#enjoy the idea of getting to just… move on from chaos of the elemental magic stuff and decided this was her way out. this was how she could

[un-pearable]

immediately post s4 kai and skylor dynamic that’s somewhere between baby’s first genuine romance and “the only other person in my life who knows how to run a business” ft. them both fumbling to figure out how to file taxes for a corporation whose every major employee got turned into a snake and exiled to another dimension

[thydungeongal]

Hi there, I got started with ttrpgs after dnd 5e came out so I don't have any personal experience or strong opinions about 4e. Would you be willing to share some of the things that were different in that version that you enjoyed?

So okay with the caveat that there isn't a single edition of D&D I don't enjoy to some extent, this isn't really a "list of reasons why D&D 4e is objectively better than any edition of D&D ever," but more like "list of features of D&D 4e where I feel it distinguishes itself from other editions":

As much as D&D has always been a combat-focused game, where characters usually have to at some point rely on violence, D&D 4e is the one edition where combat has felt the most tactically engaging and where there are sometimes genuinely tough tactical decisions to be made. Part of the beauty of D&D 4e's combat is down to a very simple fact: combat isn't quite as swingy as in other editions, where a couple of lucky rounds can either make or break the combat in the characters' favor. If you lose in D&D 4e it's usually not the result of a single bad turn, but multiple turns' worth of bad decision-making and bad luck. There's nearly always a way for players to turn around a combat that's going badly. While I also enjoy the extremely lethal and swingy editions of old on the macro level, combat in them isn't as tactically satisfying as in 4e to me (but on the flipside, combat being very quick and dirty is definitely a benefit of those systems).

I genuinely feel that it does class balance better than any other edition of D&D. Class balance has always been tough in D&D: you've either had artificial balancing like "start Magic-Users weak and have them advance slower, but once they survive to higher levels they become extremely strong," or just poorly thought out "I guess one of the Druid's class features is having an extra character that's a bear and almost as strong as a Fighter, and the Druid can summon more bears while turned into a bear." That isn't to say that it's perfect: some classes had their growing pains (Warlocks weren't great to begin with, Avengers were good but not great) and some classes did outshine others (I'm not sure if this was ever the consensus, but I always got the vibe from discussions that Fighters were probably the best Defender), but it was very hard to build a character who could overwhelm an entire party or play rocket tag while everyone else was still playing D&D.

Many of the additions and changes to the lore and cosmology of D&D were welcome to me. I liked reframing the cosmic conflict as gods vs elemental primordials, as it felt like a return to the Law vs Chaos conflict of old. I liked the idea of devils as corrupted angels, punished for deicide, which also made them a great mirror to demons that in 4e were technically corrupted elementals! It basically turned the Blood War into a dark reflection of the ongoing conflict between order and chaos (as represented by the gods and the primordials)

The Warlord is such an amazing class. It is genuinely my favorite thing to come out of 4e, and the fact that it was never brought into 5e is actually the worst thing the designers of 5e ever did, even though they explicitly promised the return of every class that had ever been featured in the first PHB of the game.

Of all the WotC D&Ds it had the simplest and most intuitive action economy. Standard, Move, Minor. You get one of each. Standard action can be traded in for a Move or Minor action. Move action can be turned in for a Minor action. It's hilarious to me how simple it is and how 5e in trying to simplify it further by making movement something you have every turn by default and making bonus actions a separate thing ended up making the action economy more complex with its various if: then statements about when you're allowed to use a specific bonus action and how sometimes a bonus action you've used can limit the actions you can take.

[adorkablecringeworks]

That Color Looks Good on You

~The Kissing Prank~

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Pairing: rottmnt x gn!reader

Warnings: Mild swearing

Summery: Up next Mikey! 83

Author’s Note:

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Part 2: Magic Mike

The lair is calm. Everyone is in their respective places, doing their own thing. All around peaceful and relaxed…

Ooooh boy is that about to change.

Chaos has arrived! Putting the menthos in the cola, NO ONE is safe today.

First up on the list, the youngest, the baby (don’t let him hear that he’ll totally throttle you), Mikey. The clanging of pots and pans echoing through the abandoned train station the Hamato’s call home made it easy in finding him. Currently located over in his domain, the kitchen. It looks like he’s getting an early start in prepping dinner.

You and Mikey cook together regularly, with you assist him or he assisting you. It’s always fun bouncing ideas of each other as well as teaching each other about different foods and new cooking techniques. Leo would join sometimes, but it usually ends up getting too crowded with everyone stumbling over each other. So he often sits to the side. Either joining the conversation or simply reading his comics, just sharing the same space and enjoying the company.

For today, Mikey’s on his own, razzmatazzing in his own element. You would normally join him when you're over, but not this time. You have a mission to accomplish with Leo.

You and your co-conspirator approach with caution, quietly peering through the doorway. There he is, singing along to his music playing from his good ol’ trusty boombox. Throwing little dance moves here and there. All in all, It’s quite adorable…

He has no clue to what’s coming.

Unfortunately, you can’t help but bop your head along to his tunes. Leo elbows in your arm to get you back into focus. You grumble back under your breath as you rub your arm. Damn those boybands and their infectiously catchy music.

Time to get to work.

=======================================================

Look at this!

A wild Michelangelo! A true rarity!

Michelangelo’s are traditionally called Mikey but are also know as; Michael, Mike, Miguel, Angelo, Angie or simply as Orange.

Agile as they are adorable, Mikey’s are far stronger than they appear.

They are known for their friendly, sweet dispositions and are quite affectionate. They are highly social creatures, having strong familial bonds and usually are found in family groups of 4. Although Mikey’s have been reported being seen in bales of up to 7 individuals.

Do not let their adorable and friendly nature fool you. Mikey’s are fast, powerful and destructive. They have the ability to lift bajillion times their own weight.

Though not easily provoked, Mikey’s do have a limit to their patience and is a force to be reckoned with when pushed too far.

=======================================================

You do your best (frankly, that’s not saying much. It’s just terrible) Down Unda accent for your nature documentary as your slider records you. Conjointly, with overly dramatic hand gestures along your narration. Leo can’t help his snickering once you’ve finished.

“Shshshshshs ssshush shshusssh shhsh”

You adjust yourself to get back into your role

“Ahahem”

=======================================================

As I mentioned before, Mikey’s are friendly and affectionate so approaching is relatively easy. Mirroring this temperament, he’ll be none the wiser on what’s to come.

=======================================================

With that, you stand up and enter the kitchen.

“Hey big man!” You casually approach him from behind, wrapping your arms around his neck and give him a soft squeeze for a hug. Causing him too squeak softly.

“Getting an early start on Dindin?”

(Dindin… Really? You’re a nerd)

“Hey yourself!” His smile never faltering, Mikey returns the hug by leaning back into you. He flashes his signature blinding smile your way (why do you always forget your damn sunglasses when you’re around him? Even from this angle!).

“I didn’t know you were coming over! Will you be staying for dinner?”

“That depends on what’s on the menu for tonight?”

You peer down over his shoulder to see what he has lined up. Surrounding him are different spices and seasonings along with some garlic and olive oil (it all smells so good). In front is a cutting board, his chef knife, and a bowl of-

“Brussels sprouts again!?” You grimace at the offending vegetable. There it sits, a vibrant, healthy green, mocking. Throughly washed and ready to be prepped.

“Why Mikey? Why must you do this to us?” You whine, bouncing up and down on your toes. “You’re not gonna do that soup again are ya?”

The box turtle chuckles at the pout he can hear in your voice

“Come on it wasn’t that bad.”

“Dude… it had paprika and trout…”

“Paprika and TROUT!” Leo echos in disbelief, making his appearance known.

“Hi Leo. I should of known.” Mikey rolls his eyes and let’s out a sigh. “Where there is one, the other isn’t that far behind.” Despite the sass, his smile never wavers.

His response makes you and Leo chuckle. It seems that the youngest has yet to notice Leo filming with his phone.

Mikey picks up his knife to begin stemming and peeling the bustle with you comfortably still attached to his back. Apparently very much relaxed and content in your arms. All the while Leo continues his rant.

“Not even Raph could stomach it little brother.” He shakes his head. “And he ate that origami salami that had been manhandled by two foot clan’s hands, that have touch pizza supreme knows what, from off that old ship’s floor for Zza sake!”

“Yeah I’m all up for trying new stuff but that…. That certainly did not ‘Unleash The Flavor’.” Leo and you shudder simultaneously.

Mikey pauses in his work to deadpan at the both of you, then continues with his task at hand.

Leo saunters over to his usual spot over at the kitchen island takes a seat on his claimed stool. He keeps his phone steady, resting his elbows on the counter as he continues to film. This angle is perfect to capture everything. Mikey finally picks up on his older brother holding his phone out but pays it no mind. Figuring that he’s just watching some video on the internet. Yet, he somehow completely misses that Leo’s face is marked up.

“And let’s not forget the time you put it on pizza. For all things sacred you don’t put brussels spouts on pizza Miguel!”

Mikey snubs his sibling with a ‘humph’. “Raph ate that just fine.”

You chuckle at the the two of them.

“Well, for ‘all things sacred’,” You make air quotes with your hands over Mikey’s shoulder, “You don’t put pineapple on pizza either lEOnArDo.” Then wrapping them around Mikey again.

Leo scowls at your teasing, sticking his tongue out at you in an pouty blep (adorable). Both you and Mikey snicker.

“Aaannyways that’s not saying much Michael since it’s a known fact he eats moldy bread.”

“Ok ok your right, I agree.” The turtle in orange deflates, “The soup was not my finest moment and the pizza wasn’t that great either. But this is time it’s different!” He perks back up and peeks over his shoulder at you. “They be roasted with garlic, rosemary, olive oil with a dash of wasabi.”

He finishes his presentation with the bounce of his brows.

“Ok now THAT sounds yummy.” You glance over to your companion who nods in approval.

“Ok then yes I’m staying if there is enough.”

“Duh! There’s always enough for you.” He beams at you once more.

There! You catch your opening.

“Thank you Mikey” You nuzzle your cheek against his. “You’re the best!”

As someone who’s known for his physical affection, he readily nuzzles back, giggling, unknowing in what’s about to befall on him.

Seeing the affectionate display of you and his baby brother spreads a warmth through in the leader’s chest and a gentle smile on his face. Thankful for how the important people on his life getting along so well, bonding so easily. However, the feeling is short live, his gentle smile morphs back to his signature smirk for he knows what’s next.

The poor lovable, ignorant fool.

With Mikey momentarily distracted from his form his task at hand, he lets you turn him around and cup his face with in your hands. He in turns, grasp your wrists gently for support. His face is your favorite. Always so soft and squishy, so you squish, causing his eyes close.

“You are the sweetest ever!”

The bush returns to his cheeks at your praise however, before he can respond, (and once again) you attack.

Your smooches are precise and swift, producing a squeal from the youngest ninja followed by a torrent of incredibly epizootic laughter. It takes all of your willpower to fight his affliction.

On the other hand, Leo has no need to resist and freely cackles along. It makes your task that much harder. A few snorts and giggles manage to escape you in which resulted in small raspberries against Mikey’s face.

That was a mistake.

Leo’s cackles delves into a deep belly laugh. Laughing so hard he drops his head to the counter and bangs his fist against it. Remembering that he’s suppose to be filming, he fights not to fall off his stool as he over corrects himself.

Meanwhile Mikey is laughing so hard that he starts to tremble and completely loses the ability to breathe.

The situation is hilariously getting out of hand and you are finally forced to stop. Finally able to let your giggles free. You check to see if you were able to enough coverage. You’ve succeeded and are loving how your shade of lipstick compliments the soft flush of the turtle’s cheeks. As well as adoring just absolutely how infectious his smile is with his adorable tooth gap on prominent display.

“What was all that for? You’ve stayed for dinner many times already”

“I know. Just wanted you let you know how much I appreciate you. I don’t think I do that enough.”

Mission accomplished. You let go of his face and he, in turn, your wrists.

“Well let you get back to it.” You give the orange ninja one last kiss on the squishiest part of his cheek, making him give one last squeal as you pull away. With lingering chuckles, Leo takes his cue and follows you out of the kitchen. Carefully wiping the tears from his eyes as to not smear the lipstick on his face.

As swiftly as you arrived, you and your cohort depart. Leaving Mikey there beaming and sooo confused.

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[ben-talks-art]

12. Action Manga recommendations!

This is something that I'm kinda shocked it took me this long to start doing... Let's try talking about some of my favorite mangas from different genres and why I like them and maybe who could like them too.

I'm gonna try to split them up into what element I think stands out the most from each to make it easier to talk about them.

I'm will at least try to bring attention to some obscure series... But I make no promises. This will mostly just be me talking about the stuff I like, and hopefully one of them will end up being something new to someone.

Nice drama recommendations

These are the series that usually involves a lot of characters talking and debating over the morality of the plot. They usually have people asking things like "are we right? are we wrong? Why? Who's the real enemy? What are we fighting for?" and so on.

First, we have Radiant, a series about a magical world of mages and monsters with a main character that's kind of a middle ground between the two and is trying to seek this place called "radiant" which apparently is where all the monsters come from so he can find out why they are being sent to this world and possibly find a way to stop them from causing chaos to the people.

It's written by a French author and you can tell, the dialogue in this is phenomenal. I would highly recommend checking this out just to see the way these people talk with each other, it feels so natural and everyone is so charming. They all have amazing interactions.

