#but this was fun to write

[sweettjrose]

Quick question for you cuz you seem to know very well the little guy

Do you think Mickey has any bad sides? Bad qualities/Habits

Ooh! I was hoping someone would ask this question. It was sitting in my mind for a while. I love sharing my thoughts on this little guy.

I do think it is important to remember that when it comes to characters like Mickey it can be challenging to ascribe specific traits to him since there are so many interpretations with differing personalities. Mickey in the black and white shorts is different from Mickey in the Gottfredson comics who is different from Mickey in the Paul Rudish shorts and etc. So some traits may fit better for some versions than others.

I don't know if I can say I am the Mickey expert. But I do think about him a lot and if I came up a list of what I think are bad habits or flaws that he has, based on how is generally portrayed and my own personal interpretation, I would say:

Stubborn - To start off, I feel like a common flaw for Mickey is his stubbornness. Once he sets his mind on a certain idea or situation, he has a hard time being convinced of anything else. It can be really difficult to change his mind, though not impossible. I don't think it comes from a place of seeing himself as better than anyone though, but rather from his desire to hold fast to what he believes in. And in some cases, it can have beneficial results. Such as when he is investigating some kind of mystery he tends to drop everything else, unable to change focus until he finally solves it. This usually gives him the push to solve problems most people give up on. But unfortunately, it tends to result in him ignoring the world around him which can be frustrating at times, especially for Minnie. Sometimes I think Mickey even uses these situations as an excuse to push aside things he doesn't want to do and focus on something he would much rather do.

Untamed Curiosity - I feel like this is actually an offshoot of his earlier personality. He was much more mischievous in his earlier appearances, but that was somewhat tamed over the years. However, I do think one element that has remained is this mouse's curiosity for the unknown. It seems like Mickey can't help himself but stick his nose into things he probably shouldn't. Whether it is listening to a conversation, checking a locked room, testing out a weird machine, or even following an odd feeling. I also feel like his stubbornness doesn't really help as it seems like once a curiosity is in his focus, he can't let it go. Mickey rarely likes to cause problems, but if his curiosity overtakes him, he usually ends up being a troublemaker. Sometimes this usually leads to him catching a crook. But other times it results in a big mess that he would have to clean up. I do think though that his mischievousness isn't entirely gone and does pop up every once in a while. Especially when trying to get out of things he finds boring or doesn't want to be in. And sometimes he just wants to be a prankster and have fun with his friends and family. Which is funny until things get out of hand.

Overthinks - Mickey is very intelligent and can come up with pretty clever plans when trying to solve problems. Unfortunately, this comes with the side effect of him overcomplicating even simple situations. This is usually why Goofy is such a vital friend for Mickey. Mickey tends to come up with complex solutions while Goofy tends to show the easier option Mickey tends to overlook. I think part of this does come from Mickey being afraid of being wrong and making mistakes, so he tries his best to be as thorough as he can be, which unfortunately can lead to more mistakes.

Lack of Self-Protection - One positive about Mickey is that he cares about others and would stand up to protect them. But unfortunately, this doesn't always extend to himself. He is not a doormat but tends to lean more "Turn the other Cheek" approach when he is the only one getting bullied (unless things go too far or if others get involved). To be fair, it is important to know when to pick your battles, but this tends to lead into other areas as I feel like he doesn't really share his problems and tends to keep personal issues to himself. I personally see him as the kind of guy you really have to pry to get him to talk about what he is feeling as he would much rather bottle it up to not cause any trouble. I also feel like he rarely is one to ask for help and tends to try and solve it all on his own, especially if he is worried that others may get hurt. The issue is, he doesn't seem to worry about whether he would get hurt.

Takes on Too Much - I also feel like this connects to another flaw as he tends to take on too much and constantly puts himself in risky situations. Whenever a life-threatening situation comes up that could help everyone but is extremely dangerous, he is usually the first in line to do it. It feels like Mickey doesn't even consider his own safety or limitations at all. Sometimes it feels like he is overconfident in his abilities and just believes that he will be okay, which works until it doesn't. It also doesn't help that Mickey has a hard time saying "No", so even if he didn't want to do something or knows he is not capable of doing it, he would probably still do it, not wanting to disappoint anyone. He rarely thinks of himself. And seldom considers what would be best for him. Usually, his friends are the ones to think about his safety and needs.

