#I think in terms of pure skill needed it looses out

[dumbledore-and-grindelwald]

The Scamander Brothers

Being absolutely pure and precious on its own right, the deleted scene of the Scamander brothers was really beautiful for their characterisation.

In CoG Newt was the brother who is more strict in his worklife. He’s not as flexible, he likes rules and order. He enforces the law and he likes the law. Newt questions it more. He doesn’t want a jeskjob or any job that restricts him too much. His aversion to the ministry is enough that he does not accept working for them even when that means that Grimmson will be sent after Credence. He does not visit Theseus even though Theseus keeps inviting him. He acknowledges that Theseis is a hugger and it seems that he knows his broether wants him close, but he does not feel the same way. Theseus is rightfully angry when Newt uses his face to enter the French ministry and Newt takes too much pleasure in seeing Tina subduing Theseus. He only allows his brother close when Theseus is mourning Leta.

The deleted scene is an amazing transition between the two movies. It’s been years since Leta’s death and Theseus mentions that he hasn’t been at Newt’s in some time. Despite Leta not being between them anymore they are not any closer. Theseus seems dismayed by that. Newt clearly chose it, but he seems slightly ashamed when Theseus mentions it. It’s quite clear that Theseus is a carer. He has taken care of Newt’s creatures and he’s taking care of Newt himself. I think that sometimes Newt purposefully forgets this kind, loving, protective side of Theseus. Probably because Theseus pursues are socially accepted and being a carer is Newt’s thing, os seeing Theseus in that role is strange for him. Newt is burdened by being the younger brother who feels he needs to live up to the older one. He kind of resents Theseus.

I love that Albus has brother-trapped them. He has asked Theseus to take care of Newt, giving him little information. Not only does this let Theseus in on the Qilin and brings him into the mission without leaving the decision up to Newt, who would have been a little resistant. He reinforces the bond between the brothers before even asking them to work together. Newt looks at Theseus with such an expression of wonder when he hears that his brother sang to the Qilin. Albus and Aberforth cannot bond over their childhood, but the Scamanders can. When Theseus starts singing, Newt revels in the memories of them as children, and he cannot help smiling. And of course there is the Qilin. It has an affinity to Theseus too because he sees his kindness and that’s not only an undisputable affirmation of Theseus being a good person, but it establishes another point of connection between him and Newt.

Then Newt, who has always been the baby-brother, the one whom Theseus had to look after, to heel and to ask not to travel abroad when he was not allowed or to look after himself when he was being watched, has to take care of Theseus when his brother is captured. And even though Theseus is good at caring for creatures because of his natural instinces, we see them having to get out of a situation with creatures that are threatening. This time, it’s Newt’s skill, his ability to adapt and his experience with wilderness and with unpredictable and dangerous beasts that allows them to survive and demonstrates the importance of his own skillset. Theseus on his side has to learn that success may come from unlikely skills and that he cannot always be in control. He learns to fail. He has to try to let loose. The brothers have to move past their comfort zone both in terms of their personality and in terms of their relationship.

[woodblxssomcrowned]

Headcanon :: Beauty

CW : Body shaming, body insecurity

"I am beautiful, brilliant, powerful, and brave... I am worthy of being loved and admired for myself.... I am...I am...."

Kaname definitely tries to tell herself she's beautiful, but she doesn't really believe it.

The Senju are an incredibly diverse bunch I'm terms of appearance, mainly thanks to their pretty open view on having outsiders marry or be adopted into the clan, and they could come from wherever and bring new elements into the genepool.

You could see anything from very fair skin to deep tan, and from pure black hair to silvery white and all shades and hues in-between. Although shades of brown hair are most common.

And Kaname and Danma both look pretty generically Senju. For as long as she can remember she’s wished that she looked more like her mother.

Her mother was beautiful. With her crimson red hair, and black eyes that flashed indigo blue when light hit them just right.

Her appearance was striking. When she stepped into the room, she was impossible to miss, impossible to not let your eyes linger on.

She was beautiful, powerful, bold and clever. She was a fuinjutsu master and an exceptional kunoichi, and she's respected and well-regarded as the Senju clan's matriarch. Not to mention gutsy enough to seal away a tailed beat within herself with an experimental seal on her own, and be the first one ever to do so. She was everything Kaname wanted to be. What she thought she should be. She had no female role model she looked up to more than her.

But Kaname believes herself to fail on all fronts. She's not particularly clever, feeling consistently dumb and frustratingly uninformed when locked out of accessing information most of her family and friends have access to. She's not powerful, and doesn’t get chances to prove that she could be, or the support needed to reach her full potential.

And in truth she doesn't think of herself as physically beautiful.

She likes her eyes; doe-like and deep, dark brown. And most of the time she likes her arms. She likes how strong they feel and look.

Shinobi men on one hand value strength and skill and fighting ability, on the other hand being petite and slender is part of the general beauty standards for women which tend to also be sought after traits in shinobi women.

Although Senju women are generally on the taller side, Kaname is shorter than most of them thanks to her mom. But compared to the average woman, she's still taller than most.

Even compared to civilian girls who worked hard in their daily life, she has the very noticeable athletic and buff build that tends to be seen in shinobi.

By her late teens and adulthood, there’s nothing delicate about her body.

She thinks she doesn’t fit the model of the ideal woman of shinobi or civilians.

She hates the unsightly scar under her eye which is just another reminder of her own weakness, something she's ashamed of. It's not a battle-scar she can wear proudly.

She has nothing about her appearance that she finds striking or unique in any positive way.

Like the rest of her existence she finds her appearance to be plain, unremarkable and forgettable.

She definitely tries to hide it with barely maintained confidence and attempts to put effort into her appearance though hair, makeup and clothing. Fake it until you make it, and all that. If she couldn't be respected for being strong, maybe she could somehow make people respect her for being attractive at least? She hides the arms and shoulders she likes, and her curves under a loose haori to seem smaller. But she was nonetheless once called vain and superficial, and that she should put more effort into training instead of her looks if she wanted to be respected.

She broke four of his ribs when that statement made her see red, and got into trouble for it.

[angstyantoinette]

Yandere! Armin Arlert Headcanons

AGED UP I REPEAT ALL CHARACTERS ARE AGED UP-

This little blonde ball of curiosity is verrryy toxic in my Yandere version. 

Armin knows how innocent he looks to other people and by playing on this, coupled with his practical and analytical genius status, boy is it so very easy for him to gain the trust of his comrades, friends and especially his Beloved. 

I feel as if Armin wouldn’t be picky with a particular type, but never being attracted to an unkind or particular person he would be disgusted by in any way. 

He may fall for someone who is slightly colder, or who doesn’t really know how to respond to kindness. In that scenario, Armin would be overjoyed, but very patient and giving with them; if he wasn’t Yandere. 

I see him as very touch-starved and wanting, but afraid to be clingy for fear he would drive his Beloved away. In this case he would dote on you as best he could in his environment, making you fall for him even more. 

You would him as endearing, and like most, innocent. Armin is smart; one might say way too smart for his own good, and being a Yandere, I feel this makes him just as dangerous as those willing to use physical violence/methods on their Beloved. 

He knows that you just love his little quirks and his way of thinking. If you tell him this, he may think you only see him as valuable because of his skill for strategizing. But when you reassure him that you just love him for him, he just falls in love with you even more. 

He’s worrisome about you. Every time he makes practise with your ODM gear until you’re bruised, and exhausted, ready to run into his awaiting arms. Rewarding you with cuddles and affection, Armin’s love isn’t exactly conditional; but it still isn’t normal.

But that’s if you accept his feelings, with Armin being a Yandere or not, and with your knowledge or ignorance. 

If you don’t accept his feelings, whether it being for your personal reasons, or because you…um, like someone else, to put it nicely; 

YOU’RE FUCKED. 

He’ll smile, nod his head, maybe try a little too hard to act like he’s okay with your decision. But you understand, after all, it’s not like you haven’t been rejected before. 

“We can always be friends, Armin! I’m here for you okay?” 

“Yeah, Y/N, whatever you say…” 

About a few weeks after his rejection, with all of the support from Eren, Mikasa and the others, Armin is slowly descending into a deep depression. 

He was so sure of his feelings for you. They were his most prized possession. You made him laugh, you made him blush and god you made his pitiful life seem so much more worth living. You were the ocean, and he just wanted to drown myself in you. Like the sun he saw so rarely, you were the ray of pure light that made his body burn. 

He lay awake at night, taunted and enthralled with the thoughts of you in so many different scenarios….maybe in particular, different positions. 

[Yes, those kinda positions. Armin’s not always that innocent, y’all.]

He knows that the more he thinks of you in these appetizing ways, in these hurtfully satisfying scenarios, he’s never going to be able to get over you. 

Rather, he’s not even going to try.

Being trapped in his fantasies, Armin is horrifically aware that these feelings are incredibly toxic, for the both of you. He just won’t let you go. Whatever it takes, Armin will commit whatever crimes he must to keep you in his life. 

He sees you as being misunderstood, especially if you’re typically a colder person, hard to read, detached. Some people compare you to Levi, but Armin just knows that you, like the Corporal, have far more depth than you let on. 

His intrigue doesn’t let up for a long while, as you’re constantly surprising him in new and amazing ways. You’re used to his deep interest in you after a while, but you still don’t understand him. 

Armin thrives on your confusion at first, but if it drives you away from him, he’ll go into tactical mode. Staying up all night,figuring out who is calling your attention to them rather than him and what his next move should be. 

With his intelligence, Armin keeps his sizzling bafflement and envy under wraps. He tells himself that maybe he had unerved you a little. He can get like that sometimes, surely you understood him well enough to know that?He obviously did find you interesting and he was willing to momentarily abandon Eren and Mikasa just to fuel his endless curiosity. 

Keep in mind, this is after you reject him, and his desperation to just know you and love you is greatly overwhelming him to the highest degree. You just won’t allow him to really see you, to understand you. 

Eventually, he snaps. Just not in the typical yandere way. We all know that Armin feels as though he is a nuisance, a self-proclaimed burden so he keeps most of his feelings inside, and lets them loose to either prove a point, or while under stress. 

It takes a minute for him to decide what to do with you, because he knows that once he has made a choice, it has to be the right choice. He has to know and map out a detailed plan, whether it’s doable, whether he’s able to pull it off by himself, etc.

His analytical skills come into play, and he plans everything from the location, time, the equipment needed at exactly what time. By this time, he will have comepletely left you alone; abrupt and brash, and just as he planned, you were surprised. Yes, he wanted to get to know you, and you couldn’t help but feel even slightly violated and maybe even disturbed. 

Your like anyone in the world, have natural curiosity and interest in just about anything. But the unfamiliar feeling of unsettlement around Armin just felt…off.

You secretly knew of his deep infatuation; people always seemed to determined to figure the silent types out, to crack them open, decipher their many secrets. In terms of this analogy, you sort of understand, maybe even sympathise with his endless novelty toward your character, but even so…just why?

Maybe it was the fact that you felt bad for him, in a sad, puppy love kinda way. Maybe you saw him as a traumatized individual, just putting his assumed coping mechanism to work, with you just in the innocent line of fire. 

If he kidnaps you at all, Armin will smother you. Telling you how much you mean to him, explaining that only he can access your wonder and intrigue. Because, after all, he worked this hard to get you; why would he ever share you with anyone else? 

Although he will be stern, he’ll always be nice about it, rewarding you or not. 

You’re an enigma to Armin Arlert, keeping him guessing, testing his patience with all of your being. You don’t know it, but soon you’ll be in his possession.

I headcanon him as seeing your refusal, your blatant rejection as some kind of ‘disease.’ You haven’t even seen the best of him yet, why make up your mind about something that you know almost nothing of? Oh well, you’ll have plenty of time to get to know each other very soon. He’ll bare his injured soul to you, and you’ll have mo choice but to do the same for him. It’s what married couples do after all, right?

Just let him love you, Y/N. Let Armin adore you. It’s the best thing to do if you want everyone to live.

Glassy, still sapphire eyes simply stared at you in the weak light of a stolen candle. You couldn’t quite pinpoint what they were saying, those beautiful, dangerous, albeit loving eyes. But yet, they also held malice in their abyss’. Endless, bottomless, simply divine they were. That was all you knew.

“Why…do you lie to me?” he murmered. A small, rough palm came to rest against your hollowed cheek, fingertips gently tapping against the skin. Realising how close he truly was, you tried your hardest to get away, shifting in your place in the surprisingly plush, old bed, but all it took was a flash of blonde hair to whip past your face, before he succeeded in holding your arms down.

While he never did this explicitly to punish or harm you, Armin always knew just how to exert his power. Never mind the boundaries that he installed in you the day of your arrival; he didn’t care for them as much as you had to pretend to.

This Armin was unhinged. Normalcy could never be considered in this relationship. He could never understand the pain he put you through. To Armin, it was all in the name of his devotion. All of his interest had been rooted in one fact; you refused to love him.

Once he figured out that you wouldn’t couldn’t love him of your own accord, he became enamoured with something he just knew he could never have.

He had never even thought about taking you, drugging you, dragging you to a secluded spot in the woods, or an out of bounds room, derelict over many years.

“I never intended to take you like this, bunny.”

Swallowing hard, you tried to look him in the eyes, gently lifting your head higher and higher until his blue pools of mere unhinged insanity met your own pained orbs. Seeming to like this, he smiled.

His perfect teeth looked more like fangs in the dim, weak moonlight. It had felt like he had managed to suck every molecule of beauty from even the most simple of things.

His voice sounded like the devil; harsh, unforgiving lilting tones of false hope daring to stroke you face and make you think you had a good chance at happiness.

You didn’t know when he stopped being Armin and began being a monster. You didn’t know if the lines could be blurred any further.

“I never wanted this, Armin-” 

“Don’t play with me, bunny,” he snapped. His slender fingers wound themselves in your clean hair, twisting and searching for a soft spot to pull. When he found it, he lightly tugged; barely, but you still winced from the thought of the last time he did this. 

You still wanted to believe that he was quiet, sweet Armin who still had an unstoppable fascination with you, but he was harmless then. Or was he? Was he faking his intentions? Did he have it planned from the very beginning? 

You wanted to choke yourself for believing his simple demeanour, his dedication to the cause of the Survey Corps just like everyone else. He was a liar. He was a predator in all ways, ensnaring you, his perfect prey. 

Only now had Armin realized just how confused you were. 

You didn’t understand his love for you. You thought he hated you! 

Now that wouldn’t do.

Armin could have have kicked himself. All of his stern discipline and rules stemming from his love and protection meant that you mistook for him being cruel. He was doing this out of his devotion! 

How could he assume you would understand if he never told you, if he never proved his love?

“Armin, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean anything, I swear-” You took a deep breath, cutting yourself off. Now was not the place or time to be losing your composure; you still were trying to get used to the fact that you were being held against your will. 

“Hush”, he suddenly murmured, gently taking your chin in his fingertips, before moving them to tenderly cup your face, his eyes darting anywhere that he could lay his gaze upon.

The gestures were so tender you found your cheeks erupting with a wild blush, the burning shame hitting you moments later when your hatred and slight fear hit you like a slap to the face. 

Your embarassment only got worse when you felt his soft lips kiss your throat, his warm breath flush against your skin. His hands found themselves back in your hair again, stroking it, petting it, twisting it round and round his finger. His right hand caressed your nape, spreading his fingers so that they only just covered the width of your neck, and he pulled you closer, so that your head was nuzzled into his neck, buried beneath his love and fascination.

It all clicked. 

Armin wasn’t just interested in you. 

He was obessed with you.

Obsessively in love with you. 

You felt pathetic. You felt weak. But in a strange way, you also felt loved. 

You had no choice but to resign yourself to his touch, letting your head fall limp as he cradled you to his chest.

“Good bunny.”

[fanficshiddles]

Keep Running, One Shot

Summary: Loki enjoys hunting Midgardians for sport now he is their ruler. But when he sees you, he decides to change it up a bit... Just for you. 

WARNINGS: Rape/non-con, forced orgasms, mention of murder, predator Loki!

Your legs were burning in agony and your muscles screamed at you to stop, along with your lungs that were starting to struggle to give you enough breath as you ran.

But you needed to keep running. You HAD to keep running.

You couldn’t stop.

Or Loki would catch you.

And you couldn’t let him do that.

Since taking over Earth, the King had an incredibly cruel and sadistic side of him. He loved to hunt for sport. But not animals, no...

Humans.

Everyone on Earth knew about this cruel game he enjoyed playing every few months. Not caring about a mortal life, taking it so easily from them. He would pick a handful of mortals and drop them into his simulation world.

It was a large building, the size of three football stadiums. It was set up like a forest this time, plenty of trees and even a running river through it. It was dark, not pitch black, but dark enough for your eyes to play tricks on you.

Loki would set the mortals loose in his world and give them a five-minute head start to run or find somewhere to hide. He would then enter and start the hunt. Taking out his prey one by one, using one means or another to kill them. His favourite was getting up close and personal, using his dagger to take them out.

No one ever won the game, no one ever survived it. Loki was too cunning, too skilled and of course because he was a God, he never lost against the humans. He knew it, and they always knew it.

Which is why when your name was picked, you knew it was the end.

But it wasn’t going to stop you from trying to escape. Especially because Loki had set a different challenge for you. Which was a first.

The rule of the game was as long as you made it for an hour without being captured, you would be set free.

When Loki had laid eyes upon you during the line-up at the start, he’d taken an extra special interest in you. Eyeing you up and down like a piece of meat, gripping your chin between his fingers and looking down at you with a wicked smirk, you knew at that moment you were in trouble.

You weren’t running scared in-case he killed you… no. You were running because he said if he caught you, you were going to become his personal sex toy for the rest of your life or until he got bored of you, whichever happened first.

To make it more interesting, he said that you had to last the full two hours without him cumming inside of you and without him making you cum. Once they both happened, you were his.

But he claimed he was a fair God and would give you a good chance at winning. So even if he caught you and started fucking you, if he hadn’t cum inside you AND made you cum by the time the alarm blared, then he would set you free.  

To make things more fun, Loki didn’t allow himself to use his Seidr. Simply using his stealth and speed to easily capture the mortals.

Every noise around you made you jump and panic. But you kept running around the forest, hoping to keep enough distance from him.

Some people opted to hide. But Loki always found them.

You knew you were the final one. You’d heard the screams for every other player that was with you as they were caught by your King. And to your horror, you came across a few of them in the aftermath.

After running for god knows how long, you couldn’t keep it up any longer. You started to slow, needing to catch your breath. You were so out of breath as you leaned against a tree, trying desperately to calm yourself down.

But that’s when you saw a flicker of green out of the corner of your eye. You hoped it was your eyes playing tricks on you, but you had a feeling it wasn’t. And you didn’t want to take that risk. So you forced yourself to keep moving.

Soon wicked laughter echoed around you as you moved through the forest, amongst the leaves and dirt scuffling against your trainers.

‘Do you really think you can outrun me, pet?’ He chuckled. ‘Oh, but it is so much fun chasing you. I do love to play. That’s why I left you for last.’ He growled.

That’s when you heard heavy booted footsteps coming after you. Glancing over your shoulder, you could just make out his gigantic silhouette. The horns from his helmet giving him away completely.

‘Run, run, as fast as you can, little girl. But you won’t get away from me.’

Letting out a scream of pure fear, you tried to run faster. The adrenaline and fear coursed through you, pushing you onwards further and further.

After a moment, it seemed that he wasn’t chasing you anymore. Surely you hadn’t been able to outrun him? You slowed to try and catch your breath again, it felt like you were going to pass out from lack of oxygen, you turned around to look for him but there was no sign.