Peach Boy Riverside is about a girl that receives a power that allows her to kill demons with little to no effort while also giving her a dangerous thirst for killing them. The problem is... The girl as well as plenty of other characters are actually friends with many of the demons so she has to constantly keep this power under control, on top of that, the boy she has a crush on also has that power and he just despises demons, so she keeps finding herself caught in the middle of everyone's anger and trying to find a solution that doesn't rely on just killing everything, even though her own power really wants to. It's really interesting.

Claymore is about this woman who works as a professional monster killer. She, as well as many other killers, go from place to place and get hired with the task to eliminate some creature that's attacking all the people, and once they're done, they just move to the next place.

What's cool about Claymore is that all the monsters used to be regular people, so a lot of time is dedicated to the heroes and the villains trying to understand each other and thus adding more layers to their fights. It basically go from the usual good vs evil to two individuals who just happen to be stuck in opposite situations and have to face one another. And some of the backstories for tons of the antagonists are just so freaking interesting. Everyone here feels like the main character of their own story. This is a really solid 10/10 cast of characters.

Crazy action recommendations

These are the series where the authors just enjoy going bonkers with the fights.

Dandandan is about a girl that likes ghosts that has psychic powers and a boy that likes aliens that is possessed by a spirit. The idea is that this mixes supernatural threats with sci-fi threats, and they do it in a very fun way. Sometimes the antagonist will be a giant ghost that likes to dance, another times it will be a boxing alien crab. This series knows how silly its premise is, and its just loving every second of it.

Undead Unluck is about a girl that can curse anyone that touches her with a lot of misery and a guy that can't die. They put 2+2 together and decide to team up as he's the only one that can survive her and she's the only one that can make him feel alive.

The fun of this series is that everyone has very specific powers based on tons of specific rules, so a lot of the fights rely on characters playing 4D chess with the rules of their weird powers to overcome their opponent, and this sounds like it would get tiresome as if every fight was like some sort of homework, but they manage to keep the action going at all times and getting you up to speed to what everyone can do and how they can exploit what they can do. The ways they use the guy's ability to not die in particular are absurdly creative, doing things like turning his blood into swords and bullets or using it as a lightning rod for the girl's bad luck. Fun stuff!

Zatch Bell is one of my favorites. It's basically a pokemon/digimon setting where kids get paired with some sort of teammate and fight other kids and their teammates, but in this case, the teammates are little children and they fight using books of spells.

Each child has dozens of spells in their books that are a variation of their base power. For example, Zatch himself has lighting powers, so one spell is like a blast of electricity, another is like an electric shield, another one can magnetize the enemy, and so on.

You never what new spell will be used and how it will be used, which makes each fight feel fresh and unique. And the fact that these are kids teaming up with children allow for them to create deeper relationships and thus make you care more about seeing them get out okay from the fight.

Wholesome recommendations

These are for the people who just want to enjoy nice likable people having sweet wholesome moments.

Ottoman is about a guy and his wife who both get fused with an alien and get tasked with fighting other dangerous aliens to keep the world safe, but the nice twist is that the dude's alien is powered by affection, so in order to get stronger during fights he needs to remember all the things he loves about his wife. It's so freaking silly but at the same time so adorable.

The wrong way of using healing magic is one of those isekai stories where three kids go to another world and one of them gets the role of being a healer, except he doesn't use the healing just to help people, he uses it to make his fatigue go away so he can work on his body muscle and reflexes. And what's even better is that because he keeps healing his opponents everyone eventually ends up befriending him. This one is just a really likable read.

(Oh God, I can never remember this one's name...) A Breakthrough Came Out by Forbidden Master and Disciple, is about a boy who instead of being a hero tasked with facing the demon lord, is actually the son of the hero who defeated the demon lord, and thus has a lot of insecurities because he has trouble living up to his father's name. But that all changes when the ghost of the demon lord starts haunting him and they make a deal where he will train the boy if he promises to show him the world (it turns out that the demon lord was stuck in a basement for years with nobody to talk to... poor guy...)

The bond between the boy and the demon lord is honestly very sweet. You can tell they respect each other and want to make the other proud while also proving their full potential to all of those that looked down on them. One being looked down for not being as great as the hero, and the other for having been killed by the hero. It's a great premise.

Edgelord Recommendations

Okay, this is for those who want to inject some "hardcoreness" into their blood.

Ragna Crimson is about a guy that sends all his powers into the past after he realizes there is no way to save the future from the threat of the dragons. Once he succeeds in contacting his younger self, he also advises him to meet up with Crimson, one of the smartest dragons of the world who also happens to hate dragons.

Together, with Crimson's brains and Ragna's powers they just travel the world beating the hell out of tons of dragons with some freaking metal artwork. Some of these fights go way harder than they need to and it always feel so damn epic. The person drawing these action scenes is just giving their 120%, to the point where sometimes I just want to ask them to chill a little (as an artist, you kinda start to feel sorry for other artists when you realize how much work they put on every page).

Here's another name I can never remember... Gachiakuta is a garbage manga, and by that I mean, everyone fights using garbage.

We're operating with Ghost Rider rules where each character can pick up something that was thrown out that holds some sort of special bond to them and turn it into an absurd weapon.

It has all the usual cool edgelord tropes. The main character was betrayed by his people, thrown out like trash, had his loved one killed, decided to dedicate his life to revenge and making them pay, while also teaming up with other people that were also thrown out like trash who each have their own angsty backstory, all while fighting giant trash monsters (because why not?), and also trying his best to keep this rage inside of him from going out of control.

You just know Sasuke and Shadow, the hedgehog are just looking at this from somewhere and going "That's our boy!"

Just like Ragna, the artwork here is insane. Everyone here has such a badass design that makes it look like they're ready to throw down with anyone at any moment.

Finally, we have Rebuild World, a series set in a dystopian future where a young boy is found by a psychopathic A.I. who wants to turn him into a super amazing warrior so he can enter some... Place and get some... Thing... that she wants him to get.

This series feels like the kind of story that could happen in the background of the anime Cyberpunk: Edgerunners. The atmosphere of this setting feels very similar to Edgerunners.

This future just feels like it's waiting to tear the main lead apart. The people want to kill him, the monsters want to kill him, the robots want to kill him... Everyone and everything wants to kill him. And the only way for him to survive is to listen to his A.I. (his very, VERY horny A.I., because of course...) and learn how to use the people around him in order to secure his safety. If you like dark sci-fi futures with lots of gun fighting, you're gonna love this.

----- ----- ----

And these are my action manga recommendations. Hopefully, you end up finding at least one that got your interest and turns out to be to your liking!

Give some of them a chance and find out!

[hypnoneghoul]

Mushy May Day 20. Stargazing/bonfire - Dewther

WC: 760

Read under the cut or on AO3.

The bonfires at the Ministry were actually a common occurrence. No one needed a specific occasion for it. Sometimes it was just the siblings, sometimes just ghouls and sometimes everyone, including papas. Either way, one of the ghouls came up with making one tonight, this time just for them, and now the Abbey’s backyard was full of drunk ghouls jumping and dancing around a huge, magic induced, bonfire.

The fire ghouls were, of course, the happiest ones, their element making it more difficult to connect with than water, earth or air on a daily basis. Ifrit was currently running around with Zephyr on his back, both so drunk some people were impressed that they actually were able to stay upright. And running.

Alpha was more calm, though equally drunk, dancing, or trying to, with Omega. The quintessence ghoul had to hold him up by his hips, as he was well on his way to tumbling over his own feet because of this ‘dance’. Mist laying with Water a bit to the side on a picnic blanket was laughing and taking pictures and/or videos of the adorable pair. Alpha so chill wasn’t something that was easy to spot, she wanted to keep it for later.

One fire ghoul wasn’t indulging in the evening the same way as his fellow elementals, though. Not that he didn’t like the bonfires, he loved them, but this time something else was his, hm, priority.

Dewdrop was laying on the ground, cuddled up to Aether, a solid distance from the bonfire and all the chaos. They were staring up at the sky, tracing glowing stars, recognising constellations. They had no idea how much time they spent there already, Dew providing a comfortable warmth, Aether holding him close.

The fire ghoul loved stars. First of all, they were beautiful, simple as that. More important, though, when Dew looked at them he saw Aether, and when he looked at Aether, into his eyes, he saw the stars.

Aether has been there for him always. Him and the stars in his eyes.

When Dew was first summoned, the first thing he saw was Aether and his eyes, the cosmos, the eternity, the stars. He knew he found his home.

When Dew had doubted himself and sank to the bottom of the Abbey’s lake for hours, because only there he could find peace, reclusion from everything, his own mind included, the first thing he saw after resurfacing was always Aether. Either in the flesh, waiting for his packmate to come back home, or in the form of a night sky ignited with countless little lights. Every time it reminded him that not only the water meant comfort, Aether too.

When Dew was dragged away to the summoning chamber for an unknown reason, scared, screaming for help, the last thing he saw, or rather felt, before blacking out was Aether, the stars, in his mind, telling him that everything will be alright, while running around the Abbey looking for the water ghoul.

When Dew woke up again, in terrible pain, stripped of all that was him, Aether was there, the stars were there. His lifeline, tether to reality, the only thing that could keep him alive while everything else seemed to fall apart. Aether, the stars, was there.

So now, another bonfire. 

Aether was there, the stars were too. 

Honestly, Dew could keep looking up, pointing out different constellations, shooting stars, it was nice. He much more enjoyed looking into his own sky, staring at his own stars, though.

The fire ghoul moved to lay on his side, elbow bent, head propped on his palm and casted his eyes down onto his personal universe.

It took Aether a moment to notice that his mate abandoned stargazing, himself being really invested in it, “Everything all right?”

“More than, actually,” Dew answered, a soft smile painted on his face and so much love in his eyes.

“Why’d you get up then?” Aether questioned, lifting himself up too.

“I got a better view from here.”

“How is it better if- Oh,” Dew chuckled when the quintessence ghoul got the hint, lilac blush creeping up his cheeks. “Well, I love you too.”

Dewdrop took Aether by the back of his neck, bringing him into a soft kiss. They both melted into it, into each other, and soon Dew was sprawled out on top of his mate, lips still attached to the other’s.

They fell asleep like that, and when Dew woke up in the morning, Aether was there. 

The stars were there.

[bumbleb4008]

Hi!!! This is my first post and I really hope that you like the stories I have!😝🥰😊 I love marvel and Disney and have come up with a few characters of my own and I hope you will very much enjoy reading about them!

Chapter 1: The Cell

This is a story about a girl named Cameron Maximoff.

“Hey, hey!” A familiar voice said to the young girl, drifting out of her sleep. “Hey kitten.” It was her older brother Pietro. “I told you to stop calling me that I’m almost 13. I don’t need to be treated like a kid anymore, I’ve been through enough crap to still be considered a kid” Cameron said with a sarcastic laugh. “She’s right” said another sarcastic voice that belonged to Wanda, the older sister of Cameron and twin to Pietro. “She’s almost a teenager!” She said with a laugh. For a moment things almost felt normal, like they weren’t in a Hydra lab in the middle of what she hoped was the mountain ranges of Sokovia.

Cameron eyes flickered green from her normal dark blue, a little flower sprouted from her hand. Wanda was given chaos magic, Pietro was given the ability to move faster then the speed of light and Cameron, she was given elemental magic well if you wanted to call it given. Because of the tests that hydra ran on her she sat in her cell, now with 9 perpendicular scars from her belly button to the middle of her back. She would call it anything but given more like it was forced on her.

“Why did you volunteer?” Cameron asked. “Cami we talked about this” said Wanda in that motherly tone that Cameron hated. “Talked about it! We didn’t talk about it all you said is I’ll tell you when your older. Well guess what I’m older!” She was getting mad. She hated it here in this hell. “6 years we’ve been here 6 years! In this hell hole!” Cameron yelled. “Watch your tone!” Wanda yelled but Pietro just laughed. “You want to know why we volunteered?” Pietro said “We did because they told us you would be safe and that’s all we wanted. After the bombing and mom and dad were killed, it was just the 3 of us. Me and Wanda were 10 and left to raise a 7 month old baby on the streets. We lasted 6 years but you were sick and they offered us safety and medicine for you. That’s why we volunteered Cami, to keep you safe we didn’t know it would be like this.” Pietro finished looking at Cameron waiting for her reaction.

Cameron just looked at him. “I didn’t know.” She looked at her feet but not for long because the sirens began wailing. The 3 looked at each other. “Those are the sirens that go off when something breaks in!” Cameron said in disbelief. “But who would be breaking in!?” Wanda and Pietro said in sink. “You sure they didn’t give you guys twin telepathy.” Cameron said with a smirk. “Not the time Cami!” They said in sink again making it impossible not to laugh. But in all seriousness who would be braking in?

A thought came to the young girls mind but it was crazy but just crazy enough that it might be true. What if it was the Avengers, it sounded just as crazy in her head but the more she thought about it the more it made sense. The latest Avenger level threat was Loki and Cameron knew for a fact that Loki’s sceptre was here. What if they could get her out of this hell hole.She couldn’t tell her siblings because the might warn the guards but if she could just get out of this cell and she had a pretty good idea.

She took a deep breath she just needed conformation that they were here that it was the Avengers.

[eienshi09]

Killing Chaos

(and Parting Thoughts on Final Fantasy I)

Previously: The Ancients, The Tower, and The Wind Crystal

Welp, we've at long last reached the end of the first Final Fantasy game. While I largely enjoyed my time with the game, I think I would only recommend the game as a piece of history in the franchise, genre, and even gaming at large. There's some fun to be had with the game, to be sure, but the experience is hamstringed by antiquated mechanics and wonky balance. As stated in past posts, I try not to hold the limitations of the past against the game; however, knowing why the game was made the way it was in 1987 does not improve actually playing it in 2022.