Need to be Perfect - Though I feel like part of the reason Mickey takes on so much is his need to be the hero. He feels like he has to be a perfect, selfless, and brave role model who does everything without a single complaint. I feel like he overexerts himself because he is afraid of what happens if he doesn't. He is afraid of not being needed or wanted. He is usually the underdog, a small mouse in a world with characters twice his size, and if he isn't constantly proving himself people will leave him behind. I also feel like he has a hard time admitting to mistakes (which connects to his stubbornness) because he feels like he can't make mistakes, or that would show that he isn't as capable as people think. I also think this explains why he has more of a heated rivalry with Mortimer. Mortimer somehow taps into his insecurities in the ways others don't. I feel like Mickey is kind of jealous of Mortimer because he tends to be taken seriously (at first) while Mickey usually needs to earn it. I also kind of wonder if he is worried that if he starts messing up, Minnie and the others will leave him for someone like Mortimer, so he feels like he can't mess up. Ever.

Lack of Self Worth - Unfortunately this means that he is very reliant on others for his self-worth. Luckily Mickey is really good at making friends. But he tends to rely on the existence of his friends for his worth. I can imagine that if for some reason they all stopped existing, I don't think he would even know what to do with himself. While he doesn't need everyone to like him. He does need at least one person to like him to help ground him or I can see him going into a deep depression. I feel like he would really struggle with being alone for too long unless there was some hope of being able to be with his loved ones soon.

But yeah these are the bad qualities that I feel like Mickey generally has. There are probably more, especially ones more specific to certain interpretations, but these are the ones I was able to come up with. As nice as Mickey is, he isn't perfect and his insecurities, overthinking, stubbornness, and curious nature tend to get him in trouble. But fortunately, he is also just as capable of getting out of trouble.

I would honestly love to see other people thoughts on this as well.

[altair214]

If Dream of the Endless had access to the Am I The Asshole subreddit "Am I the Asshole for condemning my lover to Hell?"

"I was informed quite recently by a friend that this is a good place to receive unbiased judgement on past actions of mine that were not well received by people. As there are few beings I trust to ask for unbiased, well-meaning judgement from, I turn to the internet.

After a recent excursion to Hell, my raven saw fit to inform me that condemning a past lover to Hell might be seen, in my raven's words "as a dick move." My sibling, who has seen fit to give a mortal the tools to imprison me for a century and has made an attempt on my life, has criticized me before for the decision I made to condemn my lover to Hell.

Our story took place 10,000 years ago. She was a mortal queen and very beautiful. She was desired by many, but she refused them. One day she laid eyes on me, not knowing who or what I am, and decided that I would be her lover. She pursued me, and eventually found me in my realm. We began to get to know each other. She truly loved me at first. And I loved her. No one had ever loved me enough to go to the lengths she had to find me. I offered to make her the queen of my realm. But when she truly began to understand what it is that I am, and that I would not abandon my realm to be her lover, she became fearful. I did not want her to leave me, so when she ran, I ran after her. She hurt herself in the hopes that it would make me disgusted with her and leave. When she saw that she did not scare me away, she allowed me to heal her. We made love all through the night.

In the morning, her city was destroyed, for the First Circle had decreed that one of the Endless cannot love a mortal. We had both known that. She had tried to put an end to our relationship before it was too late, but in the end our desire for each other had overcome all else.

In her despair, she killed herself. I was distraught, I would have made her my queen. But she chose death over me. She chose to abandon me, she chose to abandon hope, for death. Still, I would have forgiven her for that transgression. I would still have her as my queen. I would still love her.

But she rejected me. Even though she loved me, she would rather die than be with me. So I told her that I would offer my love a final time, but if she once again would choose death over me, that I would condemn her soul to Hell.

She did not answer at first. She said that we were never meant to be together and that darker things would come to be if we tried to be together. I asked her once again as she was making the journey to the Sunless Lands. She told me to leave her. I asked her for the last time. She refused me and I condemned her to Hell.

She sought me out, only to reject me. To reject dreams by killing herself. She loved me and yet would choose to die rather than be with me. She would choose Hell rather than be with me even though she sought me first. I felt that my actions were justified. She was not moved by the pain that her actions caused me. What could I have done except punish her for her callousness?