Then you heard rustling from your right side. Looking over, you gasped as Loki leapt out from behind a tree and pounced for you. You tried to run, but he grabbed your arm, pulling you to a complete stop.

He wrapped an arm firmly around your middle, holding you back against his firm body. You tried struggling, kicking and screaming as he held you against him so easily. You felt his breath dance across your neck as he chuckled.

‘Caught you, little pet.’ He growled, then you felt a sharp blade press lightly at your throat. You whimpered and shakily raised your chin up a bit, making sure to not press into the dagger.

‘P… please…’ You sobbed, fear flowing through you.

Loki inhaled your scent, enjoying the smell of your fear wafting off of you. But as he moved his hand holding the dagger, you closed your eyes tightly, expecting the worst. He was the God of lies after all. You wouldn’t be surprised if he changed his mind and killed you instead.

But instead, he sliced downwards and cut at your top. You cried out and tried to struggle, but the blade moved back up to your neck in warning. ‘Careful, pet. Don’t want me to cut you, now do you?’ He smirked and pressed his lips to your shoulder.

You were then surprised as he let you go, but it was only momentarily. As when you tried to run forwards, he grabbed your upper arm and hauled you down to the ground on your back. Your head hit the dirt, you tried instantly to push up to get away but he pushed you down at your chest.

With his free hand, he sliced away at your clothes until they simply fell away from your body. You continued squirming, trying to get free. Your legs and arms flailed about weakly beneath him, just making him laugh at your feeble attempts.

He forced your legs apart and you cried out when he smacked your cunt, unwillingly making your legs widen even more. He moved between them, so you weren’t able to close them around him.

You knew this was it. You were done. You had no idea how long was left, time had completely escaped you once the game had started.

But suddenly you remembered his terms. He not only had to cum inside you, but he had to make you cum as well. You knew that wouldn’t happen, there was no way you would get aroused by this assault. So all you had to do was endure his rape, then you would be set free.

Expecting Loki just to shove himself into you, you held your breath and waited for the painful intrusion as you closed your eyes. But your eyes flew open and a scared squeak came out when he started stroking you gently down there, he was looming over you from between your legs, grinning wickedly.

‘You are delightful, pet. I am going to enjoy this beautiful quim of yours. And I can’t wait to hear the noises you make as you cum.’ He purred and surprised you by wrapping his hands firmly around your thighs as he lifted your lower body up off the ground and he bent down at the same time, pulling your cunt up to his face.

You started thrashing around now, realising he was going to be trying everything to make you cum. As soon as you felt his warm breath on you, you knew this wasn’t going to be easy.

His tongue delved between your folds, lapping at you hungrily. He growled and moaned, sending the vibrations across you. His tongue swiped up across the hood of your clit, sending a small jolt through your body.

You started trying to scramble backwards, away from him. But he moved with you, his mouth clamped firmly on your cunt. His tongue like the devil as it swirled around your clit, slowly getting it to peek out from hiding, becoming more and more sensitive under his broad licks.

Grabbing a handful of dirt and twigs, you tossed it at him in hopes it would stop him. But in return he moved his head to the side and bit your inner thigh, hard. You cried out in pain as you felt his teeth sink into you, making you bleed.

‘Behave. You’re going to be mine whether you like it or not.’ He snarled before moving back to your delightful cunt.

After feasting on you like a wild animal, until you were dripping wet and soaking his chin, he stopped before making you cum. You wondered if he thought he’d done it already, with how embarrassingly wet you’d become…

Smacking his lips, he winked at you as he put your bum back down on the ground. When he let go of your thighs, you took this opportunity to try and get away once more.

You scrambled backwards and turned around onto your hands and knees, about to stand up, but he was quick to mount you from behind. Knocking your upper body back down and your face into the dirt.

As you tried to get away, he sank his teeth into the back of your neck. Making you howl in pain as he bit you just as hard as on your thigh, maybe harder. It kept you pliant and submissive beneath him as he rubbed his cock up and down your slit.

With a growl, his cock breached your wet cunt and he slid into you with alarming ease for the size of him.

‘Nooooo! Please, no!’ You cried out, tears falling down your face into the ground beneath you.

Loki grabbed hold of your hips and pulled you up more as he rammed fully into you, forcing your body to yield to his daunting presence within you. He could feel your soft walls spasming around him, getting accustomed to his length and girth.

‘Ohh, pet. You feel even better than I imagined.’ He said as he let go of your neck, allowing you the opportunity to try wriggling away. But with his cock lodged deeply inside you, his fingers gripping your hips, you had no chance at all of getting away even an inch.

He pulled back, then with a deliberate and firm thrust, he was fully sheathed inside you again. You cried out, this time in some pleasure. His cock felt so good inside you, but you did your best to ignore the pleasure that was rapidly rising. You couldn’t cum, then he would win. All you had to do was wait until he’d had his release. And hope you could hold off until the alarm.

But Loki didn’t seem like he was in a rush. He took his sweet time fucking you deep and slowly into the dirt. His heavy weight on top of you was too much, you could barely breathe as he pushed you flat down to the ground and drove himself into you.

You could tell when he was getting closer. His thrusts became more rapid, shallower. Like he wanted to remain as deep as he possibly could. He was almost there. Part of you hoped that when he was to cum inside you, that would be it over. He would be too tired to think about making you cum, forgetting about the terms.

‘Ohhh yes!’ Loki roared from behind you as he thrust rather hard and stilled. You could feel his cock throbbing hotly inside you, his sperm rushing into you and coating your insides.

You very nearly came from the warm feeling as he filled you, but you managed to hold off.

But not for long…

Loki remained inside you, panting against your shoulder.

As you tried moving a little, he chuckled lowly and tightened his hold on your hips.

‘Oh no, little pet. You haven’t cum yet.’ You felt dread run through your veins at his words as he raised you up slightly, the movement made you clench around him reluctantly.  

You let out a sob. But it became worse when he slid a devious hand underneath you, down between your thighs. And he started rubbing over your sensitive clit, that was flushed out from the size of his cock.

As he started stroking over it, he began lazily thrusting into you again. Your sobs soon turned into quiet whimpers, which then became moans as he brought you right to the edge.

‘You will cum for me, pet. You are going to become my little toy. I will keep you sheathed on my cock, warming me for hours upon hours whenever I want. Cumming all over me continuously. You will be at my beck and call, every second of every day. And I will force orgasms upon you whenever I want.’

‘I will ruin you.’ He nipped at your earlobe and then it was all over for you.

You came so hard on his cock, squeezing the life out of him as you soaked his cock.

The sound of the alarm signalling the end of the game blared out into the forest, making you jump slightly. You felt your heart sink, you had been so close…

Loki chuckled darkly and grabbed a fistful of your hair, yanking your head right back so he could look at you from above as he thrust into the sticky wetness of your cunt again, adding even more as he moaned, eyes fluttering slightly.

‘Ohhh yes, pet. You are going to be the perfect little cock slut for me.’ He grinned wolfishly.

[thetypedwriter]

All the Young Dudes Fanfiction Review

All the Young Dudes Fanfiction Review by MsKingBean89

So. 

This is a first. 

If you’ve been following this blog for some time, then you know I generally read young adult books and write far too lengthy reviews on them with the occasional outlier of adult fiction, mystery, sci-fi, etc. 

At any given time, I usually have both a physical book that I’ve bought from somewhere that I’m working on (right now it’s Firekeeper's Daughter by Angeline Boulley) as well as a fanfiction that I reserve until before I go to bed (my treat for a day well lived). 

Fanfiction is something that I’ve mentioned copious amounts of times on this blog in varying degrees, but this is the first time I’ll be writing an actual review for one of them on this platform. 

The reason for this is myriad. 

One, this fanfiction called All the Young Dudes is a far-cry from your normal standardized fanfiction of 5-50,000 words-something I can easily consume in a few minutes to a few hours. 

Nope, this behemoth ends on a staggering 526,969 words and 188 chapters, not including bonus chapters and extra in-universe canonical content the author has also written and published. Roughly speaking, if this was actually published onto paper it would be well over 2,000 pages. 

2,000 pages. 

Yeah. And I enjoyed every single moment of it. 

Two, while I read a lot of fanfiction I generally don’t put any of it on this blog because while I’ve dedicated it to published novels, I also usually have very simple feelings about fanfiction. My thoughts run the gambit of: It was good, it was fluffy, it was a train-wreck, so on and so forth. 

Normally my reviews are so long and wordy because I have too many thoughts about the published books that I read and I need an outlet to let them loose. 

Whether because of its longevity or because of its content, All the Young Dudes is a story I find myself having a profusion of thoughts for. Hence, the birth of this review. 

If fanfiction isn’t your thing, feel free to skip this particular review of mine (although fanfiction is a gift to this world and you should really rethink your stance on it if you don’t like it, just saying). 

Third, All the Young Dudes is well written and rivals any actual published content. 

Fourth, because of how extensive this fanfiction is, it took me over a month to read it-time I generally would have been reading something else. Instead of leaving you all hanging for a few more weeks until I finish Firekeeper's Daughter (don’t hold your breath-the book is sort of a slog for me personally right now), I decided to just take the jump and write my first-ever typedwriter review for a fanfiction. 

Fanfiction has been a part of my life for the better part of almost two decades now. It was truly something I found by accident and in retrospect, it’s insane to me that it’s still something that brings me continuous joy and happiness. 

I discovered fanfiction when I was 11-years-old and deeply obsessed with the Harry Potter fandom. 

Now, as an overall disclaimer I completely disagree with J.K. Rowling’s stances of gender and biology and differ wholeheartedly with her views of trans and non-binary individuals. With that said, I still love Harry Potter as a story and while I no longer buy anything that profits J.K. Rowling directly, I still love the fandom and the people in it, including fanworks like All the Young Dudes. 

When I was 11, the seventh Harry Potter book had yet to come out and like many other people in this time period of agony while waiting for 2007 to roll around so that I could find out what happened, I discovered fanfiction as a way to fill in that ache I was so keenly feeling. 

I found myself suddenly immersed in this world of online fiction-both good and bad-but completely entrancing all the same. 

I never left. 

That is to say, I did eventually move onto other fandoms with their own fanfiction cultures, but Harry Potter was still my first in terms of fanfiction and introducing me to the concept as a whole. 

Specifically and maybe oddly, I never found myself curious for actual fanfiction about Harry or Hermione or Ron. In my mind, I already knew what had happened to them and reading about them in fanfiction was redundant. 

In addition, the first fanfiction I just happened to come across was a Lily/James marauder era fanfiction on mugglenet.com

This idea immediately intrigued me as fans as a whole knew next to nothing about the infamous Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs and while I knew everything I needed to about Harry Potter it was intoxicating to think that I could learn about a time before the series had existed and about characters who were important, but off screen. 

I was hooked and devoured as much as I could for most of middle school about the marauders and Lily and James’ romance in particular (I even wrote and published some of my own that will go unmentioned as they are truly really terrible). 

That being said, I haven’t read a Harry Potter fanfiction in years. I grew up and out of the fandom eventually thanks to Twilight and from there I’ve bounced from fandom to fandom as I’ve aged and consumed different things and fallen in love with different characters and different worlds. 

That isn’t to say I’ve forgotten though. 

I still remember my favorite marauder stories, my favorite Sirius Black/OFC (original female character), and my favorite baby Harry drabbles. They made such a huge impression on me and even though it’s been sixteen years, I still recall those stories with fond nostalgia and jubilation. 

Which is why it’s almost ironic that I would return to this particular time period of the marauders with All the Young Dudes. 

In a fashion that’s almost scarily full circle, I happened to be on Youtube one day and saw a recommendation video about this girl reviewing a fanfiction called All the Young Dudes. Now, youtube book reviews aren’t uncommon, but a thirty minute video for a fanfiction? Not your typical sighting. 

So out of pure curiosity, I searched All the Young Dudes fanfiction on Google and low and behold the overwhelming and top results were all for a marauder-era fanfiction by MsKingBean89. Piqued, I clicked on the link in ao3 and thought why not? 

While I’ve mainly been reading in other fandoms recently (BTS, some anime and manga, All for the Game) I had been in a little bit of a slump for finding a really good, really alluring story for some time and really didn’t think I had anything to lose by reading All the Young Dudes, especially as the more research I did, the more I found how popular it was-a plethora of videos on youtube, tiktok compilations, and dozens of fanart posts. 

Plus, it had been so long since I had read anything from my progenitor fandom and the thought of going back was strangely comforting.

Hence the journey of reading All the Young Dudes began and oh what a journey it was. 

Now, that this review is already five pages in, I should probably tell you what on earth All the Young Dudes is actually about. 

The whole story is a marauder-era fanfiction told from Remus Lupin’s POV from the summer of 1971 when Remus is 11-years-old to the summer of 1995 when he is 35-five-years-old. It is an in-depth portrayal of Remus’ time at Hogwarts from year one to year seven and then going all the way up to the start of the second wizarding world, ending around the time Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix begins. 

While already the scope makes this a massive undertaking, the author also includes all canonical content from the original series involving Remus, the Marauders, and the time period and incorporates it into her fanfiction-making it canon compliant from start to finish. 

While a very large portion of this story is not romantic, there is eventual WolfStar (Remus Lupin/Sirius Black) and if you have read the original Harry Potter series...well. You know things don't end up super dandy for these two characters in particular so you know how the story will end before it begins. 

This fanfiction left me speechless for so many reasons. 

The scope and length is frankly unbelievable. This fanfiction was published on March 2, 2017 and it was completed on November 12, 2018.

….how?

How did she manage that? I frankly have no idea, but I am in complete and utter awe at her ability to write content with such a magnitude and actually complete it. She gets an award just for that honestly. 

Not only that, but the fanfiction is actually superbly well-written. I won’t lie and say it’s the most poignant and beautiful piece of literature I’ve ever consumed, but it was consistent in its pacing, characterization, themes, motifs, and structure, which, for 2,000 pages, is an incredible achievement when you think about it. 

Speaking of characterization, everyone was So. Well. Done. 

Remus was such an interesting POV to read from and while he was compliant in every sense of the word-werewolf, prefect, bookish-MsKingBean89 added so much more to his character and fleshed him out so incredibly that it’s truly tragic that he’s not a real person. 

And to that extent, she does this with all of the characters. You see James’ optimism and leadership, Sirius’ arrogance and loyalty, Peter’s jealousy and chess skills. 

Every character was so well-rounded and real. She did an incredible job of taking the bits and pieces from the canon series and using that to build up her own flesh and blood people with motivations, likes, dislikes, dreams, and desires. 

That being said, she also had 2,000 pages to do it sooooooo it would be bad if the characters weren’t fleshed out by the end honestly. 

In addition, I really appreciated that she didn’t just focus on Remus, Sirius, James and Peter. Lily Evans played a critical role in Remus’ school life and after and so did the other Gryffindor girls like Marlene and Mary. 

Too often, the focus is on the boys and their close friendship and while that was a huge focus, we also get to see Remus develop friendships with the girls in his own right and other friends as well that were often OC’s of the author’s. 

Now. OC’s are generally something I dislike. I’m reading fanfiction to read about particular characters that I’ve sought after, not to read about some imaginary cast. However, just like any of the canon characters, all of the OC characters were well-developed and played crucial roles in Remus’ development-while either at Hogwarts or after-and I found myself not minding them in the least. In a few cases (Grant) I actually really loved them. 

The biggest draw for this fanfiction for me was Remus’ time at Hogwarts. It was so well-written and incredibly descriptive and I found myself thrust back into the world of magic so suddenly and seamlessly that it was like I never left. 

MsKingBean89 includes so many intricate details and builds up the world so beautifully that I’d recommend any Harry Potter fan to consume it, just to get some good Hogwarts material out of it. 

Another thing I greatly appreciate about this fanfiction was the slow burn. I’ve read slow burn before (All for the Game trilogy anybody?), but this truly took the cake. Sirius and Remus don’t properly get together until the end of year six going into year seven. That’s over 100 chapters in. 

100 chapters out of 188. 

Meaning that over half of this beast doesn’t have the main pairing even together. For some people, this could be a drawback. You might think to yourself: It takes how long for them to confess their feelings and stop being prats?

A very, very long time. 

However...it didn’t bug me. I like slow burn to begin with, but being along for the ride as Remus goes from being a child to an adolescent with unrequited feelings to being in a relationship with someone he loves is so rewarding and fulfilling that the 100 previous chapters are completely and utterly worth it. 

MsKingBean89 develops them so well and so carefully that the payoff is so sweet and satisfactory that it's enough to bring the tears right then and there. 

The last huge feat of this fanfiction for me was the author’s dedication to canon not just confined to Hogwarts and the Harry Potter books, but also to the time period. Either she lived through the 70’s and 80’s herself or she had done her due diligence when it comes to research because anything from London anti-gay laws to British slang was commonplace in her fic. 

I found it completely amazing how she was able to tie in real-time historical and cultural moments like famous singers and movies playing at the time alongside convoluted muggle politics warring with the wizarding ones. 

I was so blown away by the accuracy and genuine love behind this fic that it often brought me out of my own mind to simply ponder once again how much work this was and how well she was delivering it. 

Even unpleasant things, like homophobia and bigotry, are dealt with in a very carefully constructed way that is aligned with the time period in which the story takes place. 

Unfortunately, everything beautiful is not without flaws and All the Young Dudes is not the exception, although it’s flaws are nary compared to its achievements. 

The few complaints I have with this fic are honestly quite negligible. 

First, there are a few grammatical and punctuation errors. Very few, but I did notice some. 

Next, and again, this complaint is really just me whining, but...the end of the fic was really fucking sad. The end of this whole story took me so much time to complete simply because I didn’t want to read it. 

I know what happened during the first wizarding war and I also know what ended it (James and Lily Potter dying, Harry being shipped off to the Dursley’s, Sirius imprisoned for a murder he didn’t commit, Peter presumed dead) and in one fell swoop Remus lost everything and everyone he ever loved. 

After spending over 1,500 pages of Remus growing to love these people it is absolutely devastating and heart-breaking to see him lose it all. 

The last handful of chapters are just really, really sad and it makes me wonder why MsKingBean89 decided to write it in the first place. Frankly, I don't know why she didn't write about Remus’ time at Hogwarts and stop after graduation because we all know what happens after that and none of it is good. 

Looking back, I wish I could time travel and tell myself to stop at chapter 150. I truly didn’t need to read about the tragedies that happened after that and the hell that all of the characters go through. 

And while it does end on a….sort of kind of maybe positive (?) note with Sirius and Remus reuniting briefly once the events of Harry Potter and Prisoner of Azkaban take place, it was really tainted and bittersweet for me knowing that in a year Sirius would die and Remus would marry his fucking cousin and have a child. 

Urgh. 

I just can’t. 

That being said, I understand it’s not the author’s fault and I’m not saying it is. She wrote a canon compliant fic to the end and it was my choice to continue reading. That being said, she said she ended it before the events of Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix because Sirius and Remus are happy and back together and she didn’t want to write what was coming next if she continued. 

I truly, truly get that. 

But in the same vein, why even write the events of the first wizarding world to begin with then? I’m confused with that response as it doesn’t make much sense to me. I felt like ending it right then and there was not a happy ending. They’re together, yes, but at this point they are both shells of who they used to be. Both have severe trauma and PTSD and frankly I don’t even know if I agree with them being together just because they’ve put each other through so much. 

It’s just an interesting choice at the end of the day in terms of the author. 

Once again, however, I truly understand that she can do whatever she wants and that she doesn’t owe anyone anything, especially as she’s writing this for free and just because. So please keep in mind that although I’m complaining, I truly understand how fortunate we are to even have this fic in the first place. 