I suppose then these are more critiques of the Dawn of Souls remaster (and the Final Fantasy Origins remake it is based off of) than against the original game itself. While I don't know if they could have feasibly overhauled the entire encounter system - even in 2004, that was a tall ask - they could have at least added some quality of life options to reduce encounter rate. Short of that, something like Pokemon's Repel item would have been grand. And failing that, at least make Flee instantaneous so it doesn't take almost as long, if not more time, as just attacking. Anyways, I'm repeating myself at this point so I'll move on.

The various balances of the game are a little weird too. I've already mentioned in a past post how busted the gil drop rate is, so I won't go into that again. But just stuff like the pacing of gear and even how much gear is available for each class is kind of out of wack. I get that mages are supposed to be squishy and not physically attack well, but while Eien the Warrior was getting gear upgrades left and right, Jo Bob the Black Mage was stuck with a leather cap they got at the beginning of the game for most of the run. I'm not saying mages need gear that boost their defense as much as the Warrior's but something to upgrade from the starting gear in the midgame would have been great. Like a hat that boosted intelligence or some gloves to boost attack. Anything. Some of the best pieces of equipment (the Gauntlets and other spell items) the game gives mages aren't even ones they can equip!

Maybe there was something that could have been done to rebalance the classes to make them more equally useful, but that might just be a problem inherent with the whole system, or even multiple systems. Magic just is not that good. White magic might be more useful if gil wasn't as plentiful, but I don't see how black magic can really compete with the sheer amount of damage physical attacks can dish out after just a single Haste. This might be one of those limitations of the time things, but it's interesting to think about how it could have been different.

Again, these critiques do not mean that I did not enjoy the game. It was mostly fun, even if I had to make aggressive use of the fast forward button on my Totally Legit Game Boy Advance. It was truly neat to see how many of the franchise's mainstays and recurring elements started with the very first entry; it was doubly so as a FFXIV player and seeing how many callbacks to FFI there are. Beyond the franchise geekery, Final Fantasy I had some great ideas. The classes were all evocative and distinct - at least flavorfully. It really captured that feeling of playing a tabletop RPG in a digital and single-player package. I just wish some of the later remasters and remakes went a little further with iterating on those ideas or bringing them up to the times.

Alright, enough of my rambling, it's time to go kill Chaos...

The team goes to meet with the Circle of Sages once again. They tell us that the world has been stuck in a 2000-year cycle. Something in the present was sent back to the past, and there it caused great destruction by unleashing the Fiends on the world to wreak havoc in the intervening years.

Once they were done with their narrative dump, we head over to Mount Duergar to give the Adamantite to Smyth. He turned it into the fabled Excalibur, and with that the last of our side quests are done.

We head back to the Chaos Shrine where it all started and enter.

Going straight to the altar where we fought Garlond before, we find that the bats in the room now talk, and are the Lufenians that tried to investigate the shrine. We approach the Black Crystal.

And it turns into a portal with which we enter the past of 2000 years ago. The shrine is restored and in tact then. And quite large. We make our way up through the shrine and find a stone slab. However, remembering the lute Princess Sarah gave us all that time ago, we play it, and unseal the passage down. Fighting our way down, we eventually make it to the basement and find some familiar faces waiting for us on each floor: the Four Fiends. Dispatching each of them once more in turn, we make our way to the bottom-most floor of the shrine, and come face-to-face with.... Garlond? He's alive?! He gives us his spiel, and we have at.

We start off with our usual slew of buffs while Chaos bombards us with a rotation of elemental spells. It is enough that we have to set up an array of Nul-spells to mitigate some of the damage. Jo Bob is mostly on healing duty, but gets in a couple of Flares where they can. Eien and L swipe away at Chaos, while Roxann chips in between reapplying buffs when needed. Chaos heals himself, and we think if we should have bought Protera for this. Eventually though, we defeat him and vanquish darkness from the world once and for all!

If you've read all this, thank you very much! See you in Final Fantasy II!

[technicolor-rhapsody]

Story summary: Being a witch isn't as easy as everyone thinks. You can't just wiggle your nose and all your problems vanish. Nor can you run away from them. Doesn't hurt to try though, right? After several incidents over the past decade, you and your Aunts move to Santa Carla, Murder Capitol of the World in hopes of getting a fresh start and maybe living a normal life.  However, wherever you go trouble and chaos seem to follow. Now it seems your bad luck has manifested into the form of four mysterious, drop dead gorgeous guys. You can't seem to stay away no matter how horrible of an idea it seems to get close to them. But really, what's the worst that could happen?

ship: poly!lost boys x female witch!reader

Rating: E for Explicit. 18+ only!

Warnings: Canon typical violence, dark comedy, horror elements, dark magic, blood, gore, slice of life, fluff, angst, monsters, corruption, coercion, and just a general Dead Dove: Do Not Eat & tags to be added as needed, Canon divergence

a/n: This story is set post canon of the movie(s); two years to be exact. Obviously Canon divergent to a point. Everybody lives except Max. This fic is based off a combination of ideas but really I wanted to give my own, somewhat darker spin on a witch!reader x lost boys. I do want to make a note to say that in terms of magic use in this fic, I'm sticking with more fantasy-like magic (inspirations such as Magic the Gathering & Hellblazer) with hints of real life magic/witch craft. This is something very self indulgent with tropes that I enjoy and inspiration/nods to other horror (and some non horror) media that I love.

Chapter 1: Preview   || Read the Full Chapter on AO3

      The scenery passes by in a blur as you lay curled up in the backseat of your Aunts' station wagon. Boxes, bags and even your brooms fill the trunk area. Samson, your sphynx cat, lays snuggled up with you sound asleep. How nice it must be to be so untroubled. What a lucky, spoiled little goblin he is. You want to think this is some positive experience. A new adventure, a new life. Really it's a sour experience that leaves a pit of anger in your gut. Twenty-two years old and they're treating you like a child. It all was so unfair! Sure, you've made a few mistakes but it's not like your Aunts are saints either. You tried to fix your failures each time. That should count for something, right? But no. You fuck up, they get agitated and then you all are moving on to what is assumed greener pastures.

       You were nine when your aunts had taken you in. Up until you were sixteen the four of you lived a comfortable life in New Orleans. A dead rougarou boyfriend and an accidental zombie infestation is all it took for you to have to pack up and hit the road all the way up to Salem, Massachusetts. Your aunts had been hopeful about their pick of a new spot."You'll make some new friends," they had said. They technically weren't wrong. Except the friends you made ended being the three biggest bitches in school. They held the belief that because they could do magic, they were better than everyone else and could practically do anything they wanted. Much to your dismay, you had learned they were a lot more powerful than you gave them credit for. Almost six months in you had grown tired of their shit, and by the end of junior year you had waged a full out war against them. Hexes, curses, and spells of all sorts were exchanged between you and them. You'd like to think you were the victor. But it didn't matter because once again you were dragged away to another new place. In some ways your aunts seemed more relieved about the move to Florida, citing that they couldn't handle another unbearable, wet winter. While that may be true, you figured it was also because they managed to piss off the local coven.

         Your time in Florida lasted longer than any of you had expected; four years to be exact. You managed to make an actual, decent friend. Her name was Lissa and she came from a more conservative, overbearing household. The two of you had become attached at the hip despite what differences the two of you had in terms of home life. You had grown close enough that you had let Lissa in on the secret of what you could do. A mistake on your part maybe, but she was so understanding and cool about it. And best of all, she kept your secret even till the end. The two of you graduated and started on separate paths: she in college and you extending your magical studies with your aunts while working. Lissa seemed to step out of her shell a bit more, wanting to experience a taste of rebellion and do things she knew her parents wouldn't let her do even as an adult. She wanted to live a fuller life. It started out with small things like reading genres of books her parents had 'banned' (such as fantasy and romance) and playing a few sessions of Dungeons and Dragons. That led to bigger steps like going out to clubs to party and drink till your guts were sick. Eventually it all escalated till one night the two of you got high and decided it was a good idea to play with a ouija board. The conclusion: it was the farthest thing from a good idea. In the end you had to perform your best friend's exorcism. Yet even after the whole demon possession mess, Lissa still considered you her dearest friend; so much so that she came to see you off before you hit the road. You'll never forget her smile or the warmth in her eyes as you hugged one last time before she stood and waved farewell till you were out of sight.

      Now your newest destination is Santa Carla, California, Murder Capitol of the World.

[drawlfoy]

Wonders of Ohio P.10

masterlist request guidelines

pairing: draco x reader

request: no way 

summary: american high school senior y/n y/l/n is in for a surprise when her british exchange student is a little...odd. 

warnings (AYO please pay attention to these this time it’s not just swearing): swearing, underage drinking (no i do not condone this ig), beginning elements of smut but def not too explicit, i think you can consider it dubcon ?? if both people are drunk bc i don’t think you can actually consent if youre drunk (plz rest assured tho they are both 18 hehe)

a/n: “hey where did this come from” yeah so hey yall ive never written such an intense scene before but i’ve spent so much time w these characters that i decided i kind of had to. there’s no like...real sex in this and i don’t imagine that i’d describe it in this much detail if i ever decided to write it but um.. anyways. i hope y’all enjoy. thanks for suffering for this long ! i hope i’ve made it worth it 

word count: 4k

music recs: 

cloud 9 -- beach bunny

the adults are talking -- the strokes

anything from the strokes tbh 

tags ! :) @gruffle1 @missmulti @cleopatera @hahaboop @accio-rogers @geeksareunique @eltanin-malfoy @war-sword @cams-lynn @itsivyberry @ayo-cowbelly @nerd-domland @yesnerdsblog @shizarianathania @evanstanfanatic @strawberriesonsummer @hariosborn @night-ving @straightzoinked @imintoodeeptostop @naiomimoonshard @jejegu @ophelia-enthusiast @alwaysbeanunknownfan @nearly-memories @litty-dumb @callieclearwater @malfoy-wife15 @charlenasaxen @belladaises @fiantomartell @writeandtranslate @erisdogwood @loveissupernatural @sycathorn-slush @big-galaxy-chaos

“Thank fucking god for the generator,” said Y/N as she flew around the kitchen, banging pots and pans together in her quest to make New Year’s Eve breakfast. Draco was sitting, unamused and completely silent, at the table. They’d been snowed in for a few days now with her parents nowhere near able to make it to the suburbs. For some reason, the entire city of Cincinnati had decided that the day before Christmas was the best time to schedule maintenance on literally every single one of their plows. “Can you imagine living here without heat? Or power? I’d die.”

Draco hummed in response. A glance over confirmed that he was deep in thought, a scarlet colored letter clutched firmly in his hand (hello, Nathaniel Hawthorne). Jealousy curdled inside of her as her thoughts turned to a dark place--it was Pansy, that Pansy Parkinson. 

Knowing her intuition, she was probably his grandmother or something. Why else would she have written so many letters?

After she finished plating all of the pancakes, she allowed herself to sneak a peek at the envelope. 

Astoria Greengrass

She frowned. Astoria? She’d never seen that name before. 

“What is this?” asked Draco as he picked up his fork to poke at the pancake on his plate.

Y/N’s jaw dropped. “Have you never had a pancake before?”

“A pancake?” He gave his plate a stern look. “It looks...like a soggy pastry.”

“Fuck you, I made that,” responded Y/N. “Try it with butter and maple syrup. And then tell me it’s a soggy pastry.”

She took out her fork and knife, demonstrating very clearly what she meant as she spread butter over the top of her pancake. She’d learned that Draco was too proud to ask what she meant when she introduced him to American/muggle foods--the last time he tried to deduce something himself, he ended up pouring ketchup over the top of his hamburger bun instead of actually putting it on the patty. 

A sense of satisfaction flowed into her as she saw him follow suit, spreading the warmed butter and dipping a cut piece in syrup. He raised it to his lips, taking a delicate bite.

“Americans really have this for breakfast?”

“Yeah…is something wrong?”

“Nothing. It’s just…” He grimaced. “This isn’t breakfast. This is dessert food.”

“God, your life must be so sad back home,” said Y/N. “What does your family make you eat--just straight unbuttered bread under the guise of it being a real breakfast food? Do they let you dip it in your unsweetened, weak tea if you’re good?”

He scoffed. “You have no idea how I live back at home.”

“And, judging from this conversation, I don’t have any desire to know any more.”

They ate in silence for the next few minutes. Y/N smiled when she saw Draco reach for a second pancake.

“Two desserts? Draco, I know it’s New Year’s, but don’t get too off the hinges,” she teased. 

He rolled his eyes, but she could tell her was fighting back a smile. “Speaking of which, how do you celebrate New Year’s?”

Draco looked up and met her eyes. “Sorry?”

“How do you celebrate tonight? With your family or your friends, or your...whatever.” The cold reality of the fact that she did not really know if he was dating someone back home set in.

“Oh, I don’t usually. It’s not really a big thing in the magical community,” he mused, unaware of her sudden panic.

“Well,” she said. “I always celebrate New Year’s with my friends. I didn’t tell you this sooner because I didn’t think that you were going to be here, but I’m kind of hosting a party here tonight. With anyone who can walk here.”

“Oh.” He took a sip of his tea. “Will it be like the Halloween party at Sylvia’s?”

“What do you mean?” She smiled. “Do you mean, will there be drinking?”

He shrugged in response, avoiding eye contact.