I felt I was completely justified in my actions until very recently when I saw her in Hell. I had not thought of her in a long time, though I still loved her. But my recent experience of being imprisoned for a century had changed me in ways that I have only recently admitted to myself. For the first time I wondered if perhaps my original judgement to condemn her to Hell was made in error. So I am turning to here at the recommendation of a friend. Am I the Asshole?"

[sanityfails]

Generation Loss is so fucking important and I really hope people understand it’s message and what it’s trying to convey because holy shit is it important.

The whole thing is just criticizing content creation and being put under the public eye. Once you become a public image you are expected to be ok with being controlled and examined and prodded at because once you become a public image, you belong to the public. GlRanboo had no choice in any of what he did. Most of the time that he was being controlled, he was being controlled by Showfall Media or the audience. And any time he did have control, he didn’t have many options in what he did either way. He was trapped. He had nowhere to go and nothing to do because he was doomed from the beginning.

Once you put yourself out there, it’s almost impossible to keep your private life separate from your online presence. If you try hard enough you can get past that, but if you slip up once, the media gets ahold of you and never lets go. Just like how Showfall got ahold of Charlie. Charlie died over and over and over, all so that Showfall could use him for their entertainment services.

You don’t get to set your own pace, you don’t get to choose who views you, you don’t get to prepare for whatever the media throws at you. You have no idea what you are doing and how you are doing it and you are expected to be ok with that. Or you’re expected to do everything perfectly/however everyone else wants you to do it. Ultimately you end up being controlled. And theres no backing out of it.

You forget who you are, you become someone you don’t recognize or someone you don’t want to be. GlRanboo slowly became apathetic to what was going on around him. They slowly stopped caring and became a shell of who they were until they finally broke free. But even breaking free doesn’t give you freedom because you’re stuck with the guilt of what you did or who you became. You had no choice, and yet you still blame yourself.

Behind it all you’re the same person, but you forget how to be you and how to be ok with being you. GlRanboo begged us to just kill them because they didn’t want to repeat the cycle, and they couldn’t live with what they had done. They couldn’t just go back to normal no matter the outcome. They would rather die than live with who they are now.

I’m honestly just rambling and I just woke up so this probably doesn’t make any fucking sense lmao, but it’s crazy to think about. All the details and implications and references got my brain going and I just needed to word vomit lol

[ineffable-baker-street]

Merlin had been gone for five days. Arthur had been in bed for those five days. Well, technically he got out of bed on the first day, but then he'd tried to dress and bathe himself, had had to walk around the castle trying to find the kitchen to get food, and decided it wasn't worth it and climbed back into bed.

The crown prince had not spoken in Merlin's absence, and though he hadn't yet said a word, the kingdom, and certainly the royal household knew why. His servant was gone. Though servant was a word used lightly by most, just Merlin's formal title really. Anyone who had seen them together knew he was far, far more than that. Not just Arthur's friend, nor even his simple lover, but his soulmate. More than a soulmate in fact, Merlin was truly Arthur's other half. The two walked in step beside each other, them and only them, lost in the world they'd built to surround each other, a coin that flipped through the air, travelling from place to place, both sides always next to each other, never once straying apart.

But now, one side was gone, and a coin is not a coin with one side missing. A coin with one side is... well it's nothing. An unformed mass, doomed to being cast aside, with no use and not worth a second glance. And that was now Arthur. He had no purpose without Merlin, no future, no destiny. There was nothing more for him to achieve in this world, for Merlin was his destiny. From the day they had met, Arthur had known his life served no purpose without Merlin by his side. No matter what plan was formed, what decision was made, what path he walked, Merlin was beside him through it all, from today, and into the beautiful abyss of forever.

And so Arthur knew where he was next headed, where he had to go to find the other side of the coin. In the dead of night, as the sixth day was arriving, Arthur mounted his horse, wearing the cloak Merlin had once lent him, drawing it around him as tightly as possible, holding nothing but the Horn of Cathbhadh. It was all he needed, for it would take him home. He rode out of the gates, not sparing a glance back, his heart becoming more desperate the closer he got, his eyes fixated ahead of him, until the Great Stones of Nemeton finally come into view. And peace flooded him, over his skin and through his blood, knowing he was almost there, that he had very nearly escaped this grief, a torture he had never had to endure before. Arthur lifted the horn to his lips and blew, every second spent in this world without Merlin unbearable.