Okay. 

Secondly, my only other huge complaint is that MsKingBean89 made Remus gay. Not bi, not pan. Gay. 

You could argue that Remus just calls himself gay in the fanficiton as he didn’t know about other kinds of sexuality. You could argue that Remus’ sexuality changes and develops as he ages and experiences trials and tribulations. You could argue that it was a sign of times like so much else in this fic. 

I frankly just found it to be a frustrating choice as the fic is canon compliant and even though it ends before the events of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows we know that Remus eventually marries Tonks and has a baby son named Teddy Lupin. 

How does that make sense?

I tried very, very hard to come up with some sort of feasible explanation for how a gay man would have ended up with the love of his life’s female cousin and truly could not think of one that was not fucked up to some degree. 

Again. I know I’m being nit-picky, but it irked me that she made this choice regarding Remus’ sexuality and essentially ended her fic with Remus stuck in a corner regarding how the series actually ends. 

At the end of the day, all of the negatives are truly, truly not important. I’m just whinging to whine and to express my thoughts, but I do once again understand that MsKingBean89 isn’t profiting from this fic and that she can do what she wants as is her prerogative. 

I hope I was able to express that while I understand that, I can still be frustrated with some of the choices she made. 

To wrap this all up, All the Young Dudes is a masterpiece and is a must-read for anyone who loves Harry Potter, the Marauders, or Wolfstar. I was blown away by the sheer magnitude, the love and care she put into her craft, the slow and deliberate development of all the characters, the beautifully constructed love between Sirius and Remus, and the intricate world-both muggle and magic-that surrounded the story like a cocoon. 

I am so happy I found this fic and I truthfully am floundering at what to do with myself next. If you have any more current Marauder era fics that I’ve missed out in the past eleven years, please don’t hesitate to let me know. 

Recommendation: Go read All the Young Dudes. For weeks, you will cry, you will laugh, you will despair, and you will smile. This fanfiction will make you wish this was canon and in my mind, it now is. 

Score: 8/10

Links:

1. All the Young Dudes on ao3 

2. The Youtube Video about All the Young Dudes that made me aware of its existence 

[whatudottu]

So I’m sure y’all (ben 10 fans specifically) know about the episode Inspector 13? And how Gwen couldn’t used her mana like she usually does?

Yeah, those are my thoughts today and I’m gonna talk about ‘em.

Let’s get this out of the way first, pure full Anodites will not have the same trouble that Gwen has, regardless of form. Basic reason here same as normal, they’re pure mana and Gwen is a fleshy human with a spark, so inherently there’s already a difference in the flow of mana.

But are other species capable of magic and mana manipulation?

Heck yeah!

Knowing what we’ve seen with Anodites already, sans Gwen of course, they’re the... uh... hmm let’s say playboys of the universe. Much in the same way that humans can’t keep it in their pants, Anodites don’t have pants in the first place and would definitely proliferate with life spanning galaxies. And just like with humans, there is a chance that any hybrid child of an Anodite can have the spark.

But does that mean that Gwen can use mana as each of the aliens she turns into?

Heck no!

At least not on first try.

Now let me explain. Humans have a filter on their flow of mana, one which Anodites don’t possess, but other species have that same filter. Why? Well, it’s their DNA of course, it’s what separates them from the pure energy beings of Anodites, the unfiltered raw flow of mana. This filter is there because while Anodites are filled with mana, a hybrid with a spark produces their own unique life energy that interacts and mingles with the flow of their mana.

But what does that mean for Gwen?

Given that the spark is not... uh... entirely genetic (there’s a need for an Anodite SOMEWHERE in the bloodline for the spark, but it doesn’t come up in DNA), it should exist through each transformation. But the issue here is that, while the spark stays the same, the filter wildly changes.

Gwen, as herself, is athletic and light on her feet, so her mana floats, twists and turns, and when solid, is akin to glass. But as Diamondhead, suddenly there’s more weight and less dexterity. There’s a difference that opens a new set of rules for Gwen that she’s never had to deal with, and just like at the start of her magic career, things don’t work exactly as they should.

I’m done with the whole analysis side of this thought, but the main reason why this is on my mind is because... well... I didn’t like how the show handled the differences in mana manipulation. It’s maybe a sneaky little episode rewrite, and maybe a little more interesting version of the ‘getting-used-to-another-person’s-powers’ trope... which I’m pretty sure is a thing. I don’t know I’ve seen it before a few times so whatever.

ANYWAY! Moving on to what I would’ve like to have happened, let’s go in order of Gwen’s transformations.

As stated (and is obvious), Petrosapiens aren’t very known for their light weight and dexterity, so one’s magic would reflect this. How this will affect their mana would turn the free flowing looseness of floating mana into physics based materialisation. But what makes this different to a Petrosapien’s natural crystalkinesis?

Let’s demonstrate with Diamondhead.

A falling Gwen would realise quick that her attempts at making platforms would fail, seeing them fall alongside her. However, producing these solid objects took nothing away from her physical levels of energy, meaning Diamondhead wasn’t growing fatigued unlike with typical crystalkinesis. Gwen would have the ability to form as much ‘crystals’ as she wants in order to keep her from crashing too heavily into the ground.

This use of mana is more so built upon traps, because they last a lot longer and barely need concentration to work. Used as a replacement for crystalkinesis, a Petrosapien ain’t gonna get very far, because these ‘traps’ work on everyone even if they can disperse the constructs. No, it’s better to stay away from the constructs because they amplify sonic waves (the mana vibrates as if like a tuning fork) and can create shatter explosions if struck the right way. For the latter, if y’all have seen the dude pressure plating a diamond, it’s like that.

Now, let’s talk about the second alien Gwen transforms into, Clockwork!

Chronosapiens are a little more robotic than Humans and Petrosapiens, especially Anodites, so their filter of mana is a lot larger. It is the fact that they are alive in the first place that let’s them use magic at all, but their mana capabilities are extremely limited. It’s like being trapped in a metal suit, where it’s hard to allow the internal spark to manipulate the external environment. But what if one doesn’t use external magic?

Clockwork can work like this.

Gwen may not manage to bypass the filter and create mana constructs, or even a flowing tendril, but she can find ways for her modified magic to work. Clockwork keeps the spark internally, so why not help that along with less offensive and defensive skills, and instead more utility casting. What does this mean? Flight, babes! But instead of the traditional sort of flight, Gwen finds that she can ‘walk on frozen time’ and ‘slip through the seems’.

Okay maybe that sounds a little too much like the Esoterica power set, but it’s not like seeing a fourth dimension and accessing the inaccessible. It may appear to be the same, but just like how people may perceive Clockwork to have super speed, even though he’s just slowed time for everyone else, it’s just a matter of perspective. But in general, learning to use mana outwardly would need more time than Gwen had.

Moving on to alien number 3, we have Humungousaur.

Now, in terms of filters, Vaxasaurians have a little more access to mana manipulation than Petrosapiens and especially Chronosapiens, but they have a whole lot of life energy due to their size, which has an effect on their spark. While the dexterity of their magic can be comparable to Human’s manipulation, the strength of it is quite limited, so while a Vaxasaurian may be dependent on their physical bodies for attack and defence, magic is just a bonus action.

So how would Humungousaur use magic instead?

Well, while Gwen would engage in a good old round of fisticuffs, she can use mana like a lasso/whip to trip opponents and yank them this way and that. And by ‘this way’ I mean directly into her punch, like you’re the ball of a paddle-board. It’s definitely more of an assistance type of magic, and it’s definitely not strong enough to support the weight of Humungousaur, but Gwen can control the battlefield by controlling the stability of the enemy.

Think hunting and gathering, this is where a Vaxasaurian’s magic thrives, where it helps with restraining and retrieval rather than attack and defence, they’ve already got THAT down. Prime Vaxasaurians, with their size increase, would lose the use of their mana when at max height, but Reboot Vaxasaurians can emphasise their tail shockwave with magic to make it even more deadly.

Up next is Upchuck, and boy is this an easy one.

Gourmands already have a natural relationship between themselves and energy, so someone with the spark can super enhance their energy bile. To the point where it’s almost unnecessary to actually eat anything to get at least some sort of fire power. Of course, with a Gourmand’s small squishy body, they are perfectly capable of throwing up defences (I swear that pun was an accident), but who needs defences when you’ve got a whole arsenal of explosive mana.

But there’s a little issue with Upchuck that Gwen has to get over.

The problem? Gwen’s a little self-conscious about a Gourmand’s abilities. Mana is the flow of life energy, so if the flow is restrained by embarrassment, it doesn’t act at its full potential. Upchuck can certainly try to use magic as a crutch to avoid needing to eat and spit her way in, but the free flowing stream cutting off is inhibiting the strength of her defence too.

SO! When Gwen finally caves and eats some metal, there’s enough power to blast a hole into the techadon factory big enough to get inside with time to spare. Aside from enhancing the blasting power of a Gourmand’s natural energy, the use of mana manipulation can change the ‘weaponry’ of the attack, which can turn into a gassy smokescreen (burp) and a sticky ball (loogie) to name a few. A Gourmand’s best strength is confidence, so Gwen would need to adapt her mana the same way.

And last but not least, we have Rath stepping up to the plate.

Now, Appoplexians are... rather straight forward and fight tooth and claw rather than strategically. They have a similar mana to life energy filter ratio to Humans, but that doesn’t mean that they’re just as magic friendly. Mana manipulation typically requires coherent thought other than the urge to beat someone up.

But Rath can use magic, and here’s how Gwen works it.

Cutting to the chase, there’s no range mana attacks, at all. For one thing, Rath would find it cowardly, another being that unlike ripping out a turret and throwing it at something else, there’s not enough brutal violence. And utility magic is not even considered. That needs some planning, and the only plan Rath has going into the fight is to WIN! And Gwen is not immune to the urge for violence.

So what happens instead, Gwen would accentuate a punch, slash or block with the extra kick of mana. Enemy fist approaching at 5 o’clock, t-minus 2 seconds? Mana armour. The techadon warrior is regenerating a little too fast for liking? Mana blade! Inspector 13 is being an annoying little techadon engineer with his constant downplay of their abilities? MANA PUNCH!

And after all that, Gwen gets to be in her own skin again. Some of the abilities she learnt that day don’t translate to her Human form. She can’t form crystal traps, she can’t slip between the seams of time, she can’t modify the properties of her mana. But some of the techniques she learnt can be adapted into her regular fighting. She can manipulate the battle field, she can construct armour on the fly.

But most importantly, she can see the differences of life energy, and how they effect magic use. Seeing a range of different mana manipulation, Gwen has unlocked a more open perspective on magic and can learn so much more, her expectations of Human magic pried open wide.

I think THAT would’ve been neat.

But instead we got same face syndrome not to rag on the episode haha.

[curewrongopinions]

Doki Doki rambling!

Currently watching Doki Doki. I don’t get why so many people hate it THAT much. I understand Mana can be annoying but I don’t think she’s a Mary Sue (why does everyone use that term so loosely?). She’s got flaws, the problem isn’t that she’s perfect but that the narrative doesn’t put enough focus on them. It could have been great.

It’s almost a running gag that Mana acts too quickly (like when she wanted to visit Makoto and started running, just for Rikka and Alice to tell her she doesn’t know where she is), she pushes herself too much (the fever episode), she doesn’t instantly understand serious topics (befriending Regina while not understanding Makoto’s pov, and later on she even recognises she didn’t understand how Trump Kingdom’s fall felt until it happened to the Earth too) etc. The problem is that the show doesn’t do enough with her, she’s kind of a tool for everyone to develop with. We could’ve had the fever episode concluding in Mana learning to not push herself, understanding that she cannot do everything, etc. We could have more on her friendship with Rikka, and have them learn from each other (Mana could really use Rikka’s cold mind and Rikka, well, she already takes from Mana pushing her into new things). Overall, having a character that works too much and doesn’t care for her safety enough can show children that there are limits, that resting is fine and needed, and that taking care of oneself is not selfishness. Mana could’ve shown us that. But Doki Doki wasn’t serious enough to consider Mana’s overworking more than a joke vjhgjjkhkj.

I think the other problem is that the show does focus on Mana too much, at least on the first half. Mana-Rikka, Mana-Makoto and Mana-Regina are explored a lot. Mana-Alice and Mana-Aguri are not a priority but we see a lot as well. The problem is with any other relationship, at least until ep36 which is the one I’m in. Maybe later I can see more of Rikka and the rest, or Alice and the rest, etc. Aguri and the rest is explored tho, which I found incredibly nice because I actually think she gives us a fresh perspective.

The other characters should have more things with the others. For example, Alice’s flashback episode constantly mentions how Mana inspired her (which fits Mana because she’s got charisma), but it barely mentions Rikka. We could’ve had a Rikka-Alice moment where Alice talks about how fucking clever Rikka is and how she wanted to have a quick mind like hers considering she was the one who found a way out of the hause. Maybe Rikka goes to Alice’s home because of her advanced technology and she likes learning or maybe she just likes chilling with her because Mana’s got ENERGY. 

We could’ve had more with the Rikka-Makoto conflict. Maybe instead of it disappearing we could see them talk about it without Mana being there? Just imagine them trying to befriend each other even if they have this “why are you with Mana” feeling. And eventually they bond over different things. Maybe they have something in common, like reading, or maybe they spar together. They’re the serious ones from the team so maybe Rikka becomes invested with helping her make plans to recover Trump Kingdom? And then, after discovering their true personalities, they have a final heart-to-heart admiring each other and how they overcame that shitty feeling of jealousy.

I think it would’ve been interesting to see some conflict between Alice and Makoto as well. Makoto is one of the agressive Cures of the team, her attacks are purely offensive-based and her name is Cure SWORD. Whereas Alice is seemingly deffensive-based in everything she does; hiding her true potential because she’s the most versatile of the team; her attacks are the most flexible and creative, and she can go from defense to ofense in less than a second... BUT Sword doesn’t know this at first. Maybe she thinks Alice doesn’t take things seriously enough and Alice ends up showing her how protection is very important and that it doesn’t mean she cannot defend herself in other ways, proving herself as a skilled fighter. And maybe we could see Makoto develop some defensive ability too? Anyways Makoto is a troubled teen she should’ve taken more time to warm up (but we have to understand Makoto WASN’T MEANT to be there in the first place, she was meant to enter the team midway, but Toei insisted on using her in New Stage 2 so they had to rush her plot).

I won’t speak of Regina because she’s currently disappeared and I know she reappears later and gets a badass song from Makoto. I just think she should be here in the first place ajskwjkjwk she’s one of my favourite characters of all time in PreCure!

[victorluvsalice]

Sims Challenge Wednesday: Vampire The Masquerade Bloodlines!

Hi all! We’re putting the usual Newcrest Adventures updates on pause for a week because I recently finished a little project I’ve been working on for a little while now -- doing Sims 4 challenges for two of my other favorite video games, Vampire: the Masquerade -- Bloodlines and Fallout 4! Yes, I’ve mentioned wanting to do this before on the blog, and now, finally, I’ve completed the initial drafts of each challenge! And I figured, who better to share them with than all of you. :) So let’s start off with the VTMB challenge!

(Oh, and note -- yeah, I just saw in the tags that someone’s actually come up with a VTMB-inspired Legacy challenge for The Sims 4. Mine’s a completely different one-generation challenge, but I am intrigued to see what’s going on with the Legacy version!)

VTMB SIMS 4 CHALLENGE

Premise: It all started out so well – a night out at the clubs, a flirtatious wink across the dance floor, a trip back to a seedy hotel room to get it on with your new partner. . .and then suddenly, in a mix of pain and pleasure, you find yourself lacking a heartbeat. And then some other people storm in, and you find out that:

A) you have been changed into a vampire

B) the person who changed you did not have permission to change you into a vampire

Your “sire” is put to death for disobeying the laws of the vampire underworld – but the rulers of your local city decide that you can be allowed to live. So long as you run a bunch of errands for them, of course. . .your only way out? Make some allies, make some money, gain a ton of power, and keep your head down until you can kick every one of these people’s asses personally. That is, if you (un)live that long. . .

This is a challenge loosely inspired by the experience of being the Fledgling PC in the video game Vampire: the Masquerade – Bloodlines. The goals are to become a Grand Master Vampire, graduate from a shitty apartment to a decent one, and defeat a bunch of other vampires in duels to prove yourself.

Packs required: Vampires, Get Together, City Living, Eco Lifestyle, Island Living, Cats & Dogs/Cottage Living

Your Sim: Create your “Fledgling” in CAS. Your Fledgling should be a Young Adult. You may start them out as a vampire to start the challenge immediately, or start them as a human, make a sire for them, then have them changed in-game to gain a few days to build skills and enjoy sunlight. (Remember that the sire must be killed after your Fledgling starts their change! I recommend locking them outside in the sunlight.) The challenge starts the moment the Sim transforms fully into a vampire.

Each Fledgling vampire in Bloodlines belongs to one of seven clans – Brujah (clan of rebels and brawlers), Gangrel (clan of loners and animal lovers), Malkavian (clan of mentally ill people and oracles), Nosferatu (clan of warped looks and computer specialists), Toreador (clan of lovers and artistes), Tremere (clan of magicians and scholars), or Venture (clan of leaders and those of rarefied tastes). Pick one clan for your Fledgling and assign them an appropriate personality trait –

Brujah – “Hot-Headed”

Gangrel – Either “Cat Lover,” “Dog Lover,” or “Animal Enthusiast”

Malkavian – “Erratic” (you may sub in a custom trait for mental illness if you have one)

Nosferatu – “Geek”

Toreador – Either “Art Lover” or “Music Lover”

Tremere – “Bookworm”

Ventrue – “Snob”

Optional: Also assign your Fledgling the “Kleptomaniac” trait as, in the original Bloodlines game, you do end up stealing a lot of stuff to sell to vendors for quick cash.

Optional: If you’re strictly following how vampires work in Bloodlines, leave your vampire’s Dark Form identical to their normal form except for their fangs (except if you’re playing a Nosferatu – then instead customize the Dark Form to look like their post-transformation Orlockian-self (think Straud’s Dark Form) and have the “regular” form be the disguise they wear around humans to fit in). However, if you really want to do a custom Dark Form, I’m not going to be the one to stop you.

Their World: Set up the rest of the save file according to the below guidelines:

Your fledgling must live in a terrible apartment in either San MyShuno or Evergreen Harbor. This apartment must have a low-quality bed, a low-quality kitchen, a small low-quality bathroom, a TV, and a desk with the cheapest laptop. It must also have at least the “Filthy” lot challenge. Upon moving there, set their starting money to $100 (this is the amount they got for expenses).

Make or download at least three or four other vampires (depending on if you want to use the premade Vladislaus Straud or not) and make sure that they live in nice apartments/houses and are at least Master rank (cheats are totally allowed for this). These vampires must all be part of the same club (your choice for the name), with one chosen as the leader – this is the club that “rules” over all the local vampires and is making sure your Fledgling doesn’t step out of line. Set them up to meet regularly either at one of their homes or at an appropriately-kicking nightclub. Club activities are at your discretion, though remember – if they’re in public, they shouldn’t break the Masquerade by showing off powers or drinking plasma!

Make one “Independent” vampire and set them up however you wish, though they must be at least Master rank as well. They may be important to your Fledgling later!

Make sure you have at least four nightclubs (obviously they don’t have to all be in the same world) for your Fledgling to visit on the regular.

