. 

Angelina laughed. “Me? Queen? Not in a million years. I mean- I know it’ll happen one day, but so long as I have any say in it, it won’t be for awhile,” She remarked.

“Have you not heard rumors of your mother’s retirement? You are of age and all,” He asked. Angelina shrugged. 

“I hardly pay attention to a word she says these days,” She admitted. “She hates seeing me happy, so I prefer to not be around her in hopes that i will be.”

“Are you?” William asked. 

“With you? Of course,” Angelina smiled at him. William blushed. 

“Good- that’s... that’s good,” He said, looking at the flowers. Angelina restrained a giggle. 

“So... if I may, why did you want to talk with me today?” She asked as they reached the center fountain. 

“Well- I uh...” William cleared his throat. “Well... you see... I-i’m becoming a knight which mean I-I’m eligible for- well...” 

“Well..?” Angelina tilted her head slightly. William took in a deep breath. 

“Lena... I’ve been in love with you since I first laid eyes on you. You’re... you’re beautiful, witty, courageous, and just... wow,” He said, and it was Angelina’s turn to blush. 

“I know I don’t come from much- I’m just an orphan from Acme Falls, a-and I know your mother doesn’t approve but... well...” He got down on one knee. 

“I don’t have a ring, as squires don’t really get paid but... I love you, Angelina. There is no one on this earth I’d rather spend the rest of my life with. So... please... will you marry me?” He proposed. 

“I... Of course,” Angelina nodded.

“I-it wouldn’t be right away. It’d be after you’re queen- when your mother is gone and can’t-” William paused. “W-wait- did you say-”

“Yes, you dummy,” Angelina punched his arm lightly. William laughed and stood, and Angelina pulled him into a passionate kiss. 

And so the pair was engaged, though it was in secret. Angelina was pretty sure her mother finding out would give her a heart attack, and she’d die right then and there. 

Well, turns out it didn’t matter because in a months time, Queen Angelina Contessa Louisa Francesca Banana Fanna Bo Besca the First died of a sudden illness, and Angelina rose to the throne. She and William were married no less than a month later. 

Ten months after their wedding, Warnerstock had a new prince. 

“William, isn’t he just the cutest thing?” Angelina said, unable to take her eyes off her newborn son. 

William kissed her head. “Of course, my love.”

“I think I’m seriously in love with him. I never want to take my eyes off of him. I mean seriously- look at that little face,” Angelina sniffled. William chuckled. 

“He has your eyes. I think that’s what does it,” He said. 

“Stop, you’re making me emotional,” Angelina laughed and sniffled again. 

“We’re going to have to name him, you know?” William said. Angelina sighed and nodded. 

“Yes, I know... but names are so hard,” She complained. “I mean- It’s not like I have a lot to go on. My father’s name was Harold the Eighth and my mother was Queen Angelina Contessa blah blah blah the first. They were so lazy,” She sighed. “And I refuse to name this precious little thing Harold the Ninth. That’s just a curse.”

“I understand dear. It’s just... well... the people do need to hear something soon,” William said. “They can’t be waiting forever. They want to know their future king.”

“I know, I know,” She sighed, looking at her son’s face and thinking intensely. 

“What about something... traditional in the sense that it’s old, but not in the sense it’s boring and overused?” She suggested. 

“What did you have in mind?” He asked, genuinely curious. 

“Something like... Yakkorotius or Alexandrion or something,” She thought out loud, before shaking her head. “That’s a very stupid name, never mind.”

“What about just... Yakko?” He proposed. Angelina thought about it. 

“I think I like that name,” She nodded. “Prince Yakko Warner of Warnerstock it is,” She smiled as she said it. She didn’t know why, but she could tell it suited him already. 

And so their little family began. Yakko very much lived up to his name, as once he gained the ability to babble, it seemed he never stopped. Even in his sleep, Angelina swore she could hear him babbling about whatever he was dreaming about in that sweet little head of his. By the time he was three, he would just ramble on and on about the bedtime story William had told him the previous night. 

It was the favorite part of Angelina’s mornings. 

However, Angelina and William found themselves wanting another child, and so by the next year, they had another son. 

“You know what William? I think if they gave out awards for cutest babies, they’d go to our kids,” Angelina said as she laid in bed, utterly exhausted. 

“You’re right,” The king agreed. “I think he had to though, to make up for the scare he gave us,” he said. In truth, he hadn’t been born breathing and crying and for a moment, everyone in the room believed the worst. But fortunately, the doctor fixed him right up, and everything was okay. 

Still. 

It had scared the crap out of Angelina and William, and the queen was determined to never let go of her newborn. 

“What do you think of the name Wakkorotti?” William asked out of the blue. 

“Like the performer?” Angelina tilted her head. The king nodded. 

“I think it sounds elegant. And what about the middle name Alan, after my father?” He suggested. 

“We didn’t give Yakko a middle name,” Angelina remarked. 

“True, but I didn’t think about it until now,” William said. Angelina thought a moment. 

“Perhaps we should let Yakko decide. He’s probably curious and wanting to meet his little brother,” Angelina said, nodding at the maid by the door, who left to go fetch him. 

“Letting him decide? I’m pretty sure if he could he’d name him Knight or Dragon or something,” William teased her, and Angelina stuck out her tongue at him. Just then the door opened and Yakko ran to his mothers side. 

“You’re okay!” He said, jumping onto the bed. Angelina laughed at his enthusiasm, but remembered that she was holding a sleeping newborn and silently reminded Yakko to keep his voice down. 

“Of course I’m okay dear. Now... would you like to meet your baby brother?” Angelina said. Yakko nodded and peered over her shoulder to get a good look at him. 

“He’s tiny,” Yakko said. 

“That’s because he’s a baby, though you were slightly bigger when you were born,” William explained. 

“What’s his name?” Yakko asked. 

“What do you think of the name Wakkorotti Alan Warner?” Angelina asked. The boy pondered it for a long moment, stroking his chin intensely before nodding. 

“Wakkorotti is cool,” he determined. William smirked and kissed her forehead. 

“Wakkorotti it is,” he grinned. 

And Wakkorotti it was, though they shortened it to Wakko. Wakko proved himself to be an... interesting child to say the least. He loved to chew on everything he could get his little ungloved hands on, so they had to be extra careful not to leave anything dangerous within his grasp. He also had a tendency to chew on his tail when nervous, which was cute at times, but once he started growing teeth he had a tendency to hurt himself, which was bad. 

Once he began to crawl though, he had a funny little habbit of following Yakko wherever he went, to his older brother’s confusion and delight. Angelina found it adorable how he would just chase after him. She found it less cute when he fell on his face, but he always recovered just fine. 

Angelina had a tendency to be a worry-wart. 

However, perhaps the cutest habbit the two of them shared was the constant want and need to sleep in their bed. Sure, it was a little annoying at times, but Angelina honestly lived for the feeling of her two boys against her as they slept peacefully. She always considered herself the luckiest woman in the world in those moments, despite any other troubles she was facing. 

Though of course it was true, Wakko proved himself to be quite the handful. However, despite that, Angelina knew that she still wanted to try one more time for a little girl. She loved her boys dearly, but she knew she wanted to try at least one more time for a girl. Plus, she felt being an older brother would be good for Wakko. Perhaps it would help tame him a little bit, though she and William suspected he was destined to be a wild child. They did name him Wakko after all. 

“Congratulations your majesties. It’s a girl,” The doctor said as she wrapped the newborn princess in a blanket and handed her to Angelina, who just about started crying when she held her. 

“I know what you’re gonna say Lena, and yes, she’s adorable,” William wrapped an arm around her. 

“She’s just so cuteeeee,” Angelina sobbed this time, the hormones really doing a number on her. Then again, though William wouldn’t admit it out loud to the boys, she was easily the cutest baby he had ever laid eyes on. 

“I just-” Angelina sniffled, desperate to pull herself together. “She’s just so cute. I can’t handle this.”

“You’re exhausted Lena. Maybe I should-” 

“No, I want to hold her,” Angelina shook her head, and William backed down. Angelina took in deep breaths and gathered herself. 

“I’m okay, I promise,” Angelina said. William nodded. 

“I know my love,” He kissed her. His eyes then went to his sleeping baby girl and the two just sat and stared at her sleeping, both feeling exhausted (though one more notably than the other). 

In honesty, things were starting to get tense with Warnerstock and Ticktockia, as the new king Salazar was far less willing to follow treaties of the past, and Angelina and William had been working out deals very late hours into the night, and their exhaustion most certainly wasnt helped my Angelina being in labor for two whole days, leaving neither one of them with much sleep at all. 

“What do you want to name her, dearest?” Angelina asked. William yawned. 

“I thought I named Wakko,” He said. 

“Well yes, and I do have an idea of my own, but I was wondering what you think first,” Angelina said. 

“Fair enough,” The king said, sitting himself up. 

“I was thinking she could have your name,” He said. Angelina blinked. 

“You want her to save the same name as my mother?” She raised an eyebrow in alarm. 

“I hardly think of your name as her name. You’re much much kinder and more beautiful and kind and a much better mother than she could ever dream,” William smiled tiredly at her. 

“Oh stop, you’ll make me cry again,” Angelina said, not admitting how much those words meant to her. William kissed her head. 

“What were you thinking of naming her Lena?” He asked. 

“I just wanted to name her Dot...” She sniffled. In truth, she liked the name Dot. She had read it in a book somewhere and admired how short yet colorful it was. 

“How about that’s her nickname? Like how I call you Lena,” William suggested. 

“How on earth is Dot short for Princess Angelina Contessa Louisa Francesca Banana Fanna Bo Besca the Third?” Angelina questioned. 

“It isn’t, I just think it makes sense,” William shrugged. Angelina looked back down at her baby girl and thought about it. 

She really did like the idea of her sharing her name... but she did also like the name Dot. It suited her, somehow. Just like how Yakko fit Yakko and Wakko fit Wakko, Dot just seemed to fit Dot. 

“I’d like that,” Angelina agreed. 

“Do you want me to let the boys in?” The king asked. She nodded. He kissed her one last time and headed out of the room, and before she knew it, two cautious little boys were at the foot of her bed. 

“It’s okay you two, you can climb up,” She gestured with her head. Slowly, they climbed up on either side of her, and both looked down at their baby sister. 

“What’s her name?” Yakko asked. 

“Her full name is Princess Angelina Contessa Louisa Francesca Banana Fanna Bo Besca the Third... but you can just call her Dot,” Angelina joked. 

“That’s a really long name,” Yakko remarked. 

“It’s my name too,” The queen said. 

“Your name isn’t mummy?” Wakko tilted his head in confusion, and Yakko laughed at him. Angelina gave him a look. 

“No. I’m Angelina the second, and this is Angelina the third,” She said, not having the energy for the full name. 

“How is Dot short for Angelina?” Yakko asked. 

“It just is,” She shrugged. 

“Why does she look like that?” Wakko asked with a frown. 

“Wakko, that’s quite a rude thing to say,” Angelina scolded. 

“Sorry,” he apologized. The queen took a deep breath in. 

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t snap like that,” She apologized too. “It’s been a very long week.” 

“Yeah,” Yakko agreed. 

“I think she’s cute,” Wakko said, seeming to have changed his mind from the previous statement. Angelina smiled. 

“She is, isn’t she?” She laughed tiredly. After that, the three of them stayed staring at the newest member of their family curiously, even though she was only sleeping. Eventually Angelina joined her in sleep, and soon enough, all four of them were asleep on the bed. 

With encouragement from William, despite having a rocky and exhausting start, Angelina was optimistic that everything was going to turn out alright. Thank god William was an optimist, because Angelina was pretty sure between the tension only increasing with Ticktockia and with her exhaustion from having a newborn around again, she was pretty sure she might have snapped by now. 

It especially wasn’t helped that when Dot was only three months old, there was already rumors of war. 

Angelina hated war. She hated the very concept of it. All she wanted to do was to live a peaceful life with her children and husband, was that so much to ask? 

However, despite how dire things were going William always promised everything was going to be okay, but Angelina was starting to become less and less persuaded. So, while she set Dot down for her afternoon nap, and while Yakko and Wakko played in the gardens, she wrote letters to Acme Falls, explaining the situation as best she could. 

She couldn’t live with herself if something were to happen and she didn’t have a plan. 

Thankfully the people of Acme Falls agreed. Many of them were old friends of William’s, and so they swore they’d protect them if anything bad were to happen to her and William. 

Angelina hated to think that way, but she needed to know they’d be safe no matter what. 

Well, one night Angelina put Dot in her crib for the night after finally getting her to go to sleep (it had been a rough night and she had had to go through at least five different lullabies) and Angelina went into the playroom and saw Wakko playing by himself with toy soldiers and carts. 

“What’re you playing there Wakko?” She asked, trying her best not to let her exhaustion show. 

“M’playing soldiers,” He gave her a big toothy grin. She nodded and sat in the rocking chair in the corner. 

“Sounds like fun, my dear,” She said, not knowing what else to really say. Wakko was nowhere near as talkative as Yakko, so if he didn’t feel like talking, he didn’t feel like talking. 

She had nearly fallen asleep in the rocking chair, when she heard the door open and saw an embarrassed and upset looking Yakko enter the room. 

Right. He had just come back from the meeting with his father. Angelina told him he shouldn’t have let him sit in, but William had insisted it was good for him. She sighed. 

“You alright honey?” She asked. Yakko sighed. 

“I talk too much,” he sighed. 

“Impossible. I think you talk just the right amount for you,” The queen shook her head. 

