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mantisgodsart · 11 months

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With the @bug-oc tournament still ongoing, Round 2 drawing to an end in favour of Round 3, another handful of bugs are knocked out of the competition, who will of course arrive home safe and...

Well, differently-shaped. Marigold's been busy! An unusually fast round, here, we got a decent burst of inspiration while procrastinating on packing chatting with some friends and - what? Other contestants? What other contestants? You must be mistaken, of course there were only seven bugs lost this round. It's not like we would lie about that, right? Clearly, if anyone else was transmuted, you'd see them right here. With the rest of Marigold's successful experiments. It's not like we've got any more to do... right?

(Names and owners of transmuted OCs below the cut, in order of pictures here - no group picture for this one, sadly, since we still have more to do here. Hopefully, we pass Round 3 - we really want to draw some transmutations for the other bugs in this round, and the narrowed competition means we can bring out some of the fancier paper we'e got rattling around! Vote for Marigold so we can do more of these - and, of course, for her many natural good qualities.)

First up is Fahris from @tetraterantula, as a Kingsmould! Though tampering with Void isn't precisely advisable, and going from a normal bug to an artificial one is jarring at the best of times, he at least has hands - better than most of this batch can say! This one was fun to do, and we tinkered with a lot of things - the side effects being, of course, that we're tinkering with things we don't already know how to do well. We did make some mistakes here - we are not, admittedly, an expert in humanoids, and long straight lines are the absolute bane of us, but we did our best!

The dark gray used here is starting to fray, which we can unfortunately do little about, as we're out of replacement nibs for our pens at the moment, but which might have caused some interesting texture. We defined the boundary between the lighter cape and the darker one with a white gel pen because our black and dark gray proved to be a bit too close in color to tell at a glance - the pains of traditional art, we suppose. Still turned out fairly well! We wonder if the color palette would interfere with his ability to stroll into the White Palace...

Next up is Cici from @mimicspider, as a Giraffe Weevil. Probably not doing anything for her clumsiness, and definitely not doing anything for her number of hands - the neck is a lot to get used to, even without getting into the whole set of bauplan changes going on here. At least she's probably faster like this? Once she gets used to the legs, at least.

Though we've technically already made her into a Lightseed, double transmutation is fair play... probably? Lightseed Cici was less than a centimeter of our paper, so obviously we had to do something bigger. We modelled this one in particular after the Grimm Troupe steeds - the clown theme fits, and we wanted to toy with the... cloak-looking bits? The polka-dots were a fun challenge, and we definitely think the abdomen came out well. One of the more successful transmutations here, we'd say!

Next are Willow and Lily from @razs-archetype, with Willow as a Moss Knight and Lily as a Belfly. Y'know when you take just a few seconds to yourself, take just a quick nap, and next thing you know you've woken up and the moss has grown over you and your hands have been turned to strange talons reminiscent of a god's dream? Yeah, happened to us too. Awful time. At least their partner's here to- ah, shit. At least this one comes with flight? Probably a damn hard sell of a consolation prize, but...

Not as much to say with the choices here - the Moss Knight felt like a natural choice, and the Belfly just... clicked? We had fun with Willow's moss - the highlights here actually use the same white gel pen as was used with Fahris, since it's got a nice semitransparent thing that we particularly like. We think the style conversion for Lily's face worked out particularly nicely, here. The piece as a whole turned out as one of the best of the batch, as far as we're concerned. Was nice to draw them!

Next, of course, are Drya and Tel from @enbeemerang, with Drya as a Tiktik and Tel as a Nosk - we predict strange waters ahead for them, relationship-wise. Two bugs, and not a single pair of opposable thumbs. The economy is clearly in shambles. At least they've still got each other?

Tel here specifically is actually inspired by a fic that Cog himself wrote - would it surprise you to know that we know them outside of this tournament? They've actually been handed over to us for transformation practice once before, in a sequence that we... might post as propaganda, later. Drya, we deliberated on a few options before settling on a Tiktik - it just seems to fit!

Last but not least, Sehra from @shiningnightstars as a Hive Soldier. It's probably better than it could be, here - at least bees are a bit familiar to Bugaria! This particular variant, admittedly, might not be. Again with the hands, and this time with the looking like an unawakened bee - it might mean a bit of trouble for her, but we're sure she can power through.

The wings here were particularly fun to do - again, we're doing blending tricks here, and we think that the purples turned out particularly well! Sehra's palette is quite pretty, and the gel pen on the eyes wound up looking amazing. Though "soldier" probably doesn't fit too much for what Sehra... is, it felt like the closest to her as far as aesthetics go. The Hive Guardian is a bit too big for a moth like her, the Hiveling feels a bit too far in the other direction, and the Hive Knight... we're actually avoiding bosses and more sapient-looking folk here when possible. Hopefully, it's to your liking!