Goals:

Your Fledgling is looking to complete the following:

Become a Grand Master vampire, with all the power and perks that entails

Complete the Master Vampire aspiration (they may work on other aspirations as well)

Earn at least $5,000 simoleons

Move into better digs (either a better apartment or their own house)

Defeat all the members of the ruling club of vampires in Vampiric Duels

Rules:

Your Fledgling is not allowed to get a normal job, as per the rules of the council. Your Fledgling is only allowed to earn money by selling items they have made or found (or swiped, if they have the right trait) to other Sims, or by doing Odd Jobs. Any Odd Jobs that your fledgling finds that come from the ruling council (that is, if you see their picture by the job description) must be prioritized.

Your Fledgling may drink from plasma packs both purchased and homemade, but cannot use plasma fruit while the challenge is ongoing. (This means no doing the Good Vampire aspiration until you’ve completed your goals!)

Your Fledgling may drink from Sims, but must not break the Masquerade in doing so. They must either isolate the Sim they choose to drink from and compel them for a drink; or they must isolate the Sim and flirt with them at least five times before asking for a drink (to make it seem like they’re asking to make out or woohoo instead of drink their plasma). Either way, they must not be seen feeding by other Sims. The Fledgling is allowed five slip-ups – after that, the challenge is failed and they are put to death.

Your Fledgling must get to know the ruling vampires – a friendly relationship, however, is very much not necessary. They are going to be battling them sooner or later for the right to live life on their own terms!

Your Fledgling must follow the rules of their clan when purchasing powers: All vampires may purchase the Garlic Immunity, Vampire Creation, and Child of the Moon powers. Brujah vampires may purchase the Detect Personality, Vampiric Strength, Vampiric Slumber, Supernatural Speed, and Influence Emotion powers. Gangrel vampires may purchase the Bat Form, Vampiric Strength, Vampiric Slumber, Dampened Emotions, and Beyond The Herd powers. Malkavian vampires may purchase the Cast Hallucination, Command, Irresistible Slumber, Deprive Needs, and Influence Emotion powers. Nosferatu vampires may purchase the Eternally Welcome, Vampiric Strength, Irresistible Slumber, Odorless, and Mist Form powers. Toreador vampires may purchase the Eternally Welcome, Vampiric Charm, Mesmerize, Supernatural Speed, and Influence Emotion powers. Tremere vampires may purchase the Occult Student, Command, Manipulate Life Spirit, Deprive Needs, and Immortal Pleasures powers. Ventrue vampires may purchase the Detect Personality, Command, Mesmerize, Dampened Emotions, and Beyond The Herd powers. No vampires may purchase the Sun Resistance or Tamed Thirst powers.

Your Fledgling must also follow the rules of their clan when it comes to weaknesses: All vampires must purchase the Withered Stomach weakness – human food is indigestible to them. Brujah vampires like to rebel and fight – they should get into a fight with another Sim at least once every three days. They may fight the ruling vampires, but it doesn’t count as “defeating” them until they do it in an official vampire duel. They are also encouraged to purchase the Sloppy Drinker or Insatiable Thirst weaknesses. Gangrel vampires prefer open spaces and animals to being around people – they should have at least one pet (probably a cat or dog, although if you think you can fit a chicken coop or animal shed into their final home. . .) and prioritize socializing with that pet over socializing with other Sims. They are also encouraged to purchase the Uncontrollable Hissing or Undead Aura weaknesses. Malkavian vampires must deal with their madness – they should indulge their whims as much as possible (no matter how little sense they make – hell, the less sense the better), and you’re encouraged to let them do their own thing as much as possible as well (full autonomy on, people!). They are also encouraged to purchase the Uncontrollable Hissing or Fitful Sleep weaknesses. Nosferatu vampires are all warped by their curse into visions of pure ugliness – they should stay in their Dark Form as much as possible and only “put on their human disguise” to go to a club – and even then, they can only “keep up the illusion” for four hours. Being seen on a community lot by a large group of mortals in your Dark Form is a Masquerade violation, so keep track of the time! They are also encouraged to purchase the Dayphobia or Undead Aura weaknesses. Toreador vampires are mesmerized easily by what they personally consider beautiful, and are also a little more sensitive to the fact that they’ve become undead monsters – they should spend as much money as they can on beautiful artwork for their homes every three days, and spend most of their time admiring lovely objects and/or Sims when they’re out and about. They are also encouraged to purchase the Guilty Drinker or Eternal Sadness weaknesses. Tremere vampires are insular and ill-trusted by other vampires, and are so focused on their scholarly pursuits they lack physical fitness – they should not bring any of their relationships with other vampires up above “Acquaintance” (barring the Independent, see below), and should not improve the Fitness skill (or any other physical sport-related skill) above 5. They are also encouraged to purchase the Sloppy Drinker or Dayphobia weaknesses. Ventrue vampires may only drink from certain kinds of people – they should pick a distinguishing feature (hair color, eye color, personality trait, etc) and then only drink from Sims with that trait. They may drink regular plasma packs, but cannot drink ones made from fish or frogs. They are also encouraged to purchase the Guilty Drinker or Insatiable Thirst weaknesses. Optional: Your Fledgling can take the Thin-Skinned weakness no matter their clan, but I actually wouldn’t recommend it – while it fits with the World of Darkness lore, your Fledgling is going to have to be active during the day for their Odd Jobs most likely. Basically, take that one at your own risk!

Your Fledgling may befriend your Independent vampire – in fact, this is encouraged, as the Independent vampire can teach them a new power! Upon becoming friends with the Independent vampire, your Fledgling may learn one “out-of-clan” power that does not conflict with any of their weaknesses.

Your Fledgling must visit a nightclub once every three days to socialize, dance, and generally pretend to be human. If they can find a way to make money at the club or discreetly feed, even better.

Your Fledgling must “officially” defeat all members of the ruling vampire club in Vampiric Duels in order to break their hold on their unlives. Once this is accomplished, they may get a Freelancer job or sell things direct from inventory instead of to other Sims to pay the bills, as they are no longer under the club’s thumb.

Optional Hard Mode – Four Factions: There’s not one club, there’s four – and none of them like each other! Make three extra clubs, each with at least four vampire members, to represent the four main factions of the original game – the Camarilla (the “official” vampire government, kind of stodgy), the Anarchs (rebellious and looking for more freedoms), the Sabbat (want to revel in their monstrous nature), and the Kuei-Jin (Asian “vampires” who are trying to take over the area; feel free to make them a different kind of occult altogether!). Your Fledgling may choose to join any one of these clubs, or none of them. If they join a club, they have to defeat the leaders plus one member of each of the other clubs in Vampiric Duels to earn their freedom; if they go Independent, they just have to take down all four leaders.

Optional Hard Mode – Limited Map: Your Fledgling can only travel between the worlds of Evergreen Harbor (Santa Monica), San MyShuno (Downtown L.A.), Del Sol Valley (Hollywood), and Mt. Komorebi (Chinatown – it’s the closest we’ve got, just stick to the more city-like neighborhood). Their initial bad apartment must be in Evergreen Harbor, and they must upgrade to one of the best apartments in San MyShuno.

Optional Hard Mode – The Sequel: Your Fledgling is actually the protagonist of the ever-in-production Bloodlines 2 – aka, they’re a Thin-Blood, and their Embrace was REALLY illegal. Adjust the rules as follows:

Thin-Bloods often don’t show signs of any clan, but they are generally hunted and killed just for existing. If you have StrangerVille, I would recommend the “Paranoid” personality trait, but otherwise, customize them as you see fit.

After buying their shitty apartment, you must set their starting funds to zero – they did not receive anything for expenses, because. . .

They’re not under the thumb of the ruling vampires, they’re on the run from them. To be caught is to be killed, so your Fledgling must avoid their notice. Do not attempt to interact with them before you’re powerful enough to take them on, and avoid any Odd Jobs that come from them. (They may still talk to the Independent vampire, who doesn’t care about the politics.)

Their lack of clan means they may choose from almost any of the available powers (aka, anything but Sun Resistance and Tamed Thirst), but must have double the points needed to buy them before they can purchase them (due to their weak vampire blood). They also cannot sire new vampires, so they cannot take Vampire Creation. Befriending the Independent vampire allows them to purchase one power for normal cost.

[owlespresso]

Tremble, Duck & Weave . V

At last. Also on my ao3, which can be found here. If you’re interested in supporting my work or ordering your own, my commission terms can be found here and my ko-fi is here. Before we begin, please make sure all cellular devices are off. Thank you, and enjoy the show.

If Aymeric were to afford his late father one compliment, it would be his impeccable organizational skills. The perfection of each neat, abet packed drawer and cabinet makes it much easier to toss out items and documents he has no use for. He disposes of letters and paperwork and gauche items that only serve to take up space, skimming through texts and wrinkling his nose at every lie he sees. If nothing else, the archbishop kept his story straight, consistently assuring local leaders of his virtue and desires for a simple peace.

Never does he betray his wretched greed, nor does he betray earthly desires, nor does he disclose the truth of his earthly relationships.

“Never would I forsake my sacred oath for the sake of such petty indulgences,” one letter insists. Aymeric, without even processing it, reads it in his fathers voice and hears every lofty intonation, feels the faux passion oozing from every word. “The Scion of the de Borel family is not my flesh and blood.”

Aymeric’s lips curl into a deep frown, cold fingers tensed on the parchment. Another fruitless attempt to deny him of his true heritage, another desperate attempt for the archbishop to preserve his saintly image. Aymeric doesn’t know what’s more pitiful, the ceaselessness of his father’s denial or the fact that he had to interact with this man every day.

A loveless man, Aymeric thinks, crinkling the paper. There’s no reason to linger on a man long dead, not when he’s already resolved to be different, to be better.

His brows pinch into a firm scowl, lips pursed in a deep frown. His tumultuous thoughts near split his head, every letter and possession an unfortunate reminder—

A knock breaks the stifling quiet and forces his spine rigid. As with every spontaneous visit he receives, he schools his demeanor into something friendly and relaxed, something unemotional and civil.

“Come in,” he calls mere moments later.

The tall, dark doors open. Zephirin’s form, adorned in rich blues and gleaming white, stands out stark against the darkened shadows of the hall. He cuts across the tiled floor, greaves clanking with each long step.

“Pardon the interruption, my lord,” Zephirin regards him with trademark impassiveness. “I have information of the utmost importance to share with you.”

The prompts Aymeric to raise a brow. Long has he worked aside the men of the Heavensward, but never has he grown confident in his abilities to read Zephirin. However, he has always been sure that his father kept an array of secrets, any of which could pose a threat to himself or Ishgard. Due to the recency of his ascension, he made the bold choice to not yet question any of the ward. He would attract more flies with honey than with vinegar. Giving them time to adjust, know and trust him would bear richer fruits than pressuring them to spill his father’s precious secrets. Perhaps that patience is finally paying off.

“You may speak,” Aymeric nods, fingers pressing the papers on the desk flat to the polished wood.

“My lord, I assume you are privy to the existence of the Ascians?” Zephirin’s inquiry nearly makes his brows raise, yet he keeps firm hold of his expression, a face of practiced, steady neutrality.

“I am.” Immortal creatures who were a source of strife to every nation and settlement, known for inflaming local beast tribes into summoning deadly primals. “Why, pray tell?” He wouldn’t put it past his father to break bread with some of the world’s most notorious troublemakers, and he knows better than to hope otherwise.

The migraine blossoming behind his forehead thuds into the foreground. The very last thing Ishgard needs is pressure from another faction. Not whilst they’re in the middle of a transitional period. He knows that change must be introduced slowly for the people to accept it. He already has the Dravanians clawing at the wall every chance they get, and the alliance still knocks on the city’s gates semi-regularly. Aymeric is not an easily agitated man, yet there is only so much he can take before his hinges rust and his temper runs out.

“Before the Archbishop’s untimely death, they approached him offering an alliance,” Zephirin is watching him carefully, closely, measured in his words and demeanor. The timbre of his voice is neutral and passive. “He accepted with the intent of ascertaining their true goal and betraying them when his plans reached fruition. It is my full belief that he never intended to truly ally with them.”

Of course, Aymeric says to himself, Thordan would keep such a crucial secret from him. He wonders if the wretch he barely called a father is laughing at him from the hells below, for now he will surely be expected to continue this trite charade with the Ascians. It is likely that they will approach him openly, expect him to break bread with them despite their transgressions against the star as a whole.

He fancies himself a man with a long fuse, but the sudden revelation makes his fingers curl. He leans forward with the weight of sudden news, flattening his hands against the desk.

“It is a pity he did not disclose the details of something so completely crucial to the future of our nation,” Aymeric takes in a deep breath and sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose, “The Ascians are not to be easily trifled with. Regardless of his ability to to predict and handle them, I should have been informed much, much earlier.”

“My sincerest apologies, my lord,” Zephirin begins, the barest hint of apology seeping into his otherwise blank expression. “The Knights of the Round—”

“No. I am not in the mood to entertain trite excuses,” Aymeric replies, tone clipped as he restrains himself. There’s much he wants to say, but Zephirin needs not to be the target of his misplaced aggression. “Go. There is much that still has to be done before the day’s end. I will see to the Ascians this evening. Go about your normal duties until you are needed.” A newfound tension sweeps over his entire body and mind as he returns to the long road ahead. Perhaps some of his father’s files will shed some light on the situation.

- - -

The morning descends upon you with firm vengeance. Though your wounds have for the most part aided by Ishgard’s finest astrologian, the aches and phantom pains still wrack you. The plush blankets that curl around your body make up a warm nest you never hope to leave. The mattress is soft and gentle on your back. Still, it is a comfort most difficult to enjoy whilst there is so much work to be done.

Thus, you tumble out of your nest and barely catch yourself on your feet. Your morning routine is scarcely different from the one you had before your ejection from Ul’dah, yet the pain slows you. The cold claws settled within your muscles and bones make it difficult to move with your former swiftness. Climbing out of the shower is pure agony. Even though you’re inside, Ishgard’s vicious climate thwarts you at every turn. Only when you’re clothed are you at last at ease.

The Ishgardian garb is made of lush cottons that loosely swaddle you, easy on the body and meant to avoid aggravating your skin. Your hands duck into your sleeves, absentmindedly playing with the fabric as you descend the stairs.

Artoirel awaits you at the bottom, leaning casually against the banister. He sweeps out from his resting position with a smile at the sight of you, expression warm and welcoming.

“Good morning,” he says. His posture is casual, but his gaze is searching as it rolls you up and down. Curious, explorative. “How are you?”

“Good morning.” You withdraw into yourself ever so slightly, doing your best not to wilt underneath his gaze. “I’m well.”

“Haurchefant is tending to his duties today, but I do hope I can measure up to him in the realm of being pleasant company. Would you grace me with your presence for today’s breakfast?”

And to that, you have no objections. Artoirel cuts an intimidating figure, physically, but his gentlemanly attitude softens his sharp features. He’s something you’d expect from a wealthy prospective suitor in a romance novel.

Breakfast is a wide array of Ishgard’s finest dishes—foods hearty and rich in nature. It’s a struggle to not scarf down your portions, but easy conversation with Artoirel helps you space out your bites.

It’s all pleasantries at first. He attempts to dive beneath who you are outside of your status as the Warrior of Light, asks about your skills and your hobbies, what you enjoy doing outside of slaying gods and monsters alike. He’s picture perfect. Even the bites he takes of his foot are petite and polite, not a crumb to be seen on the corners of his lips. His expression flexes, the space between his eyebrows wrinkling. He looks like he’s grasping for words, lips pursing as he stares down his remaining food.

“Have any of the nobility made a bad impression on you?” he asks out of the blue, a piece of bacon perched atop his fork.

“No. Not yet, at least,” you look down at your potatoes, eyeing the way the chandelier light bounces off the silverware. It’s a surprising line of conversation to go down, but his concern touches you.

“Full glad am I to hear that. I would hate for any of my more… judgmental peers to sully your experience,” his voice is soft and delicate, a type of gentility that makes your heart squeeze. “However, I must encourage you to be cautious. Ishgardian high society can be… especially brutal to the few foreign guests we receive. Should you encounter any hostility, do not hesitate to inform me. I cannot guarantee any consequences for those in rival houses, but be assured that we at House Fortemps do not share the same sentiments.”

It’s reassuring to hear him so concerned with your reputation and well-being. You’re a new stranger to Ishgard, and there’s no doubt that everyone from the high borne to the lowly of the Brume can tell. Being thrust into such a foreign environment after what you endured has made you feel lost and overly dependent on your connections here. And… perhaps you are. But Artoirel’s devoted sentiments soothe you against your better judgment.

You don’t think much of it now, nor do you think much of it when you’re called down for lunch. Or dinner. It’s only right for the count to call all the residents and guests in his home for meals.

Emmanellain joins you for dinner that night. His eyes glint cleverly, his very presence incessant in its curiosity.

“To think, the champion of the ixal could be felled so succinctly!” he crows after you recount your deadly battle with Garuda. “Ah, I remember Haurchefant arriving home with stars in his eyes, that night. Word of your grand exploit was all he wished to speak of—well, besides your form… and the lovely curves that adorn said form.”

Ah. Long have you been aware of Haurchefant’s growing… intrigue in you, but never has it been so plainly observed by another. How much had he said about you? Your cheeks warmed as you thought over the possibilities, distracted from the raise of Artoirel’s voice as he reprimands his brother.

Haurchefant doesn’t return. Artoirel helpfully informs you that he’s seeing to his very last post at Camp Dragonhead before he returns to fully join the Heavensward. His absence leaves you feeling emptier than usual.

And when you cannot sleep, you occupy yourself with studying Ishgardian history. Much to your frustration, you can’t lift more than four of the tomes at once without your arms and shoulders screaming in protest, so you begrudgingly settle for three. You read throughout the night and find that the founding of the city state alone is enough to cover two-hundred or so pages.

A few hours before dawn, you dim the light and settle back against the pillows, filtering in and out of consciousness until you need to use the bathroom.

You eat breakfast with Artoirel again that morning, and promptly decide you need to take a walk for your own sanity. Manor Fortemps is a splendous place to live, but you can only stand being cooped up for so long before you lose your mind. You make sure to throw on a scarf and some knitted gloves that had been fetched for you, all bundled up and equipped as diligently as possible against the merciless cold.

Though you still don’t have a handle on the city’s layout, you believe asking for directions will serve you just fine. The manor is practically a landmark. Any local worth their salt should be able to point you in its direction. You assure yourself as you make your way towards the grand double doors.

“Oh, are you taking a walk?” Artoirel’s voice pipes up, the lord’s head peeking out from behind a nearby corner.

“Yes. I just wanted to get some fresh air, is all,” you inform him with a small shrug. He steps fully into view, his gaze soft and his smile sweet as he regards you.

“Ah, I was just about to head to the astrologicum. Would you care to accompany me?” He tilts his head ever so slightly as he inquires, leaving you struggling for an answer. On one hand, you likely should visit. If you weren’t mistaken, the man who treated your wounds is an astrologian. On the other… your entire stay in Ishgard has been a procession of well-meaning individuals constantly fretting about and crowding you. Even a moment outside alone would help combat the ceaseless, crushing sense of helplessness it has left you with.

Before you can even answer, Artoirel glances past you, gaze sparking with recognition as he spots one of the housekeepers.

“Ah! Adrienne, the Warrior of Light and I are about to take a visit to the astrologicum. Should Emmanellain return before us, kindly to tell him that the tarte tatin is to be shared. I will not have a repeat incident of last week.” His voice carries a firm edge to it at the end of his sentence, exasperation barely kept from breaching the surface. He shakes his head the housekeeper says an affirmative and scurries off, turning back to you with a sheepish smile.