“Yakko! Play with me!” Wakko said, putting a toy soldier into his hand. Yakko groaned and looked at his mom. Angelina rolled her eyes. 

“Play with your brother Yakko, it’s good for you,” She said, before grabbing his arm and whispering, “I’ll let you have a treat later if you play nice.”

That seemed to change his mood instantly and he quickly joined Wakko on the floor. He was still a little more grouchy than she would have liked, but she was far too exhausted to fix it, and decided he just needed to vent a little and that it’d be fine if she closed her eyes for a minute or two...

Angelina wasn’t how long she had rested before the loud shattering of glass shot her awake in the rocking chair, and she stood. 

“What was that mummy?” Wakko asked, tugging on her sleeve. 

“I-i’m sure it was nothing, dear,” She patted his head to try and reassure him, but she cringed when there was another crash. In a moment, she recognized what she had to do. 

“Yakko, watch over your brother. I’ll be back in a moment, I promise,” She said, trying her best to appear strong and brave for them, but she could see it wasn’t very effective on Yakko. She hugged them tightly and kissed their foreheads. 

“I’ll be back in a moment, I’m just going to check on your father,” She repeated, praying that sounded more confident. Quickly, she grabbed Yakko’s shoulders. 

“Yakko, listen to me. If anything should happen, I need you to grab Dot and exit the castle using the servant tunnels underground. Don’t stop until you reach Acme Falls, understood?” She asked him. Seeing the fear in his eyes nearly broke her, but Angelina knew she had to get Dot and William. Thankfully, he nodded and She relaxed a little. 

“I promise I’ll protect them,” Yakko said. Angelina nodded. 

“I love you two so very, very much,” She said, hugging them once again. 

Why did this feel like a goodbye?

She kissed their foreheads again, making sure to memorize the feeling of holding them. God, she loved them. 

With a heavy heart, she pulled herself away and ran out. 

It was worse than she imagined. She could smell wood burning and the shouting and swearing of men. Angelina ran as far away as she could from the nursery, knowing if she ran into any of these invaders, the last thing she wanted was for them to find the boys. 

She had to find William before she could find Dot. It broke her heart to admit, but Dot’s bedroom was a million times safer than wherever her husband was. 

She dashed around corners and went down and upstairs, and eventually she heard his voice. 

“William?!” She called out. 

No response. 

She ran towards where she heard the voice, but no one was there. Eventually, someone grabbed her arm and she spun around, expecting it to be him, but-

“I found her royal majesty,” a greasy and disgusting man spat on her. Angelina tried to break free, but he was much taller and stronger than she was, and his grip only tightened. 

“I demand you let me go!” She tried, but the man only chuckled as more of his ‘friends’ arrived, and she was overcome with a feeling of dread. 

“You think you’re so pretty huh? Got all that money and power, hm?” He asked. Angelina didn’t dignify the stupid words with a response, which fill the man with anger and he punched her in the face so hard she fell to the ground. 

Ow. 

“Did they find the King?” One of the men asked, as another, much taller and muscular man approached. 

“He is... taken care of. Now our main goal is to find those little brats. And oh look- you found their mommy dearest,” A familiar voice spoke. Angelina blinked and looked up to see his face. 

it was King Salazar himself. 

“Surprised?” He grinned. 

“Not in the slightest,” She growled. Salazar snapped his fingers and one of the men kicked her in the ribs. Hard. 

“You’ve always been so annoying Angelina, you know that?” He complained. 

“You’ve always been a stuck-up pain in the ass who’s never had more than ten cents worth of knowledge, you know that?” Angelina fought back, and regretted it as she was kicked again. 

“You never know when to shut up, do you?” He frowned. Angelina only glared, which made him grin. 

“You know... we were originally betrothed to each other. It’s not too late. We can still be married,” He said, squatting down to her level. Rage filled her body and she spat in his face. 

“I’d sooner die,” She stated. 

“You disgusting creature!” he shouted, standing up and wiping off his eyes. Angelina felt two men grab her arms and twist them into and uncomfortable position and soon she was off the ground. 

“Look... I’m only going to ask this once. Where are those disgusting little children of yours?” He asked.

“Tough, because I’m not telling you,” She glared, and she was dropped onto the floor, her head hitting the marble hard. 

“We can do this the easy way, or the hard way,” Salazar snapped his fingers and guns were pointed at her head. 

“I’m not telling you where they are.” She didn’t waver. 

“We’ll find them either way Angelina, so how’s about you tell us anyway? We already killed the king, we can kill you just as easily,” He snarled. 

William...

Angelina’s eyes darted everywhere as she tried to grasp what they just told her. She didn’t want to believe it but-

William was dead. 

Then, the worst happened. 

She saw him. 

Yakko. He was standing at the end of the hall, looking utterly terrified. Angelina’s eyes widened in fear as she realized her mistake, and she heard Salazar’s voice order:

“Seize the boy.”

Angelina called up all of her inner strength to shout

“Yakko, run.” 

Thank god he did. 

However, a feeling of dread crawled up her spine as Salazar laughed. 

“You stupid, pathetic, and grotesque little creature,” He grinned and Angelina felt blood drip down her face. She hoped Yakko hadn’t seen that. 

“He’s going to lead us right to them, which means we no longer have a use for you,” he grinned. 

“Wait-! Salazar, please- i-i-” She tried begging, but she was knocked back down to the ground my one of their guns. She cried out in pain as she heard something break. 

Her last thoughts were of Yakko, and she quickly and silently prayed that somehow, someway, they’d make it out alive and stay together. They had to. 

“please,” she whispered.

And everything went black.

[september11th2001]

Gyro Gearloose: Kid Inventor and Father

i havent written fics in like a millenia so i apologize if this is kinda messy but i had this idea and had to get it out there ksdkjsh

word count: ~900

characters: Boyd Gearloose, Huey Duck, Gyro Gearloose, Dr. Akita (briefly), Fenton Crackshell-Cabrera (mentioned)

tws: yelling ment and a bad view on gnc clothing ig??

fic under the cut <3 <3

Boyd had a lot of repressed memories of Dr. Akita’s lab.

One memory he had been able to remember was when he was walking the streets of Tolkyolk, holding his inventors hand, when he spotted a box of clothes left out on the corner.

The definitely real boy tugged on Intern Gearloose’s hand, leading him to the box. He pulled out what seemed to be an old school uniform skirt. It was around his size, and was a soft texture he couldn’t get enough of. Gyro let him keep the skirt, and they went back to Akita’s lab.

When the then named 2-BO tried on the skirt, he loved it. Hewouldn’t stop spinning around, giggling as the young intern watched him. Dr. Akita entered the lab, not nessecarily looking at 2-BO until he had bumped into the doctor.

“Intern?”

The chicken sat up in his chair, looking at his boss. “yes, Dr. Akita?”

Akita kneeled down, picking at the boy’s skirt until the intern made a move to stand up and walk over to him. “Did you change 2-BO's gender?”

Gyro looked somewhat puzzled. “of course not, Dr. Akita, 2-BO picked this outfit out on his own!”

He sounded confident in his answer, but his confidence waned when the doctor glared at him. “A word in my office, Intern.”

Boyd couldn’t remember what had happened next exactly. It was a blur. He remembered distant yelling, and a fear of wearing what he would later learn was “feminine” clothing. It got Dr. Gearloose in trouble, so he decided not to wear those kinds of clothes again.

But, he had almost completely forgotten about this when Huey was staying the night at him and Dr. Gearloose’s apartment.

The two junior woodchucks were playing dress up with some clothes Huey and brought just for the occasion (he had planned out the whole evening for maximum friendship fun!) and the two were having fun in Boyd’s room.

“Here, I picked out this outfit based on junior woodchuck rule #204; always plan ahead for both fun and freedom! This outfit has expertise sewing from yours truly while still being breathable!” Huey took out a dress with a slightly shorten than knee length skirt and puffy shoulders. It was that tan-ish color all of Boyd’s clothes were (Gyro had insisted he could pick any color he wanted, but he found beiges had suited him best), with a bow on the waistline very similar to the red of his usual bowtie.

“Really Huey?? For me??” Boyd sounded astonished. Huey handed it to Boyd, nodding ecstatically. “Really!! Try it on!!”

Boyd took the dress and put it on over his pajamas, straightening out the skirt a bit. He looked up at Huey, bouncing on his heels. “How do I look??”

Huey paused, examining Boyd quickly, and then smiled and gave him a thumbs up. “Like a definitely real boy!”

The two boys had decided to play make-believe (after Huey explained what that was), with Huey putting on his own costume he had also worked on that made him look like a knight with a very royally red color palate.

As the two were laughing and running around Boyd’s room, they hadn’t noticed the front door of the apartment opening, insinuating Gyro was home.

Suddenly, as the two boys were in the middle of a story line about an epic quest with dragons, witches, and dragon witches, the door to Boyd’s room opened. “2-B- I mean, Boyd, what do you want... For...”

Gyro looked down at the two children in their medievalesque garb, Boyd particularly looking frightened, like a definitely real deer in headlights.

“Boyd... I-”

Gyro was interrupted as Huey stepped in between them, holding his arms out like a shield. “Don’t you dare judge him, he can wear whatever he wants! A fellow woodchuck will always look out for their fellow woodchuck, no matter what!”

Gyro paused. He sighed. “Look, Hansen-”

“Not my name.”

“As you say, but, I’m not here to judge Boyd.’

Huey slowly lowered his arms. “You’re... Not?”

Gyro sighed again, thinking of how to go about this. Red nephew didn’t need to know every intimate detail of what Boyd’s life as 2-BO was. Luckily, before he had to say anything, Boyd gently stepped in front of Huey, looking up at Gyro.

Gyro exhaled and kneeled down. “Here, Boyd, your sleeve.” Gyro lifted up Boyd’s arm, straightening out his sleeve that had gotten bunched up and twisted during make-believe.

Boyd looked at Huey, who by now had taken a few steps back, looking at him the way he does when he usually has a yes or no question, and Huey almost always knows what he’s asking, and right now was no exception.

Huey gave him two thumbs up, and Boyd looked back at Gyro, pausing for a moment before tackling the doctor in a hug, sending them both tumbling to the floor in a feat that didn’t really require much strength or effort from the definitely real boy.

Gyro squawked, being attacked in his home home by his own son had startled him to say the least, but he was learning to be more “with the flow” as Cabrera would say. He awkwardly pat Boyd on the back, sitting up. “Okay, okay, that’s enough.”

Gyro gently grabbed Boyd and set him down next to Huey, standing up and dusting himself off. “I’ll be in the living room if you need me, just make sure you’re in pjs before dinner so you don’t have a chance of accidentally ruining your clothes.”

Gyro smiled as he left the room, hearing both the boys cheer as he shut the door. He sat down on the couch, somewhat melting into it after having to be a parent. It’s tiring, yknow?

But it was worth it for Boyd.

[watch-talk-fixate]

The Humility of Family and Being a Hero: A Darkwing Duck and Drake Mallard Analysis.

Special thanks to @stoopakoopa @mighty-ant @drakepad because they inspired me.

Ducktales 2017. A show that a lot of people saw a simple cash grab and the exploitation of nostalgia of 80s and 90s kids alike. But it was a true surprise. A show of adventure and family and exploring yourself in the family name. This show brought so many characters from the golden age of Disney Channel called “The Disney Afternoon Era” with faces from shows like: Gizmoduck, Talespin, Goof Troop and Darkwing Duck. 

The whole concept of Darkwing Duck is quite silly really. A parody of Batman, superhero tropes and even James Bond but with a duck in the suburbs of the fictional city of Saint Canard living with his boyfriend sidekick Launchpad and his adopted daughter Gosalyn. As someone who watched the show in reruns back in the day and recently rewatched it on Disney Plus, I didn’t think I would have appreciated this show as much as I thought I would. Dry and witty humor that caught me off guard and it truly doesn’t seem as dated as other shows from those times. 

But I’m here to talk about Drake Mallard and what it means to be a superhero and a parent. 

(For the sake of the analysis, I will be referring to Drake Mallard from the Ducktales 2017 reboot as “Drake Mallard!17” and the Drake Mallard from the OG Darkwing Duck show as “Drake Mallard!91”.)

Ducktales 2017 for a long time was alluring to bringing Darkwing Duck into the universe of the show. Many fans didn't know how this was possible until a certain episode that was the rise of another superhero and Darkwing Duck’s long time rival: Gizmoduck (now voiced by the guy who wrote a Broadway musical that won many awards-- Bring It On the Musical. I’m kidding. Lin Manuel Miranda). In the episode ‘The BUDDY System’ we are shown what looks like a fight scene between Darkwing Duck and his villains, MegaVolt and QuackerJack. But then it’s abruptly cut when it’s revealed to be a video. An episode. Launchpad explains to Dewey (the blue duck nephew of Donald Duck) that Darkwing Duck is his favorite TV show’ meaning that Darkwing Duck is a TV show in the Ducktales 2017 universe. A show inside a show. 

Weird, right? 

But what does this have to do with being a superhero and a parent and how family humbles you? Well, in the OG Darkwing Duck show the character of Drake Mallard is shown to be a late-20s to early-40s nobody in his two-parter episode debut-- “Darkly Dawns the Duck”-- who spends his days locked inside an abandoned bridge tower and out fighting small-time crime at night as a purple masked weirdo. And I say this in the kindest way ever but Drake Mallard!91 is an asshole. It’s later revealed in the show that he wanted to be a superhero not because he wanted to protect the people in his city -- that is a parody of Batman’s Gotham -- but because he wanted the praise and attention of being a hero. He’s a hero for a selfish reason. 