Once, all he had cared for was Camelot, and he had thought nothing would come between his duty and loyalty to the kingdom. How unbelievably wrong he had been, proven the day a young boy stood up to him, in a way no one ever had. And how he had been proven wrong every day since then, as he became intwined with Merlin, with every aspect of him, with his very being, until they were one, and finally he was whole. Every moment with Merlin came back to him, and he dropped to his knees an sobbed in agony. Because it hadn't worked. He was still here, and Merlin was still gone. And he reached the end of his memories, to the very last one where Merlin held his face and whispered,

"I love you."

But it was louder, louder than everything else, and then he felt arms around him, pulling him up and drawing him in, and finally, as the whiteness grew brighter and brighter, and the world behind him faded, finally Arthur was home.

[promptlywritingideas]

Confession prompts with person A being a vampire, and person b, a mortal? Really hyper fixated on a ship right now, love your work!

"Well, how do you think this is going to work out?"

"I'm not afraid of you."

"I just wish I could help you. You're going to be so lonely when I'm gone.

"Why won't you let me turn you?"

"I'm sure you've known hundreds like me-" "I've never known anyone quite like you."

"Why are you impressed? You should be terrified."

"The vampire jokes were funny at first, but you're running out of material."

"I've got you, darling. And if anyone tries to hurt you, I will rip them to shreds."

"You were dying. I did what I had to do."

"You're not a monster."

[willowedhepatica]

The night is unsettlingly quiet as Ava sneaks around a corner of a building, her hand hovering over the gun in the holster strapped to her waist.

The air is humid and the brick has been painted a darker shade of red from the trickling of rain that has been steadily falling for over an hour. Ava wipes at her cheek, walks down the alleyway in a steady rhyme and is thankful for the small overhang that momentarily blocks her from the sky. Boss told her the gang would meet up here for 'important transaction of stolen goods' which sounded pretty fucking boring if you asked her. But she was meant to stop it so that was a perfect opportunity to... liven things up a little.

"–this is everything we asked for?"

It's sudden and Ava presses herself against the wall, takes a deep breath before tilting forward to assess the situation.

Four people. Three bigger men that are easily towering over the shorter woman that holds the bag with white knuckles, curly black hair and dressed in some sort of black intricate clothing that was definitely made to block a blow.

"You're free to check if you're doubting us. But we always do our work to perfection, you know that."

It surprises her how young she sounded. Puts a sour taste in her mouth and makes her hope the girl hadn't been forced into this life like she had. That it hadn't been thrust upon her like a duty she had to carry out in order to survive.

Ava scoffed despite herself.

It didn't matter.

It could not matter.

Not if she wanted to be successful in this mission.

There was a stretched moment of silence before the man in the front gestured to the other to move forward. Ava takes her gun out of its holster and pulls the magazine back until it clicks.

Show time.

Just as she lifts the gun to shoot, her thumb ghosting over the trigger, someone bends her arm up, makes her slam into the wall behind her.

"Shi–" A cold hand comes up to press against her mouth, one finger digging into her cheek as if in a warning.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

The voice is controlled and low enough to go unheard from a short distance. She has to look up without moving her head to see who trapped her. They lock eyes and Ava can't help but stare, her breath hitching. Her hair was pulled up in a tight bun, exposing a scar that went by her left ear and down to her cheekbone. Her eyes were a deep brown and she realises quickly that she was studying her, looking her over with a clenched jaw.

Ava strains against the grip, against the elbow that digs into her collarbone to hold her in place. The woman's expression doesn't shift but there's a sudden sharp pain by the side of her waist and she realises quickly she's holding a knife against her. One she presses forward in warning until Ava stops squirming.

"I will remove my hand and you will answer my questions, nothing else. Understood?"

And oh, this woman has no idea who she was up against.

Ava nods, repeating the mantra her boss had taught her over and over in her head to convince herself to play along in this little game. You're not allowed to reveal your identity if not strictly necessary.

The hand is removed. Eyes not leaving hers, as if she thought Ava would disappear if she turned away for just a second. Which wasn't entirely wrong...

"Who are you?"

So serious.

Ava licks her lips, tilts her head to the side in a teasing manner. "Really? Your special crew hasn't figured me out yet? And here I've heard you're one of the best."

Her eyes flicks to the side, to where the voices are getting louder. Ava can't see what's happening but by the sounds of it they are leaving pretty fucking soon. She really needed to get this done with. When the woman turns back to her, her voice is strained, brows furrowed in thought as she looks her over again. Likes she knows she's missing something but can't figure out what. "You know about us?"