“There definitely can be,” she continued, her smile widening. “Last year we played this dumb drinking game over this card game--if you lost, you took a shot. It was fun. We could do that again.”

She settled down to eat, digging into two of the pancakes. They were really good--she wasn’t Gordon Ramsay by any means, but she did breakfast food pretty well. But at the mention of her friends, a realization hit her. “Oh. Draco?”

He raised an eyebrow and met her eyes.

“Um, can I tell you something?” 

He dipped his head in recognition while Y/N cleared her throat.

“So, um, I forgot about this,” she began, “but while you were gone, I kind of had to scramble to figure out what to tell everyone about why we were avoiding each other before you left. And why you left so suddenly and why I didn’t know.”

He was still watching her in curious silence. 

“So, I really didn’t want to slip up or say anything about...you.” Y/N paused to take a sip of her tea, deciding to not try to look at Draco again. “So I decided to tell Sylvia and Lizzy that I told you my feelings for you and you didn’t return them.”

A clang startled her enough to look up. Draco was staring, completely frozen. His fork had fallen into the syrup on his plate, handle and all.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. 

“I mean, oh, fuck. Um.” She smiled at him, hoping it was going to distract from her audible stumble. “Obviously, I made it all up. I mean, both sides! But what’s important is that they bought it, and now they’re probably going to give you a little shit for not liking me ‘back’. So I’m sorry about that.”

“Made it all up, huh?” His voice had a surprisingly teasing lilt. 

“Yes, that is in fact what I said,” she responded, hoping that her cheeks weren’t as red as they felt hot.

“Is it really now?” 

“Draco!” 

He rolled his eyes. “I’ll be back. I need a new fork.”

“Just wipe off the handle of the one you have now--Draco, why are you getting up? Stop!”

~ 

To her disappointment, none of her friends were able to show. Sylvia and Lizzy made a concerted effort to try and convince their family to let them brave the walk, but once another flurry started up outside, it was hopeless. Her face turned pink whenever she thought about the fact that she hadn’t even needed to tell Draco the thing that made her slip up in the first place. 

Y/N, disappointed but not surprised, told Draco that she still wanted to celebrate, even if it was just with him. He’d snorted at this--asking her why she made it seem like such a burden--but once she produced a yellow glass bottle and a deck of cards and told him she bet that she was going to beat his sorry ass, he caved.

She started with a heavy lead, but once Draco learned the rules and strategies of the slightly convoluted Go Fish game, he proved to be a worthy match. They played until around 11:45 when the bottle was about 3/4 full and Y/N was feeling the pleasant warmth of being slightly intoxicated. Once she noticed the time, she threw her cards on the table. 

“Let’s watch the ball drop,” Y/N said with no further explanation, even when Draco looked to her for one. She grabbed the bottle and his hand, pulling him up the stairs to her room. The remote control for her TV was a struggle to find--it was all the way tucked back in her nightstand drawer--but thankfully the channel was already set. 

“You forgot the cups,” Draco said, staring down at the opened bottle held in his hand.

“You can get them if you want,” she managed.

“You should! You forgot them.”

“Too far,” she whined, flopping to lean back on her pillows while Draco followed suit. His hair smelled like peppermint. Without much more thought, she moved close enough that their shoulders were touching. He didn’t move away--instead, he lifted the bottle to his lips and took a drink directly. 

“Your New Year’s traditions are weird as fuck,” he murmured as he watched Savannah Guthrie on the screen. He didn’t have to speak very loud for her to hear him, and it seemed like he knew this.

“Oh, you haven’t even heard it all yet,” said Y/N. “We’ve got a tradition to kiss someone going into the New Year. New Year’s kiss, I guess. I’m sure you can imagine the kind of drama that creates.”

“What d’you mean?”

“You don’t have to be dating to kiss someone, sometimes people just...do it. As friends.” Y/N reached over to the bottle and took a swig herself, feeling the warmth trickle down her throat.

“Take it easy,” he tutted, pulling the bottle away from her before taking another drink himself. 

“Hey! Says you!”

“Because I can actually hold my liquor well,” he teased, giving her a shove.

“The fuck are you talking about?”

“You just kept getting worse and worse at whatever that game was,” he told her matter-of-factly.

“Give it here,” she said, reaching across his chest to where he was holding the bottle, out and above his head. She hoped he couldn’t tell how much this side of him filled her with glee. “That’s not fair!”

“Not fair, huh?” He raised an eyebrow and met her eyes as he held it up even further into the air. His voice was startlingly low. “So what are you gonna do about it?”

Before she could muster up a response, the TV began playing the audio for the New Year’s Countdown.

10!

Y/N wasn’t sure if she was supposed to answer--or if he was just...flirting?

9!

He managed to set the bottle on her nightstand without taking his eyes off of her.

8!

The hand she had used to reach across him with was now pressed into his side of the bed, supporting her as she hovered over him.

7!

Without moving any part of her body, she dared to glance at his parted lips.

6!

Maybe telling him about the kiss tradition was a stupid idea.

5!

His hand, warm and soft,  reached up to brush a piece of hair away from her cheekbone. 

4! 

His fingers lingered on the outline of her jaw.

3!

2!

1!

He was kissing her before the cheers from the TV even had the chance to bounce around the room, both hands cupping her face and pulling her in so desperately that it took her breath away.

Her hands found his shoulders, then the back of his neck, and then, eventually his hair. It was just as soft as she imagined it to be. They started out innocently enough--closed mouth kisses and only their hands touching each other above the shoulders--but once she tugged on his hair (mostly by accident) something...shifted. 

Suddenly he was on top of her, and suddenly her leg was wrapped around him as he tilted his head, deepening the kiss. It occurred to her that this was no longer just a New Year’s kiss. He tasted of lemon and sugar--and was notably better at what he was doing than any of the people she’d kissed before. Or maybe it was the alcohol clouding her judgement. Regardless, she liked whatever was going on. His hands had drifted from her face to her neck to her hair to her shoulder, gently tracing the outline of her bra strap. She brushed her hand down his chest, pulling gently at the collar on his shirt. Only when his leg pressed up into her and her breath hitched did she realize the weight of their situation.

The way he pulled away to hover over her signaled that he’d had the same revelation, his eyes wide as he stared down at her. “Um…”

“Yeah?” Dread crept into her despite the pleasant haze she was in. 

He swallowed, hard. “I can’t believe I did that.”

Draco was on the other side of the bed in seconds, wringing his hands and keeping his eyes fixed on her floor. “Oh, my god, I can’t believe I did that. I’m sorry. I’m drunk and I’m not thinking straight. I’m so sorry.”

“Is something wrong?” She didn’t know if he wanted her to touch him, but she wanted so badly to place a steadying hand on his shoulder. “Did you not want...it?”

He scoffed and turned his gaze up to the ceiling. “I had too much to drink. I’m sorry.”

“Oh.” Y/N felt the blood drain from her face as she fell back on the bed.

That’s all it was. A drunken mistake. 

Tears pricked at her eyes as she surveyed her options. Despite the fact that she was drunk off her ass, she knew she couldn’t just tell him to leave without making her feelings clear. She never explicitly told him that she wanted him and it wasn’t like she moaned his name or anything--thank god--but what other option did she have? She didn’t want to cry in front of him, and if he stayed in her room any longer he would without a doubt witness her alcohol induced cry fest. 

NBC finally switched to ads, and Y/N granted herself permission to mourn the fact that Flo from Progressive would forever be ruined for her. 

It was dark enough for her to quickly reach up and wipe her eyes undetected, granting her enough confidence to sit up and look at him directly. “You don’t get to just...kiss me like that. I hope you know that.”

“I know,” he said. His hands were clasped tightly together and rested on his nose. “Fuck. Of course I know.”

“But you can tell me you meant it to be just as friends,” she told him, hoping he couldn’t see how hard she was fighting back a new wave of tears. 

“As friends,” he repeated, his tone flat. 

“As friends,” she said. 

“I don’t think either of us are daft enough to believe that.” 

Her stomach twisted. “What do you mean?”

“Maybe things are different in America, but I don’t see you doing that sort of thing with Lizzy.”

“We can forget about this. It’s fine. I know you regret it.”

He exhaled, his breath long and shaky. “I didn’t stop because I regretted it.”

“Then why did you?”

“Because…”

“Is it because I’m a muggle?” His silence was everything she needed for an answer. “Okay. I had a feeling.”

“Y/N, it’s not like...I don’t know how to explain it.” He still wouldn’t make eye contact with her. “I just don’t know what to do.”

“About what?” 

“About this!” he said, dramatically gesturing to her. “About everything!”

“I don’t understand.” The tears began pricking in the corners of her eyes again despite her best efforts. 

Draco finally looked at her. She was shocked by how genuinely distressed he looked--the last time he looked at her like this, she’d been laying on the ground outside of the antique sore. “I don’t expect you to.”

His tone was low, careful. He was holding back.

“Can you just tell me how you feel about me, then? Just so I know?”

“It’s not that--” He stopped himself, sucking in another breath before he continued. “I shouldn’t. It’s not right of me.” He groaned, flopping onto his back and covering his face. “This wasn’t supposed to happen.”

“Hey,” Y/N said, reaching out to awkwardly pat his shoulder. “I meant it when I said that we could just forget about it. We’re friends, Draco. Just friends. I know you didn’t mean it. Let’s just pretend this never happened, ok?”

He was quiet for a bit before responding. “Did you...want me to kiss you? Did I make you uncomfortable?”

“Uncomfortable?”

“As in, did you want me to stop?”

“Oh.” Y/N cracked her knuckles. “You didn’t violate me if you’re asking to gauge how guilty you should be.” 

“I’m glad to hear that, but that’s not why I’m asking.”

“Okay,” she said simply. He was still laying in her bed, and she hated the fact that her bed was going to smell like him until she washed everything. 

“So?” He raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t answer.”

“We’re friends, Draco.” She sent him a weak smile as she repeated her previous sentiment. “I trust you, so you didn’t make me uncomfortable.” 

She was aware of the fact that her sentence didn’t exactly track, but she wasn’t particularly concerned with the literary quality of her speech.

“That still doesn’t answer my other question.”

“I…” She felt her throat dry up. “I want--I wanted you to kiss me. I’ve wanted you to kiss me for a while now.” 

At this, he finally sat up and looked her in the eyes. She thought she could see the briefest glint of relief pass over his face before he managed to rein it back to a neutral expression.

“Did you want to kiss me?”

“I was the one who kissed you, not the other way around, yeah?”

“That still doesn’t answer my question,” she snipped, hoping he caught on to her mocking. She’d missed sparring with him. 

“Yes, I kissed you because I wanted to, not for some weird ulterior motive,” he responded, rolling his eyes despite the fact that his cheeks were clearly very pink, even in her dimly lit room. “Though I agree it’s best if we just stayed friends.”

“Yeah.” She felt her face fall, but she managed to catch it before she looked too devastated. “It’s all water under the bridge. Now we know not to drink together again.”

“That too.” He shifted, clearing his throat before making eye contact with her again with an uncharacteristically soft expression. “But the damage is already done, I suppose?”

“I suppose,” she echoed. “You wanted to kiss me? Actually?”

“Should we really talk about this? After what we just said about staying friends?”

“We’re going to feel regret tomorrow morning no matter what we do now, “ said Y/N. “Might as well.”

He smiled one of his rare smiles--the ones where his eyes went all soft and he dipped his head to hide it. “Yes. I really do. Want to kiss you, that is.”

“I really want you to kiss me,” she blurted out before slapping her hand over her mouth in shock. “Fuck. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that out loud.” 

His smile morphed into more of a smirk as he crept closer, his hand resting on top of her knee. “So can I do it again?”

“Draco…” She sighed.

“The damage is already done,” he repeated as he reached his hand up to brush a lock of her hair behind her ear, his fingers dragging down her neck. The smug look that formed on his face after she drew a quick breath in confirmed that he knew what he was doing, that fucker. “You said it yourself--we’re just friends.”

“I’m going to hate myself in the morning if I say yes.”

 Draco’s hand drifted over her jaw, his thumb pausing to trace over her bottom lip. “You can hate me instead.” 

This time, it didn’t surprise her so much when he leaned in. He was notably less desperate, taking time to draw breaths in between kisses and lacing his fingers through hers, squeezing. Once he seemed satisfied, he lifted her chin and brushed the hair away from her neck, kissing down from her jaw to her collarbone. She shivered, and he drew her closer by wrapping his arms around her until she was sitting on his lap.

“Wow, you’re such a good friend, Draco,” she managed to joke. She could feel the smirk that formed on his lips as it passed over her clavicle.

 “Shut up.” His teeth grazed over her delicate skin before he sucked, eliciting a gasp from her. She could feel him smile again. 

His hands teased the bottom hemline of her sweater, his fingers tangling in the fabric but not moving it. She sucked in a breath, feeling his hands ghost over her skin. 

“Are you okay with…”

“Yes!” The answer came out much quicker than she would’ve liked, but the grin on Draco’s face made it completely worth the momentary embarrassment as he helped her out of the thick cable-knit sweater. “Now is your chance to dote on me and tell me how beautiful I am. As a friend, of course.”

“You stole the words right out of my mouth,” he said. He looked like he was positively glowing as she smiled and leaned in to kiss him, slow and deep. His hands found her back and hesitated over her bra clasp.

Before he had a chance to do anything, Y/N started fiddling with the buttons on his white shirt, successfully undoing the first two before she noticed that Draco had frozen completely.

“Is something wrong?”