But how is it possible to have an asshole for a main character that lasted 91 episodes? Drake Mallard!91 has a child. It isn’t his biological daughter really but she is his daughter. In his two-parter episode his first real ‘save’ is the granddaughter of a scientist that was murdered by the mafia and now they are after the granddaughter because she has the code for a machine that they are going to use to rob banks and release mayhem across the world. Darkwing Duck!91 goes to save her and they start to have a bond that makes my daddy issues burst into tears. 

Hiding her in his secret hide-out, she isn’t comfortable and Gosalyn needs to sleep so as a way to calm her down he sings her dead grandfather’s lullaby to her. I won’t reveal the rest of the episode or the “plot twist”(?) because I think it’s a cute episode. But here we see that Drake Mallard!91 does have the ability to care about others that isn’t himself or his reputation. 

At the end of the episode, he goes out of his way to adopt Gosalyn and officially makes her his daughter. Throughout the series, you see that Drake Mallard!91 bonds with Gosalyn. Taking her to school, talking to her about emotional things, and doing everything in his power to protect her from the harm that comes with him being a superhero. But in one of my favorite episodes “Toys R Czar”, Drake Mallard!91 has come to the conclusion that he can’t both be a hero and great parent after one of Gosalyn’s teachers points out that she has been causing a lot of issues at school. He blames himself for not being a good parent, reading parenting books and following them to the letter. Cleaning, baking cookies and even being the director for a play where he made Gosalyn the star. 

He gives up being Darkwing Duck. He gives up the one thing that he worked so hard and was so proud of. Drake Mallard!91 put his ego aside to be a good parent and was ready to throw away his cape and pick up an actual job to raise Gosalyn. He did the toughest thing about being a hero, a figure of salvation: having a family. 

I think that the reason that I enjoyed the OG Darkwing Duck a lot despite me being a bitch to the pain character’s ego and pride was that yes, he would probably be a terrible parent but he has Gosalyn and Launchpad to guide him. He has them to ground him and not let his ego overrun him into believing he’s such a big-shot hero because he stops supervillains with only a gas gun, smoke bombs and a purple mask. His family makes him human-- despite him being a duck. 

Now moving onto Ducktales 2017. In the episode ‘The BUDDY System’ when Launchpad is telling Dewey about Darkwing Duck being his favorite TV show and growing up on it he mentions an actor’s name: Jim Starling. 

Jim Starling plays Darkwing Duck. Remember that. 

(Fun Fact: the actor who voices the OG Darkwing Duck/Drake Mallard!91 does the voice of Jim Starling.) 

In my favorite and comfort episode “The Duck Knight Rises” we are shown that Jim Starling has suffered the same fate of Bo Jack Horseman: a washed out actor from the 80s/90s that is living on the steam of his former success. Jim is no longer as popular as he was back in the day, making money off of signing autographs and openings of less-than-desirable stores. It isn’t until Dewey mentions the fact that there is a Darkwing Duck Movie ready to release that we see Jim Starling happy and ready to jump back into the role. 

The Role of a Hero. 

We discover that Scrooge McDuck is the one producing the movie and after watching the trailer both Launchpad and Jim Starling agree that this isn’t faithful to the character. Yet Jim doesn’t really care, he wants to be back into the light and have the attention and adoration of an actor. Of being a hero. How very of Drake Mallard!91 of him. 

The director of the Duck Knight Rises movie tells Jim that he isn’t playing Darkwing Duck. A younger actor is. Outraged, he attacks the actor and is kicked out alongside Launchpad. Jim Starling believes that he is owed this role. That this role only belongs to him and no one else in the world. Roping Launchpad into his plan, here we see that Jim Starling never truly let go of his past when he slips on his old Darkwing Duck costume to play hero again. 

It is Launchpad that begins to question him when Jim starts to ramble about revenge, Launchpad still looking at his old idol with nostalgia tinted glasses and goes along with the plan. 

Here is where the analysis begins to pick up again. When LP sneaks into the actor’s trailer and immediately panics, locking himself, the Actor comes to his rescue. After some light fighting we see that the Actor is a big fan of the Darkwing Duck; possibly bigger than LP himself. LP does have a connection with the show but it seems that he Actor here takes it up more personally. That his whole ideologies and all of his morals came from a silly little show from his childhood and is the reason he is the way he is today. This whole movie is his big shot and a dream come true. 

Immediately after this, we see Jim Starling running around and knocking people out. Actually hurting people just to get back into the role he’s clinging on to. Paralleling the Actor’s acceptance of the role and Jim ready to draw blood because he can’t let go. 

Finally, we see the Actor and Jim Starling have a “sane” interaction. That it’s a huge honor to be here with him, says the Actor. That he wants to play the role of Darkwing Duck with Jim’s blessing. That they can do this together. 

But Jim wants this for his own. All for himself. 

After knocking the Actor out, we see a glimpse of how gone he is. How attention thirsty he is and that he will literally stop at nothing to get back on screen. 

The whole climatic fight of the episode is the Actor putting on his new Darkwing Duck costume and heading off face first into danger to save people as Jim Starling just snaps. The new confronts the old. With the trademark, goofy Darkwing Duck openings of I am the terror that flaps in the night but more modern. 

As they fight, it’s LP that finally gets to Jim with him telling him how much Darkwing Duck means to him and what it means to be a hero like him. As a power beam prop is ready to fall on top of LP, Jim does what a hero is supposed to do. Sacrifice. By pushing his biggest fan out of the way, he completes the role he has been yearning to play. 

They don’t find the body. (Yes this is a kids show). But here is where we learn that the Actor’s name is Drake Mallard. 

Drake Mallard!17. 

Launchpad is the one that convinces Drake Mallard!17 to be the true Darkwing Duck. For Jim. 

Jim Starling is what the OG Darkwing Duck was. Egotistical, wanting fame and attention, having all of the qualities that would make anyone doubt that he is truly a hero. The thing is that if Jim Starling only played Darkwing Duck, not Drake Mallard (because in this universe he is a real person), then it means that he didn’t have a Launchpad or a Gosalyn to ground him. Jim Starlings is what happens when a hero is isolated and is only a hero and not a person. 

Drake Mallard!17 is a person who becomes a hero while Jim Starling is an actor who pretended to be a hero. Jim was stuck in his own vanity, not having anyone truly reminding him that he isn't’ the roles he plays; that he isn’t Darkwing Duck. 

Drake Mallard is Darkwing Duck.

[bombshellsandbluebells]

2021 Year in Review

I was tagged by the lovely @iamnotawomanimagod and @dylanobrienisbatman :) Love ya both! We all made it through 2021 hallelujah!

Top 5 Movies You Watched This Year

I watch movies all the time but I have such a hard time remembering what movies I saw this year lol. Let me wrack my brain real quick.

1. Inside (dir. Bo Burnham)

I really, really loved Inside. As always, Bo gave us something that was funny, unique, out-of-the-box, and also, kind of painful in a too-real kind of way. I’ve been meaning to rewatch this one ever since I saw it to digest it better, but I haven’t quite been ready ready for the emotional journey yet.

2. The Green Knight (dir. David Lowery)

Visually stunning. The art director and cinematography in this movie is amazing and every single shot was beautiful to look at. And while it maybe wasn’t my favorite film ever, it was definitely a unique journey to go on. Glad I saw it. 

3. @Zola (dir. Janicza Bravo)

A wild ride. Definitely entertaining. Really creatively filmed and directed. 

4. Roshomon (dir. Akira Kurosawa)

A classic I FINALLY sat down to actually watch. I’ve finally seen a Kurosawa film.

5. Dawn of the Dead (dir. George Romero)

Loved it lol. I love zombie movies. Definitely enjoyed this one more than his original Night of the Living Dead.

Top 5 TV Shows You Watched This Year

Once again....I know I watched things lol but I’m struggling to remember what I watched so this is an incomplete list lol

1. Arcane

BEAUTIFUL!!! Absolutely obsessed with this series. The animation is beautiful. The writing is great. The characters are all very interesting. The character DESIGN is fantastic. The pacing is amazing. Just really, really loved this one.

2. Ted Lasso

I really love this one also. It’s both funny and sweet and earnest and I love that it can be both things without sacrificing one for the other.

Top 5 Songs of 2021

Shrugs.

I don’t really pay a lot of attention to what songs/albums I listen to tbh.

I listened to a TON of The Crane Wives though. Definitely my favorite artists of 2021. Also listened to the Hadestown album on repeat.

Top 5 Albums You Heard In 2021 Top 5 Youtube Channels in 2021

I’m stealing @iamnotawomanimagod’s :)

1. The Try Guys

My go-to relaxing, fun channel. They always make me laugh. I especially love their Without a Recipe series because as someone who bakes a lot and has a decent grasp of what should go in what I always get so stressed for them lol.

2. Sideways

I love this channel!!! Hugely recommend!! If you find music, especially musical scores in film/tv/theater interesting, you should definitely check this one out. Not only is his content fascinating, he’s also really funny.

3. Jacob Geller

Possibly my favorite channel ever - or at least in the top 5. Jacob Geller talks about video games, but not the way you would expect a youtuber to talk about video games. He’s not talking about walkthroughs or theories or how to beat the bosses or news - no he’s regularly getting existential and talking about life and philosophy through the lens of video games, and it’s fascinating.

Strongly, STRONGLY recommend this channel.

4. Mina Le

I’m not a super knowledge about clothes or fashion, but watching Mina talk about it is so interesting. She mostly talks about fashion through the lens of film/tv costuming and she tackles a lot of topics that deal with classism and other big issues as they relate to fashion and fashion history.

5. Micarah Tewers

Love her!!! I feel like she’s kind of replaced my Jenna Marbles needs of someone super positive and silly who’s not afraid to be herself and just does fun things that make me smile. She’s a super talented seamstress who also owns about a million animals and just lives life in such a fun and admirable way. 

Top 5 Books You Read in 2021

1. House of Leaves by Mark Z. Danielewski 

Technically this was a reread of a book I’ve already read before, but whatever. I love this book. I love this book so much. It’s my favorite book ever and it’s a dense brick of postmodern horror that might sometimes be too pretentious for it’s own good but is interesting and unique and worth it anyways. It’s my favorite book that I never recommend to anyone lol because I know it’s not going to be everyone’s cup of tea but I love it.

It was so worth rereading. I feel like I get something new out of this book every time I dive into it. And sometimes that something new is a headache, sure, but it’s worth it.

2. who i was supposed to be (a collection of short stories) by Susan Perabo

I picked this up randomly from a used bookstore I love because I liked the title, and I was really pleasantly suprised by this one. Every single short story is so well written and captivating. Really loved this one.

3. The Unfolding of Language: An Evolutionary Tour of Mankind’s Greatest Invention by Guy Deutscher

I love linguistics!!! Language is so fascinating!! And this was a fascinating book.

4. Playing Dead: A Journey Through the World of Death Fraud by Elizabeth Greenwood

Really interesting! A little slow to get through, not necessarily a page-turner, but all really interesting cases and information.

5. I’m Thinking of Ending Things by Ian Reid

I read this because I loved the movie, and while it was interesting and unique and Ian Reid is a great writer, I ultimately like what the film did with the story more than the original novel. Still a good read though. Incredibly depressing, but good.

5 Positive Things That Happened In 2021

1. This was my first year going fully freelance and working in the film industry full time and it went better than I ever expected!!! I’m so happy to have left my old job I didn’t really like and start pursuing something I really, really love.

2. Going along with the first point, I worked on my first feature!!! Which was kind of a disaster, admittedly, but still a huge accomplishment. :)

3. Working in a new industry means I met a lot of new people this year and made a lot of new friends, which is always great! Especially because my closest friends both moved out of town last year and it’s just not the same with them so far away.

4. My emotional/mental state was just way, way better this year than last year. 2020 was ROUGH. I’m sure it was for most people, but along with the shutdown and the pandemic fears, I was also dealing with a friendship going bad and feeling like a friend I really cared about suddenly had nothing but negative things to say to me, wasn’t in the right place job-wise and feeling miserable about it but terrified to leave the security behind to go freelance, hormone/auto-immune issues combining with likely undiagnosed ADHD and depression due to the everyting in the world basically meant I was super forgetful, foggy, unfocused, and lethargic like ALL the time which I just got mad at myself for.

So yeah. 2020 sucked so hard and 2021 felt so much better. 

5. I read 8 whole books in 2021!! I used to read all the time and haven’t read much since I left school, so I’m really, really proud to have reached that number. I think being in a better emotional/mental state let me pursue stuff like that more.

***

I know there was still a lot of bad in 2021 and the world still isn’t perfect, but overall, 2021 was a good year for me. A far better year than the one before. It had a lot of change, but it was all good change, and I feel like I’m finally doing what I’ve always wanted to do and it feels right in a way the past couple years just haven’t. I feel fulfilled!! And I’m excited for whatever 2022 has to offer. 

Also lots of love to all my mutuals!!

Tagging @laufire, @boomheda, @nicoleanell, @doortotomorrow, @saiyanqueenreads, @sarcasticdebate, @nomattertheoceans, @rosealie, @padawanyugi

Happy holidays!! <3

[val-aquenta]

Mace Windu Appreciation Week for the prompt: Vaapad and Shatterpoint. Fun fact I had no idea how to spell vaapad xD

Here on ao3

Mace moves the lightsaber in a familiar pattern, the kata’s he has created coming forth in his memories easily. The purple blade lights him up, giving his face and his clothes a purple hue. The colour is not the most special thing. Purple blades, indeed blades of any colour have been wielded, even the long-ago stolen darksaber with its unique colouring is not exactly novel. A result of an interesting crystal-Jedi pairing combined with the technology of the time resulted in the now unique colouring and sound. Mace’s blade being purple is not the most special thing. Jedi have wielded purple before. The kata’s though, those are special. Cyslin had called it a result of his ‘overeager imagination’ paired with his ‘dissatisfaction with the traditional forms.’ Perhaps she is right, she often is.