"The OCS? Yeah. And for what I have gathered you must be one of the main ones... Shannon maybe," There's a clear flicker of recognition when she says it but it's gone as soon as it appears. Ava hadn't been paying that close attention when Jillian rattled off their names and she curses herself now when she actually needs it. Jillian knew Ava had bad memory so she had linked their names with different attributes. How did it go... the leader, the hacker, the crack shot, and the–It dawns on her and she can't help but snort. "Oh I know who you are. Beatrice, isn't it?"

Ava knows she's right as soon as she says it. Can see it in her face. Can feel it in how the knife against her hip loosen ever so slightly. She takes the moment to slide her hand down and grab her wrist, jank the knife to the left. But Beatrice reacts quicker than expected and instead of bringing the knife completely to the side it goes forward. Slices through the fabric of her shirt and into her skin before she pushes Beatrice away.

You're not allowed to reveal your identity if not strictly necessary...

It doesn't take long for Beatrice to regain her balance and she says something Ava misses, can't quite grasp as her hand reflexively comes down to her waist. Her hands come off red. Warm and sticky and she knows if she doesn't do something soon this was going to end pretty fucking bad.

You're not allowed to reveal your identity if not strictly necessary. Not allowed–

"Bea! Everything okay?"

It's the girl. The one who had been trading with the men. Shit. Jillian was not going to be happy.

"It's under control." Beatrice answers bluntly, not leaving Ava out of her sight.

The other glances at her, takes what looks like a gun out from her belt. "Do you want me to–"

"No. We will take her with us."

Ava groans, gritting her teeth at the pain. "I'm right here you know." Beatrice begins to move forward and Ava automatically takes a step back, glances at the wall behind her.

You're not allowed to– fuck it.

She takes a deep shaky breath, feels how the energy begins to flow through her body as the halo activates. It warmths her back and mends her wound back together.

Beatrice stops. Just for a moment, her eyes widening just a fraction. Perhaps she only noticed because she admittedly wanted to know how Beatrice would react to it. How she was going to respond. "You're the halo bearer."

Ava gives her a cheeky smile. Tracks the energy that is slowly growing stronger as she backs up against the wall. "The one and only..." She bows, just for show, before phasing through the wall, closing her eyes and wishing to whatever god that's out there that it isn't solid or she won't fall into a freezer or some shit, (it has happened before).

But no, her back hits the cold cement floor and when she looks around she recognizes quickly that she's in a church. If the large painting of angels reaching out towards a depiction of god on the ceiling were any indication of it.

What was it Jillian said now again? Don't mess around during this mission or you'll likely get yourself fucking shot. Well, something along that style.

A shadow indicates someone's approach before she could hear it. It's a woman she hasn't seen before, but it's clear she runs with the same crew by the look of her clothes. "I have to admit, that's pretty cool. But not very clever."

Ava stands up, quicker than may have been advised after you've been stabbed in the chest, taking a stumbling step backward before reaching for the knife that was strapped to her belt. "Oh yeah? I can show you clever."

The woman doesn't look phased at all and turns to the girl Ava saw trading with the guys earlier. "Camila."

Ava notices the dart right as it is supposed to hit her, dodging it before charging forward and tackling the other woman to the ground. Ava's pinning her, one knee against her stomach and her knife against her throat. She tries to reach for the gun in her belt but Ava blocks it with her boot, thinking just for a moment that she's winning.

That is to say, before there's a hiss right by her ear, a sharp sting blooming in her throat that makes her body go numb. Shit. She jolts up, feeling herself stumble into the wall as the fog slowly takes over. Shit, shit, shit.

When she blinkes, looking at who to blame for the fucking tranquilliser she finds Beatrice looking back at her, arms crossed as if she's just waiting for it to kick in. Ava wills the halo to work, to shake the sedative off just so she can show her it isn't that easy. But they must have a ridiculous high dose on these things because her head only grows foggier and the fear kicks in as she feels herself losing all sensation in her body.

"Don't try to fight it."

Ava's knees buckle and she's clinging to the wall in an attempt to hold herself up but it just isn't working. The last thing she hears before going completely out is Camila. "That took longer than expected."

She's so fucked.