“Kind of,” he said. “Maybe...not now, okay?”

“I had a feeling that was too much,” she admitted, reaching for her top before realizing he’d tossed it across her bedroom floor and suddenly feeling very exposed.

“It’s not that…” he said, trailing off. “I just...should probably tell you some things before my shirt comes off. And I don’t think tonight is the best time for that.”

“Oh.” Y/N tried to make herself look like she understood whatever he was on about. “Yeah, of course. Oh! Is it about that tattoo you tried to gaslight me into believing didn’t exist?”

“Y/N!” he exclaimed. “I didn’t gaslight you!”

“Here you go again,” she huffed. “I rest my case.” 

“And I am not getting into that now,” he said. “I didn’t want to talk about it for very good reason.” 

She reached up to his shoulders, dragging her fingertips over his collarbones and watching as he gazed up at her. “That’s okay. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

The corners of his lips turned up at this, and she took the opportunity to press a chaste kiss on the edge of his mouth. “I think we should go to sleep. We have enough material to regret for tomorrow at this point. Any more and I think we’ll be getting greedy, so--”

Draco cut her off with one last kiss, his fingers splayed out across her back, pulling her impossibly close before finally releasing her.

“Agreed.” He let out a sigh before sliding her off him and standing up to grab her runaway sweater. “Do you want to sleep in this? Or do you want me to get you something else from your dresser while I’m up?”

“Um…” She was frozen at the prospect of him watching her change clothes. “Probably something else. Top left drawer--just pick whatever.”

He sifted through her piles of random T-shirts before settling on one with the UChicago logo and tossing it to her. 

Y/N pulled it over her head, grateful for the fact that he wasn’t staring at her with only a black lace bra that barely did its job. 

“So, uh, I think I should probably go then,” he said. 

She fought the urge to ask him to stay. “Yeah, that’d be best.”

His mouth opened like he was about to say something, but he closed it and frowned. “So I guess this is goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Draco,” she replied. “I’ll look forward to agonizing over this in the morning.”

Once the sounds of his footsteps heading down the hall faded, she finally allowed herself to flop back onto her now Draco-scented sheets.

What the fuck just happened.

final a/n: hellooooooo ! it finally happened! i hope this didn’t seem rushed or unnatural to you guys but like. it’s been over 30k words and i thought you guys deserved something. yes i am going to be leaning into the whole “we’re just friends” trope while definitely not being just friends. yes i am going to drag astoria into this i’m excited i hope yall enjoyed

[sorcererinthestars]

I’ve been attracted to the idea of the Fakes all holding some sort of elemental or energy powers. (Maybe this is because it’s been so gray and I’ve been thinking of the warm ones... hah!) I put this together while bored at work - I’d love to see what you guys think! Geoff: I see him being able to interact with shadows. He is not necessarily in control of night and of blackness more totally, but those gray areas where light can’t quite touch. He is often seen with more than one shadow and he can call them out to do things for him, almost like having doppelgangers with no faces at his beck and call. He can blind enemies with his shadows, blend in, and even make them semi-solid to hold people or trigger objects. When he wants to hide, he can become shadow-like himself, semi-spectral and transparent. Jack: Jack has plant magic. (If you’ve ever seen Sky High, consider her elemental control like the main girl there.) She can command plants. Normally she’s peaceful, not liking to use her powers for the more... diabolical parts of her life. Human weapons are far more effective for that, she insists, using her powers instead to nurture her multiple houseplants into lushness or care for the street plants of Los Santos. But when threatened and in danger, her powers can become vicious. She can have vines smash through windows and restrain enemies, she can grow plants and trees through her victims, she can choke and restrain and maim. Don’t underestimate Jack just because she tries to be peaceful. She has one of the most brutal magics of them all. Michael: Michael has fire magic for sure. The problem with him is learning to control it and manifest it properly without collateral damage. He’s burnt his loved ones too many times to count and it’s made him somewhat frightened of using his abilities until Geoff sits down and works with him on it. His power is obvious destruction - he can burn down buildings, create raging infernos - but also life and light. He can cradle small flames in his palms, light up dark areas, and provide warmth and heat when they don’t have it. Geoff constantly reassures Michael that his powers aren’t just for death and destruction, don’t need to hurt and burn his lovers as well as his enemies. It’s life. It’s warmth. It’s protection.

Gavin: If Geoff is shadow, Gavin is light. His powers are remarkable, contained in such a slight form. He glows slightly all the time, a side effect he cannot shut off. The Golden Boy image is an extension of that. When he is excited, he lights up like a Christmas tree, glowing and shining. But when he’s mad, his eyes go liquid white and light just streams out of all his orifices'. He blinds. He scalds. He burns from the inside out, power radiating out of every pore. When he’s mad, he’s not human, he’s some otherworldly creature ripped from some part of heaven. Jeremy: J is stone. He can manipulate rock, break it, crush it, move it. His personality is as rock (hehe) solid as his element, warm and steady even as he is shoved around in the craziness of the job that they do. He’s pretty unchangeable in his opinions and steadfast in his loyalties and provides a good counterpoint for his two hotheaded companions - as they melt and overheat, he is a steady presence to keep them grounded. But god forbid if you get him angry. He can crush rocks beneath your feet, slam enemies with boulders, crush and hit until bones are just dust beneath his feet. He is extremely strong even without using his command and almost unbreakable. Unfortunately, even like stone, there is a point where they will break under the pressure - good thing his family is there to pick up the pieces. -

Fiona: As breezy and lighthearted as she is, Fiona is wind. She blows around, flitting and jumping between interests as if she’s a leaf tossed and turned on the breeze. Airy and flighty, she’s always quick for a laugh and a good time. But her powers aren’t just for blowing hair around or teasingly causing minor chaos knocking things off shelves - she can steal the air from a person’s lungs, call down typhoons that can level small buildings and rip cars off the street, blow enemies off their feet and away, hurl things and cause massive, devastating amounts of destruction. The first person who underestimated FiFi was the first one to die. Alfredo: Fluid and adaptable, Alfredo is water. He goes with the flow, easy-going and ready for anything. Normally he’s the first one for a good laugh, trying not to take the world so seriously as some of his compatriots do. He and Michael tend to get on head to heads a lot, but they also grow close, as Alfredo is one of the only people Michael trusts to practice his fire around. While preferring his trusty sniper to get the job done, Alfredo isn’t just a man of rivers and streams. He can cause typhoons, manipulate the water in someone’s blood to make them do what he wants them to do, can freeze water into daggers that rip a man from toe to tip. Fredo is always a man ready for a laugh, but god forbid that fury comes out. Trevor: If Gavin is the manifestation of liquid light, Trevor is night. He bonds with Geoff, which is likely what gets him the job as the day to day frontrunner of the Fakes. He is secretive and quiet when he’s not dominating the show. While he’s happy go lucky as much as any of the others, there’s a quiet darkness somewhere around his soul. And when his powers are activated, he bubbles up with dark energy similar to Gavin’s light. He can plunge a room into pure blackness, he can suck the warmth out of people, he can blind and freeze. But his darkness can also be warmth and protection, cloaking those he loves in dark to keep them from menacing eyes. Matt: Matt is electricity. A man with lightning behind his eyes, he can and will shock all who underestimate him. While normally quiet and arguably lazy, he can keep going for hours, run on his own eternal battery that never goes out. His power source is in his soul, making sleep almost unnecessary. To avoid power surges and other dangerous phenomenon, he tries to keep himself mellow, but if he does get mad, watch out. Lightning storms are common around an irate Matt Bragg, sparks leaping from one finger top to another. He can fry electronics with a hand, overload breakers, steal power from any object that runs from electricity. He can be zapped and never feel it and woe betide you if he touches you with that current in his body - hearts can’t take Matt Bragg. Lindsay: Lindsay is both as slippery and steadfast as metal. Like mercury or quicksilver, she can melt metal with a touch of her hand, molding and shaping it into whatever she wants, as well as being able to rip it down and create walls and protective barriers for her friends and family. While enjoying being a menace by bending guns, breaking locks, or otherwise causing minor damage, she’s normally the fastest one to fix broken devices and remove damage. She’s normally booked solid fixing dents and scratches in the boys’ cars. As with the others, though, horrors unfold for those who make her mad or threaten those she loves - she will incase you in a metallic tomb and watch as you die.

[songofwizardry]

long critical role thoughts post time again! spoilers for c2e136 under the cut. also it's been like six weeks since I last did this, damn. moving house will do that to you.

so like of all the abilities for the two humans to get, I will say getting darkvision is a pretty good one

okay so I feel like fandom figured out that Caleb had seen the Traveller the last couple times, but sorry. the WEASEL. artagan is fucking SPRINKLE? that I. did not see coming. at fucking all.

says a lot about this episode that this reveal stopped being the focus so quickly holy shit a lot happens

oh AND telepathic communication! I was expecting this possibility, but I was really surprised by how well it was done/how cool I found it.

love Caleb's 31 arcana check

"transmutation merged with dunamancy... with elements of temporal alteration" right so at this point I was just :o all the way

and the Primal Artifact is the Luxon, right? cool cool cool

way back, I remember Caleb's research and him saying that maybe Aeor had time travel magic. I also remember Beau's theorising about the Luxon coming from Aeor. I was FULLY not expecting both those fucking theories to be confirmed so fully in this arc!!! what the fuck Matt!!

also this is the second or third time the wizards have had cool magic bonding time (TM) in Aeor and I love it.

Jester: "does that mean what I think it means? is he coming on to you?" / Caleb: "what do you think it means?" / "I think he's coming on to you!" / "... it's complicated." y'all my shadowgast heart is THRIVING

love how Veth keeps suggesting marine layer right now, and within a little while they are going to be surrounded by entirely natural fog

the entire CHAOS plan of throwing the cellabone/using mage hand/not using mage hand/just walking away is peak D&D

the intuit charge took me COMPLETELY by surprise, but holy shit, such a good move. also, I had completely not grasped just how much damage those deal when they were previously talking about them/using them against the tomb takers! seeing Matt roll for that damage was very revealing (and fuckin terrifying)

also made me realise that using them against the tomb takers was a brilliant idea, you go mighty nein

I don't know the stats for the intuit charges, but I was very relieved that they could be dispelled with a fourth level. I was very concerned that it wouldn't be the case

aaaand Lucien is here!

veth: "here's my plan, we're all cows." I mean, sheep-leb did happen so close enough?

Lucien is a smooooth charismatic fucker. like, he's such a good smooth talker cult-leader asshole archetype, and I am really enjoying how he's played.

the TWITCH at "circus man" what is going on Matthew Mercer??? I need to know!

I was... actually quite surprised that Lucien didn't set off the intuit charges as he left, or close the portal, or something. like, what is his game here? does he really just want an 'audience' that bad? or did he need to get back through the portal and so couldn't close it?

idk how travel in the astral sea works but I'm assuming there's a reason he had to get through a portal buried deep in a dangerous ruin, and not just show up in the astral sea another way

idk I was just expecting the other shoe to drop, not really expecting Lucien to flat out invite them to follow and be his audience... but upon thinking about it, that's sorta been his style through the whole thing, hasn't it?

aand fighting an elemental!

the sheep puns were the best tbh, as was the image of a sheep floating through the astral sea

it's also really fun to see Essek in combat and get a better idea of what his capabilities are

I was fully expecting the episode to end with them just being in the astral sea, but NOPE we get a fucking chilling description of Cognouza, AND we get creepy voices in Beau and Caleb's heads!

they are in the literal astral sea y'all I have no idea where we go from here but I am very hyped. the next episode is gonna be something huh.

[wrenhyperfixates]

Of All the Places

Chapter 6

Pairing: Loki x reader Series Summary: Washing up in a small town in Oklahoma was definitely not part of Loki’s plan when he came to conquer Midgard. There is one good thing about it, though: No one recognizes him as the one who just wreaked havoc in New York. So, Loki plans to recover from the battle and move on with his life. The only problem? He’s not sure he can leave you. Chapter Summary: The TVs at the farm are finally working again, and there is troubling news. Just not the kind Loki was expecting. Unfortunately, it puts the youngest member of the family in danger. Chapter Warnings: like one curse word A/N: Updates every Friday. Enjoy :)

Tag List: @lucywrites02 @frostedgiantfavs​​ @lunarmoon8​ @twhiddlestonsstuff​

✥ Start at Beginning ✥ | ← Previous Chapter | Next Chapter →

Disclaimer: Gif not mine

“Great job, son,” Papa said, clapping Loki on the back. “Much better than the last time.”

“Yes, I do believe these have come out quite well,” he boasted, stacking the pancakes on a plate.

“Earl,” Mama angrily whispered, pulling Papa aside. “You let him cook again? I hope you were watching to make sure he didn’t put anything in there.”

“Honey, you worry too much,” Papa soothed her. “He didn’t put nothing in but the ingredients.”

“Besides love and care, that is,” Loki chimed in, flashing an overly charming smile over his shoulder.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” she sassed right back. “I just came to tell you the cable’s back.”

“Finally!” Papa exclaimed. “I know we’re out of the way, but two weeks is ridiculous.”

“Two and a half actually,” you corrected, walking in. “And yes, completely. That smells really good, Loki.”

“Thank you,” he said, blushing a little.

The two of you stared at each for a minute, smiling widely, the plate of freshly made pancakes in between you. It wasn’t until Mama rolled her eyes and groaned that either of you came to your senses. You cleared your throat and averted your eyes, grabbing the plate and setting it on the table. Loki didn’t look away until you turned around and saw his gaze was still upon you. He sighed to himself, realizing he was totally whipped. Trying to clear his mind, he shook his head and was struck with a terrifying thought.