He swings the blade down in an aggressive strike before stepping back and twisting into a more defensive position. The form itself is neither focused on defence or attack, as it changes with almost every user. It is simply a way of focusing, of redirecting something not wrong or unhealthy, but sometimes unwanted, into something helpful. It is not limited to fighting, in this sense, but it also spans into everyday life. 

The door swishes open, and Mace sees a robed figure in the corner of his eyes. “You’re late.” Obi-Wan sighs, undoing the brown cloak and neatly folding it onto the benches. Mace stops for a moment, taking a small breather. 

“I know.” The contrite expression turns to him. “I am sorry, I had to help Anakin with his… never mind. It was a battle, to say the least.” The not exactly anger, but almost anger sparkles around him, crackling slightly in the Force with an unpleasant feeling. Obi-Wan jumps into some warm-ups, stretching his back and muscles when he’s done. Mace joins him. He calls the lightsaber to his hand, a bottle of water close behind. He takes a sip, offering some to Mace. Mace turns it down. He knows that if he drinks too much, he will end up vomiting at some point during or soon after the spar. 

“Ready?” Mace asks, settling into the familiar starting stance, the hilt held loosely to his side. It is not confidence or arrogance in his pose, it is simply a man who is aware of himself and, to a degree, of his opponent as well as their respective skills. With the frequent sparring and their growing friendship, Mace would like to think that he knows Obi-Wan’s skills decently enough. 

Obi-Wan smirks. He is not arrogant either, though there is a spark of confidence in his eyes. He knows, perhaps he won’t win, but he might, and he might as well have fun along the way. “Of course.” His blade springs, a bright blue hue, similar to the old crystal he had lost on Naboo. It lights up his face with a blue shade. The blade swings, humming as Obi-Wan shows off some ornamental twists before settling into his typical two-fingered soresu stance. His feet are on the floor, ready to move should the need arise, but also ready to stand firm. “I think it better to ask you if you are ready to lose, Mace.” The confidence is there, though Mace is unsure exactly how much is real and how much is part of the odd facade the man puts up during spars and fights. It is aggravating sometimes, but amusing most of the time. He can easily see how an opponent might get frustrated with the strange behaviour.

Mace snorts unimpressed at Obi-Wan's unnecessary twirls as well as his words, “We shall see who loses this match.” He thumbs on his blade, his lightsaber’s low hum joining Obi-Wan’s. “Wouldn’t want to get too cocky, would you?” He questions teasingly, a familiar smirk settling onto his face. 

Obi-Wan does not exactly laugh, but he might as well. The humour and delight sparks around him in the Force, soothing the jagged edges of frustration. “I’m not cocky, simply aware.” And with that, they clash. Mace rushes forwards, as he often does, keen on finishing the job right after it has begun. He also knows Obi-wan, with his form of soresu, won’t move to start the spar. The blue and purple clash with a sharp familiar noise. The crystals sing, a joyous song at the happiness and delight sparkling around them. It has been too long since they have sparred. There is a quick flick of the wrist, his blade falling away from the clash to counter Obi-Wan’s short jab at him. The jab turns defensive as Mace goes for a sweep. 

“Getting ahead of ourselves, Knight Kenobi? I did not take you for offensive measures.” Mace flips back, the blade coming around to take a jab that is deftly pushed to the side. Obi-Wan’s hands are somewhere above him. Any swings from the side are quickly blocked by quick flicks of the wrist. Indeed, Obi-Wan has become a Master of soresu as was his goal. Mace steps back for a moment after a few fruitless clashes. He takes a deep breath and really falls into the familiar feeling of vaapad. 

Nothing much negative exists to fuel his fight, but he would be idiotic to not be able to fuel his fight with positivity too. He channels the happiness at this spar into the fight, hoping to prolong the fight to reach a nice satisfying end. Obi-Wan’s eyes narrow, his long hair slicked slightly with sweat. He knows what Mace is doing and, before Mace goes any further, Obi-Wan is jumping forwards with a bold attack, more like his older ataru style. It is a high jump paired with a downwards slash, truly a clean show of acrobatics and stead practice in ataru. It, however, is easily blocked. Mace has sensed it before, has seen the move not exactly telegraphed by Obi-Wan’s body, but due to Mace’s friendship with Obi-Wan, visible from the bright blue eyes. 

Mace blocks and moves to the side simultaneously, humming as he wants to go up to the platforms suspended from the ceiling. He takes a lead up, effectively blocking the strikes aimed at his legs as Obi-Wan jumps up, jostling the thin platform as he lands. They trade blows, shifting back and forth in quick small steps. They trade barbs too, harmless ones filled with subtle joking and humour. Obi-Wan allows Mace to dictate the fight, and so he follows the man when he moves backwards onto a larger, more stable platform. “Scared of losing your balance, old man?”

Mace responds with nothing, narrowing his eyes. Talking during a fight, when not necessary like now, is not exactly something Mace loves. He aims a blow, packing a punch behind him that Obi-Wan struggles slightly to block. Obi-Wan takes steps back, pushed backwards until his feet tip at the edge. Looking backwards for a second, Obi-Wan takes a breath and pulls himself away, landing lightly on another platform, thin too and similarly jostling as Mace lands, not far from Obi-Wan. “Running away, are we?” He teases, pairing it with a heavy blow. 

“No. ‘Course not.” Obi-Wan gasps a bit, the hair turning a rather dark brown. Obi-Wan has supreme balance, as all Jedi do. There is a familiar hum as they draw on the Force to keep on the thin platform. They trade blows moving forwards and backwards. Soresu suits Obi-Wan, his blade easily blocking the heavy blows that rain. It would seem effortless if not for the evident fatigue on his face. Mace has had decades of training and perfecting his art form. Obi-Wan, not so much. His opponent has not spent enough time mastering his form, and it shows in the occasional slips to ataru. He’s not entirely… comfortable in this new form. Mace spots the final tell, a small slip that leaves him open. He takes advantage of it, rushing forwards and disarming the man with a quick flick of his blade. There is a stop, their heavy breathing filling the air around them while Mace falls down from the slight high that comes from the joyful fight with his friend. Redirecting the joy, it leaves him somewhat euphoric. It is not something he has a problem with during a real fight. 

“You’re getting better,” Mace says, thumbing off his blade, the purple light disappearing. While the blade was not at full intensity, it was still unnerving to have one close to one's neck. Obi-wan wilts, breathing heavily. “You’re still not fully comfortable though.” He notes. 

Obi-Wan nods, a little bit of annoyance at himself evident in the furrow of his brow. “I know. I’m just… used to ataru.” He takes in a deep breath, calming down his racing heart. Mace clips the sabre to his belt, smoothing out some of the wrinkles on the looser tunics he wears to spar. “Thank you, Master,” Obi-Wan murmurs, bowing in thanks. Mace looks at him, blinking in slight surprise. While he is a Jedi Master, it is novel that Obi-Wan refers to him in this more personal manner. It is significant, judging by the way Obi-Wan’s eyes search his, looking for the response. 

“It is my pleasure, Obi-Wan” Mace responds with a soft smile. Obi-Wan had wormed his way into Mace’s heart as a youngling once, then again as the student of his friend, and now as an equal. Obi-Wan smiles, his presence tangling with Mace’s, a happiness pulsing through the air. Something shifts and another shatterpoint forms at the cracks of another, hovering between them. He grunts a bit, hand reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose. Obi-Wan’s joyful face falls to confusion and worry. He steps forwards, a bit closer, his hands reaching out to rest on Mace’s. 

“Are you alright?” Mace nods tiredly in response. He’s used to it. It has been part of him his entire life. That doesn’t mean the ability is a pain to have on certain occasions. “Is it… another one?” Obi-Wan asks. He doesn’t fully understand Mace’s ability; it is hard to explain to someone who does not have the ability. Both able to see the cracks on physical objects, like the weakness within a transparisteel glass, but also sense the cracks bending towards important events. Anakin, Obi-Wan's padawan has many such cracks pulsing powerfully through the Force. The crack between them, a promise of something important sits like a ticking time bomb between them. Mace does not know if it is a bad thing or a positive one. He hopes the latter, for both his sake and Obi-Wan’s.

“Yes,” Mace responds, sighing deeply as the pain of a new crack forming falls away. 

Obi-Wan looks down nervously, hands fiddling in front of him. Usually, the long robe would hide it, but without the robe, the fiddling is evidence. “I’m sorry, Mace.” 

Mace shakes his head, “It is not your fault, my friend.” He reaches out and lays his hands on Obi-Wan's fiddling hands, stilling the nervous movements. They stand for a moment, calmly breathing. “Come on, my friend, I find myself in search of tea.” 

The ginger perks up, “I got a new sample of Felucian tea. I think you’ll like it.” Obi-Wan chatter excitedly, wiping at his face with a towel and pulling his lightsaber to himself and clipping it at his belt. “I don’t recall the name of the flower in it, but it’s named sweet tea. I haven’t tried it yet; I wanted to share a pot with you. It smelled heavenly though.” Mace listens, bemused, to the chatter about tea. “That is if you want to share a pot?”

“Of course I would.” Mace nodded, folding his outer robe over his arm, and following Obi-Wan out the hall. 

[pra370r1an]

The final (joke) chapter. Whole chapters under the cut

“There it is,” King Lilith gazed at the castle in the distance. “Camelot!”

“Camelot!” Ser Willow breathed.

“Camelot!” Ser Gus called in wonder.

“It’s only a model…” Eda remarked.

“Shush!” King Lilith quickly commanded. “Now let us ride! To Camelot!”

 “We don’t have a Lord,” Hooty said.

“What?” King Lilith asked.

I told you!  We're an anarcho-syndicalist commune!  We're taking turns to act as a sort of executive officer for the week,” King the fox explained. “But all the decisions *of* that officer has to be ratified at a special bi-weekly meeting by a simple majority in-”

“Shut up, would you?” King Lilith sternly said. “I get it.”

“Shut up, eh? Who does she think she is?” Hooty asked before resuming playing in the dirt. “Some lovely dirt over here King!”

“I’m your King,” Lilith said.

“Well, I didn’t vote for you,” Hooty replied.

“You don’t vote for kings,” King Lilith explained. “The Lady of the Lake held aloft Excalibur and decreed a divine mandate that I would be King.”

“Listen,” King the fox explained. “Strange women laying in ponds, distributing swords is no basis for a system of government. Supreme executive power derives from a mandate from the masses, not from some... farcical aquatic ceremony!”

“Be Quiet!’ King Lilith demanded.

The fox continued, “I mean, if I went 'round, saying I was an emperor, just because some moistened bint had lobbed a scimitar at me, they'd put me away!”

Lilith reached down and picked King up by the scruff of the neck, shaking the fox. “Will You SHUT UP!?”

“Ahh! Now we see the violence inherent in the system!” King smugly said. “COME SEE THE VIOLENCE INHERENT IN THE SYSTEM!!” He announced as he was shook, “HELP! I’M BEING REPRESSED!”

King Lilith dropped the fox and stormed away, “Damn Peasant!”

“See!? See!?” King looked at the small crowd around him. “That’s what I’m on about! You saw her repressing me, right!?”

 The evil Greater Basilisk looked around, “Wait, where did that knight go?”

*Scene change*

“Brave Ser Matt ran away” the bards sung as they followed their knight through the woods.

“No!” Ser Mattholomule objected.

“Bravely ran away away.”

“I didn’t!”

“When danger reared its ugly head, he boldly turned his tail and fled.”

“No! I didn’t!”

 “Tell your master that we’ve been charged by God to seek the holy grail! And he may join us if he’d like!” King Lilith shouted up towards the walls.

“Well, I will, but I’m afraid he’s already got one!” The man shouted back in his accent.

“What?” King Lilith asked.

“He said he’s already got one?” Ser Luz glanced around to see if she heard right.

“You already got one!?” King Lilith inquired.

“Oh, Yes! It’s very nice!” Belos turned and whispered to Kikimora, the Golden Guard and Warden Wrath. “I told her we already got one!” The three broke out in giggles.

“Well, can we come up and look?”

“Of course not! You are English types and this is a French Castle!”

“What are the French doing in England?” Ser Luz shouted up.

“Mind your own business!” Belos shouted. “Now I don’t want to talk to you no more! So go away English King and take your silly English Keniggets!”

“Listen, is there someone else we can talk to!?” Ser Luz shouted up.

“No! Now go away before I taunt you a second time!”

 “We found a witch! May we burn her!?” the angry mob shouted.

“I’m not a witch!” Bo yelled back. “They just say I am!”

“But she’s dressed like one!” Kat shouted, pointing towards her pointy hat.

“You are dressed like a witch,” Ser Bump ceded the point.

“Yes, but they dressed me like this!” Bo yelled, she pointed to her pointy nose. “This isn’t even my real nose!”

Ser bump examined the fake nose and turned to the crowd, “Is this true?”

“No! No! … Well, yes. Maybe. But she really is a witch!” Amelia insisted.

Bo looked to Ser Bump in exasperation.