[rosebloodcat]

The Things We Thought We Knew (But We Really Didn’t)

Wrote this on a lark after reading some stories that floated the au idea that (for one reason or another) Blinky and Jim were related. Either from him being James Lake Sr but not knowing it, or from Merlin's magic randomly choosing one of Jim's mentors be the "base" for Jim's half-troll form and Blinky was the one picked.

I know that, for one of those fics, the author had some interesting evidence they put forward on their tumblr for how Jim and Blinky resembled each other from the start and how it was just MORE OBVIOUS when the two were the same species.

I thought it was fun and decided to throw my own hat in the ring, but with my own twist.

.

In 1995, around the start of spring, Blinkous Galadrigal went missing.

He had gone to the surface to help the current trollhunter, Kanjigar the Courageous, by collecting some more research material that had been dropped by traveling trolls that came to visit Trollmarket. He didn’t return before dawn or in the following days. The only hope that the worst hadn’t come to pass, was that his remains had not been found.

Something that Arrrgh, his closest friend, would point out each time he left to search for him again. He refused to give up hope.

.

The same morning that the scholarly troll vanished, a man was found unconscious in a back alley wearing nothing but a set of ill-fitting, brown overalls and rushed to the Arcadia Oaks Hospital.

He’s unconscious for several weeks and the doctors can’t find any records for him. They dub their patient “James Doe”, and wait patiently for him to come around and hopefully give them insight into who he is and where he came from.

When James finally awakens, he can’t answer them. He can’t remember where he came from, how he ended up in the alley, or even what his name is.

He’s a man that doesn’t exist and, while the staff can theorize for hours based on speech patterns and accent (a middle-american scholar that may have spent some time in England? Apparently the way one speaks can tell a lot about where they came from), they still have no answers.

All he can do is climb to his feet and move forward.

.

After James is cleared to leave the hospital (and stumbles on the surname “Lake” to use for his paperwork), he gets new clothing in his size and temporary residency in the Arcadia Homeless Shelter.

He also makes a friendly acquaintance with a kind volunteer by the name of Barbara O’Neil, who helped him find those options in the first place and gave him someone to chat with numerous times during his hospital stay.

.

Several Months later, and a stronger friendship forged between the two, Barbara learns that a friend-of-a-friend was looking for an assistant for his job and hasn’t had much luck finding one. So she passes along the suggestion to James.

Norman Polk is a friendly, relaxed man despite his intimidating height and many scars. Most shockingly, he can wield magic as easily as he breathes and seems fairly sure James has some too.

Mr. Polk is a detective, who works to help the everyday person with his gifts as much as he can but has trouble keeping track of the many papers, books, and research that come with the work. And, for James, he’s willing to give him a chance even with his mysterious background.

The work comes easily to James, hunting for the truth and searching for answers is familiar in a way he can’t explain. Handling the paperwork and research is laughably easy.

He gets the job.

(When his new boss learns that he’s been living in a homeless shelter, he insists that James move into the spare room in Norman’s office/house.)

.

Two years pass, and James transitions from being Norman’s assistant to his business partner. The sharp-eyed researcher to Norman’s people-wise instincts. They work well together and have a reputation that can’t be sneezed at. It’s something both of them view with pride.

He’s also realized that he’s fallen for his friend Barbara. Hard.

With the encouragement of their mutual friends, they try dating. It works out better than either of them had expected.

.

James proposes at the end of 1998, their wedding the following summer of 1999.

.

In the Spring of 2000, they learn that Barbara’s pregnant and James Lake Jr. is born on October 10th.

The new parents are delighted with their baby boy, despite the anxiety and sleep deprivation throughout. He’s nicknamed “Jim” and he’s a healthy, active little boy with loving parents who work hard to care for him.

Life is good for the small family.

.

Until Jim’s 5th birthday, when James and Norman are called away for an emergency case. James Lake Sr. never comes home.

That night, the missing Blinkous Galadrigal is miraculously found by Kanjigar wandering the sewers of Arcadia in a daze, clutching a bag of assorted magical items in one hand and a minuscule bit of broken metal in another.

He has no memories of where he’d been for the past 10 years, what he’d been doing, or why he’d vanished.

Once he’s confirmed to be the real thing, he’s brought back to Trollmarket, where those lost 10 years remain a mystery. The strange possessions are tucked away in the back of his library, and teased at the back of his mind from that day forward.

.