“You have not happened to watch anything yet, have you?” Loki ventured, trying to sound casual. “Like, say, the news.”

“No, not yet. Why?” Mama asked, her voice laced with suspicion.

“Oh, no reason, really. Just curious.”

“I see. Well, how ‘bout I go turn it on now?”

She rushed out of the room, Loki hot on her heels, trying to cut her off. His long legs gave him the advantage, but she was able to seize the remote before he could block her. He stopped moving and tried to look as nonchalant as possible, tucking a stray piece of hair behind his ear.

“What was it you said now? Was it the news?” Mama wondered aloud in a taunting manner. “Ah, yes. That’s it for sure. Why? Worried they’ll be spilling all your dirty little secrets?”

“I have no idea what you mean,” he drawled as she flipped to the channel. “It seems you have forgotten, but I have lost my memory. I have nothing to hide.”

“We’ll see about that.”

“Everything alright out here?” you questioned, appearing in the doorway.

“Yes, it’s all fine,” Loki quickly shooed you away, hoping that at least if his past was about to be exposed, he wouldn’t have to see your face when you found out.

“Splendid. In fact-” Mama cut off, dropping the remote. “Earl! Get in here!”

Loki’s heart was going a mile a minute. He could only assume that she’d seen the truth about him, and he was already calling out to the Tesseract, knowing it would allow him to get farther away than just his magic would. Putting as much distance between himself and everyone on the farm would be for the best for all involved. His heart, he was sure, would take severe damages, but what was one more fracture in something already so shattered and broken?

“Mama?” you asked in a panic. “What is it?”

“Tornado warning. Fifteen, maybe twenty minutes at most. It’s usually one of the calmer months, so it may be nothing. No such thing as too cautious, though.”

“You’re right,” Papa said, rushing in. He took a deep breath before pointing at you and giving directions. “We’ll go get Ana, John, and Matt. You grab the emergency bags, honey.”

“Wait,” Loki said, grabbing your wrist, feeling a little guilty that he was actually relieved. “What can I do to help?”

“Just help Mama carry some blankets and lanterns and stuff. I’ll see you in a few minutes,” you finished with a nervous smile, trying to sound brave.

He nodded at you before letting you go. For once, he exchanged no scathing looks or remarks with Mama. Instead, he stood with a stoic expression as she loaded up his arms with supplies. She grabbed the last bag with shaking hands, and led the way to the storm cellar. As the seconds ticked by, Mama started praying to every god that there may be in the universe that you would all make it to the cellar in time. Loki paced as he realized there was a god hearing her pleas right at this very minute, and he’d do everything in his power to answer them.

“We’re here,” you announced, walking in with John.

About a minute later, Papa appeared with Ana, whose face immediately fell when she noticed the missing member of the family. “Where’s Matt?” she asked.

Though she appeared calm, Loki heard the panic creeping into her voice. He felt his own chest tighten at the thought of his little friend out there and in danger.

“Wasn’t he with you?” John said.

“He was, but he wanted to go to you. It was such a short walk, I thought he would have reached you already. Oh god!” she suddenly cried out, rushing to the door only to be held back by Papa. “My baby! My baby’s out there! Let me go! I have to get to him. I have to. I have to.”

She continued screaming those words over and over, a hysterical mess, losing what precious little time they had. It was complete chaos, something even Loki didn’t enjoy in the given context.

“You stay,” John ordered. “I’ll go.”

“If you go out there, you’ll die,” Papa tried to reason, though his voice was shaking with emotion. “You know the rules. We can’t risk going out and losing more lives.”

“He is my son, Earl. What do you suggest I do, huh? Leave him to die?”

Papa passed the sobbing, thrashing mess that was Ana over to you as he switched to keeping John at bay. Mama had fallen to her knees, once again saying rushed prayers for her family. Taking the room in, Loki made up his mind.

“I’ll go,” he declared, sprinting out the cellar door.

“Son, are you crazy?” Papa called after him, hands too full to stop him.

“Quite possibly, yes” he shouted back, still running.

“Loki!” you screamed. “Loki, come back! It’s too dangerous.”

He saw you try to go after him, but Mama had come out of her trancelike prayers and panic a bit and was now gripping both you and your sister tightly to her chest. It was, he thought, the most motherly thing he’d ever seen the woman do. Now that he was outside, Loki understood why Papa was so adamant no one else go out. The twister was visible in the distance and rapidly approaching.

“Matt,” Loki called over the whipping wind, cupping his hands around his mouth in the hopes it would help the boy hear him. “Little one, where are you?”

He raced through the fields, trying to find the small child. He worried momentarily that the wind had already swept the small boy away. Worst case scenario, Loki would have to use his magic. Stopping the tornado altogether might be a bit too much for him to handle. He’d never really been taught elemental magic all too much. A shield was perhaps more feasible, but he’d have to keep it up for so long over such a wide expanse that he he wasn’t sure he could actually hold it. Perhaps if he used a sonar spell, he’d be able to find Matt in the fields, though that wasn’t really his specialty, either. As he called out again, he was growing desperate, and kept running until he heard a voice.

“Matt, you must be louder. Where are you?”

“Loki! Loki! It’s a tornado!”

“I know,” he said, moving toward the source of the call. “I know, but do not worry. We will be fine.”

He finally reached where Matt was, and picked him up, immediately turning back in the direction he’d just come from. Even with his godly speed and tireless ability, he knew he’d never make it back in time. He gently pressed Matt’s head into his shoulder so that the boy’s eyes were obscured. Then he used his magic to teleport a few feet away from the cellar door. He ripped them open and brought the child in.

Every eye in the room looked at him in disbelief, most of them also teary and red. They all knew how far out Matt was and had been prepared to lose two souls that day. Then, like someone hit the play button, you all started moving at once. Ana was sobbing again as she took Matt in her arms, and John was holding back tears as he hugged his wife and child. He mouthed thank you to Loki, feeling beyond grateful to him, but still too frenzied to do much else. Mama was saying prayers again, though this time ones of gratitude and praise. Papa shook Loki’s hand before pulling him into a hug. Though he hadn’t had the best first impression of the man, Loki had grown to like him, and accepted the congratulatory and thankful embrace with a smile. You were the last to approach him, and his heart beat faster than it had the entire time he was running.

“You saved him,” you whispered, pushing a lock of windswept hair out of his face as a single tear fell down your cheek. “Loki. You saved him.”

“Darling, it was nothing. You need not mention it.”

“You know what, fuck ‘possibly crazy.’ You definitely are. Don’t brush this off,” you pressed. “This is a big deal. This family couldn’t afford to lose anyone else.”

He could tell from the pain in your eyes that you were thinking of your brother. He hadn’t meant to do anything viewed as so heroic, something that would earn him so much praise, but besides caring about you, he cared about Matt, too. Heck, he cared about the whole family.

“In that case,” he conceded, “you are most welcome.”

He cupped your tear-stained cheeks in his large hands and pressed his forehead to yours. For a second, it was as if all the other commotion in the room faded away, and it was just the two of you, hearts beating in synch. That moment ended, however, when Papa approached you and laid a hand on Loki’s shoulder.

“Why don’t ya get some rest, son,” he suggested. “You ran mighty far, and there’s nothing to do but wait now, anyway.”

“Thank you,” he said, pulling away from you. “I think I will do just that.”

In reality, he wasn’t even really winded at all, but he had to keep up the appearance of a mortal man. So, he retreated to a corner and settled himself down in some blankets and pillows. His frost giant genes always had made him run cold, and he appreciated the warmth. Even more so, when you came over to sit with him, and he extended some of the fleecy material for you to sit under, too. Though, Loki made sure not to sit too close, lest his brain conjure up any silly fantasies about being with you as anything more than a friend.

“It occurred to me,” you started after a few minutes, “that you actually saved all of us.”

“Whatever do you mean?”

“Well, we never would have turned on the news in time if it hadn’t been for you,” you explained. “You keep saying that you’re the lucky one that we took you in, but you know what? I think we’re the really lucky ones to have you here. At least, it’s lucky for me. I know it hasn’t been that long, Loki, but I honestly don’t think my life would have been the same, been complete, if I hadn’t met you. Though, saying that out loud, I hear how crazy I sound.”

“Nonsense. Have you already forgotten that I am the crazy one?”

You laughed and squeezed his hand, which you’d grabbed at some point during your speech. He felt that all too familiar blush color his cheeks again. After a moment of consideration, he closed the distance between you so that your legs were pressed against each other. His body was, however, rather stiff since he was not entirely sure of himself. You went a little rigid, too, at the unexpected contact, but relaxed a bit after a minute or two.  

“I know we still know next to nothing about who you used to be,” you said, “but whoever that was, you must have been a hero.”

He offered you a false smile before quickly turning away. Let’s hope, he thought, that they never have to find out just how wrong they truly are.

[specterchasing-a]

Down, boy! || Eddie & Bea

TIMING: Current-ish

PARTIES: @beatrice-blaze​ & @specterchasing​

LOCATION: Illusions of Grandeur

SUMMARY: Eddie literally runs from his problems and Bea talks some sense into him.

CONTENT WARNINGS: Suicidal ideations tw, sibling death tw.

The shops and faces lining ‘Freak Alley’ flew by in colorful blurs as Eddie’s feet slapped against the sidewalk. An over-the-shoulder glance let him know that the hellhound he attracted at a nearby cemetery was gaining on him. Its size led him to believe he’d somehow lucked out and stumbled upon a runt, or perhaps a pup if hellhounds underwent adolescence. Eddie didn’t know and, in the moment, he frankly didn’t care; it could clearly still breathe fire.

Wicked heat kissed the soles of his shoes and Eddie’s next step became more of a leap. “Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck, oh, fuck, oh, fuck,” he chanted as he darted across the street. Panic set it, but it wasn’t the sole cause of Eddie’s heart beating at break-kneck speed. A laugh erupted from his chest. He liked the threat of imminent danger. No thrill on earth matched the anxious euphoria of knowing his next breath might be his last. A hellhound would make for an interesting obituary, at least, even if the local paper reduced it to an errant wolf.

Eddie skidded to a halt in front of a building, he didn’t bother to stop and read any signage that might tell him the name of his safe haven. His hand gripped the door and  flung it open. Once inside, he pressed his back against the entrance to hopefully stop the hellhound from entering with force. Unfortunately, the dimwitted beast didn’t get the memo that it wasn’t welcome and launched its body against the door with considerable vigor once, twice…

Members of the crowd turned their heads toward the commotion. Apparently, Eddie was interrupting some kind of show. His eyes snapped to the stage, landing on an unexpectedly familiar face. “Nell’s sister? I thought she was in—” 

Three times.

Eddie’s thoughts were interrupted when the impact of the hellhound's small, but dense, body threw the door open. The force sent him forward and into the crowd, albeit face-down on the floor. Eddie scrambled to his feet as a few of the crowd members shrieked at the sudden introduction of a wild beast. Chaos ensued as people scattered in search of an emergency exit. Eddie whipped around in time to see flames billowing from the dog’s mouth. A few seats, recently abandoned, caught fire.

In an attempt to rectify his mistake, Eddie bolted in the direction of a fire extinguisher. A moment later, the sprinkler system kicked on, drenching everyone in sight. Eddie marched closer to the hellhound and attacked it with a stream of white froth. “Fuck off!” he commanded as the beast caught a mouthful of foul chemicals. It reared back, whining as its head thrashed from side to side. But Eddie’s bright idea didn’t deter it for long. The hound stumbled forward and prepared for another attack.

Freedom was a nasty concept to Beatrice. As a child, picking flowers and stealing moments with Leah was freedom. Teenaged Bea had found parties she snuck out to were freedom. Before she died, freedom had been her secrets, she had held freedom in clenched hands, hidden from her coven and family. Now, she had died and come back, her secrets revealed and discovered. Her freedom was not her secrets any longer, so what was it? 

She had thought the stage was freedom until death and rebirth. It became a cage, a spectacle that could be used to see how different she had become. Deciding to reclaim it, to allow everyone to see who she was now, that tasted like an early summer morning. It had the stillness before a busy day, it had a moment of peace in it. It tasted like the beginnings of freedom, a taste she had begun to remember and enjoy in New York. 

It did not taste like smoke, a flavor that had snuck into her mouth as she performed. Smoke had no place in her show now, not now that she couldn’t control the flames. Her element was no longer fire and smoke was no longer a flavor she could feel safe tasting. She was off the stage and stalking forward to the Hellhound as people rushed out of the theater. 

She recognized the man in front of the hellhound vaguely, though she had no idea how. He was trying to smother the beast with a fire extinguisher and Bea couldn’t help but roll her eyes. Of course this is how her first performance since Adam would be. 

Her shadows leapt out, tightening around the beast mouth, clamping it shut as others worked around it’s paws. “What the hell were you thinking bringing this into my business?” She’d have to call Nell to help her with this.

Eddie watched in startled wonderment as shadows turned themselves into shackles around the hellhound’s paws. A muzzle of the same making wrapped around its jaws while it struggled against its newfound restraints. Smoke seeped out of the muzzle, but the fire was contained for the time being. Magic, he figured. Not cheap illusions, but actual magic. 

He jumped at the sound of Beatrice’s voice demanding his attention.  Eddie already felt guilty before she spoke, now the feeling consumed him. He turned to face her with an apologetic expression. As far as he could tell, they were the only two people remaining inside the venue. No one would be around to see him be reprimanded, at least.