“My apologies. The last time our chef prepared tarte tatin, he sneaked in and pillaged the entire share before dinner even started,” Artoirel shook his head with a sigh. “At times, I can’t help but think Honoroit is more suited to his position than he is… but that’s nothing for you to worry about.” He dismisses the matter with a wave of his hand as he throws his coat over his shoulders. A shame. The nosier part of you wishes he had continued. It’s no secret that his younger brother is a divisive subject among the family due to his immaturity and habitual slacking off, but you’ve heard quite little of the boy who follows him around like a lost puppy.

“I have an acquaintance at the astrologicum who was hoping to meet you.” Artoirel, for the most part, seems genuinely oblivious to your internal monologue. He holds the door open like the truest of gentlemen and sticks close to your side as he swans elegantly down the street. Even his walk is refined, long legs sweeping nimbly over the concrete.

You try to keep your crestfallenness hidden as you follow, hoping Artoirel’s insistence is simply him overcompensating in an effort to be a good host. You’re in no shape to deny him at the moment—he’s the count, and he’s so graciously allowing you to stay in his home. Should he decide to shove you out the front gates, you’ll surely have nowhere to go.

You don’t know how you haven’t realized the potential danger in that until now.

- - -

You accompany him to the astrologicum to placate him.

You try to take your leave after dinner, hoping he’ll be too busy finishing off dessert to notice you slinking towards the living room. He does, of course. And he continues to do so. Every attempt you make to leave on your own winds up inevitably thwarted underneath his watchful gaze.

He accompanies you on walks, and you accompany him on small errands whenever he offers, figuring fresh air with him is better than none at all.

“Foot traffic is high this time of day, especially after the archbishop mandated a longer break time for the construction workers down at the lower Ishgard. I dearly hope the noise has not kept you from your sleep.” Artoirel sighs as he accompanies you through the crowd, a palm flat to your lower back.

“Forgive my intrusion, but I cannot help notice that you have been favoring your right leg. Perhaps it would be a better idea to remain inside and rest? I imagine Urianger will be quite cross with Haurchefant and I if your recovery is hampered in any way.” Artoirel says imploringly, his eyes sweet and his lashes long as he bats them.

“We have a gazebo in the gardens if you would like somewhere to enjoy a spot of fresh air,” he informs you passively over the dinner table. “Not much grows out there these days, but it has been swept down and cleaned up for your use.”

It doesn’t reassure you. The next two days are fraught with uncertainty as you await Haurchefant’s return. Conversations with Alphinaud and Tataru are a brief reprieve from the blossoming paranoia, but you deign to not tell them the truth. There’s no doubt that Alphinaud will march straight to wherever Artoirel happens to be and demand answers.

If this is all some massive understanding, you don’t want to risk jeopardizing your relationship with your host. You keep Artoirel’s suspicious insistence on keeping you cooped up a secret, even as the stress it invokes worsens your condition.

However, you are nothing if not resourceful. The balcony door to your room has remained unopened throughout your short stay. Exiting from the second level had been beyond your capabilities given your current status, but desperate times call for desperate measures. (And trapped creatures often make irrational decisions.)

Your muscles strain under the pressure of holding yourself up as you lower onto a conveniently close ledge, and then onto a trash can nestled against the brick wall. The loud rattle of the metal lid against the can makes you flinch, but the side street is blessedly empty.

Just like that, you’re free. The phantom pains grip you tight and dig into your ilms of muscle, causing you to buckle. One of your hands finds purchase against the textured brick wall, gasps rattling in and out of your lungs as you struggle to steady yourself. Spikes of frigid pain lash out at your head, the space above your eyes throbbing as you attempt to reign it all in. Your thick gloves keep your nails from grating along the brick, something you find yourself suddenly grateful for as the pain begins to clear.

You focus simply on pulling the breath in and out of your lungs, the cold air drying your throat. The rest of the world dims as you refuse to focus on it, the agony ebbing away into blissful nothingness. Only then are you able to straighten up, gaze clear as you look down the long alleyway. Ishgard’s steep spires and long roads suddenly seem to curl around you, the prospect of navigating them alone somehow intimidating.

Weeks ago, you would have been fine with exploring without a chaperone.

You’re only going on a short walk, you rationalize. Your body moves accordingly as you urge it forward, heading out of the alleyway and onto the streets proper. Each step forward is another to be proud of, you try and tell yourself, but the words ring feeble and hollow in the void of your consciousness.

- - -

Estinien, for better or for worse, has grown accustomed to traveling near exclusively via rooftop. The streets below are littered with strangers who are able to perceive him. It’s daunting in ways he refuses to admit to. The stench of raw Ishgard rubs foul against his nose when he mingles among the masses, an affront to his sharpened senses. At least the beast inside of him knows it does not belong.

Powdery snow drifts from the grey sky, dotting his hoarfrost lashes, threatening to blur his vision as they nearly melt on impact. Here, legs perched upon the thin ledge of a building’s high spire, he can comfortably separate and spectate the writhing populace. Idle people-watching has become a disturbingly frequent indulgence in between his missions and tasks.

It helps distract him from the red vines that curl around the tall buildings, from the patches of disembodied flesh that decorate the cobblestone ground. Features of Ishgard only he can see—the beast trying its hardest to convince him to leave.

Perhaps it is the human part of him that remains that enjoys this passtime, desperate for a vicarious taste of old normalcy. Of belonging. He despises it. He is no longer soft flesh and natural composition. He is hard edges and scales, branching horns and gnashing teeth all wrapped neatly under the illusion of humanity. If his glamor were to be dispelled, they would surely throw rocks and knives and weapons of every sort in his direction despite all he has done to protect them.

So he broods, and he is willing to admit that he broods. He consumes the crowd beneath him with wide sweeps of his piercing gaze.

An old woman hands over a coin purse in exchange for a pair of mittens. A child in the middle of a game of tag slips on a patch of ice, tumbling onto his knee. He hears the resulting yelp, despite his distance. The beginnings of warm, childhood nostalgia creep up on him. His jaw tightens as he prepares to beat it back—oh.

He notices someone decidedly different from the rest of the crowd. A figure that stands fulms and fulms apart, one he has seen before. The Warrior of Light. You look decidedly healthier than you had the last time he had laid eyes upon you, sheltered in the cloistered bookman’s keep. You had been crumpled by your injuries, a mess of an individual dragged in, hanging onto life by a mere thread.

You’re walking around, at the very least. Still a tad gaunt. The bags underneath your eyes are new, but he supposes you have plenty to lose sleep over after everything you have been through. He is no stranger to loss. He knows how it can rip a person’s core out, make them a shell of their former self. He sympathizes.

He dismounts his perch, climbs across roofs and spires as he follows you along, glued to the shadows. No one regards him, his armor stained deep grey with the intent of better camouflaging him.

There’s a noticeable stagger to your steps as you visit different merchants, not bothering to actually head inside any of the storefronts. Perhaps the cold is harsh on your injuries. Why, then, are you not inside? He imagines Haurchefant would be on you like a mother hen, though he recalls that the youngest Fortemps child has been sent to Camp Dragonhead for the next few days, overseeing the change of leadership.

A pity, then, that he is not able to stop you as you aimlessly float from stand to stand. With each moment your movements become more labored, more encumbered despite you having nothing on your person. It’s easy to follow you from his position so high above. Eventually, you split off from the crowd, your eyes wide and your arms drawn tightly to yourself. You stumble up the stone steps, across the street and into one of the thin alleyways, thoroughly closed off from the rest of the populace.

It is not sympathy or concern that makes him dismount his perch. The frozen air whips through his long locks and lashes at his eyes as he descends, body instinctively contorting to stick a perfect landing.

It is a curiosity that plants him so firmly before her, a need to know the woman so vaunted and pursued for himself. You, who have so immediately commanded the adoration of Ishgard’s most coveted and quiet astrologian.

You startle as he lands, the sound of the impact ricketing up and down the otherwise empty alley.

- - -

Fatigue jolts up and down your anguished limbs as you trudge through the crowd. Initially, it hadn’t been so bad. Sure, you had been a tad tired after your escape, but your condition quickly snowballed down the slope. Ishgard’s cold seeps into your body even though your thick, cushy clothes. Your capricious escape leaves you in a poor state by the time you reach the marketplace.

Hells, you wouldn’t be surprised if you managed to exacerbate your wounds in the process. Still, you flutter from stand to stand, half-heartedly looking over merchants’ wares until the whimsy to move on strikes you. It helps distract from your new, pounding headache.

One of the most appealing booths has little puppets that are hand-sewn. An array of cute, fuzzy characters is lined up atop the wooden table, alongside some plain stuffed animals. Had you actually brought your coin purse, you undoubtedly would have purchased something. One of the aforementioned plushes is a grey-pelted fox wearing a stone-faced expression, something about it reminding you of ser Aymeric.

Unfortunately, the pain grows too great. Its bitter grip ensnares you, making your breath shorten and your body tremble as you continue your trek. You’ve overstayed your welcome. You should return home. To Manor Fortemps.

You split from the crowd, heading in the direction you believe is right. It’s difficult to keep your full mental faculties whilst so distracted, so you stumble down the alley and hope for the best. The dark brick walls make the path thin and constricting.

It’s by pure chance that you manage to see a flash of red above you before it lands. It’s a fluid blur of motion, a figure descending from the heavens that you don’t quite comprehend until it lands.

Brilliant plates of red armor wrap the broad figure’s body tight. The odd pikes that extend from its form and the angular nature of the sculpt let you know this is a dragoon, albeit unlike anyone you’ve ever seen before. The helmet is absent, allowing you to fully view the individual’s face.

He possesses hardened, sharp features. A cut jawline and a nose with a high bridge. His eyes are narrow, irises a shade of icy blue. It’s the whites of his eyes that take you off guard—stained a deep crimson. Long strands of snowy hair frame his face and brush against his jawline. All things that catch your attention for a fraction of the moment, but what draws your alarm are the two, blackened horns that arch from his skull, curling backwards slightly, raised to the sky. His cheekbones are adorned with glimmering, black scales. They gleam red where the light catches off them.

Sickly, red lines akin to veins scatter across either cheek from his eyes. It’s nothing you’ve ever seen before.

You don’t see it as much as you feel it, waves of inky black void that roll off him like fog or flame. He is the picture of everything Ishgard fears all at once, the corruption of their own people by the dragons who have kept them in stalemate for hundreds of years.

Your breath stalls in your lungs, every muscle in your body seeming to tense as you struggle to comprehend his visage. Upon closer inspection, his form is absent of the gauntlets most dragoons wear. Another thick layer of scaling coats his arms from the elbows down, the tips of his fingers curling into sharp claws.

“The Warrior of Light,” he addresses you contemplatively, but his expression belies disappointment. “I had not expected to see you out of your sickbed so soon—though it looks like you’ve flown the nest before you were ready.”

“Who—what are you?” you stammer, coherency returning to you in staggered stages. You hunch against the cold, brick wall, eyes near the size of saucers as you stare him down. You don’t dare shift your gaze away from him.

The droll disappointment that colors his features vanishes, giving way into momentary surprise. One side of his mouth quirks into a crooked, shark-like smile. Even his teeth are refined into sharp points, better for ripping into flesh and chewing bone. He barks a cold, humorless laugh.

“So you can see me,” he remarks idly. The edges of your consciousness begin to burn and fray. The inky splotches that swim at the edges of your vision threaten the view you have of him. “You have truesight yet the first thing you see with it is this wretched form. I almost feel sorry for you. Aymeric was correct in his assumptions about you, though that’s for better or for worse,” he remarks as you feel yourself start to sway. Your hands grow numb. A slow tingle takes your fingertips and strokes down to your palms, sweeping to the rest of your arms.

Any panic that you might feel is swept under the growing void, too exhausted to muster even a drop of emotion.

The last thing you hear before you take the plunge is the clanking of his greaves against the stone ground.

[qvid-pro-qvo]

And, because this screams him and I can’t help myself (if you’re willing to give him a shot), #71: “How’s the weather down there, babe?” With Carisi?

sonny carisi x gender neutral reader. 

word count: 1400

rating: e for everyone, for the kinds of feelings you get on the job, and the kinds of feelings you can’t ignore (tw: mention of rape, canon-typical action, but pretty much pure fluff). 

-

“You know, you’re not funny.” The statement is paired with your hand reaching up to retousle his hair, make it look less forcibly styled, more relaxed. 

It’s an attempt at tempering the detective’s teasing, but you know better than anyone that he’s ruthless. You’re his partner after all, and stakeouts and chases and cases have informed you that there’s nothing more enjoyable to Dominick Carisi, Jr. than banter. Any opportunity he has to get a chuckle out of you, he does so with gusto, and so your statement is more of a final plea than any actual try at stopping the barrage of proverbial nudges with the elbow. You’re on a case, after all.

Sonny just raises his brow, gives you a smirk as his eyes continue to scan the bar. Because being undercover doesn’t help. It just means that the glasses he has on carry the view of the full team, and the microphone in the button of your shirt carries their ears. So you’re sure they see you roll your eyes and duck your head, and you’re positive they hear the warmth in Carisi’s voice as he just chuckles.

“Well, you married me, didn’t ya?” A reference to your ploy, in this particular instance. A pair looking for a third, with the third being a woman connected to a string of rapes and robberies across the more affluent areas of Manhattan. “And the bartender laughed, so. I think you’re feeling a little on edge, little tense. Just trying to help, yeah?” 

You snort, shaking your head. He looks better now, more loose, but you don’t know if it’s because of the hair, the way he’s leaning on the bar, or the jacket he’s wearing that fits perfect on his shoulders. He doesn’t look like a detective, he looks like a catch, and you wonder if he’s preparing to put on a show for the suspect or if the kindness in his eyes is just his natural state.

Your fingers move to the foreign object on your ring finger. You twist it, over and over, and after a moment you feel his hand cover yours. It shocks you. Makes you startle a bit. Maybe you are on edge. You won’t consider an alternative option. 

He smiles. Pulls back his hand (and you do not mourn that loss). “Lighten up, all right? In a couple of hours, this’ll be all over, and you can go back to being grumpy –“

That gives you a jumpstart. You forget for a moment about the strategy, and you just see Detective Carisi trying to get you riled. “I’m not grumpy!”

“– about the fact that you’re the one that got us here in the first place –“

“Oh, no, do not pin this on me, Carisi –“

“Guys!” Liv’s voice sounds off through your earpieces, and the both of you wince at the force of it. It’s the third time she’s berated you, but it’s only the first time she sounds serious. “We’ve got a visual. Outside the bar. Get ready.”

The two of you straighten up, and you find yourself reaching to touch Sonny’s arm, letting your fingers move down it until you can hold his hand. “Try and pretend like you like me,” you manage with a smirk, and your fellow detective just laughs a little, leaning close to press a little kiss to your cheek as the suspect pushes open the door. You’re right in her line of sight - that’s why. Surely. 

“I’ll do my best, but I think I’ve gotta say the same to you.”

The warmth in your cheeks isn’t faked. You’re not that good. But you are good enough to convince the woman, Sarah, that there’s an apartment down the block waiting for the three of you, and you are good enough to lay it on thick enough with her that she loops her arm with your own instead of Sonny’s as the three of you leave the bar. And if Sonny’s brow furrows with that, you can’t help your little laugh with Sarah about your husband’s jealous nature.

But then, because it’s the squad, and because it’s Manhattan, and because it’s just the way things go, the night doesn’t end with a peaceful arrest. No. The night ends with you sprinting up the stairwell, Sonny two flights ahead of you and his long legs carrying him further and further up.

You see Sarah shoot left. Sonny follows her. Your mind starts racing, assisted by the adrenaline, and though you’re still a few floors down you follow them – making it to the second floor, you take a sharp left, rushing down the halls. You know where she’s heading, and you’re screaming at residents to move, and you see at the end an open door.

“NYPD! I need to use your fire escape! Move!”

It’s in the nick of time that you manage to get through the window. When you look up, Sonny’s now coming down, with Sarah a few balconies below him. His long legs are tripping him up now, but you start moving to meet her, climbing with the skill of someone who’s been in New York apartments their whole life. Your collision with her bruises the both of you, but in the end you have her arms behind her.

“You’re under arrest,” you snap, lungs still heaving a little.

“What for?” she hisses, but your cuffs are on and you start pulling her down the stairs again.

“For right now? Pissing me off.”

But you go through the thing, you read her rights, and tell her what she’s really arrested for. The maneuvering down to the ground floor is the worst part, especially when you pass the window you came through, the residents of that apartment just staring at you, eyes wide.

Suddenly, you hear Sonny’s voice, still a few floors above. When you look up, you can see him peeking out and staring down at you with his hair tousled perfectly on its own.

“How’s the weather down there, babe?” he calls, and you snort, shaking your head before holding up your middle finger.

You try not to think about how that sounds in his mouth. That term of endearment, and the way that how even from down here, you can tell he’s grinning.

“I’m cleaning up after your messes, Carisi. What do you think?”

When the two of you meet down at the bottom floor, Fin is there waiting with a car, and Sarah’s put in the squad car. You’ve caught your breath, but you know you look a mess, and the sergeant just grins at you while you wait for Sonny to meet the two of you.

“What?” you ask, and he just shrugs, glancing back towards where Liv and the surveillance van sits, with her and Amanda and Barba still inside.

“Listening to Carisi flirt? Painful enough. Listening to you flirt back? Let’s just say I’m glad we didn’t have to spend the whole night in that van.” He’s grinning, now, and you swallow. “Playing with his hair for what, twenty minutes, huh?” 

“Bullshit,” you shoot off, instantly, a reaction, but the way that Fin is looking at you just makes your cheeks warm, for the third time that night.

“Whatever you say.”

He doesn’t look convinced, and you can’t blame him, but you have to put up some kind of fight. “We were on a case! That was the whole job!”

“For the hour before Sarah showed?” Fin asks you, and that’s what makes you avoid his gaze, shaking your head. His voice softens, when he speaks again, lowers his voice so it’s just between the two of you. “Look. Just be careful, all right? The both of you. This job is hard enough, but. When it’s someone you care about…”

When you look back at Fin, there’s no judgement there. You’re grateful, for him and the words as you see Sonny come through the front entrance to the apartment building.

“Yeah. I hear you, Fin.”

“Meet you at the precinct?”

“Yeah.”

You do care about Dominick Carisi, Jr., and you might not tell him just yet, but. When he offers you a ride home, offers you his coat when the night air gets chilly, when he gives you a smile paired with brilliant baby blues, you can’t help but feel like he cares about you, too.

“Was Fin giving you a hard time?” he asks, sidling up next to you as you watch the sergeant walk away.

“Nah,” you return. “Just telling me how he couldn’t believe you let Sarah get away.”

“Now wait a minute –“

[popculturebuffet]

Life And Times of Scrooge McDuck Retrospective: The New Laird of Castle McDuck! “And I’ll Remember It Poppa! There’s Always Another Rainbow!”

Hello all you happy people! And welcome back to my look at the Life and Times of Scrooge McDuck! And to make up for lost time im’ doing two instalments this month, and with luck and my schedule holding out I plan to finish the main series in September, doubling up again for the last two months to finish this up. 

Background wise there’s honestly not a lot this go round, as it’s less rooted in history and more Don Rosa’s need to settle an annoying flaw with continuity. Man oh man do I relate to that and having read comics for at least half my life, i’ve seen writers do this by the bucketload to fix decisions from other writers. Sometimes for the write reasons and sometimes because EVERYTHING WAS BETTER ON MY EARTH. Don Rosa, like most writers.. has done both. 