On the surface, the disappearance of James Lake Sr becomes an unsolved mystery and a rampant story in the Arcadia rumor mill.

The rumor sting, weighing heavily on the remaining members of the family. Especially as those rumors spiral beyond control, becoming progressively more vicious as time goes on.

Norman tries to keep the hope alive, showing Barbara magic that shows that her lost husband is still alive even if they don’t know where he is. He keeps searching for clues, hints, anything to lead him to his missing friend. He reiterates, over and over, that James wouldn’t just abandon them. He loved Barbara and Jim far too much to do that to them.

.

Three years later, his search is cut tragically short because of an accident with a drunk driver that took his life. The accident hurts  so much,  and Barbara’s hope fades with each following year.

But her friend, Allison (and her husband, Thomas), pitch in where they can to help with the burden. And her neighbor, Nancy, gives her a place to go when her home is too much. With their help, she doesn’t fall apart, even when the rumors and snide remarks become too much.

.

When Jim turns 12, eight years after James went missing, she decides she can’t keep waiting.

She files for James Lake Sr to be declared legally dead.

(The rumors abruptly die at that. Something small and spiteful in her chest is pleased with that.)

She can feel her heart breaking throughout the process and she finally lets herself grieve at the end. The most she can gather herself together to say to Jim is that she’s not married to James anymore.

Now she’s a widow raising her son on her own, and the only route left is forward.

.

The year of Jim’s 15th birthday, Jim is chosen by the Amulet of Daylight to become the first-ever human Trollhunter and his life is turned upside down.

The following three years of his life are chaotic. Filled with magic and monsters, joy and fear, history making triumphs and soul crushing losses. There is so much happening he can barely handle it.

It’s surprising how comfortable he is with his new mentor, Blinkous “Blinky” Galadrigal. Something about the troll just- clicks with him and he can never seem to put it into words. Blinky puts those feelings into words for him, the day the troll calls him his son.

(A small, buried part of him wonders if this was what he could have had if his own father had stayed.)

.

Barbara finally opens her heart again and tries to build something new. Even as her mind whispers how similar Blinky sounds to James, how much his human form resembled her missing husband, how much he and Jim resemble each other no matter the form either of them were in.

There’s no way to test if a human and a troll were related, and she doesn’t think her heart could take being wrong if she let herself hope again. No matter how badly she wishes she could finally have an  answer.

(James had built his life from amnesia that had been potentially caused by magic. Norman had warned them when they started dating that, if that magic broke or was reversed, he could lose his memories again. Blinky was a troll, but a troll could be turned human… No, she couldn’t let herself be wrapped up in theories.)

.

But, eventually, the losses became too great.

Loss of friends, loss of family, loss of home. One Pyrrhic victory after another that weighed them down.

When the true purpose of the Krohnisfere offers Jim the chance to go back and save the precious people they’ve lost, he takes it.

In the hearts of his surviving friends and family, they all hope it will work too.

.

.

.

.

It’s 1998 and James Lake bolts awake in the middle of the night with a strangled gasp, as if from a terrible nightmare.

Laying in the dark of his room at the house that he shares with Norman, his heart racing a mile-a-minute as his eyes adjust to the darkness, he remembers.

[thesquidkid]

Chapters: 2/? Fandom: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Max Evans/Liz Ortecho, Max Evans & Dallas Haines, Liz Ortecho & Kyle Valenti Characters: Liz Ortecho, Max Evans, Dallas Haines, Kyle Valenti, and a bunch of Oasians Additional Tags: Post-Canon Fix-It, Oasis, Liz does science, Alien Culture, Alien Planet, alien science, Max is a damsel in distress Summary:

“I don’t want to leave your side, Max. But I also want to live. I want to fix what is wrong with my brain. I want to see Rosa’s art. I want to see the damn ocean. So I won’t go with you. Even if it breaks my heart to watch you go.”

Max crosses the portal and steps foot on Oasis for the first time since he was a kid. He was going to save the planet, to heal it from the disease that was Jones. But things don't always go as planned.

Liz is going to find a cure and heal her brain. And then, she'll do what she does best: save Max Evans.

[parseisflat]

16 for spotify wrapped stuff :D

16 is redbone by childish gambino!

How'd it get so scandalous? Oh, how'd it get so scandalous?

"Jesus, Jack. Fuck."