“Don’t worry, we’ll figure this out! Now, how do you know she’s a witch?” Ser Bump asked.

“She turned my head into a giant eyeball!” Eyeleen accused by pointing.

“AN EYEBALL!?” Ser Bump looked in shock at the girl’s completely normal looking head.

“…I got better…” She looked around awkwardly.

“Burn Her!” Somebody shouted and the rest of the mob took up the yell.

 “There it is!” Eda pointed over their cover towards the creature by the cave.

“What behind the bunny?” Ser Willow asked.

“No, it is the bunny!”

…

“You silly sod!” King Lilith scolded as she stood from her hiding place.

“What?”

“You had us all worked up over a bunny!?”

“That’s no ordinary bunny! That rabbit has a vicious streak a mile wide!”

“HOW!?” Ser Gus asked incredulously.

Eda held her hand like a claw, “It’s got huge sharp, uhh…” She held her hands slightly apart, “It can leap about…” She pointed back towards the cave opening, “Look at the bones for God’s sake!”

“Right,” King Lilith gestured to a nearby knight. “Ser Snaggleback, cut its head off!”

Ser Snaggleback strode forward unafraid, “One Rabbit stew coming uAUGHHH!!”

“Holy!” “Jesus!” “Christ!”

“Run Away!” King Lilith shouted.

 Ser Luz held her shield protectively before her, as the denizens of Castle Anthrax slowly approached. Before her, the co-leader of this strange place informed Luz what was expected of her.

“And then! You must Spank her!”

“I’m sorry?” Ser Luz looked bewildered. “What?”

“She has been extremely naughty and you must spank her. Then? Spank me!”

“And me!”

“Me too!”

“Yes, you must spank all of us!” The woman gestured around to the beautiful women surrounding Ser Luz. They all looked thrilled at the prospect.

“I’m sorry, is this story too graphic?” Luz asked. “I was really worried when pra370r1an was writing it. But I think it turned out alright considering we’re all adult knights.”

“I mean at least my scene played with my mannerisms and my favorite minion’s name to craft a funny situation,” King said.

“And my joke was original and wasn’t a blatant rip-off of a movie from the 70s,” Eda mentioned off hand, Owlbert nodding on her shoulder.

“At least they didn’t mention the Moose?” Ser Willow mentioned, Ser Gus looking away horrified.

“Can we just get this over with?” Amity said looking annoyed, purposely looking away from the scene.

“Yes, get on with it,” Emira agreed.

“Yeah, hurry up!” Edric rolled his eyes.

“Ewch ymlaen ag ef!” The bearded huntsman from chapter 5 yelled, the fish hook servant and tall servant nodding in agreement.

“Get On With It!” King Lilith and her knights all shouted together.

“Oh, good! I promise this is the last bit of absurdist humor in this fic!” Luz smiled.

“GET ON WITH IT!” The cartoon depiction of God shouted from the heavens, shaking the view.

“Right, so…”

“Well,” Ser Luz looked around. “I guess I could stay for another night…?”

Behind her a door burst open and three armored knights rushed in, putting themselves between Ser Luz and the women.

“Ser Luz!” Ser Boscha took her arm.

“Boscha?”

“Quick!” Ser Boscha pulled her back towards the door.

“What?!”

“Quick! You’re in mortal danger!”

“What, I am?”

“No, she isn’t!” One of the women insisted.

“Silence foul temptress!” Ser Boscha raised her sword, only for Luz to grab her arm.

“That’s not necessary!”

“Come on! We’ll cover your escape!” Ser Boscha started pushing Luz back. The other knights retreated as well and the women followed.

“Boscha! I think I can tackle this singlehandedly!”

“Yes, let her tackle us!” The women shouted.

“No, Ser Luz! Come on!”

“No really! I can handle this easily!”

“Yes, she can! Quite easily!” The women agreed.

“There’s only 150 of them!” Ser Luz shouted as she was forced through the door.

“Yes, we haven’t a chance! Ahh, Shit.” They stopped as the knights followed Ser Luz out.

Ser Boscha continued to hold Luz’s arm, dragging her away from the castle. As they continued to argue.

“Looks like we got here in the nick of time! You were in great peril!”

“I really don’t think I was.”

“Yes, you were, terrible peril.”

“Tell you what? Let me go back and face that peril.”

“No, too perilous.”

“Just a little bit of peril?”

“Nope! Not healthy.”

“Don’t tell me you’re a homophobe.”

“I am not!”

  Eda held up her dismembered hand while shrugging, “It’s only a flesh wound.”

 “Ser Boscha! You came to rescue me!”

“Lady Skara!” Ser Boscha looked around wildly, lowering her sword. “You’re the one getting married against your will?”

“Oh, it’s just like the stories! I feel like I could… could!” Skara opened her mouth to sing. Disembodied romantic music started to hum around them…

“STOP THAT, STOP THAT!” Skara’s father came in, wildly waving his hands and the music died back down. “Who are you?”

“I’m your daughter!” Skara answered.

“Not you! You! Did you kill all those guards?”

“Uhh, oh! Yes,” Ser Boscha nodded awkwardly. “Sorry.”

“You killed 8 wedding guests and the groom and his father! And wounded 20 others!”

“Yes, uhh, sorry about that. Got a bit carried away there,” Boscha looked back at Skara briefly. “I can explain. See I was riding from Camelot…”

“Camelot? You’re uhh, from Camelot?”

“Umm… Yes?”

“Oh, well! Would you like a drink?”

“Oh, that’s awfully kind of you,” Ser Boscha allowed herself to be led away by Skara’s father.

“Yes, but to apologize for the damages you’ll have to stand before everyone…”

“Oh, uhh understandable.”

“…And repeat some vows from a priest…”

“Uhh, sure?”

“And kiss my daughter…”

“Wait, what?”

 “Halt! I am Tibbles! Guardian of the Bridge of Death! You must answer my questions to see the other side!”

“Ask your questions I’m not afraid!” Eda defiantly said.

“What is your name? What is your quest? And WHAT… is your favorite color?”

“Oh! Uhh, Eda of Camelot, I seek the holy grail and red.”

Tibbles waited a second before waving her along, “Alright off you go.”

“Oh, thank you,” Eda said as she started to cross the bridge.

“That’s it! That’s Easy!” Ser Mattholomule shouted as he moved up. “Ask me the questions, bridge keeper. I’m not afraid!”

“What is your name? what is your quest? And WHAT… is the capitol of Assyria?”

“Ser Matt! To find the Holy grail. And, uhh… Istanbull?”

Ser Matt was flung violently into the air by an explosion sending him tumbling into the ravine with a scream.

King Lilith and Ser Bump shared a look before the King stepped forward.

“What is your name? What is your quest? And WHAT… is the air speed velocity of an unladen swallow?”

Lilith paused before answering, “What do you mean? African or European?”

“I don’t know that,” Tibbles said before being violently flung to his doom.

“How do you know so much about swallows?” Bump asked.

“You have to know these things when you’re King,” Lilith said as they moved to cross the bridge.

They got to the other side, but Eda was nowhere in sight.

“Eda? EDA?! Now where did she get off to?”

*Scene change*

Eda had her hands against a cop car while Police bobby Kikimora patted her down for contraband.

 “My Brave Knights! We will take this Castle by Force! Now Follow Me! To GLORY!” King Lilith and Ser Bump charged with swords drawn, a massive army following them with a shout.

They made it a few feet closer to the castle’s walls when sirens announced the cop cars which slid to a halt in front of them.

“That’s them! They’re the ones who left the Coven!” Kikimora shouted as she emerged from the lead car.

“Alright, you two are under arrest,” Police bobby Belos directed. “Put that sword down and turn around.”

“Now wait a minute,” Lilith said as she was turned around and handcuffed. “I think there’s been a mistake!”

“Alright! Nothing to see here people!” The Golden Guard waved the army back. “Everyone go home now! Keep it moving!”

“Hey, You!” Warden Wrath advanced menacingly. “Stop Your Writing! Stop it Now!” He continued to shout as he reached out towards Pra370r1an to slap his hands away from th-..-_>--.-;’.-

 “On second thought, let’s not go to Camelot…” King Lilith decided, thinking on the many show tunes probably being sung right now. “Tis a silly place…”

Her knights nodded in agreement.

[bellesque]

idk if your requests are open still but royal loki concept with a midgardian reader— yeah? maybe? take it wherever you want from there and be creative because your other fics are and just amAZING! i might be late but anywayy— happy birthday, even though it was yesterday!

Midnight’s Mischief (Loki x Reader)

Read on my AO3.

Summary:

You only wanted to feel like a princess for a night.

You didn’t expect to meet an actual prince.

Rating: T

Word Count: 2.7K

Warnings/Tags: Fluff, Dancing, Royal Loki, some Cinderella Elements

A/N: Listen you can’t give me so much freedom like this because I feel in my bones this is going to turn into a multichaptered fic and I have a million other wips side-eyeing me rn

Tag List: @shiningloki @imnotrevealingmyname @wolfsmom1 @hanyasnape @lukeyirwy @toozmanykids @rorybutnotgilmore @myraiswack @green-valkyrie (Tag List is currently open! If you’d like to be a part of it, let me know!)

BEING IN A whimsical, fairytale ball has always been high on your list of escapism fantasies.

You wondered if princess parties (like the ones in movies) were actually real when royalty was still a thing. If they got to attend extravagant, lavish balls in venues that seemed to reach the high heavens, with castle corridors illuminated by candlelight and crystal chandeliers. Whether fact or fiction, you’ve never been more excited for a night than you are now.

Just for tonight, you allow the indulgence of looking—and feeling—like royalty.

Your heels clack against the marbled tiles of the venue as you and your friend Leigh navigate your way to the Regency Ballroom. Careful not to trip over your ball gown, you glance at Leigh. Beside you she shimmies, adjusting the top of her gown to fit her boobs better.

“I feel twelve,” she mutters, brazenly cupping her breasts.

“Oh, please. As if you’ve never wanted to be a princess for a night.”

“I mean, yeah, when I was twelve. And I’m saying this with love, but the fact that you’ve got on a fucking crown isn’t exactly helping me feel like an adult here.”

Your cheeks grow warm. “I’m sure I’m not the only one,” you say, a little defensive. “And by the way, it’s a tiara.”

Leigh smirks at you, perfectly painted lips curling at the edges. “Twenty bucks?”

“Fifteen.”

“Bo-ring.”

“Fine.”

She claps her hands, looping her arm with yours. The Regency Ballroom is right ahead. “I hope you know that I agreed to this because you said there’d be some yummy men. Potential knights in shining armor, all that jazz.”

“And I value your honesty,” you say, nodding a thank you to the servers who open the large doors as you approach. “But, for the record—”

“Whoa, the organizers of this thing were not playing.”

It’s true: the place is more than what you imagined from the email invite you received prior. Aside from the grandeur of the venue itself, the entire ambience transports you into what feels like another world entirely. Soft, regal music swells from the mini orchestra that plays on the raised platform, and everyone’s dressed in gowns of all colors and periods and styles.

It makes you a little giddy to see everyone commit to the event to such an extent. You wish this becomes a regular occasion.

“You don’t mind if I ditch you, right? If I, hypothetically, find someone cute?” Leigh grabs a glass of wine from a passing waiter. “Because I saw this guy in a tailcoat on the way inside, and he was kinda giving me looks already, so…”

Leigh is neither best friend nor fair weather friend. She’s in town for a few days, and having been partners in a high school class once, she somehow felt the need to ring you up, pleading for you to take her anywhere because she was dying of boredom.

You mentioned that you had an extra ticket, and she said yes before you could even finish your sentence and tell her it was to a costume ball.

“Hey, no worries,” you beam, plucking the wine glass from her fingers and taking a dainty sip, “by all means, mingle! Meet someone! Get swept off your feet! It’s a party. It’s what I was going to do whether or not you came anyway, so don’t be too guilty.”

“Okay, great!” She kisses you on the cheek. “Because he’s kind of already waiting.” Leigh jerks her head to the buffet table across the room, where a broad-shouldered man stands tentatively, shifting his weight from one foot to another. He’s clearly waiting for someone—that someone specifically being Leigh, if the not so surreptitious glances your way are any indication.

Before she can leave, a lady with a hoop skirt that’s draped more than the large windows of the ballroom comes into your peripheral, something glittering atop her bouffant hair.

You lift your chin at Leigh triumphantly. “Pay up first, baby, you saw that tiara.”

“Fifteen.”

“You said twenty!”

“I changed my mind!” she calls as she lifts the hem of her gown off the floor, retreating. Laughing, Leigh waves and you bring up a hand as the man places a meaty hand on her shoulder blade.

Well. You knew you’d lose her for the night. Just not this quickly.

Still, what you said is true. Leigh’s absence doesn’t dampen your mood. You’re happy standing by the tables at the side, observing people and their different gowns, with a glass of rosé in hand. Couples trickle into and out of the ballroom dance floor; others mingle by the tables like you, occasionally nibbling on the fanciest finger food you could ever imagine. The light reflecting from the gorgeous, majestic chandelier dances over the partygoers, and you revel in the moment, wanting to commit this to memory. Simply existing in it. The minuet transitions into a waltz, and more people and their partners taking to the dance floor with excited grins on their faces.

You would like to take your dress out for a twirl at some point before the night ends. If only a gentleman were to ask.

“That’s a lovely color on you, my lady.”

Speak of the—you turn around, glad you didn’t startle so much to the point of spilling perfectly good wine, to face whoever spoke to you. A subtle smirk plays on the face of a lithe man dressed in what looks to be costume straight out of a period film. Or fantasy period film. It doesn’t really make sense, but somehow he makes it work.