Here though it’s for the good and for understandable reasons: Barks had Scrooge’s origin as a poor shoeshine boy from Glasgow.. but also had a rather famous and awesome story, the Old Castle’s Secret, that also gave them a giant ancestral castle. Rosa fixed this by having the McDuck’s having lost it due to a combination of being driven off the land by a fake ghost dog and poor turns of fourtune meaning they coudln’t pay the taxes to live there and were behind on taxes on it, hence the Whiskervilles having taken it over in part one. 

But obviously the Whiskervilles coudln’t KEEP the castle as Scrooge owned it in present day, thus this chapter explains how he got it. It was a stroke of genius plot wise too as it allowed him to open each act in Scotland and using the castle to measure where Scrooge is in life: As a boy dreaming of getting it back, as a young man who while not a success succeeds at this, and as an older hardned man who realizes he simply doesn’t belong here anymore who has to leave his family’s legacy here behind to start a better one in America. 

The only other real story is that a sequence here was based on the film A Matter of Life and Death, and Rosa detailed in his notes his quest to get a copy as the distribution rights here were a nightmare at the time. Thankfully that’s clearly changed as a quick look on Amazon shows both a standard DVD release, mentioned by rosa in the book and a snazzier release by the Criteron Collection are both easily available. He ended up getting a copy from Canada, and while he didn’t get any insight at least got a neat addition to his collection. Admittedly this dosen’t add much to the story, I just thought it was neat. So with all of that settled, join me after the cut as Scrooge tries to buy back his family’s legacy.

And Scrooge has already arrived in Scotland, having reunited with Downy and Matilda, who as a refresher is more responsible and straightlaced here versus the 2017 incarnation.  Part of me DOES wish they hadn’t glossed over the reunion especially since this chapter is the last time we’ll see Scrooge and his Mom together before her utterly heartbreaking passing a few chapters down the road. But I get why we opened here instead: it’s a captivating open, with Scrooge speeding to the castle, his mother and sister trying to stave the rain off and time clearly of the essence. It sucks you in as we don’t know WHY Scrooge was summoned last time, only that it was bad enough he needed to come home, and thus ratchet’s up the tension until we find out shortly. 

It turns out the back taxes on Castle McDuck are up and the castle is being sold., doing so with some glasses, foreshadowing his iconic specs wearing as the snow and brightness of the praries in various seasons mean his eyes are all done fucked up like mine.  The Whiskervilles are naturally not only the prospective buyer but already trying to take the property prematurely, with Fergus and Jake holding the line, because love isn’t always on time. But Hortense is and when the Whiskervilles mock her daddy and uncle, planning to tear down the castle out of spite, her response reminds us why donald is a ball of rage and badassery...

Have I mentioned she’s my favorite part of this story? Because she is. Her response to scrooge being back is also just pure adorable. 

Scrooge does get a big reunion with his dad and uncle, getting a big hug from Fergus, if squshing his cream cheese sandwitch... and yes that’s apparently a real thing. I mean I do love me some cream cheese don’t get me wrong, but it just feels weird to put it on bread as the only thing, but I guess i’m a bit spoiled with crackers and bagels in my day and age or putting it on tosat with salmon and.. saying all of this both makes me very hungry for cream cheese. So I guess i’ts not all bad it’s just weird to me, especially since I don’t think it’d keep all that well unregrigrated but I also don’t know the times that well. Or maybe when your that poor and hungry, it dosen’t matter how good it is and maybe i’m just spoiled by my upper middle class existance. I dunno. The point is i’m going to go get me some cream cheese be back in a minute. Here have some music. 

For all two of you that didn’t clear out, Fergus naturally for the time, turns out to be sexist, insisting Jake get “The Women” home.

Though Rosa gets a great joke out of it by having Jake wonder if he can even reign Hortense in. And I do love Hortense’s character. Whlie i’ts simple, she’s simply an angrier version of her son without the penchant for half-assed schemes, it works and makes her stand out against the more subdued rest of the McDuck family outside of Scrooge. 

Fergus explains HOW it got so bad to Scrooge: While the McDuck ancestors pooled resources to automatically pay the taxes, eventually only having two poor old men who could barely keep their family fed and a slightly less poor pulp fiction writer somewhere in America meant the taxes piled up and the Whiskervilles are within a whisker’s reach of gettng the castle, something mentioned in part 1. 

It also provides a great payoff to the first part of Scrooge’s journey: while the boy bemoans only having gotten the 10,000 dollar check from the mine sale, and that will only just about cover the castle’s taxes, he feels disheratned as it’s ALL he’s accomplished.. but in a nice moment from Fergus he points it WASN’T all for nothing: Thanks to his work they get their home back. His family can move from the cramped confines of Dismal Downs back to their ancestral homeland like they always deserved. While he may of not achieved his goal of being rich yet.. he still achieved his goal of buying the castle back, the very thing that set him on this path in the first place. It’s telling though that it takes a reminder of that, that Scrooge is loosing sight of the very human, for lack of a better term, reasons he set out: while he’s finally built a better life for his family, if just so.. all he can see is that he’s not RICH. The money is starting to cloud his judgement.. and i’tll roll over him entirely before the series is over. 

The Head of the Whiskervilles shows up with the Sheirff.. whose also a Whiskerville lest you thought unfair and crooked policing was a strictly american thing. But Fergus points out their too early.. and Scrooge flashes his check. And when the Head Whiskerville scoffs at a mcduck having money... Scrooge points out he didn’t believe in ghosts either and brags about his awesomeness in the first chapter, revealing what he did and leaving The SHierff pissed and the older whiskerville ready with a plan: he decide......

Sadly not with children’s trading cards but with swords, and gets past the legality issue by simply challenging Scrooge’s pride and angering him into accepting. Argus, the head whiskerville whose name I just got from the comic, reveals his plan to the Shierff: While he’s dueling Scrooge Sheirff can snatch the bank statment.. though why Scrooge didn’t you know, cash it before coming and how an american banks tatment is valid in early 1900′s Scotland...

So the Duel is on.. and like the money he’s made, the Duel is another Marker of how far Scrooge has come and how despite still not having made his fortune yet he’s rich with EXPERINCE. His experince fighting cattle rustlers and pirates means he has the reflexes to easily outfight his opponent.. though him saying he learned how to fight “Injun Style from Buffallo Bill”, i.e. learned how to fight like a native american from a white guy and beat Sitting Bull with it just makes me feel like i’m watching that episode of Saved by the Bell where Zach has to learn not to be racist but then thinks this outfit is acceptable. 

Scrooge also tracks the guy using the tracking skills he learned from the blackfeet which again feel like the picture above , but send Argus running.. only to lure Scrooge into a fight on the castle battlemnt in the pooring rain and disarming him. Luckily the spirit of Sir Quackly gives the lad his sword back and Scrooge wins the fight.. but promptly gets hit by lighting while celebrating Caddyshack style. 

No really Scrooge is.. or close as he got knocked into the water and is now in heaven. Sir Quackly naturally doesn’t want to see the last hope of the Clan McDuck dies and goes to talk to the tribunal of McDucks to sort it out hence the Matter of Life And Death connection. 

The Tribunal is made up of former McDucks.. it turns out Scrooge is here because of Quackly: the lighting was SUPPOSED to hit the tower, distracting Argus, and they prepare to write Scrooge off because their more concerned with golf than the fact that their whole clan’s future is on the line.. which I do not get because unless you are Tiger Woods or the Film Caddyshack, golf usually is the boring garbage water of sports and this is from someone who dosen’t like sports to begin with. I do like the Missing Links of Moorshire though so there’s that. And golf episodes of shows are usually good.. the sport itself is just incredibly boring. And I sat through Mank. I know boring. I know wanting hours of my life back. Golf is the Mank of Sports. 

What we get is a pretty tiresome sequence honestly: Quackly points out the tribuanls faults while their just dicks who only care about golf. Which again, Mank of sports. Or if you prefer the Cloud Atlas of sports but with SLIGHTLY less untetionall racisim and sadly much less Tom Hanks and Hugh Grant. The point is golf sucks and while I ilke the REST of this chapter this bit just dosen’t work for me and was clearly funnier in Rosa’s head, with the assholes not thinking much of Scrooge’s achievements and only liking him when they find out he’ll be a tight wad, the only funny joke in these draggy as hell three pages, not counting the start and finish of the sequence which arnet bad, as they send him back to earth with Quackly mentioning the dime, but not giving out WHY it’s important. That he has to figure out on his own and all that good stuff. 

So Scrooge uses his dime to unscrew the bolts and back at the castle while Argus TRIES to pawn it off as Scrooge being a coward and depart with the bank draft.... 

Damnnnn that’s badass, he gets the bank note back (only knowing because one of his ancestors mentioned it, though with his memory of the dying dream gone he dosen’t know WHY), and has Fergus run into town to pay the taxes tonight before any other shenanigans happen while he keeps the two scheming dogmen captive long enough for Fergus to get too far for them to catch up.  Argus plans to go with plan “Do a murder on Scrooge”.. but fines Scrooge is far from unprotected and not the only badass in his family.. I mean Hortense exists but I mean that ther’es more than two... you know what jut look at the ghost heads. 

So the two run for their lives..... also they forgot you know Hortense exists.. she’d revenge murder all of them and they both know it. 

So with the land safe and the taxes paid so the Family can implicitly move in, we end on a beautiful sunrise as Scrooge prepares to leave soon. Despite all the setbacks and hardship Scrooge is deterimend to still make it and knows he won’t fail forever. When Fergus mentions Gold at the end of a rainbow, Scrooge takes that, and the golden dawn as a sign. WHen Fergus understandably asks if he’s sure he’ll make it this time.. we get a nice nod to Bark’s best and most notable painting “always another rainbow to close us out”

It’s a beauitful and inspiring statment.. no matter what you face.. there’s always a light at the end of it. Always another opportunity, another goal to reach, another hill to climb.. and life to live... and it’s one i’ve taken to heart and always will.. and one that will land Scrooge his fortune yet. 

Final Thoughts: This chapter is alright but like I said the two page sequence in heaven dosen’t really work for me. It’s just not funny enough and really shoudl’ve been trimmed down a page so we could get more character stuff with Scrooge and his family> Otherwise it’s a tightly paced thrilling chapter in Scrooge’s life, showing just how far he’s come and how far he has left to go. The DIsmal Downs chapter serve as a good marker of where Scrooge is and where he’s heading as I mentioned earlier, with this one showing that while he’s not hit his goal yet, he still got his family their true home back, beat his enmeis and is a legend to be. Ther’es always another rainbow.. and he just needs to find it. All in all a decent chapter outside those two pages, and a good setup for the next three glorious chapters. 

Next Month on LIfe and Times: One is Scroogey and the other is FLINTHEART GLOMGOLD, as Scrooge meets his arch enemy and rides a motherfucking lion. And if “rides a motherfucking lion” doesn’t make you come back I do not know why you read this.  Next Time On This BLog: What is that, that Freaky Thing? It’s A naked Mole rat as we return to Kauai this time with Kim Possible and Co as Drakken tries to capture stitch and Jumba wonders if Rufus is one of his or not. 

See you at the next rainbow

[og-danny-dorito]

[ Tanjiro Headcanons To Fuel The Fluff/Angst Tank ]

He Is Baby™ thank you very much and i love him with my whole heart

- hi hello i would like to share my thoughts on this baby cause i love him v much

- he gives me the vibe that he would def love anything strawberry related. like strawberry milk, strawberry shortcake, strawberry yogurt- the list goes ON

- he would eat them more often if they weren't so godamn expensive, and most of the time you can only find those kinds of products when in the city and he mostly travels through the woods rather than through heavily populated areas. he does get them when he can though, and usually has some stocked up when he and nezuko leave rural areas

- thats not the only fruit he likes though! hes also a huge fan of cherries but he gets those even less since they're even MORE expensive. he also very much likes mint chocolate chip icecream! something about the clash of dark chocolate and refreshing mint is just so good to him, and usually he’ll try to look for that specific flavor if theres any icecream places nearby. my basis for that?

- thankfully though he doesnt really buy things from others since he just gets most of his food from the surrounding forest. you see, tanjiro literally lived in the woodlands for most of his early life before the whole 'incident', so hes accustomed to being more of a hunter-gatherer when it comes to those sorts of things

- he knows a whole bunch of stuff about forest plants and topography for that reason specifically, and can make food out of pretty much nothing due to having to go through some rough winter times that required scavenging

- overall though hes a pretty good cook! his father and mother both liked to cook and bake and all that before they died, and, being eager to help and learn, he usually watched them when they did or asked to help with preparing the food

- he actually probably has a lot of domestic skills, now that i think about it. things like sewing up ripped clothing or repairing damaged items are almost muscle memory to him since he was raised to value what he had and not aimlessly spend his money due to his humble beginnings

- he’s actually more comfortable with simple things rather than lavish ones since thats what he grew up with. being a demon slayer means that he does get commissioned to do things sometimes or paid for it, but he usually gives most of his money to poeple who need it after spending some of what he has on more efficient and useful things like better fabric for clothes and repairs for things that he doesn't have the skill set to fix himself

- due to this humble attitude he has for things, he barely ever really treats himself to things he enjoys. he usually puts others before himself and thus forgets about his own needs, leading him to often deny taking care of himself if he deems to 'not have enough time' or 'not being important enough”

- usually forcing him to sit down and eat or at least take a moment to drink some tea can calm his nerves a ton, even if its only just for a second

- i'm pretty sure that his favorite drink is green tea (or strawberry milk), actually. its just so naturally calming and relaxing that he usually uses it as a staple for calming himself down or taking a breather from the stressful life he's lead so far

- for someone that barely takes care of himself hes awfully adamant about others taking acare of themselves. oh, you haven't slept in three days because of work? guess what you're going to sleep right now. no, dont Mention how he keeps moving even though he should be in bed because of a broken rib, your needs come first now go to sleep

- deeefinitely the mom friend type in more ways then one. its p obvious that he already takes care of Nezuko, Zenitsu and Inosuke as good friends of his, but hes kinda adamant on taking care of them almost like they're younger than him or something. this doesnt mean that they can’t take care of themselves of course, he just kinda feels the natural instinct to protect people he values if he can (mainly due to the fear that he’ll suddenly loose them without making it clear he cares about them first but we will unpack that suitcase LATER in the list)

-for that reason i can safely say that he's probably fantastic with kids because of his gentle nature. hes just so soft and pure that children naturally feel calm around him? its weird how like a baby will literally stop crying in a city full of people just because they saw tanjiro wave and smile at them and as SOON as hes out of eyesight they start crying again. also tanjiro holding a baby? you CANNOT tell me this man wouldnt softly sing some lullaby he remembers from his childhood to a child cradled in his arms, fast asleep. and the smile he gives to the person who finds him like that is BLINDING i cannot comprehend the purity-

-the EXACT same thing goes for animals. its straight up canon that he understands (to an extent) what birds are saying when they're chirping to one another, so its probably safe to assume that he might understand a little bit of what other animals may be saying when they communicate

- yet another effect of living in the forest most of his life and being way too observant at his age :p

- when dogs bark he responds to them out of instinct, knowing what they mean. when some pig just randomly snorts at him don't be surprised when he just says "oh, thank you!" in the most earnest tone possible because he probably knows what the animal said and is responding to it honestly. answering like he's pretending to know what it means would be dishonest, and thats too out of character for the sunshine boy

-its also gotta be mentioned that tanjiro physically rejects the concept of being dishonest. i swear to god I'm not making this up- when hes lying its so easy to tell because his face is physically rejecting the concept that hes not being sincere

-this goes for pretty much anything- he cant really blatantly lie without shifting in place or making a weird expression. its no expection that when asked about his feelings that he can barely keep a straight face by saying that he's "okay"

-theres just so much pent up grief and sorrow for so many things that its hard to really say that he's "just fine" or "alright" some days. the accumulation of trauma and guilt has lead up to this constant dread boiling in the pit of his stomach that he'll fail one day, and this would've been all for nothing

-he'll die one day without his goals being met, without Nezuko being healed, without his friends safe, without so many things that he thought he could fix that will eat him up until he fixes them. he doesn't have frequent depressive episodes all that often anymore since Sakonji helped him with that (kind of, it was kind of a group effort by his other superiors, the Pillars, too with some reassurance and advice since a good portion have Been There Done That with the survivor’s guilt and the like) in terms of teaching him how to meditate more frequently and search for positive outlets for his negative feelings. he helped him accept that it was okay to feel bad about it, but he couldn't give up, no matter what. because “What worth was your dream if you just gave up in the end?”

-and so he doesn't. he never gives up, on anything. he refuses to give up when his friends are in danger and the odds are against him, or when hes face to face with an eldritch demon who's been alive longer than the numbers he can count. tanjiro is incredibly persistent in his efforts, big or small, and makes a conscious decision every time to not abandon what he worked for because the phrase "What worth was your dream if you just gave up in the end?" motivates him to be better than who he was yesterday and try his best to reach his dreams

- because of this he's a heavy believer that most people can change. i say most because I'm pretty sure he knows Muzan will never change, or some of the other terrible people in the world. he's accepted over time that he can’t help everyone, but he'll be damned if he doesn't try his hardest in figuring ot if they are truly, genuinely, capable of being better. so he's incredibly supportive of people who actually do make efforts to improve themselves because he knows how hard it is to come from such a bad situation/bad mindset and reteach good values and habits

- that doesn't mean that poeple are expempt from their punishments of course- everyone deserves the consequences of their actions to be better to know what to improve on, but he has sympathy for the poeple who's consequences stop their lives short (example, countless demons that he feels terrible for because they came from really bad situations)

-since he knows how hard it is to improve on anything- he’s very very supportive to people who do that for themselves or for others. in fact, he would go out of his way for about anyone to make their life a little better but if he sees someone struggling their way to their personal best he'll happily be a help to them in any way that they can. oh, you were training really hard today and had no success in perfecting a certain technique? its alright, you can just lay down right now while he fixes your bath water and tomorrow he'll help you out with it in any way he can. hes the best cheerleader!

-overall tanjiro is very sweet and kind, even though he has personal problems with his own demons and feeling as if he's a burden most of the time. for all this suffering, he views the prosperity of the people around him worth it and is selfless to the end of the line for those whom he cares about

[ ~Thank You For Reading!~ ]

[i-just-love-spop]

The Coffee Paradox

My first piece for the Glimbow Week Countdown! I’m running a Glimbow Week over at @glimbow-week-2020 in a couple of weeks, check out the account for more information!

Written for the Glimbow Week Countdown Prompt “cooking”, based off of a prompt request from @amozon28 that I got a while ago. She requested the prompt “The tea tastes weird.” “Might be because that's coffee.” for Glimbow. Sorry this took so long, hope you enjoy!

Summary: Bow and Glimmer have breakfast together on a calm morning after the war.

[Takes place a bit after the show.]

Heads up, there’s one or two very minor sex references, but nothing explicit, in general the fic is completely sfw.

Also, the fact that Glimmer gets eggs for breakfast is purely coincidental and has nothing in the slightest to do with @tippenfunkaport and the fact that her fic for this prompt made me sad and I had to cope with it somehow (seriously though go read her fic it’s really good)!

—

It was a calm morning in Bright Moon. The soft morning light shone through the curtains of the private kitchen that was attached to Glimmer’s bedroom but that she’d rarely ever used for a very long time.

Glimmer stood there, in the middle of the kitchen, taking in both the breath of fresh air from the window that Bow had apparently opened before he’d left the room to do – she wasn’t sure what he was doing, exactly, but at least he wasn’t in here anymore at the moment –, and the wonderful odor of the breakfast he’d made... warm pancakes, scrambled eggs and her favorite fruit juice were all waiting on the dining table for her. The smell alone was enough to made her mouth water.

‘Moons, how did I get so lucky?’