Kent's eyes are two black stones, inches away from Jack's. He's jabbing his finger into Jack's chest, hard. Like he wants it to hurt. "I had to find out from a shitty tabloid? You couldn't bother telling me?"

Millions of sentences rush through Jack's brain, starting from "She's not my girlfriend" and ending with "Aren't you supposed to understand the sacrifices we make to play hockey?" But the only thing that comes out is "Parse…"

The mirror on the wall rattles with the force of the door slamming behind Kent.

[evidently-endless]

i think we should remind musicians they can absolutely make up little stories for their songs btw. it doesn’t have to be about them at all. you can invent a guy and put him in situations to music. time honoured tradition in fact.

[cronenfag]

as far as i'm concerned all gore is necessary

[officialspec]

modern au but set in brisbane. is this anything

[daisywords]

One of my biggest nitpicks in fiction concerns the feeding of babies. Mothers dying during/shortly after childbirth or the baby being separated form the mother shortly after birth is pretty common in fiction. It is/was also common enough in real life, which is why I think a lot of writers/readers don't think too hard about this. however. Historically, the only reason the vast majority of babies survived being separated from their mother was because there was at least one other woman around to breastfeed them. Before modern formula, yes, people did use other substitutes, but they were rarely, if ever, nutritionally sufficient.

Newborns can't eat adult food. They can't really survive on animal milk. If your story takes place in a world before/without formula, a baby separated from its mother is going to either be nursed by someone else, or starve.

It doesn't have to be a huge plot point, but idk at least don't explicitly describe the situation as excluding the possibility of a wetnurse. "The father or the great grandmother or the neighbor man or the older sibling took and raised the baby completely alone in a cave for a year." Nope. That baby is dead I'm sorry. "The baby was kidnapped shortly after birth by a wizard and hidden away in a secret tower" um quick question was the wizard lactating? "The mother refused to see or touch her child after birth so the baby was left to the care of the ailing grandfather" the grandfather who made the necessary arrangements with women in the neighborhood, right? right? OR THAT GREAT OFFENDER "A newborn baby was left on the doorstep and they brought it in and took care of it no issues" What Are You Going to Feed That Baby. Hello?

Like. It's not impossible, but arrangements are going to have to be made. There are some logistics.

[aspiringwarriorlibrarian]

You know, it's kinda funny how much of high fantasy centers around kings and nobility and courtly intrigue considering that the archetypal high fantasy, Lord of the Rings, had the rather explicit moral of "saving the world is up to this backwater hick and his gardener because no politician, least of all inherited nobility, would have the ability to see past their own ambition and throw away a weapon". Oh sure, Aragorn is a great king and all, but there's a reason he's over there running a distraction ring while the hobbits do the real work. Sauron loses because he gets distracted by kings and armies and great battles (i.e. typical high fantasy stuff) letting Frodo and Sam sneak through his back door and blow it all to hell.

Just saying, maybe old Jirt knew what he was saying when he said that the small folk doing their best and holding to each other was more powerful than a dozen alliances and superweapons and we should respect him for it.

[lgbtlunaverse]

Nothing will dispell the "the curtains were just blue" myth faster than writing something yourself, because the amount of pretentious symbolism i am putting in my silly little fanfics is ridiculous. I mean SO much with these words, literally every single one of them. This fic has twenty five typos and zero correct uses of punctuation but if there's curtains you bet your ass I put thought into what colour they were.

[dastardlydaemon]

You're still looking. (anari)

𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐔𝐀𝐋 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐒𝐄𝐗𝐔𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍

⤙ ✣ ⤚ Daemon eyed her in that telling manner that showed both his smugness and arrogance with undeniable certainty born out of his years as a royal who often got what he wanted when he wanted it. There was a compelling smirk tugging on a corner of his lips that coupled with the relaxed fashion he was seated on the chaise, one could tell that he was both amused and something else.

that something else his being expectant and not the least bothered in not showing it. he pulled back his already cocked to the side head and took her in her entirety. his piercing violet gaze leisurely rolling over all of her exposed skin (even the not-so-exposed parts too).

' you wouldn't be standing there if you did not want me to be still looking, little sand princess. ' what a game it was they both were playing. him in not making a move at all other than staying put and watching. while she with her movements and her coy pretences of not wanting him to do or be or anything. denial, all of it. and he could tell since he read her body just as he could see she could read his.

they both wanted one another. that much was obvious. but who would pounce first, now that was the question?