You glance down at your gown: a rich forest green with silver detailing cinched around your waist. “Oh, uh… thanks.” You smile politely.

Only it falters after a couple seconds, because he pins you with an expectant look. “My… lord…?” you try, uncertain.

Satisfaction spreads across his face, confusing you mildly. Did he really wait to be addressed…?

“Would you care to dance?” he asks, taking a step towards you and bending forward. A bow, you realize, as he holds the posture while awaiting your answer.

“O-okay, sure.”

You slip your hand in his outstretched one, his slender fingers clasping around you and leading you gently to the middle of the dance floor. His back is as straight as a board as he guides you towards him, and when you’re a pace away he pulls you closer. His hand settles on the small of your back, yours on his shoulder.

And then you’re waltzing; slowly, tentatively, shyly. Though he takes the lead you can’t follow as well as you should, your bafflement blocking you from waltzing like you do in your daydreams. And as weird as it sounds, he’s distracting you from dancing—even if you’re dancing with him.

He’s good-looking. Strong, cutting features with a regal gait. He stands much taller than you are, his head angled down towards you so his green eyes pierce you with the intensity of the sun at high noon.

He doesn’t break eye contact with you. As much as you try to look away, fixate your attention instead on the couples that sway around you, your gaze always finds his. And he probably hasn’t looked away from you once. There’s no malice in it though—he regards you with somewhat of a silent, amused curiosity.

If it’s awkward to be dancing with a good-looking stranger who seemingly can’t take his eyes off you, it doesn’t help that you’re both painfully silent. You expect him to make polite small talk as he guides your steps—only aside from the lovely orchestra playing and the faint chatter of the attendees around you, all that’s heard is the sound of your breathing.

The music winds down, violins sustaining their last note, and your expectations are shattered once again when instead of this mystery man guiding you into a twirling finish, he spins you into the next dance.

Another waltz.

“Do I scare you, princess?” he asks, raising his chin slightly.

You jump a little at his sudden question. “Um. Maybe a little?”

The man sighs, giving a short chuckle as he shakes his head minutely. The hand on your back releases you as you circle around him, one of your arms outstretched as gracefully as you can manage, before you come back in front of him and rest your hand back on his shoulder.

“Perhaps my reputation does precede me,” he mutters.

You blink, even more confused now. “Sorry?”

“Do you…” He narrows his eyes in near disbelief. “Do you not know who I am?”

“I think I’d remember if you told me your name,” you say with a sheepish laugh. Of course you’d remember. With a face like his and the rich voice to match, meeting him on a night like tonight? You’d remember it forever.

“Ah. Then—forgive me, my lady.” He pulls away from you to bow cordially. “Prince Loki, of Asgard.”

Stunned doesn’t seem to cover the emotion racing through you. No one else seems to mind that you’ve both stopped smack dab in the center for him to bow to you with a flourish of his cape. He looks up at you, expectant, yet again, and so you hastily curtsy and mumble your name.

He rises, taking you once again in his arms and picking up where you left off in perfect rhythm to the music. It’s a little disorienting. Your mind struggles to catch up: so far he’s bowed to you twice, is leading you through a perfect waltz, and is, apparently, a prince.

“And your kingdom, my lady?”

“What?”

“Am I to believe you’re a princess with no people to rule over?” he smirks.

And then somehow, realization dawns on you: he’s an actor. Trying to get you into some kind of fantasy, medieval, whatever character to really sell the idea to yourself that you have actually been whisked away, into a story akin to fiction.

“Okay,” you snort, “since we’re doing this whole made up thing, fine, I’ll humor you. Uh”—you rack your brains, glancing at the chandelier overhead—“Genovia.”

“Genovia,” Prince Loki repeats, as though testing the name on his tongue. It comes out melodic and velvety, making you shiver involuntarily. “Sounds… quaint. Not as dreadful or painfully dull as some of the other kingdoms I’ve heard of tonight. What in the Nine is New Jersey?”

You laugh this time, an actual belly laugh, your head tipping back in mirth at his delivery. You sober up sooner than you’d like when you see he’s still absolutely mystified.

“Well, that’s what it is,” you add helpfully. “Genovia… it… yeah.”

“What are your people famous for?”

Damn. He’s really making you think. “Gosh, um…” You blow out a raspberry. “Horses? Apples? Archery? Oh! Mattress surfing.”

Prince Loki hums thoughtfully. “I’ve never heard of it.”

Either he’s an exceptionally good actor, or he really hasn’t seen The Princess Diaries. Or, a part of you begins to argue, he could actually be who he says he is—

But that wouldn’t make sense.

Could it?

“Well, what about you?” you say quickly, seizing the opportunity to deflect. “What’s uh, what’s Asgard famous for?”

“The Realm Eternal,” Loki says, completely serious. “Warriors of strength, leaders of justice.” He pauses at your lost expression. “Have you not heard of it?”

You have a feeling he has more to say, so you shake your head. Prince Loki spins you around once, before continuing.

“Asgardians are the peacekeepers of the Nine Realms, endowed with strength of all facets to keep the realms from falling. Thwart the possible dangers it can be to itself before it starts, or finish disputes where they arise. We protect. Asgard plays a vital role, if not the most vital of all the realms.”

“And you’re their prince.”

The corners of Loki’s lips curl upwards. “One of them.”

“So you have a brother.”

You’re not sure why you’re still entertaining him at this point. The waltz’s cadence does nothing to separate you from each other, and neither does the lively first note of the polka. Instead Loki’s leading you into a quicker step, bouncing in the most poised manner you’ve ever seen a man dance in.

“Aye,” he says. “Most prefer him to myself.”

“I prefer you,” you blurt out mindlessly, immediately feeling regret in the form of heat crawling up your neck.

Prince Loki’s piercing green eyes light up in surprise. “Not many would,” he murmurs.

“Well, I mean—” you backpedal, “—I don’t—I haven’t met—”

The entrance to the ballroom rattles in its hinges, followed by a booming thud. Heads swivel to the source of the commotion and even the orchestra falters. You are no exception, craning your neck to look behind Loki and at the doors.

He is the only one who seems completely unfazed.

“Perhaps that is for the best. Ready for our big finish, princess?”

Bang! The doors swing open, and strange men in very detailed costumes—metal armor, odd-shaped helmets—charge in, long spears in hand. Your mouth falls open. You’ve never seen anything like them. The attendees gasp collectively, some dancers pulling away from their partners to retreat to the sides of the room.

But Loki places his hands on your hips, lifting you off your feet and into the air, and instructs, “Eyes on me, princess.”

“Wh—” He spins you around, the world around you blurring, and you fix your attention on him so as not to get dizzy. “Prince Loki, I think we should get ou—”

He sets your feet on the ground, a mad intensity in his eyes—and Loki wraps his arms around you and kisses you.

Well. You’ve had multiple daydreams about how tonight would go. This is definitely not one of them.

His arms tighten around your waist, and swarms of butterflies erupt in the pit of your stomach. Your feet are on the ground, but with your fingers and toes tingling with every soft movement of his lips against yours, it feels like you’re floating. He’s kissing you. You’re kissing him.

The clanging of armor jolts you apart, but Loki keeps you within arm’s reach. Your heart pounds against your sternum.

“I like it when you say my name,” he murmurs.

“Prince Loki!” one of the strange men shouts. The prince in front of you flinches slightly, and then huffs in amusement.

“Don’t like it when they do.”

“I—what?”

Loki sighs. “I’m afraid I have to bid you good night. And farewell.”

“Wait, who are they?” Question after question presents itself, your mind a jumbled mess and your knees still shaking from that damn kiss. “What do they want?”

“The Einherjar. Ah. Well.” He brushes a thumb over your cheekbone. “What’s life without a little mischief?”

“Your Highness!”

“Where is he?”

He pulls you by the elbows, pressing a chaste kiss to your cheek, and whispers in a voice that could melt butter, “Something to remember me by.”

And then he takes off, a cheeky grin splitting his face as he keeps his eyes trained on his pursuers, slinking through the crowd and towards a nondescript door. An exit.

The strange men sift through the partygoers. Some shake their heads in fear, cowering; others shrug. You simply hope they do not approach you. And by some mad stroke of luck, when they’re a few feet away from you—they ignore you entirely.

Loki catches your eye by the small archway, and with a mischievous wink and a heartstopping smile, he disappears with a flash of his green cape.

You exhale, a little shakily, as one armored man shouts instructions and points to the door. They bolt after him, each footfall thunderous. A few seconds tick past, and once the clatter disappears completely the orchestra warms up again.

Back to normal. Just a little. But you—you’re still reeling from what just happened.

Leigh sidles up to you, poking your side.

“So,” she says, “who was the knight in shining armor, and what’d they want with him?”

His kiss, the feel of his mouth against yours, still tingles at your lips, lingering like the warmth of a fire. You stare at the open door, still trying to make sense of what on Earth just happened.

“I… I think I just met a prince.”

[zelskzerker]

Mangadex went down so I read alot 6/7

Lets CONTINUE reviewing a bunch of isekai and related stuff I binged because mangadex went down. 

Yakuza Reincarnation

Chapters 1-23

THUMBS UP. [Insert isekai startup genderswap redux here] but this time the guy was an infamous yakuza. So you get to see a yakuza member yakuza it up all over an isekai world that is being slowly corrupted by demons. You get classic yakuza-style events such as dealing with drugs but this time with the isekai twist of the drugs being made by/parts of demons. Does what it says on the tin exactly with no dissappointment.

Shindou Yuusha to Maid Onee-san

Chapters 1-13

Ah yes. Chiaroscuro. A beautiful mix of ecchi and tragedy. Have the ecchi be oneshota and it is even more to my tastes. THUMBS UP. Best girl would be... Ibris.

Keizoku wa Maryoku Nari

Chapters 1-13

At first I thought it was JUST lolishota porn. Big surprise that there was actually a plot. THUMB IN UPPER CORNER.

Saikyou no Shokugyou wa Yuusha Demo Kenja Demo Naku Kanteishi (Kari) Rashii Desu yo?

Chapters 1-31

Mixed opinions. At first I was annoyed by the complete bumbling idiocy of the MC and how god just lets him win everything and the long establishment of the furry hero and little loli. Really dragged in the middle there, but this manga curries my favor went it then went on to degodly power the MC, punish him for his foolishness, and even provide small mystery hints of WHY he is like that. Still hasn’t brought back the boing boing elf so thats an immediate THUMB IN THE MIDDLE.

Sabae to Yattara Owaru

Chapters 1-10

MC wants to date a yamato nadeshiko but doesn’t realize that the bff trying to hook him up is the far superior cutie. Sabae has a round face, big boobs, powerful tomboy energy, and translation makes her use funni slang. Comparing to the popular SUGOI DEKAI, girl and guy here are more aggro towards each other. THUMBS UP.

Girlfriend Who Absolutely Doesn't Want to Take a Bath VS Boyfriend Who Absolutely Wants Her to Take a Bath

Chapters 1-17

Who doesn’t want a stinky neet-leaning gf that they have to lelouch into a bathtub? THUMB IN THE UPPER CORNER.

Oddman 11

1-END

Dowman Sayman confuses me on a spiritual level. This manga has the faint feel of Yozakura Quartet, notably in the slice of life moments in the latter. No 5 is the go to best girl, but you GOTTA shoutout the madlad No. 8. No.4 and No. 11 are my favorites though probably. THUMBS UP. 

Kamitachi ni Hirowareta Otoko

Chapters 1-31

[Insert isekai startup here] but this time its a shota given OP power by gods because his real life was shitty. He is a pure-type shota, which is actually rare for isekai shota MCs. Makes for a really cute MC, ontop of him being a slime researcher to add a bit of uniqueness and rpg progression. Gotta love slimes and MC leads a literal horde of him. My favorite part however is the history of the world and the small tales of previous isekaiers and how they altered the world in some small and some big ways. I just LOVE LORE. Biggest issue is that translations seemed to stop for no reason. Shame. THUMBS UP. Actually the anime is further along and has a second season soon so MAYBE WATCH THE ANIME INSTEAD.

The Wrong Way To Use Healing Magic

Chapters 1-42

THUMBS UP. Where to start with this absolute banger. First off, don’t expect amazing high tier magic casting, or intriguing world systems. This one is about healing magic. Specifically, getting buff AF by healing your body once its busted up from way too rigorous exercise. This joke gets played alot alot. Distinct characters with memorable moments for each. My favorite is the vampire girl because duh. Heal your way to victory! 

Tensei Kizoku no Isekai Boukenroku ~Jichou wo Shiranai Kamigami no Shito~

Chapters 1-33

[Insert isekai startup here] but this time its a shota and the powerscale is BONKERS. Like not even pretending the character’s power level is of sanely understand. The tier at which there is an arc of him training in the hyperbolic other god’s world for like  FIVE YEARS and the being re-shotafied for normal world. THUMB IN THE UPPER CORNER. If you want stupidly overpowered shota then here it is.

Gunbured x Sisters

Chapters 1-19

I mean. Extreme EXTREME horny yuri nuns fucking and flirting each chapter. And then the other 50% is a mystery about vampires and others and fighting them off. It knows what it is. And I love it. THUMBS UP. Whew I guess I like the mechanist girl best? That or the the tomboy knight.