“It chased me,” Eddie explained with a helpless shrug. “What was I supposed to do, die in the street?” For someone who wanted to say he was sorry, the words didn’t come to him. He hated that about himself, the way he instinctively took a defensive stance when he felt cornered. 

The crashing realization that Nell might still be too ill to handle this hit Bea hard and fast. It was like a softball to the stomach as she remembered how grief could hurt a person’s magic, Nell could struggle to control this Hellhound and who was Bea to ask her sister to try to after everything happened? She would have to attempt to deal with herself and if it was too much, then she would call Nell.

The face of an apology with defense on their lips was something Bea was intimately familiar with. She had been that way, she occasionally was still that way, and while the familiarity softened her, a scowl had already found its way onto her face. “That is not at all what I said or implied.” Her arm swung out behind her, “This is the place you decided to run in. Did you see how many people were in here? What would the plan have been if I wasn’t here? Let the people here burn and hope for the best?” She didn’t know this man, but that didn’t stop her scolding tone. “How did you even get chased by a Hellhound?”

With each question Bea asked him, Eddie’s guilt worsened. He never meant to hurt anyone, but he seemed to be paving the road to hell with his good intentions as of late. Regardless of what he did, it usually turned out to be a wrong move. For the moment, he elected to put his pity party on the back-burner. Bea didn’t know him and she likely wouldn’t harbor much sympathy for a grown man who nearly cost dozens of innocent people their lives. For that, he couldn’t blame her.

“I was, uh, at the cemetery down the road apiece,” he answered her most recent question, pointing his thumb in the direction he came from. “It was just kinda hanging out and didn’t like that I was too.” Eddie failed to mention that he tried to film it, and that he whistled for its attention in an attempt to get a clear shot of its face. The camera he used wound up as a substitute chew toy after it slipped out of his hand mid-sprint. 

“I tried to hold the doors shut,” he ventured. “If you weren’t here, I—” Eddie’s gaze fell to the fire extinguisher in his hand. What a joke. “Yeah, I probably would’ve been the reason someone died tonight.” He chewed on the inside of his cheek as he looked at Bea again. “Thanks for not letting that happen.”

A noise of frustration left Bea’s nose as she turned back to the Hellhound in front of her. Nell had a soft spot for them, it would be wrong if she just called Kaden here to kill it. It was a monster that could kill people, but her littlest sister liked them. It would hurt her to know Bea killed it without an attempt at some humane solution. She wasn’t particularly sure how to be humane to a monster, but she would figure it out. 

“Are you new to this whole thing?” Bea asked tiredly. He had to be around Adam’s age, but he had none of the experience that had let Adam survive as long as he did from what she could see. Not that had done much in the end, had it? He was still gone. “Sometimes when you see something like this the best thing to do is give it space or call someone who is trained to take care of things like this.” The hunters she trusted in this town were struggling to survive or gone. 

Bea leaned against the back of the seats nearest her, her exhaustion hitting her all at once. “There won’t always be someone like me there. What will you do then?” How will you survive? 

Bea seemed to be at the end of her rope, and a sneaking suspicion told Eddie he wasn’t the sole cause of her weariness. He thought about Nell and the contagiousness of grief. All at once, he became less concerned with self-pity. Compared to the Vurals, he had it easy. Eddie wished he could share that with them instead of dragging Bea down with his inability to make good decisions. He kept saying he would start being better for the people around him, when did he plan on actually doing it?

“No, I’m not new to this,” he answered truthfully. Whatever he said to Bea had a chance to get back to Nell. Eddie couldn’t afford to lie to her even if the lie was easier to hear than the truth. “Tonight just sucked.” 

He considered her next question carefully. “I used to know.” Again, Eddie chose honesty. Until recently, he didn’t care what happened to him in situations like what happened tonight. Live or die, it didn’t matter. Part of him, and it was a big part, still felt that way, but now people cared about him. That made things murkier. “I guess I’d die if that happened.” Despite his inner turmoil, he sounded shockingly nonchalant. “I’m trying not to be okay with that.”

For a moment, Bea almost laughed. Waves of optimism had carried her afloat that last few days, but now she felt the current shifting beneath her feet. There were only so many times she would claim that things would get better. She was exhausting herself carrying everyone else’s hope on her back, but she had tried it the other way before. She had seen what it made her and she refused to go back to that. 

“You should know that you shouldn’t be doing stuff in this town alone, then.” Adam should have known, they should have forced him to take someone. Bea shook her head, trying to lose the ‘what if’ questions that did nothing but worsen her guilt. 

Bea’s eyes snapped toward him, her exhaustion shoved away by the fire that entered her. She pushed herself away from the chairs, taking a step toward him. “Death doesn’t just affect you,” She whispered fervently. “When you die, you change something in everyone around you. They will never get back to who they were.”

Bea had a point, Eddie realized that. White Crest sunk its teeth into anyone who dared underestimate how brutal it could be. Anyone except him, it seemed. For all his recklessness, he couldn’t get the town to live up to its reputation. Death didn’t want him back. “Yeah,” he quietly replied as his gaze fell to the floor. 

Nex thing he knew, Bea seemed more vibrant than before. As she moved closer, he couldn’t tell if that was a good thing. Eddie glanced at the hellhound’s shadow-made shackles before locking eyes with her. Bea’s warning shook him. The part about his death affecting more than just him sounded a lot like similar words of caution given to him by both Nell and Morgan. But the rest, no one had ever phrased it like that before.

“I don’t want to hurt anyone,” Eddie said firmly. “But I don’t wanna hurt either.” He knew how selfish he sounded. For years, he relied on that selfishness when no one else bothered to prioritize him. “And no one can seem to tell me how to manage both.” 

“Everyone thinks I’m perfectly content not caring whether I live or die, and I guess I can’t blame them. I even put on a good enough act to fool myself sometimes, but it’s bullshit.” His throat tightened as the truth poured out of him. “I hate feeling this way. All it does is make me miserable and piss everyone else off, which is kind of exhausting.” Eddie let out a mirthless laugh. “I’m bleeding out and everyone around me is yelling about how I’m staining the carpet.” He choked back the tears trying to form in his eyes. 

“No one can tell you, because you can’t.” Bea’s voice shook as she said it. There was no reason for her to lay things out for this man, yet here she was, because someone had to. “We hurt people, they hurt us, and we hurt ourselves.” She had been hurt by countless people, she had hurt countless people, and she had hurt herself. “It doesn’t make us bad people if we can learn from it.” She swallowed, “It makes us better if we learn how to forgive ourselves for the things we do.”

Bea closed her eyes for a moment, letting out a breath. That feeling he was talking about was something she understood well. “Sometimes people don’t know how to fix your bleeding, so they find something else to focus on. Blaming you isn’t fair, but it’s how they cope.” How many people have felt like this around here? How many people did she not see or help? “I think you might want to go to therapy, if you aren’t already,” She said with a shrug. “It can help. I go sometimes.” She went a lot in New York. She still went at least once a week, when the flashbacks were bad, she went twice. 

Nothing Bea said relieved Eddie of the ache in his chest, but he appreciated that she said it anyway. He was beginning to learn that, try as he might, he would never find a mystical cure for the pain of living. But, if he listened, he might learn how to cope with it. He forgave others easily, but turning that kindness inwards proved more difficult. “Does that… get easier with practice?” he asked.

For the past ten years, Eddie had been going to therapy. When Bea offered it as a suggestion, he nodded solemnly. “Yeah, it makes things a little easier.” But he couldn’t be completely honest with any of the professionals he’d seen, not about seeing ghosts or anything else related to the supernatural. It felt like wearing a muzzle. When they asked about his YouTube channel, he told them it was purely for entertainment. They were always impressed by the special effects.

“Anyway,” he said, forcing himself to shift gears. “Didn’t mean to, like, trauma dump or whatever” He never did, but it was becoming harder to keep it to himself. “Is there… anything I can do to help out around here? With the mess, I mean.”

“Yeah, it does.” Bea wished there was a way to prepare people for the life that White Crest was leading them down, but there wasn’t. All you could do was tell people the truth and pick them back up when they fell. “It’s like any skill though, we all mess up eventually and you’re going to kick yourself for it. Sometimes things are going to happen and you won’t even be able to remember how to do it, but it’ll come back. It always does.” 

There was a part of Bea who knew she shouldn’t be allowing herself to take someone else on, but here she was pulling someone else’s hope onto her back. Someone had to keep it safe and until they were able to, she would nurture it and treat it as though it was her own. Maybe this was her fatal flaw, the thing that would put her in the ground permanently, but until it proved as dangerous as it felt, she would flirt with it.

“Yep,” Bea grinned at him, nodding at the storage closet. “Go grab a broom. I’m going to call my sister to figure out what to do with this beastie and then I’m going to call my crew to help.” She went to walk away before pausing and looking over her shoulder, “Some days there will be too much to keep in, find people who can handle you at your worst and learn to help them too. Those people will always be with you, as long as you love them as much as they love you.”

[honourablejester]

Ideas for Sorcerers (D&D)

I do love a bit of innate, chaotic magic, the forces of the world writing themselves onto people. Whether said people wanted them to or not. Heh. I will admit I’m a bit more attached to the ‘touched by cosmic forces’ angle for the sorcerer, it’s really great for backstories, but the bloodlines are also fascinating for the ‘family lore’ and ‘really adventurous ancestors’ ideas. So!

I’m mostly focused on the classic sorcerers and then the horror-adjacent sorcerers, because I’m me, and we know what I like. Apologies to fans of the Divine, Storm or new Clockwork sorcerers!

Draconic

Because dragons (and dragon ancestors) are the best. There’s a lot of fun and aesthetic with choosing your dragon ancestor too. The little scales you get with draconic resilience just make for some really cool-looking characters.

I love the idea of mixing ancestries with a draconic sorcerer. Compare and contrast. For example, a tiefling draconic sorcerer with gold dragon ancestry! Combining a ‘tainted’ bloodline with a respected one. Maybe the clan lean heavily into the lawful reputation of gold dragons, as well as a sort of internalised racism against their own darker ancestry as well. They view the fact that they were once favoured by a divine dragon as proof that their bloodline can redeem themselves of their demonic pact/ancestry, and they lean towards lawful occupations, city watch, soldiers, clergy, etc. So your sorcerer has a bit of internal conflict going on. (Also, a red tiefling with gold scales is an awesome look – tiefling skin colours with dragon scale colours is a really fun combination)

Other cool-sounding ancestry combinations: high elf & white/silver ancestry, for that ethereal immortal feeling (also fun to add stereotypical dragon traits with the white dragons, in that you’re an ethereal immortal who really holds a grudge and does not do ‘forgive and forget’), half-elf & green ancestry, for a strongly outcast, political bent, halfling/gnome & copper ancestry, because if you’re going to go for a tiny trickster you might as well go all out …

Or we have my old favourite, a tortle sorcerer with (somehow) a dragon turtle ancestor, because great-grandpa Uhok never met an older and (significantly) larger lady he didn’t want to pursue, and great-grandma Korthalok was honestly rather flattered. (Yes, I am aware that dragon turtles are not high dragons, but they are intelligent, and they’re probably innately magical/elemental enough to put a bit of magic in the bloodline)

Shadow Magic

The sorcerer’s gothic option! I do love it. Your magic comes from a strange, grim shadow realm, either because you were touched by said realm, or one of your ancestors was an entity from said realm. You get a demonic shadow hound, teleportation from shadow to shadow, and later an actual shadow form. Lots to work with there.

I feel like there’s a lot of Lovecraftian, Dreamlands, William Hope Hodgson sort of feeling here. The dark touch of a strange realm. Emphasis on isolation, desolation, alienation. Loneliness. This is also the subclass where I really, really like a later-life coming into your powers, a traumatic event causing a normal person to suddenly develop horrifying magic.

So. Any of your gothic/cosmic horror backstories. You were kidnapped and subjected to a horrific ritual. You were created in a horrific ritual (hi Warforged!). You suffered a severe, inexplicable illness as a child, and remained pale, half-dead, and possessed of strange powers for the rest of your life (I love the shadow sorcerer quirks list). An insane ancestor entered the Negative Plane and your line was almost annihilated by the resulting Nightwalker, but you somehow survived. Your parent was an extremely powerful magic user studying the Shadowfell, and you only realised much later on in your life that your childhood ‘imaginary friends’ were actually Sorrowsworn (Lost and Lonely?) that haunted your ancestral home and that your parent was somehow keeping from killing you. You tried to steal from a powerful, vindictive wizard, who flung you into the Shadowfell for your temerity, and you don’t fully remember how you survived. You slept in a barrow as a dare when you were younger, and an allip whispered secrets to you that lead you to dream of a dark realm, dreams that seemed to gradually change you as you ‘recovered’ …

This entire subclass is just very much ‘go nuts on the horror tropes and have fun’. I love it dearly.

Aberrant Mind

A new one from Tasha’s, but the other Lovecraftian/horror themed sorcerer subclass now. Which is perfectly fine, because I can always roll with more Lovecraftian horror! If shadow magic was themed strongly towards undead, Aberrant Mind seems strongly themed towards aberrations. Body horror and psychic powers! Boo yeah!

I do like the suggested origins. Particularly the parasitic twin and the imaginary friend ones. I think there’s a lot of fun to be had with those. Aberrant mind does feel more … on the science fiction end of horror, more than the fantasy? There’s a different flavour compared to shadow magic. We’re talking alien abduction and Carrie-esque childhood trauma here. Particularly when you get to the higher level actual physical transformation elements. Bit of Akira in there, bit of Innsmouth. So.