For a bit, Glimmer just stood at the window and took in the view of the world outside the castle that was slowly waking up. People were laughing, kids were playing in the fields and at the water, some even going for a morning swim. When looking at the world from up here, you could barely tell that there had been a war going on until very recently.

Sometimes Glimmer couldn’t help but think that an entire lifetime had passed between the end of the war and this morning, when I’m reality, it had barely been a few weeks.

There had been more peaceful mornings since the war was over. It felt weird... but the good kind of weird.

Sure, there was still work to do, but almost everyone seemed to sleep easier these days, and everyone deserved a couple of lazy mornings every now and again after everything they’d went through.

Heck, even Adora managed to sleep most nights now that Catra was with her. She even managed to sleep in, which was possibly the weirdest thing about this situation. ‘Adora’ and ‘sleeping in’ were about the last two words any of them would have ever put in the same sentence up until a couple of weeks ago.

...but she did now. And it made Bow and Glimmer incredibly happy to see that their friend was doing so much better after seeing her inability to relax in action for years prior.

As for the Queen of Bright Moon and her future King... they maybe didn’t get as much sleep as they used to since their first official date, but for good reasons only.

Bow had wanted their first kiss to be special, so he’d taken his girlfriend – she was his girlfriend now, the thought still made Glimmer feel all mushy inside – out on a starlight picnic as soon as they had the time.

That evening, everything had fallen into place.

Glimmer smiled at the memory.

‘We kissed, alright.’

And they’d done much more that night, and since then, and she couldn’t remember if she’d ever felt quite as happy in her life as she was feeling right now. Things were still far from perfect, of course... her mother’s absence had left a burning hole in her heart that she didn’t think anything would ever be able to make whole again, and there was also the looming guilt of the mistake she’d made that she would never be entirely able to forget... and trying to form a normal father-daughter-relationship with Micah after loosing him at such a young age and after she’d long come to terms with his supposed death wasn’t the easiest thing either – but as long as Bow was with her, she felt like she could take on the world, or maybe even the entire galaxy.

When she’d been younger, before discovering her powers and learning to control them, she’d envied her mother’s wings, her ability to fly. She’d long worked past these feelings... but now, when she was around Bow, she felt like she finally understood what it felt like to fly. She didn’t think she’d ever grow tired of the way his hand felt in hers or the way her heart skipped a beat every time he looked at her.

Sometimes she still had nightmares... but she was slowly starting to get them under control. Talking about it got easier as time went by – even though she knew it was never going to be easy –, and even when she wasn’t alright, Bow was there to hold her and kiss her and tell her she was safe with him.

Speaking of Bow...

“Morning, Love.” He hugged her from behind and gave her a kiss on the cheek as she turned around. “I hope I didn’t wake you when I got up earlier, but I felt like doing something special for you today.”

“Don’t worry.” She grinned. “I slept pretty well after our... exercise yesterday.“

Glimmer winked and kissed her boyfriend as his cheeks heated up.

For a moment, they just stood there, happily making out in the middle of the kitchen.

“We really can’t keep our hands off each other, huh?” He asked softly with the usual sweet smile in his face when they broke apart, and all she wanted to do was immediately pull him into another kiss because nope she definitely did not want to keep her hands off him, but he’d made breakfast and it was getting cold, so making out further would have to wait, because if they continued on like that, they’d be in the bedroom rather than the kitchen in what Glimmer guessed was approximately five minutes from now.

“I’m afraid we’ll have to, or the food you put so much effort into will end up being cold.” She chuckled and winked at him. “We‘ll continue this later.”

“As you wish.” He gave her another quick peck on the cheek, then pulled back a chair and gestured for her to sit down on it. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to leave you alone with all the food, I thought you were still asleep and wanted to take the opportunity to go outside and collect some of these before I woke you up.”

He sat down next to her and held a small bowl of strawberries in her direction. Her face lit up even more.

“Oh stars, I love you so much. You’re amazing. How did I get so lucky?”

Bow felt his heart flutter in his chest at the way her eyes lit up when she looked at him. Every morning that he woke up next to her, he wondered how exactly he’d taken so long to realize what Glimmer really meant to him when it was so blatantly obvious now that nobody in the galaxy could ever compare to her.

He’d missed her every second they’d been apart, and now that he’d found her again, he was planning on holding onto her for the rest of his life – if she’d let him.

“I love you, too,” He whispered softly, still every bit as mesmerized by how she looked as he had been the first time. Her hair sparkled brightly in the soft morning light, and Bow couldn’t help but think that his girlfriend was visibly as much of an angel as her mother had been. “We’re both incredibly lucky, Glim.”

She smiled softly at him, and her heart melted from the way he smiled back at her.

“Guess we are.“

Gosh, how much she’d longed for him to look at her like this over the last couple of years, despite refusing to admit it. And now they were a couple, and she couldn’t be happier.

—

The food tasted heavenly, and they had a really nice breakfast... for the most part.

Everything was really good – except for the coffee Glimmer had made while Bow had been outside gathering strawberries.

Bow winced a bit as he took the first sip, despite his best efforts to hide it out of politeness.

“Huh. This tea tastes a bit weird.”

He put the mug down. All his politeness wasn’t enough to get him to have another sip.

“Might be because that's coffee,” Glimmer replied and chuckled a bit.

Bow raised an eyebrow.

“That’s coffee?” He stared at her blankly for a moment when she nodded. “Glimmer, honey, I love you, but we really need to work on your cooking skills.”

He gave her a polite smile, already feeling bad because he didn’t like criticizing her when it came to stuff like that. She was trying, and he found it very sweet that she was, and a lot of the time, what she made came out fine – sometimes great, even – but this wasn’t one of those times.

It was weird, actually. She’d made coffee before. It wasn’t the greatest, but it wasn’t that terrible usually...

“Come on, it can’t be that ba-” Glimmer took a sip herself and oh by Etheria’s moons did she stand corrected. She had a hard time not spitting the ‘coffee’ – honestly whatever this really was had no right to be called that – across the table. She decided to just spit it back into the mug instead, and then spent several seconds wiping her tongue with a napkin. Anything to get the taste out of her mouth. “You swallowed that? I’m so sorry.” Glimmer winced and gave her boyfriend an apologetic look. “What did I do to that? Moons, this tastes...” She grimaced. “Okay, note to self, no more making coffee when I’m too tired to function.”

Bow chuckled and smiled at his girlfriend.

“So... before you’ve had coffee?”

He really should have known it was that. Glimmer had never been a morning person, after all.

‘Her sleepiness explains it, alright.’

She shrugged and then joined in on the laughing.

“Huh, yeah, I guess. Can’t make coffee if I’m tired, and can’t stop being tired without having coffee. Eternal coffee paradox,” She joked, making her boyfriend chuckle.

Sometimes she wondered if laughing at even your friend’s dumbest jokes should have been a dead giveaway that they were in love with each other.

“How about we stick to me making coffee in the morning in that case, then? Paradox solved,” Bow added, kissing her cheek.

“That... might be a good idea.”

Glimmer had gone back to her delicious pancakes

He didn’t mind. At all. To be quite honest, he actually loved spoiling his girlfriend. The way her face lit up over little things (like him bringing her coffee in the morning) was adorable, and if it made her happy, he would gladly keep doing it for the rest of their lives.

“In all seriousness, though... if you want to, I can show you a couple tricks when it comes to cooking? Just an idea, of course. Your usual cooking when you’re not sleep deprived is fine. I just thought cooking together might be nice.“

“I mean, it does sound nice...“ She took another bite of the scrambled egg, which was the only thing left on her plate. It had been a while since they’d done stuff as normal as cooking together. “But we don’t have time for that right now. There’s more important-” Glimmer started, then stopped herself mid-sentence.

Actually... there wasn’t. Sure, there was still towns in need of rebuilding, but most Etherians were doing a pretty good job taking care of their homes themselves, and while that of course didn’t mean the princesses didn’t still help wherever they could... it did mean that occasionally, they were able to take some time to themselves and do stuff like cooking together, or going on dates, or going for a swim in Mystacor, without half of Etheria falling back apart or getting attacked while they were gone.

“Huh... actually, I guess we could do that.” She put her hand on his, fingers intertwining in the middle of the table as she sighed softly. “I’m... still not used to not going to battle constantly.”

He ran his thumb over the palm of her hand gently and smiled at her softly.

“Takes some time getting used to, doesn’t it?” Bow sighed. “I think all of our heads are still in the war half the time, despite the fact that it ended. But it will get better, eventually. I just know it will. And until then, we’ll go every step of the way together, yeah?”

She squeezed his hand a little tighter and smiled at him.

“Yeah. Every step of the way.”

—

She’d come to figure out that she loved cooking with her boyfriend very soon.

[buccigang-headcanons]

La Squadra Backstories!!!! Stream of consciousnesss style!

So literally I just sat down and wrote down exactly what I thought. I have not edited these at all lmaooo. But I made long drawn out backstories for our underrated assassins so enjoy!!

T/W + C/W - idk I talk about people dying in a lot of ways. Child abuse, drugs, severe illness, dead cats. This stuff is a mess I really didn’t censor it. But nothing is described in detail cuz I’m too lazy for that.

————

Prosciutto cuz he’s at the top of my mind. Mmkay he and Pesci are brothers but not by blood. Pro was an orphan, I still wanna make him Russian, and pesci’s extremely kind and gentle family adopted him when he was like 7. They were like literally a garden catalogue family. Perfection. The parents died when pro was like 15, Pesci was 13?? Idk the age difference I’m just making shit up now. And Pesci had no fucking idea what to do, they didn’t have any other family, and pro was like “I’m still basically a hardened criminal from living on the streets of russia most of my childhood, so joining the local mafia should be a piece of cake”. It was.

Risotto..... fuck it. Polpo is risottos dad. I’ve seen that so much and fuck it I’m here for it now. Idk how I feel about the whole Mariah from part 3 being his mom that seems too coincidental. But either way, he is half Spanish. I don’t think he’s ever been in touch with his Spanish roots at all, but that’s what he is. Polpo had too much fun on vacay in Spain. But it was a once night stand and polpo, a skinny king back in the mid 70s, fucked off to do mafia stuff and didn’t know about this kid. Risotto never knew his father. Time goes by, about the time he’s 10, rizzo’s mom moves to Italy to find the man she once loved. Since the 70s, she has been married and divorced 4 times, disowned by her entire family, and she speaks only of Polpo, the man who swept her off her feet and then disappeared into the night. Leaving only this child with his matching eyes. So they live in Italy, risotto is about 13 now and his mom has been searching seriously for polpo for about 3 years. One day, she gets too close, mafia takes her out. Risotto is all alone in a country he has lived in for less than 3 years. So he decides to take revenge against the mafia. He goes to hunt them down. (I’m too lazy to write out how. Gets a gun. Basically the scene in part 5 where the kid is like “you killed my father and now I’m gonna kill you!!” But he chickens out???) yeah except rizzo didn’t chicken out, he stood firm and killed 2 of them. The other 2 surrendered, and immediately asked rizzo to take polpos test. He did. And he unknowingly met his father, the man his mother had died looking for. He stared into his fathers eyes, black sclera reflecting each other, and passed his test with ease.

Wowwwwwwwww alrighty then that was something. Let’s shake out those jitters because fuck that was intense and let’s move onto some happy shit.

Melone!! Always a bottle of joy. He was a phenomenal student, a perfect child. Perfect grades, perfect attitude, perfect looks. Onlyyyy tiny thing is he murdered cats and buried their heads in the back yard. But that was his only flaw. Aaaaaaaand mayyybe trying to use his extensive knowledge of molecular biology and genetics (even at as young as 11) to asexually breed said cats.

But, apart from that, absolutely perfect specimen of a young boy. And he kept that up until college. Until the rape accusation. Melone had no interest in having sex with her, he swore under oath in open court, he only wanted to “extract her essence” in the hopes of making her amazing genetics stay pure for centuries.

Due to his previously amazing school record, he was allowed to plead not guilty by reason of insanity (because the justice system is bullshit) and was released to his parents. During this whole process, Melone’s mother had begun to grow suspicious of her son, wondering if there was something wrong with him. This led her to explore the crawl space under the garage, more commonly known as “Melone’s childhood laboratory”. The cat skulls alone were enough to set her off. They allowed him into their home long enough to fool the court, but parole officers don’t pay attention, and they kicked him to the curb a month later. Broke, alone, and with no real skills other than his genius mind and gorgeous body, he became a prostitute. It was only a few months before he wandered up to a gigantic white haired man with angry eyes and asked if he wanted a date. Instead of declining, our good ol rizzo just knocked him out cold and brought him home. The rest is history. Literally because I can’t think of what would happen between that and Melone joining the mafia. I assume he was just their house pet for a little while before he decided he wanted a stand too.

Oh good lord these are getting insane. Better keep going. Okay I have no idea what’s about to come out of my head for ghia but oh Lordy. Might as well start. Ghiaccio wasn’t always quite as angry, but it’s actually gonna be a sweet story. Kinda. He used to act perfect, even tho he always felt the anger inside. He was forced to bottle it up and put on a happy exterior always. His mother was Belgian. (From experience, Belgian mothers (Flemish in particular) will beat you until your ass is raw if you talk back). Italian father, they lived in italy. He had 4 sisters, he was the middle child of 5. Around high school, he started acting out. Of course this was due to all of his bottled up anger from the past 15 years. 4 shattered sinks, 16 holes in the drywall, and one classroom fire later, Ghiaccio was expelled from school. His parents were too busy brimming with joy about the success of all his sisters that they didn’t take much notice to him. “If you’re going to behave in such a manner you might as well leave” his mother said. She was past the point of caring enough to beat him. So he left. 16 and with no where to go, he wandered the streets. After a year or so, Ghia had gotten used to that life, and was angry at everyone, sometimes when he wasn’t even angry. Anger had become his coping mechanism. Screaming was easier than talking. Until one day, he screamed at a blonde man in an intersection. Prosciutto was driving back to the squads hang out, boxes of takeout in the back seat of the car. He had chosen to not stop at the red light, just for fun, and nearly ran into our blue haired teenager. Ghia proceeded to cuss him out for a good 4 minutes in the middle of this intersection before pro cut him off. “Get in the back. “ he said, with his own special brand of brotherly love. “I know how you can put that anger to good use”. Ghiaccio, having no real reason to object, got in the back seat. Prosciutto was silent the rest of the drive and Ghiaccio yelled about all the take out food, now splattered on the backs of the seats due to the sudden slam on the brakes.

Y’all I don’t even remember the other la squadra members. Let’s do sorbet/gelato because they have zero backstory or personality so I can just ramble. *Clears throat* let’s begin. These fuckers. Friends since birth. Grew up together, always really close. They were both dirt poor, but because the only school nearby was a decent public school, when were able to slightly experience middle class living. They liked it. They wanted to see upper class, and once they did, they wanted to be there. These two were money grubbing bffs, I’m talking josuke and okuyasu, but like waaaaay more intense and also violent. They both left home around 14, together of course. Gelatos father had left them a few years prior, and his family were on the brink of starvation. Figuring they didn’t need another mouth to feed (and completely abandoning his post as family patriarch lol) he left with sorbet, who’s family had all died in various ways over the years. Most recently, his older sister being taken by some illness that was probably easily treatable, but with no means for a doctor, she died in days. The boys left home and school, and made a living by pickpocketing tourists and occasionally launching into larger heists. They made a decent living for themselves, but eventually started spending their money on drugs. It’s was sorbet first, heroin was really good to him for awhile. Gelato was against it, knowing it was the reason sorbets family had been so poor to begin with. His father was an addict, and despite holding down a job fairly well, spent all his earnings on drugs. Eventually he became too dependent, lost his job, and OD’d. But around this same time, when the boys were 16/17, they were starting to realize their feelings for each other. Confused teenaged minds full of budding love led to Gelato giving in, and soon their days were filled with heroin fueled ecstatic sex. They lived like this for awhile, existing in half reality, until one day they chose to set their pickpocketing targets on a short man with close cropped gray hair. The plan was perfect, sorbet bumped into the man and gelato passed by to grab his wallet, and suddenly they were the size of mere ants. In an instant, they were returned to size, left to wonder if it was real or just a hallucination from long term drug use. But they didn’t run. Formaggio introduced himself, with a loose handshake and a pause to spit out some tobacco, and promptly invited them to a “party”. Although, Formaggio was honest in his promise, this party did have drugs.

Cheese boys turn!! Seriously who am I forgetting??? Illuso my mirror man! Am I forgetting someone else too?? Idk. But shut up Kel it’s cheese boys turn.

So. Formaggio. Probably the most chill childhood. Lower middle class, pretty average, but he was quite gifted with sports. Soccer was his main, and also a fantastic competitive swimmer. (Okay I have a separate hc that Bruno is really good at soccer so hol horse up a moment so I can imagine those 2 playing soccer together in friendly competition. In my lil au where Bruno is in la squadra because I say BruPro exes rights please and thanks.) but anyway, he got really good at soccer and was offered a scholarship to play at a fancy pants private high school when he was 14. Of course his parents made him go, this has been the family’s dream for years, and formaggio’s as well. So high school is amazing, he’s starting to attract attention from universities even tho he’s barely in grade 11 by this point. And it’s all really amazing until he realizes. This isn’t what he wants. And it’s just that. He doesn’t want to play soccer anymore, he doesn’t want to potentially be famous. He just wants to be a kid. So he leaves school, he leaves home, he wants to start over. And he wanders into a diner and sees this small group of weirdly dressed men. At this point, it’s rizzo, pro, Pesci, and ghia. And he’s staring at them because they’re dressed like circus clowns but their aura is so murderous. And then the one who looks like a giant pineapple starts staring back. Pesci gets up and walks over to Formaggio. “I know you! You’re that amazing kid soccer player!!” And he just goes on and on about shit he read in the news (70% of it was false) until pro comes over and yanks his idiot brother away. Pro starts asking Formaggio questions, thinking he could be a good target. Stupid little rich kid. But to prosciuttos surpise, Formaggio is just a down to earth kid with no more money to his name than he needs to pay for this meal. Prosciutto takes him home after that. He doesn’t really offer any explanation.

(The rambling at the beginning of this paragraph actually happened lol so I paused for like 4 hrs oops)

Alright we are back. Had to leave to go to therapy and then scream at my mother and cry to my boyfriend but we are ready to go! Illuso and I really hope he’s the last one and I’m not forgetting one. Illuso was raised in an orphanage from infancy. No idea who his parents could even be. Fun fact: one of the nuns at the orphanage (cuz it’s an orphanage in Italy in 1980, they’re catholic.) nicknamed him Illuso because he was always pointing at things that weren’t there. As a tiny baby and a child, he would always be looking at things no one else can see (yes illuso is a natural stand user fight me). The nuns called him illuso as an insult, hoping to shame him into stopping. He never did. When he outgrew the orphanage, he decided to join the priesthood. He was 19, a priest in training, when the mafia came to the orphanage. They were collecting, and illuso knew they didn’t have the money this month. He tried to talk the mobsters down, but that went about as well as planned. 4 bullets to the chest, 3 open heart surgeries, and half a dozen resuscitations later, Illuso was released from the hospital. The orphanage had been shut down, and no one knew what had happened to the children or the nuns. With no where to go, illuso knew of one place that could use talents like his. The talents of steadily stealing money from the starving children of the church for a decade. It was during polpos test that illuso’s stand manifested. Not due to the arrow, but to protect its user from the other stand. Illuso was able to avoid Black Sabbath by hiding in his newfound mirror world until it was time to return the lighter to polpo (kinda cowardly but whatever.) he was assigned to risottos group by chance and was the last to join excluding Melone. But they loved him as if they had found him themselves.