Kenja no Deshi wo Nanoru Kenja

Chapters 1-46

THUMBS UP.  [Insert isekai genderbend redux here] but this time its a video game where the MC was one of the strongest people. And the video game world has progressed some time since MC enters with their new little girl model. Plot is the MC trying to find the other sages, but hasn’t found any yet. Lots of fucking around in a video game world. MC gets sidetracked easy ESPECIALLY by food so expect random worldbuilding chapters about food or luxury train or bath or yuri or

[thelittleredheadedmusician]

Sunrise Shadows

Rating: G 1,882 Gen AO3

It was late, or early depending on your perspective, and Steph was that bone deep tired that came after a fight to save the fate of the world. Which was fine, they’d won, but she didn’t really know where in the world she was and Steph really just wanted to crawl into bed. Maybe take her suit off first. Possibly slap some Neosporin on her cuts and scrapes. But mostly sleep.

She flicked through the channels on her comm, trying to find one not already filled with chatter. The all clear had been called about ten minutes ago now and clean up was well underway. But Steph was a Bat so it’s not like she could be much help clearing rubble or relocating displaced civilians. Her skills lay in kicks to the face, sassy remarks, and boots on the ground interpersonal interactions. Heck, not to mention she was only sixty percent sure she was currently standing in Prague. It might be Vienna. All Steph could do now was sit on the rooftop and wait.

The sun was rising on her left and she had lost track of time at some point but Steph was fairly certain it’d been dark in Gotham when she left. Taking a zeta from the Batcave to the Watchtower and stomping down the glee she still got whenever the computer announced her arrival as Batgirl.

Oracle was coordinating everything from the Clocktower which was lucky because the chaos on the comms made it sound like the Watchtower’s tech was down. No wonder she was still sitting here watching the sun rise over Eastern Europe. No Watchtower, no teleporting back to Gotham. Plus, the speedsters and, well, everyone else sounded a little busy. Making Steph with her super minor injuries, minimal destruction of public property, and... blondeness? (She was really tired; her brain was running out of battery and the internal monologue was losing steam) very low on the list of priorities.

Kicking her feet a bit, Steph allowed herself to get comfy on the edge of the roof. Thankfully, her thigh belt made it through today’s encounter meaning her snack supply did too. Steph pulled a chocolate chip granola bar out and tore it open with relish. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was until she started chewing. Then her stomach growled.

Steph was on her third granola bar and making a physical note in her phone to restock once she slept when she heard her name as part of the litany of sound that floated across the main channel.

“Batgirl? Batgirl this is Oracle, please respond.”

“This is Batgirl,” she said quickly, before someone could interrupt. The Flashes had been narrating rescues without realizing it seemed.

“I’m pinging your location as still in Prague, is this correct?”

Huh, Steph had been right the first time. “Uh, yeah O. I’m just waiting for retrieval.”

“Noted. Sorry about the delay. Dispatching a pickup to your current location.” Babs was all business as the abrupt cut of her switching to a different channel echoed over the line.

Steph waited, check ins and confirmations filling the empty space Oracle had left. She was still listening in, they all knew, just having a private conversation with whoever was playing ferry. Which honestly was kind of weird. Who wasn’t on the main channel right now? And what made them so special the almighty Oracle deigned to give them their own channel in the middle of all this? Ok, end of all this, but still. Steph was Babs’s friend, protege, pain in the ass, and she didn’t even get a private page.

“Oracle to Batgirl,” Babs came back, brusque. Though Steph thought it was just a mix of exhaustion and the voice modulator.

“This is Batgirl,” Steph tried for chipper and landed somewhere decidedly south of it. Honestly, she was just glad everyone else on the line had gone silent at the word ‘Oracle.’

“Please keep your current location, pickup will be arriving soon.”

Steph didn’t even get the chance to say thanks before Babs was moving on to the next thing, which was apparently sending Blue Beetle to help with a fire in San Antonio.

Turning her mic off, Steph settled in. Soon meant anywhere from five minutes to an hour in these types of things. At least she had a nice view and some snacks left in the meantime.

Movement out of the corner of her eye had her turning away from the sunrise. A shadow on the rooftop behind her seemed to shift. Steph blamed her growing exhaustion for making her see things but the shadows seemed to deepen, darken even as the sun climbed.

Instincts kicked in, Steph swung her legs around and scrambled from the edge of the roof. She flicked her bo staff out. Stepping lightly, Steph crept towards the spreading darkness. It was off, the kind of weird that put her on high alert. And it was getting impossibly darker.

Something seemed to be taking shape in the blackness, moving towards her from the depths. Steph was reminded suddenly of Peter Pan as a lone figure of shadow separated itself from the rest.

In a blink, Steph wasn’t looking at a man made of shadow, but a man. An impeccably dressed man with a top hat, dark glasses, and a silver topped cane that glinted in the morning light.

He smiled at her, but Steph didn’t change her stance. “You must be Batgirl,” he said in an accent Beryl would describe as posh. Steph suddenly missed Beryl and hoped that Knight and Squire made it out of today unscathed.

“And you are?” Steph tried for snarky as she lowered her bo staff to point at him. If he knew who she was then maybe he’d know better than to pick a fight with her. Steph was so tired she didn’t actually think she could win. She feared she wouldn’t even be able to hold him off until her pickup got here.

“The Shade,” he smiled as he said it and there was something more than pride.

Steph narrowed her eyes, but otherwise didn’t move. “I’ve heard of you. Whose side are you on today?”

“Always my own,” the smile twisted into a smirk at his joke. “Though currently I am assisting your Justice League.”

Cautiously, Steph collapsed her staff and straightened. “Technically, I’m also a private contractor. I’m guessing you’re my ride?”

He hummed and Steph couldn’t tell if he was annoyed and hiding it with amusement or amused and hiding it with annoyance. “I apologize for the wait. There was a bit of a misunderstanding between myself, a Mr. Constantine, and a, uh, Phantom Stranger about who was to come here and who was to fetch the Teen Titans from South America. Apparently, their jet was rendered inoperable.”

Steph laughed to herself at Tim and his team getting stuck. She could just imagine Rose and Cassie arguing. The demigoddess and ex-assassin both too worn out to do anything but snipe at each other. Or maybe Cassie and Kon were doing cleanup, leaving the rest to wait like Steph had.

The beginning of The Shade’s apology came back around to the forefront of Steph’s mind. It explained why Babs had switched to another line, that was a list of some relatively antisocial/social to only very specific people magic users. They probably weren’t too thrilled to be used as a superhero ride share either. So, their own line? Made sense.

“Totally understandable,” Steph waved off. “It’s not like I have anywhere else to be.”

The Shade smiled and inclined his head. “Thank you, Miss Batgirl. Now, if you would?” He held out a gloved hand, though his gloves were silk compared to her own reinforced leather with proprietary Wayne Tech rubber grips.

Still a tad leery, Steph’s desire to go home and fall asleep far outweighed any concern over going anywhere with The Shade. He wasn’t a Gotham villain, arguably wasn’t a villain at all, and she did kind of have a monthly midnight brunch with Harley and Ivy. And Selina seemed to have permanently moved into the Manor. Not to mention Steph started her crimefighting career stopping Cluemaster, her dad. So, Steph took his hand.

He took a step back into the shadows and Steph went with him. She caught him glance at her out of the corner of her eye as the shadows rose up and began twisting around her ankles first. He seemed surprised, but Steph was just as at home in the shadows as him. Granted, the inky darkness that was consuming them faster by the moment was darker and much much colder than the ones she was used to. Not to mention sentient.

Soon, Steph was surrounded by the darkness. She no longer felt entirely real. The only way Steph was even sure she existed was the weight of another hand holding hers. Her thoughts came and went before she could even register them. Suddenly, it all came back to her: Steph was being taken back to Gotham courtesy of The Shade and his shadows. She couldn’t see him but the grip on her hand told her he was there, somewhere in the black. That grip began tugging her forward and Steph walked.

One step.

Two step.

Three step.

The world around her seemed to lighten incrementally, though Steph had no idea how she was able to tell.

Four step.

Five step.

On the sixth step the darkness lifted, uncurling from around her until she was left standing on the rooftop of the GCPD in the shadow of the Batsignal. An inky puddle under her feet and a few tendrils still slipping off her calves.

The Shade lifted their linked hands, almost as if he was passing her off at a ball in a period film. Steph took her cue, walking towards the floodlight that shone in the still night sky. She let go of his hand once she was firmly in its glow.

Steph turned back to him though, wanting to thank him before he disappeared. What came out of her mouth instead was “That was so strange.”

He chuckled, “That generally is the sentiment when I accompany someone.”

“What’s the sentiment when you don’t?” she asked before she could stop herself.

“Abject terror.”

“Ah.” Well she did ask. His smile flickered somewhere in the direction of sly. “Right,” Steph sighed. “I just wanted to thank you for this. I know you’d rather not do this-”

“Understatement.”

“-but I really appreciated it. So, thanks.”

He tipped his hat in an absurdly gentlemanly way. “You’re very welcome. Just, don’t expect it to happen again.”

“Noted.” And then Steph did something that could only be chalked up to extreme exhaustion.

Steph shot finger guns at The Shade.

He smirked and the shadows gathered around him. The Shade stepped backwards into the growing darkness. Then he was gone.

Smacking her head, Steph turned towards her apartment. She flicked on her mic as she pulled out her grapple. The voices in her ear had disappeared when she went into the shadows but came back as soon as she stepped out of them.

“Batgirl to Oracle,” she cut in and swung out over Gotham.

“Go for Oracle.”

“Consider me home and signing off for... Signing off.”

[unreachablevoice]

Oneshot? Daminette Oneshot!

OKay, you see, I’ve been reeaaallly wanting to write about people crying for a while now for some reason (don’t ask me why I legit don’t even know). So I thought, why not make a oneshot? So BOOM! here it is! (even though I should've been writing my other Daminette and/or Maribat fics)

Anyway, I just learned that writing about people crying SUCKS! Like, why is it so effing hard???? Why did no one warn me about this??? (I mean I should’ve seen it coming either way because EVeRYTHING ABOUT WRITING is hard). So I am very sorry in advance if this isn’t as good as it... whatever it is??? hahahaha because I gotta tell you, I just did this on a whim because WRITER’S BLOCK! THAT DUDE IS SO ANNOYING!!!

Oh and you know, I’m not sure if this is considered angst? Angst with Happy Ending?... So I just researched about it and asked ma chérie belle and she said yes? But I’m still not sure so I’m just going to tag it as one.

Anywho, umm the first part of my Daminette Age Gap AU just received 400 loves (that’s what I want to call it cuz I think it’s cute leave me be!) so let’s just say that the sole purpose of this oneshot is to satisfy my craving for crying stuff and to celebrate those 400 loves (thank god for convenient coincidences) that I received from you wonderful peeps!!!!

Enjoy~!

Warning: Swearing and cuss words are present. Please read with caution, thank you!

I’m Not Scared Of Anything, But Losing You Would Be Terrifying

Cruising down the alleyway with his Father right beside him in his Batmobile, the sirens of police cars rang in his ears.  

They had received a call from Commissioner Gordon not too long ago, saying how Scarecrow had escaped from Arkham and is causing havoc in a café somewhere. It would’ve been fine to just leave it with the GCPD and a few from their team but some reported that he was making a new concoction of his Fear Gas. Something much more intense.

Skidding to a stop, he takes off his helmet and walks to where his Father and the police were conversing.  

“Robin.” the Dark Knight nods to him as he places himself next to his looming figure.

Crossing the police tape and getting inside the café, Robin comes face to face with Scarecrow. A gun in his hand, pointing at the hostages as he laughs maniacally.  

“Scarecrow!” Batman calls from beside him, “Enough is enough! Let them go!”  

The villain throws his head back and laughs loudly, earning a snarl from both of the vigilantes.

“You see, dear Batman,” —Scarecrow raises his gun— “I’ve been wanting to try my new experiment.” he smirks at them and cocks his gun with his other hand.  

“And you’re just the right person for the job.”

Not a second after, his goons began ambushing them.  

Three goons began to circle him with their guns in hand and a demented smile on their face. If he hadn’t seen Scarecrow command them himself, he might’ve thought that the Joker was the one leading the attack.

With quick work with his Batarangs, he swiftly flings their guns out of their grasps.  

Seeing as how they’re disarmed; one goon throws a punch to his face. Robin’s hand immediately shots out and blocks his punch and twists it in a direction he was sure was not possible an arm could handle.

The goon screams in anguish, which gives Robin a momentum to punch him square in the face with his free hand and watches as the goon's nose drip with blood.  

Dropping the now passed out goon, he turns to the other two goons and kneels down and pulls out a Bo Staff.  

Letting out a battle cry, he lunges at them and whacks them to their side, which throws them to a few tables. The sound of cracks bringing satisfaction to his ears.

Finishing the goons, he turns to Scarecrow and sees him still sporting that smug smirk on his face. What’s his motive? Why is he still smiling even though they’re practically beating up his henchmen?

They briefly catch each other’s eyes and the villain’s smile grows even wider.

Robin scowls at the villain and readies himself in a battle stance.

Without even having the chance to take a step forward, Scarecrow raises his gun and shoots at his direction.  

Quickly sidestepping the bullet, he looks back at the villain, “You should really work on your aim.”

Scarecrow smirks at him mockingly, “Was I really aiming for you?”

What?

He looks behind him and sees a tank of Scarecrow’s Fear Gas punctured by his bullet.

Holy shit.

His eyes widen and he reaches to his utility belt to pull out a gas mask, but before he was able to put it on his face, a goon tackles him to the ground. Causing him to loosen his grip on the said mask.