I’m liking characters who are a bit ‘aberrant’ on their own merits, even before their powers kick in as well. The outcasts from the get-go. The albino half-orc abandoned by the tribe as a child and befriended/kept safe by their possibly-imaginary flumph friend. The fallen aasimar whose blessings allowed them to survive where their stillborn twin did not, but who still feels the touch of a ghostly hand in theirs (I’m not sure how well it fully gels, but I feel like an Atropal is a very interesting concept to lay alongside this – stillborn gods and blessed, aberrant champions – celestial guides and the whisperings of parasitic twins … not sure how well it fits, but there’s a lot of crunchy concepts there)

Also, there’s your chance to have some fun with the Underdark races. Duergar, Deep Gnomes and Drow. Or sea races, when we have fun with Aboleths. Or non-sea races who still had a bit of fun with Aboleths, if we want to fully embrace the Innsmouth vibes and have normal land-based elves/humans/halflings who come over all Deep-One in the end. You come from a quaint little village on the coast, where the coming-of-age ceremony involved something of an opening of the mind. Nothing to worry about, everyone does it where you come from. Yes indeed! Heh.

And then, to bring us back to the less-horrifying end of sorcerers, and to revisit my childhood in a big way, we have:

Wild Magic

Schmendrick the Magician! Sorry, I grew up on The Last Unicorn, you’ll have to forgive me this. (Is Schmendrick actually part of the inspiration here, I’m wondering?)

But honestly, wild magic really lends itself to down-on-their-luck characters, running ahead of their own chaos, or striving to learn to control their powers. Or, on the flipside, incredibly laissez-faire types who decided to just roll with and eventually enjoy or perpetuate a little chaos. So. Tricksters, shysters and earnest young things trying to do their best.

So. You could do a straight Schmendrick. A down-on-their-luck kid who really, really wants to be a real wizard, a great magician, but their magic just will not cooperate. It has a mind of its own, and their struggle is learning to either minimise or lean into the chaos and power of it. (I like a background as a tailor/seamstress for this, partly because of animated Schmendrick’s memorable patchwork robes, but also as a little practical detail in that, if you can’t trust your magical mending not to do a ‘Sorcerer’s Apprentice’ on it every damn time, you probably would learn to darn your socks the old fashioned way)

For a variation, you could do a bit of a snake-oil salesperson sort of deal. A down-on-their-luck sorcerer turned shyster/criminal to make ends meet. Wild magic works very well as a sort of bloodline curse, bad luck and chaos following a family. A woman of the Witchbottle clan pissed off an archfey way back when, and so every girl born to the line since has struggled with wild magic. So the clan tends to move around a lot, both individually and as a whole, and individual members of it tend to work around their inevitable getting run out of town for magical mishaps in their own ways. The clan has a lot of travelling entertainers, salespeople, criminals, etc, and tend to be very loyal to each other, even if they don’t see each other all that often (concentrations of wild magic in a single area tend to be bad for said area, so family gatherings are discouraged near civilisation).

And then there are your straight trickster characters. Ones with a more philosophical approach to chaos, a belief that you should be able to deal with the unexpected, and that maybe other people should be helped along in experiencing and dealing with it too. I like bards for tricksters, but wild magic sorcerers work very well too. Heh.

I know Wild Magic might not be the most functional of the subclasses, but it’s got a direct line to my childhood, and I feel like it’s still a really fun idea.

In summary? I like the squishy spindly magic people. They’re fun.

[sushisketching]

Doing that thing

OC Interview to procrastinate on work

Introduction (IBS)

1. Can you introduce yourself? "Raziel, Uh... One of many commanders of the Pact." He scratches his head, trying to think of other things to say. "The love of my life calls me a salad sometimes. I'd rather be called a feast, but it'll work."

2. What is your gender identity, orientation and relationship "I think I'm a male. I've checked. I..." He looks over at the camera, smiling. "Used to like to tumble with anybody willing. But considering I have a partner now, I don't think she'd enjoy others joining us." 3. Where and when were you born? "28 years ago, in the Grove, supposedly of the Dusk cycle. Though I don't have the brains." 4. What is your weapon of choice and fighting style? "Right from the pod, I could feel the world hum and the tides scream at me. I studied basic elemental magic in the Grove, but travelled to Elona soon after. Picked up a sword and a dagger and they felt right to me. I'm..." He looks away for a few seconds, guilt gleaming. "I'm intensely reckless. I hope that I'm less now so, after everything that I've been through." 5. Lastly, are you happy? "I was born before being forced into the dragon wars, but... now... There's still a threat of them. I've been happy many times, but now it lasts longer with Serafin here." Family and Friends

1. What's your family like? What's your relationship with them? "The answer to that is intensely convoluted. The Pale Tree is my mother, but more of a symbol of guidance than anything. I was born with a pod-sister, her name was once Nyrene, but it's Nyfuse now. When people see me they think I'm loud. Then they meet my sister. Even if she's ridiculous, she's taken a liking to deceptions rather than elements." 2. Have you ever ran away from home? "The Grove is a beautiful and serene place." There's a sense of sarcasm to this. "But yes. Once. Next question."

3. Would you consider marriage or having children? "After the dragons are gone, then I'll consider everything else. And I need to have some secrets. But I can't have children. They scare me as well, so what's the point?" He looks at the camera, saw it shaking with laughter. "Next question." 4. Do you secretly hate one of your friends? "If I hated someone, they could tell. I could tell. I'm bad at lying." 5. Which friend knows everything about you? "Alfuse. My sister's lover is a spy, a thief, after all. But I've told him so many things even before they were together. And... Grayson Embersmith." He looks at the ground, ashamed. "Knew him for a majority of my life, before... Before Orr had happened." Asked by fans??

1. Are you literate? Have you been to school? "I can read and write and talk just as well as the next person. But the first two years of my life were hell, because words didn't sling together naturally for me. If the Priory counts as a school, sure, I've been to a school." 2. The eeriest prediction you made that later came true? "I told Embersmith that one of us would probably die in Arah. Or earlier. I thought it would be me." 3. What is something you were embarrassingly late to realize? "How much I hated to love Serafin. So many fine lines, and I thought with my 20 years of living I'd have figure out the difference. But she's still here. That's a good sign." 4. Do you have mental / physical issues? "I have a lot of scars from our Salvation raid. And a few mental issues. PTSD. That sort. I'd rather not think about it more than I have to. I think the worst memory I have was watching my sister get half-Branded, losing her sight a while back. And other things up there too. There's too much to talk about. Move on. Next question." His eyes are glazed with anger and sadness, hands fidgeting. 5. What is your current main goal? "To live. See the next day. Find rest in this turmoil and chaos. We're still waiting for news about the next dragon to kill." Choices!

1. Drinks or food? "I drink too much water. Maybe being an elementalist has something to do with that, I don't know." 2. Cats or dogs? "I love them both." His mouth tightens, his voice a whisper. "I like cats more." 3. Early bird or night owl? "I love both. I tend to see both. I may not have many brains, but I still have commands to dish out, and reports to check. But if anything, I like it when my dearest is up, and she's usually up late." His wooden skin glows with amber lines looking at whoever's holding the camera. 4. Optimist or pessimist? "I used to look at the world and all its problems and cruelty. After Arah... I'd rather look at the brighter things, see what I can get that's good to me. Embersmith would've wanted for me to look for good things after all." 5. Sassy or sarcastic? "It's all the sass. I am sass. Gotta be brash and bold and hot to be a commander, after all." Have you ever 1. Been caught sneaking out? "I hated night duty. Snuck out right at dusk with my friends and drink the night away. Always got yelled at when I came back to my post, saw a commander lose his mind after us leaving. Those were good times." 2. Broke a bone? "Yes. Tried to climb a tree drunk; broke my arm falling out. Tried to get a dolyak's hide and broke my ankle there. Lost my arm and a leg before. Got stabbed in the chest once too. All part of the job. Except the tree thing. Don't try to climb moving oakhearts while drunk. Awful idea." 3. Received flowers? "After Claw Island, I got flowers for respects to my mentor. I barely knew them, but she... was a very kind sylvari. And after Arah, for Embersmith. I hated getting those things. Didn't think I deserved to be there, after all, I played a part in their deaths." 4. Ghosted someone? "Once, when I was infused with too much magic. Sometimes being one of Aurene's champions causes me to lose control, usually after a nightmare. One time I tried casting a small curse to make someone's skin turn blue, but rather they turned transparent. We fixed it later though." 5. Pretended to laugh at a joke you didn't get "Too many times. Political parties are jokes. The real joke is when they go stumbling up to me when drunk and ask me why I'm drinking. They seem to misunderstand my age?" Whirrrr done ok bye

[takerfoxx]

The Owl House, Season 1, Episode 13, “The First Day,” First Impressions!

Disney, I am begging you on bended knees. STOP MAKING PUTTING YOUR CHARACTERS IN EMBARRASSING SITUATIONS SUCH AN INTEGRAL PART OF EVERYTHING!

Okay, so I’m exaggerating here. Once I actually buckled down and watched the episode all the way through, it wasn’t nearly as bad as I feared. 

But even so, please, please, PLEASE cut back on episodes that revolve around your socially awkward characters humiliating and/or embarrassing themselves or putting them in tense, awkward situations! My tolerance for second-hand cringe is insanely low! As much as I loved Gravity Falls, there are still some episodes I haven’t watch because of that! Like, Ducktales does it sometimes, but most of it is straightforward adventure, which makes it easier and more fun to get through!

Anyway, enough whinging about universal trends in kids’ cartoons. Luz is finally attending Hexside, and surprise, surprise, she’s...not fitting in well. Apparently not being about to choose a track causes Principal Bump to choose for her, which gets her stuck in potions, which is incredibly boring compared to everything else she could have gone with.

And that means it’s time for me to nitpick.

So, Luz is desperate to learn magic, finally gets into the school of her dreams, is known to be hyper-obsessive over her interests, but she hasn’t read the curriculum? Or read up on the tracks? Or knows how the school works?

I mean, this is the same issue I had with Harry Potter. I get that parts of Hogwarts can be boring, but here we have a kid that was abused and neglected his whole life suddenly learning that he’s a wizard with a rich family history who gets to learn magic, and...he slacks off and half-asses a lot of his classes? I mean, Hermione’s obsessive reading of everything made perfect sense for a Muggle-born, but it’s treated as a quirky character trait. I don’t get it. 

Also, GIRL! You’re learning how to make magical potions! You learned magic through breaking down runes to their core elements and employing that knowledge! That’s basically what potions and alchemy is all about! There’s no reason it shouldn’t be as cool as divination or beast taming!

Also, I’m having a hard time parsing out how I feel about Principal Bump. I get that he’s supposed to be this strict no-nonsense type but with a soft side who can be forgiving and reasonable. So McGonagall, basically. And I really like characters like that most of the time. But it feels like he is either all the way one way or all the way the other, and just quickly jumps back and forth with little balance. Like, one moment he wants absolutely nothing to do with Luz because of the chaos she’s caused, the next he’s eager to have her enroll, then he’s all like, “Fuck her,” then he’s being surprisingly tolerant of her shenanigans, then he’s on the verge of kicking her out, then he just gives her and the other troublemakers what they want? And all of this happens very quickly!

Thing is though, when it comes to mixing tracks, he’s...kind of right? And I don’t mean that mixing tracks is inherently bad, but that it’s still a really good idea to make sure you got a handle on one before you move onto another. Like, the troublemakers were shown to be causing lots of problems and damage through irresponsibly mixing magics, which, okay, is pretty common at Hexside, but even so. I mean, isn’t it better to learn one thing well instead of several things poorly? Isn’t Luz, someone with no real magical background or experience, kind of setting herself up for disaster by jumping into everything all at once? I know the whole lesson of not letting yourself be boxed in is important, but this feels like a kind of sloppy way to tell it. Wouldn’t it make more sense for the lesson to be that no matter how cool your dreams are, there is still a lot of hard, grueling work you need to do in order to get good at it?

AND FINALLY, was having the troublemakers turn on Luz that fast just because they heard her grousing about being stuck in detention really necessary? I mean, she said nothing about them, just that she hated getting stuck in detention. Surely they of all people would understand. 

Look, I know it sounds like I disliked this episode and am tearing it apart, but I actually enjoyed it quite a bit! There was a lot of good stuff here. It just feels like the writers were really straining to keep the plot going where they wanted and came up with a lot of invented drama that really feel organic. Problems and resolutions both came a little too easily.

So what did I like? Well, can I just say that the detention track with a hidden hideout that allows them to spy on any class and learn whatever they want is like THE COOLEST IDEA EVER?! Like, I wanna spend more time with those guys! Hell, I kinda wish they hadn’t gotten caught, that they hadn’t been forgiven, and the rest of the series is Luz and her new friends secretly learning whatever they want from their private sanctuary! Then when shit goes down, they can bust out all that cool knowledge that they aren’t supposed to have! 

Also, I totally saw Eda being their patron saint coming, because who else would it be?

Also, King as a substitute teacher gives me so much joy. Thing is, he actually is really good at teaching. It’s just the things he wants to teach are kinda suspect.

And yes, I grinned at that five second shot of Amity freaking out about going to school with Luz.

So all in all, this was an episode with a lot of really cool ideas, funny jokes, and character moments, but the structure left me scratching my head, and I feel they kind of left their more interesting ideas on the table. So I really liked it overall, but I feel some parts could’ve stood to have been workshopped a few more times in the writer’s room.