[kinkyacademia]

Could I request a scenario or even headcanons (whichever is easier) with Overhaul of how he would be with fem s/o and she just so happens to have a erasure-like quirk.... (I’m sorry it’s so vague I can elaborate if necessary) thank you so much!

So the thing is it is 3:30AM and my dog is alseep next to me, hands not working, I want to write sex.Okay I ended up rewriting and finishing the request, but the fact that my intro was so dumb still makes me laugh XD

-Mod Pasta🍜🍝

💊You had met Overhaul when he was just starting the Shie Hassaikai, you being fresh out of a mediocre Hero Course and still struggling to find your place in the world.You were always told that hero life suited you, but that it would be hard to find work because of your quirk. Why did it have to be hard? Why were everyone’s compliments so backhanded? You wanted to do good, but it felt like the government didn’t care.

💊He pulled you out of that mess and depression, telling you that you were incredible, your quirk was a blessing, wrapping his arm around you without flinching. Without flinching. One of the first things he said to you was, “You’re clean, you may have a quirk, but it’s clean.”

💊That was about a year ago. Overhaul sometimes asked for you assistance with Eri’s “temper tantrums,” Or to teach certain members a lesson, or just to make himself feel temporarily clean. The more skin-to-skin contact he had with you, the better his mood would get that day. There were many parts to his business that you opposed, especially the use of Eri, but you didn’t want to be useless and deny him your service. This wasn’t the easy route you had to remind yourself. You were helping.

💊More contact meant less clothes, and despite his adverseness to germs, the closest he could get to you was sex. He was infatuated with you, and for the first time in his life, he opened his being to someone. It was all on his own terms, of course, but you were more than happy to oblige. You were helping a man achieve his dreams after all, and what was more desirable that a driven person?

💊You had to admit that Kurono throwing you at Chisaki like a happy pill was a bit annoying, but you also felt important. You were this important to one person, especially a very important man - this was what you wanted. You wanted to help others, and this did the job just fine despite the obvious drawbacks. Overhaul made it very clear that you could return to the hero world whenever you wanted, but reminded you of what would happen: You would be shunned for leaving for so long, you would never find work, you would fall into a pit of despair and never be recognized.

💊Technically you only needed to touch someone once to cancel their quirk for a couple minutes, but Overhaul obviously enjoyed your continued use.

On one particular bad day, you were drinking tea in the backyard when you heard footsteps approaching, blocking the sun from reaching you and casting a shadow, “Yes?”

“You’re needed (L/N),” It was short and sweet, but you knew what Kurono meant. His voice was strained, and you pushed yourself up slowly, giving him an apologetic smile.

“Is he okay?”

“Not exactly,” He nodded to the back door, and you felt a prick of annoyance at his rushed tone, but proceeded inside nonetheless. You went down a staircase, down a few winding stone halls, then found Kendo Rappa standing outside of Overhaul’s room, arms crossed in front of him as he pouted, glaring at you. You looked away, hoping he wouldn’t confront you.

As you passed him, reaching for the doorknob, he spoke up with a crackly tone, indicating how his conversation with the masked man went, “You’re going in? He’s pretty pissed,” he chuckled, reaching for your hand.

“That’s okay,” You giggled, waving him off, “Thank you though.”

“I warned yah,” He shrugged, looking up and down the hall before leaving you, throwing one last sentence over his shoulder, “We should fight!”

“Right,” You muttered, rolling your eyes. It was like his departing phrase: fight me, give me a battle, see you next round, etc. You pushed his warnings out of your head, taking a deep breath before opening knocking with one hand and pushing the door open, “It’s me.”

“Close the door,” Just as you were got inside, you were ordered around. You had to swallowed your pride and not state that that was exactly what you were going to do. Usually he praised the ground you walked on, but Kurono and Rappa were right: this was a particularly bad day, likely because of Rappa.

You sat in front of him while he looked over a set of papers, “Did Chronostasis send you?” He hummed, turning a page. You nodded.

“Yeah,” Your eyes traveled to a few books that had fallen from his shelves. The fact that they weren’t picked up made your nerves stand on end. The clean-freak himself wasn’t cleaning.

You got up to clean the books up, and he didn’t stop you. Once everything looked orderly, you turned to him, approaching him now from behind his desk, “I guess today was hard?”

“Correct,” He mumbled, getting to the last page, “I would rather my subordinates do what I ask of them without question, but some need motivation,” He clicked his tongue, rubbing his fingers over the paper delicately. It looked like he was trying not to crinkle it, but his anger caused the edge of the paper to turn in. He stared at it for a second, then slowly placed the paper on top of the stack, shaking his head with a groan of disappointment.

You smiled, gingerly placing a hand on his shoulder to provide the much-needed relief he craved, “They’ve fought before, but last time their reasons were jaded. You provide a clear goal: Maybe that’s what’s important to them,” You gave him an experimental squeeze. He didn’t respond, his eyes closed as he thought. A moment passed, and you began to feel an awkward silence brewing. Suddenly he pushed his chair back, reaching up to grab your wrist and pull you down to eye level.

“I’m their boss. You,” His eyes travelled to your chest, then back up, causing your cheeks to flare, “You’re too perfect to give trash like them excuses.”

“Oh,” You whispered, heart pounding. Your surroundings became sharp and in better focus as adrenaline surged through your veins, “Thank you.”

He let go of your hand, and you crouched in front of him awkwardly, awaiting his word. You found trouble thinking for yourself these days: it was just so easy to let Overhaul make the decisions. He pulled his gloves off, putting them in his jacket pocket before removing the coat and placing it on the back of his chair. You knew what was coming, and it excited you to no end.

“You should be ready,” He started working on his mask, and you eyed the awkward man before reaching under your skirt and hooking a finger around your shorts and panties. You stepped out of them, looking around. You ended up placing them on the ground next to his seat, turning back to him. He was staring at your chest, and you instinctively went to cover your breasts.

“Over-”

“Leave the skirt,” He continued to stare with hungry eyes, “I enjoy all of you, (F/N),” He raised a hand up to form the come here sign. You obliged, and he reached a hand out to your legs. You too the cue to climb onto his seat, straddling him and sitting on his knees, “You’re a pure form of human.”

“I think you underestimate your own worth, you’re just as amazing as me,” Your hand came up to his neck, resting against it as your quirk took hold once again. His mask was on the desk now, but a black one underneath had taken its place. You rarely got to kiss him, but he seemed to enjoy the contact of the kiss rather than the emotions behind it. He was better at expressing those through speech and touch.

“We’re powerful together,” He settled that, “But that’s not important now… Tell me about your day,” You chuckled- he was quite monotonous when it came to casual talk. His bare hands went to your shirt, pulling it off of you. He wasn’t one to hold back - the moment your shirt was off, he went to your bra. Skilled with his hands, it dropped immediately and they went to your breasts.

“It was-” You had to pause when he took your shirt off, “Good! I went and made lunch for Eri. She’s so big now,” You hummed with content, then was cut off by his roaming fingers, “You’re cold,” You whispered with a laugh. He stopped for a second, then nodded slowly.

“You’re warm,” He stroked your breasts downward, his fingers reaching your skirt. His eyes flickered up to your own, “You know I enjoy watching you.”“Yeah,” Excitement bubbled within you as you looked down at his lap. Your boyfriend could even be labelled as nice after sex, having been as intimate as possible with the girl who gave him the relief of being “clean.”

He started to seem impatient, leaning closed to you. Your stomach did flips, and you reached for his belt buckle, undoing it and pulling it off. You placed it on the ground, then undid the button and zipper to his pants, pulling them down a bit. All that was left was his boxers, and this was where the leader-type man would usually take the reigns. You were given them for today, however, and you had some feeling of pride in it

You pulled the hem down, enough for his semi-erection to spring loose. You gently gripped it in your hand, enjoying the veins and texture. The rest of his body had a smooth, flawless feeling, likely due to using his quirk on himself. He hadn’t done the same to his member, and the contrast was a strange, but interesting aspect of the man. His breath caught for a second, and your eyes flickered to his own. They seemed expectant. You gave an experimental pump, and he took a short, sharp breath. You felt your own core aching - you had never been with someone other than Overhaul. The Hero Course strictly forbid fraternizing, and everyone was too good two shoes to try anything serious. Overhaul’s style, the way he ordered you, the way he pleased you - it was all you knew, and you knew you liked it a lot. He always left you satisfied, if not yearning for another round.

You raised your hand to your mouth, licking it before going back down to lubricate him. You bit your bottom lip, seeing he was fully erect and ready. Your heavy-lidded eyes met his own, and his hands made their way under your thighs, lifting you up slightly, “I’m growing impatient.”

“Sorry,” You chuckled, pushing yourself up on the arms of his chair and scooting forward. You reached down and position himself at your wet entrance, already remembering the intoxicating pleasure. Overhaul was a scientist after all, and he took data in so he could improve results. Sex never got old with him. You slowly sat, and your sigh of pleasure mixed with his sigh of relief.

“You’re just… perfect, you know?” You smiled, taking a few seconds to adjust to how deep he already was inside of you. His hands returned to your ass under the skirt, his hands still cold against you.

“I am clean, never perfect,” He shook his head, and you pushed yourself up a bit, then sat back down on his member. You gasped at the deep feeling, rolling your hips forward to relish it. You could see his jaw clenched and you reached up to rub it.

“You’re perfect for me, I never want anyone else,” Your hero side showed a bit, and you raised yourself up again, starting to find a rhythm. You weren’t used to riding, but you learned quickly. You were finding out what felt deeper and oh god what made your head spin.

“I feel the same to you,” He squeezed your ass, and you yelped, then laughed, a small sigh of content escaping your lips. You were starting to like pleasing yourself on him, and you knew he liked being inside of you, so it was a win-win. As you used his shoulders to support your bouncing, you got a surprise when his hips instinctively bucked up into you. He swallowed hard, and you realized he was holding back for your own sake.

“Ah… Fuck…” You moaned, rolling your hips into his own. His hands shifted to wrap around your waist, using his small thrusts to get even deep than your bouncing. With the joint effort, both of you felt pleased. Even Overhaul was groaning, his teeth grit. Your head fell next to his own on the side of the chair, your breathing heavy. You knew you were close, and he was as well.

“Overhaul!” You both were startled by a loud shout from behind his door. You pulled back to look at him with dazed confusion, and when there was a bang on the door, he leaned over and grabbed your shirt off the ground. You pulled it on, but the moment you did, a very angry Rappa entered the room. Your blood ran cold - Overhaul was still inside of you!

Overhaul was much better at handling the situation than you. He whispered for you to grab your phone and just play on it until this was over. After a lengthy conversation about the politics of the Yakuza and where Rappa stood, he finally calmed down. You had to use all your might not to react, looking away from Rappa and hiding yourself in the crook of Overhaul’s neck, looking at your phone mindlessly.

Rappa finally left, slamming the door as he did so. Once he was gone, you both waited a moment before you pulled back with a laugh, placing your phone on his desk and then turning to him, “That was close, good thing I kept my skirt-” When you saw how intense his eyes were, you had to do a double take. He’d really been holding back all of those emotions this whole time?

His hands slid under your ass, and he suddenly stood up, taking a step forward to place you across his desk, “It certainly was (F/N).”

“D-Do we get t-to finish?” You tried to play dumb, but your heart was racing, face flushed as his hands slid to your thighs. He grabbed them and pulled back, then snapped his hips forward. You were yet again at his mercy.

“Wait, I thought I was-” You began to whine, then was interrupted by another snap of his hips. A small gasp escaped your lips.

“I still own over you,” He reminded you, “I own over your perfect existence,” He immediately started at a fast pace, already riled up from being edged before. You had to grab the edge of the desk, back arching. You choked back a cry of surprise and pleasure.

“Ah-yes!” You exclaimed, legs wrapping around his back and keeping him close. You were both still aroused and stimulated from before, so you felt your orgasm coming quicker than expected.

“You’re perfect in every way,” He was barely panting, while your breathing was hot and heavy. You whined, gasped, and moaned, pitiful at best against his expertise when it came to your body. Each of his thrusts hit you in a pleasurable place, and you couldn’t hold back for long. Riding him was nothing like this - he was the master of pleasuring you.

“Fuck…” You quickly reached your climax, and once you did, you cried out and pulled him close to you, toes curling and muscles taught. He stayed buried inside of you, then once you were finished, you felt his own orgasm fill you with warmth. His level of control over his own body still surprised you.

After calming down and him pulling out of you, he set to cleaning up the mess with wipes and his quirk. You got your clothes back on, making sure he was better now. His mood was vastly improved, “Should I stay?”

“You may if you would like to,” He shrugged, wiping his chair down. You happily did so, sitting on his chair once he had moved onto the desk. He gave you a temporary glare, and you just giggled childishly. He rolled his eyes.

“I’ve got to say, that was a pretty silly situation.”

“It was,” He agreed, but you still wanted a laugh from him. You dramatically pouted.

“Aw, but you never laugh! Everybody laughs,” You whined, kicking your legs out.

“I’m not everyone,” He commented, then glanced at you once again, “I laugh. I laughed last night at dinner.”

“Chuckled,” You pointed at him, and he nodded slowly.

“That’s laughing,” He paused for a second, then nodded to himself as if to confirm his own belief. This left you laughing as well: he was just so odd.

[theothewitch]

New Year’s Tarot Spread

let me try to use my intuition to read tarot before i even understand/ research what the cards mean. i’m analyzing the images like how i do in art school.

this spread is a new years tarot spread I’ll write my intuitions before I research the meanings then I will put the actual meanings into bullet points. I rephrased the 2020 to 2021 in this spread.

ok.

overall i feel like it is going to be hard year, as in hard working year. lot’s of labour and i would need to remind myself to rest when I can.

1) What was an important lesson learned in 2020 which will be vital to this year's progress?

(King of Swords)

“ That I was really hard headed last year. and that I did take my place on the throne, like the king in the picture, by being valedictorian, leader of my collective. I (the king) look really stern and wilful that I can take anything that come’s my way.

I think i need to bring this perseverance & leadership through to this year, even though with 2020 it felt like it was a shit year and i didn’t do much after graduation because I am jobless fresh out of school into a pandemic. but actually I really did put the work into projects and my passions and hobbies, although I did not get paid much for it. Continue the professional work and standards you set yourself to have and your group as well.” 

  > Court Card, Vision, Truth, Power, Command, Authority, Law, Intelligence, reason, authority, discipline, integrity, morality, serious, high standards, strict 

  > The King of Swords radiates intellectual power, clear thinking, truth, and authority. He understands that power holds great responsibility. 

  > Because he rules over the suit of swords, he has a special connection to rules, laws, and diplomacy, which are systems of logical thought applied and manifest on earth.

2) What will be my biggest challenge to overcome this year?

( Seven of Wands )

“ It seems like this dude, that actually looks like me because we have the same hair is stressed/ working hard to stick wands into the ground. I think one challenge would be sticking my foundations down to get me going for the rest of the year, to survive, to fulfil my soul and passions, creating, earning money, jobs? priorities need to be set and pushed through. decisions to be placed down and grab the opportunities while you can. I know you are careful and want the best opportunities for yourself. But set a dateline, and stop being so indecisive!”

  > Faith, Standing your ground, protectiveness, standing up for yourself, defending yourself, protecting territory 

  > the man is wearing not matching shoes. This is linked to the symbolism of being on uneven ground or not having a stable footing in life.

  > The overall meaning of the Seven of Wands is to hold your ground, no matter what is challenging your position.

  > setting boundaries in relationship, fighting for romance / fighting off competition, defending your position, facing challenge /  protecting your financial stability, long term success

3) What energy can I work on transmuting to better serve me through 2021? 

( Ace of Wands )

“ It’s a glowing gift from the universe is what it looks like. I think I should work on actively finding inspiration, to fuel me and motivate me to create art. I think I should use my art to actively serve the world. Maybe create a product. Things in the act of giving. I need to be more giving. Resting. Motivation. Creating. Giving. to have vines sprouting out and growing. Stop pitying yourself and the hardships you’ve been through in 2020 and put your energy back into the world, give and interact with more people in your life, in peace, and kindness and give these things, time, to people.”

  > Creation, invention, beginnings, will power, desire, inspiration, creative spark, new initiative, new passion, enthusiasm, energy 

  > The Ace of Wands calls out to you to follow your instincts. If you think that the project that you've been dreaming of is a good idea, and then just go ahead and do it. 

4) What card represents where I'm currently at, moving into 2021?

(Reverse The Devil)

“ I understand the devil card is about balance. But since it is in reverse. I’ve been imbalanced. I’ve been entrapping myself in short-term pleasures, binge shopping when i’m broke, entrapped in my thoughts of others that are of myself, with the hurts and the pains of broken relationships, this past year needs to go. I need to remove the chain that’s already loose, lift it up and over. I’m moving into 2021 in new but low energy. having to renew myself and my direction. This is me wanting more other than the painful physicality of the world. Going into spirituality to help restore balance and realign my life.”

  > independence, freedom, revelation, release, reclaiming power, reclaiming control

  > The upside down meaning of the Devil card can be the moment when an individual becomes self-aware and breaks all of the chains that come with addiction and poor habits. It might be because they are tired of running in circles and are in need of change.  ( I must say this is where I am now, because even yesterday the devil card came out to a question of what was influencing me in the past )

  > But one thing is usually clear – breaking off these chains, especially those of addiction is never easy.

  > feeling more in control of love life, ending co-dependency/  more accountability in career path, feeling empowered at job/   breaking bad financial habits, feeling independent financially

( girlll, i might’ve interpreted it the opposite way haha )

5) What energy can I harness to get to where I want to be? 

( Nine of Pentacles )

“ Bright, warm, yellow energy. In nature. I need to go into nature more. Interact with lovely animals, eat grapes haha. Go into life and your decisions clear and positive. This serve a purpose for you even if it is money, money is to survive and to support yourself. The pentacles could mean financials, and that going into employment as I should, money won’t take over your life. There is the whole world outside of the office and indulge in mother nature and creations for a bright fulfilled life.”

  > rewarded efforts, success, achievement, independence, leisure, material security, self-sufficiency, prudence, safety, success, accomplishment, certitude, discernment 

  > The Nine of Pentacles conveys not only joy, but also the feeling of security and freedom that material wealth can bring.

  > There is something that is missing here - the element of her community and relationships. The gifts of the suits are meant to be shared, and yet this woman is so far from home.

 > Diplomacy and grace will lead to the desired outcome. 

6) What will be the main, overarching theme of 2021?

 (Four of Swords)

“ The lady seems like a warrior, resting and praying. with a golden sword by her side and other three hanging. I think that’s it, I’ll be a like a warrior when I work, and rest as hard as I do. Know that I am honing and using a skill I have in any and everything I’m doing, even if my other skills and talents are put to rest. ( like if i were to work an admin job, my artist lifestyle will still be here and still be part of me ) I think. It should be all in one sentence. Work hard and rest harder. Rest is where all my energy comes from. Charge your body. Charge your soul, keep in touch with your spirituality practices and you’ll be fine.” 

  > Rest, relaxation, peace, sanctuary, recuperation, self-protection, rejuvenation

  > In order to continue and re-emerge in your daily life, you must take the time now to take a breather. 

  > The Four of Swords is a moment of rest. Whether this is from a choice to withdraw, or whether it is from pure exhaustion, it is not clear.

  > The Four of Swords indicates it is time to gather new strength and prepare to face a new challenge. You have faced crisis after crisis, and it is wearing you out. 

  > withdrawing from love life, alone time, taking a break

taking a vacation, mental health day, rest, self-care

anxiety about finances, avoid overthinking about money