“Fuck!” he mutters as he tries to wrestle free from the goon’s hold. “Get off me!”  

As he struggles to be free, he feels the mist cloud his vision. Blurring his surroundings and making everything indistinguishable.

“Get up!” he hears someone yell at his ears and the goon that was holding onto him disappears.  

He abruptly stands and closes his eyes shut. Clenching his jaw, he reminds himself that none of what he’ll see is real. To dismiss everything and pay it no mind because they are not real.

His breath becomes ragged and his heart thunders against his chest as he hears voices around him.  

‘None of this is real!’ he chants to himself and covers his ears.

The sounds slowly began dissipating and everything went quiet. Too quiet.  

“Damian!” an angelic voice suddenly cuts through the silence and calls out to him.

‘Habibti?’

He slowly and warily opens his eyes and is immediately met with a different environment.

Gone was the café he was previously in; he was now in a park surrounded by trees and some benches on the side. The sun was also shining brightly and the birds were chirping. Everything seemed perfect. Too perfect.

He looks down at himself and sees that he’s no longer wearing his Robin uniform but regular civilian clothing.  

‘What am I doing here?’

“Listen to me!” the sweet voice calls out to him again.

“Wha—?”  

“Look at me!” the voice shouts again and he feels his every being shake. Making him lose his balance and fall on the floor.  

“Marinette?” he calls out and looks around. Where was she?

Whipping his head around, he is immediately met with a mop of blue-black hair.

Relief floods his whole being as he stands up and goes over to her, “Hey, I’m here,” he smiles and reaches for her hand.

“No!” Marinette shouts and slaps his hand away. Only then did he notice that her comforting gaze had turned into a sharp glare. Her beautiful blue bell orbs gone as a dark sapphire blue filled with anger replaced it. Why was she looking at him like that? Had he done something wrong?

“H-Habibti—?”

“Stop calling me that!” he winces at her tone and Marinette’s scowl deepens. Her hands ball into fists that he was afraid she’d cut her skin with her nails.  

“W-What are you—?” he hastily reaches out to her once more.

“SHUT UP!” she shouts and everything shook again. Her face, still sporting that scowl, looks at him with disgust.

“I can’t believe I ever dated you,” she spat and steps back.

Damian recoils as though he’s been slapped in the face. He feels a twinge in his chest as though his heart has been pinched and punctured. No, please. She's the only thing that stayed in his life, don’t let her go now. Please.

“Marinette,” he calls as his hands reach out to her again, in to which Marinette avoided in distaste.  

Seeing how angry and disgusted she looked at him made something inside of him shatter. Was he that horrible to make her not want him touch to her? Was he that disgusting?

“Mari—”

“I can’t even stand to look at you right now.” he flinches as though he just received a punch to his gut. He wanted nothing more than to scoop her in his arms and cry and ask what he’d done wrong, but he can’t do that when she’s sneering at him with abhorrence.  

“I hate you, Damian,” she glowers in that tone that he hated so much. The one that he never wanted to be directed at him. But now it was.

He drops down to his knees and crawls to her feet, “I’m sorry,” he cries out.

Tears began to pool at the corner of his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he repeats in a strangled voice. But Marinette won’t even look at him anymore.  

“W-Whatever it was, I’m sorry,” he choked out as he pleaded at her feet.  

Marinette kicked at his hand away and seethed, “Don’t touch me,” she hissed as though his touch was dirty. He was dirty.

“I don’t ever want to see you again,” he blanches at her statement. His hands shook as big blobs of tears drip down his face. His heart beating sporadically as his ears rang with how everything seems to sound louder.

“Plea—”

“We’re through.”  

Everything felt numb. He couldn’t feel anything, couldn’t hear anything. Just that phrase repeating itself over and over again in his head. More tears began flowing down his face and he felt like he could drown, like he couldn’t breathe.

He couldn’t believe that he’d one day hear those words. That those pink lips, those very same lips that he would kiss senselessly, would say that to him.

Marinette glares at him one last time and walks away, leaving him with his despair and depression eating him up.

He had always wished that this day would never come. But not all wishes come true. And now, he’s watching as the girl of his dreams, the love of his life, his girlfriend for four years leaves him. Leaves him and never comes back.

“P-Please,” he sobs as he reaches out to her disappearing form. “I promise, I’ll do better. Please, just don’t leave me.”  

He stands up and attempts to run after her. But he couldn’t. Hands were holding onto him and stopping him from running after the bluenette. Feeling like the whole world was against it. Like they wanted to see him suffer.

“No!” he shouts and thrashes around, trying to get the hands, that bound him to where he stood, off. Why were they so against it? So against him? Did the world really not want him to be happy?

“Please,” he wails and just stands there, letting his tears fall as the world takes away the only thing that made him feel free.  

He stood there and broke down as he watched his love disappear from his world; from his life. He cries out and screams shamelessly as he mourns for her dying love for him. As he hears and feels his own heart break from her rejection.

And he feels it. Feels their stares. Feels the whole world taunting him on how he just lost the only person who’d stayed by his side and accepted him. Making fun of how they knew he couldn’t do anything about it. How he was powerless.

He shuts his eyes tight and slides to the ground, wishing that this was all just a dream...

No.

This is not a dream. Because dreams are beautiful.  

This is a nightmare.

As he sits there and cries for Marinette, he feels a small prick on the back of his neck. And another. And a third. Then the slight cloudiness of his mind disappears as everything went black.  

————————

Fluttering his eyes open, Damian is met with a white ceiling and warmness on his face as the sunlight crept through the window.  

He lets out a groan and rubs the side of his head.  

‘Where am I?’

Roaming his eyes to check where he was, a flash of recognition comes across his green orbs. He was in his room. How?  

A soft click resounded from the door and captures his attention as a blue-black blur emerges, seeming to be whispering with something at the door.

‘What’s going on?’

He rubs at his eyes and groans again. Everything was bleary and his mouth felt rough and dry. What was he doing here? Back in his room? Wasn’t he at a café before?

“Dami?” he flinches at the voice and feels a warm sensation on his forehead.  

‘What is this?’

Damian reaches up to the warm... thing on his forehead and grasps it, trying to feel what it was. Was it... a hand? Why was there a hand touching his forehead? Wasn't he alone in his room?

Furrowing his eyebrows, he looks up to see a black—kind of blue—blob?... What the fuck?! Wha—What is this? What exactly is he seeing right now?

He raises his arm and tries to grab at the blueish black blob. And by grab, he meant fight. He was fighting to get the hand on his forehead off. Fighting to reach for the blue-black blob.

“Dove, calm down,” the blob speaks as it holds on to both of his hands to steady them. “It’s just me.”

Suddenly, his eyesight began clearing. The blurry things that he was seeing were no more, everything began getting clearer.  

The blue-black blob that he was trying to fight (and he was definitely not losing) was finally turning comprehensible.

His eyes widen at the thing—correction, person in front of him. His breath hitching and his heart beating against his chest as he stares at those familiar blue bell eyes.

“Habibti?”  

Marinette smiles softly at him. That same smile she always used to tell him that everything is all right. That smile that always seemed to make him feel calm, no matter the situation.  

“Yes, it’s me.”

Damian chokes out a sob and feels his tears pour down his cheeks again. He reaches out to her and buries his face on her chest, trying to relish the feeling as he was afraid that everything—that this might just be a dream.  

“Oh, dear.” he hears her mutter and feels her hand pat his head and smoothen his dark locks of hair. And it eased him a little. Made him feel that he was not hallucinating and that he was safe.  

“I heard what happened,” she says in that tone, that voice that sounds so soft and caring that it made him cry harder. “Your brothers said that you inhaled Scarecrow’s new concoction of Fear Toxin and that it was so strong, they had to triple the dosage of the antidote.”

Marinette continues to rub circles on his back and cradle him back and forth as he continues to cry. Making him feel like he was a child, safe in his beloved's arms.  

“I wish I could have been there,” she whispers and holds him tighter. Something that made him feel safe and away from the world, even if her arms were dainty and delicate. “Could have helped you.”

Damian feels his emotions and cries come back tenfold as he remembers what he saw when he was still influenced by the Fear Toxin. How hurt and devastated he was. How his whole world fell apart.  

“I-I thought—” he hiccups, “—you were going to leave me.” he sobs harder and feels the spot on her shirt where he was crying go wet.

“No.” she pulls away from him just a bit and looks at his face, “I will never leave you.” her voice so raw with emotion, so sincere that it made him cry and thank whoever was up there that they are together.

She reaches up to his face and caresses his cheek, “I love you.” she smiles and kisses his forehead. Her lips so soft against his skin that he sometimes wondered if he just so much as to touch it the wrong way, would it tear open and bleed a pretty red color?

“I love you too.” he croaks out as he feels his voice go hoarse with all the crying. God, if his brothers could see him now, they’d for sure tease him for the rest of his life.

————————

OMAKE: 

Marinette – *is lying down with Damian tucked in her arms* Wanna tell me about it?

Damian – ...It was terrifying.

Marinette – I thought you said you were fearless?

Damian – *pouting* I am! But that was seriously horrifying!

Marinette – Don’t you mean SCAREy?

Damian – UGH

Marinette – HAHAHAHA XD

Damian – You have got to stop hanging out with Grayson

————————

Edit: Okay, I forgot that I was suppose to tag people.. sorry ^^; and uh I’m still not sure on how to do this whole tagging thing so I’m sorry if I missed some people 

Tags:

@thornalchemist23

@abrx2002

@k-poplunardreams

@joejoejodee

[duchess-of-mandalore]

Kenobi Show Idea

Korkie Kryze and his friends escape after Satine's death and end up going ... somewhere. Idk, but considering he's not in any of the other episodes in spite of the fact that he's clearly got military training and whatnot, they probably disappear for a while. 

After the death of his pacifist "aunt" (his only real family since his “mother” Bo-Katan's been gone so long), Korkie determines that Satine's mentality of peace was completely ineffectual (I mean, look at what happened!). He dives into his military training whole-heartedly and believes that justice can only be pursued by a strong hand that takes up the offensive when need be. 

(I’m not sure what his thoughts would be on the rise of the Empire ... but obviously, that’s all happening in the first couple of years after Satine’s death)

He harbors a sense of resentment toward Satine for basically opening up Mandalore to attack by asserting their neutrality in the war, and this half-justified animosity continues well into Korkie’s adult life. It’s clear that he’s never dealt with Satine’s death (and probably the fact that he couldn’t save her). Instead, he’s stuffed his grief down and hidden it in anger.

Eventually Bo-Katan comes clean and tells him that he's the son of Satine and "that Jedi knight who spent a year protecting her." Korkie's shocked but it explains a lot, including his appearance and the fact that as a kid there were several moments that (he retroactively realizes) he displayed a minor force-sensitivity [he’s a mirror of Luke, who never knew about his force-sensitivity until he was basically an adult and Obi-Wan gave him the language to describe his differences].

Desperate to know more, Korkie ends up somehow tracking Obi-Wan [or rather Ben] down in Tatooine.  Obi-Wan is shocked, but probably not terribly surprised that Satine never told him. 

(Also, I demand Liam Neeson come back so that Force-ghost Qui-Gon can basically just smile knowingly and shake his head because it’s just so obvious that this young man is the son of his former padawan and the fiery Duchess of Mandalore)

I’m not really sure how Obi-Wan would react to Korkie’s presence at first (I think he accepts that Korkie’s his son basically without hesitation because he can feel that it’s true), but I could see Obi-Wan being a rather grumpy and frustrated man at the start of the Kenobi show, perhaps due to the isolation (there’s only so much even an introvert like Obi-Wan can take) and the frustration surrounding Owen and Beru’s refusal to let him have a relationship with Luke.   

Ultimately, the Kenobi show is the growth of Obi-Wan and Korkie’s relationship. Obi-Wan trains him as a “sort-of” Jedi, though it’s difficult. Not only because he’s an adult and very headstrong, but Korkie’s very resistant to the ideas of surrendering to the force and finding peace through meditation, since all of his unresolved issues that he had shoved down come flooding back. Obi-Wan’s grief over Anakin rears itself again as he trains his new “sort-of” padawan, and of course the topic of Satine’s is a weighty and difficult topic for both of them.  

The rest of the show (which I’m hoping is just one season long; relatively short and sweet) is Obi-Wan and Korkie fighting some local threat together, keeping Luke safe from afar, and working through their issues and grief regarding everything that has happened to Satine, Anakin, and the galaxy in general.

Regarding how it ends: You could say there’s already a problem with Korkie being force-sensitive because it raises questions about where he was during the original trilogy (and his whereabouts would have to be accounted for later on in terms of Luke truly being “last Jedi”). Perhaps he’s force-sensitive, but doesn’t pursue it further. I’m not sure, but what I refuse to have happen is for Korkie to die on Tatooine (dying, inevitably, in Obi-Wan’s arms). That would just be rubbing salt in too many wounds.

Still, I see this story having a satisfying but melancholy ending. I think that at the end, Korkie would leave to go back to whatever his duties involving Mandalore are. He would return with a much better understanding of Satine’s pursuit of peace and the Jedi way, which would make him a better leader. Obi-Wan is more at peace with what happened with Satine and Anakin and with his purpose in continuing to watch over the Lars homestead. But I think they both know that Korkie can’t come back to Tatooine again, since it risks drawing too much attention to Luke and Obi-Wan’s presence, so their parting is final, but full of new-found love for one another.

(Ugh!! I really have to tell myself not to get too attached to this idea in case the writers have no intention exploring this!! Stop it, stop it ... attachments only lead to pain!!)