#our art #finished #bug fables #hollow knight #ocs #other peoples ocs #kingsmould #troupe steed #giraffe weevil #moss knight #belfly #nosk #tiktik #bee #hive soldier #the two left are To Be Seen for... well. youll see :)

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silvermistanimelover · 10 months

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Hi I can tell you aren’t super active here so no worries, take your time, but do you have a description for Yatir? I’d love to draw him but I haven’t shown my face in the LU server since literally like, this time last year, so I’m a little nervous. I’ve been reading ‘A Hero’s Spirit’ since the early days (and have reread it more than a few times in the space between updates) and he’s so cool, my favourite little guy.

I also really hope you’re the right guy but how many other silvermistanimelovers can there be lol

Ah! yes, I'd love it if you drew Yatir! :D Fun fact, his basic appearance is based off a character named Galliard from a manwha called Second Life Ranker.

Anyways, here's Yatir's description.

Name: Yatir

Species: Sheikah

Appearance: Somewhat tan skin, about matching with Wild (maybe a little darker), with bright blue eyes. They're icy in coloration, one of his most striking features. He has white hair that's just a bit shorter than Wild's (though roughly the same length), usually kept tied back in a bun or a high ponytail depending on the situation.

General of the Hyrulian Royal Forces Uniform (Yatir): "He was still in his own royal guard uniform—a white shirt with royal blue accents and aged golden chains that hung from his breast pocket. His small cloak bore the symbol of the Hyrulean Royal Guard—the Sword that Seals the Darkness overtop the Sheikah Eye. From his left ear hung a little golden Triforce with a Sheikah Blue gem in the middle—something that was uniquely Yatir’s and showed his position as the Captain of the Royal Guard. " –A Hero's Spirit: Echoes in Time

Normal Clothes/Travel Clothes: Blue outfit that looks like a cross between Link's Champion's Tunic outfit (obviously with more sheikah-like designs on the tunic than the sword) and the more traditional Sheikah armor set. It has accents of a very light blue (so light it almost looks white), and aged gold (for these specific colors, check the flag). Dark blue, off-white blue and aged gold are the colors of the kingdom. Note that Yatir still wears the golden Triforce earring from his Official Uniform.

◊ Extra info: His tunic is the same shade as the Champions' fabrics. In an 'off-screen' moment in the story, Arcadius gave Yatir a Champion's Tunic of his own (with permission of the other Champions). Since the Sheikah themselves never had an official Champion, Arc has designated Yatir. Though it's not 'official' as the meaning of Champion has changed, the sentiment is still there. Yatir adores his tunic, and is proud to be considered an honorary Champion.

Weapons: Twin short-swords (of the Sheikah Weapon variety. The glowy-blue ones). They were made by Robbie specifically for Yatir.

I hope this is enough info! :) I'd love to see whatever you create!

#Yatir #Linked Universe #A Hero's Spirit #fanfiction #worldbuilding #Zelda #Sheikah

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fallingoverharrypotter · 3 years

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If We Make It Through January 7th

Draco and Harry on the wrong side of the holiday season, making the gloom a little bit brighter. Also on AO3 here.

I’m barely through the front door of the place before I catch a glimpse of the man behind the counter and freeze up. Right there in the doorway.

A frustrated cough comes from behind me, and I hear a rude “excuse me.”

I swear. “Sorry,” I move out of their way, back onto the icy cobblestones: the patron flicks me an insincere smile as they hurry into the warmth of the bakery, and the door shuts in my face with a clang. The noise of the store, regular café sounds and music with it. That’s unfortunate, as Diagon still has Christmas jingles incessantly twinkling across the cold brick back and forth down the alley on this side of the new year, and that’s… only one part of the reason I want to enter.

Surely there are other places on Diagon that sell hot drinks and buns this late on a Wednesday. But… I know there aren’t. Even in muggle London.

Going home empty handed on Monday was one thing, but going home empty handed on Wednesday seems out of the question.

The cheerful drawings of smiling faces and steaming pastries on the glass are mocking me - there’s raucous noise of laughter just from the other side of the windows. I’m drawn up close and shivering in my winter robe, and it’s so cold that the warming charms keep wearing off. There are the sludgy remnants of snow on the cobbles, and I had to save myself from a couple of falls on the way down here. The blush on my cheeks is definitely from the embarrassment of the wobbles, but thankfully it’ll be passed off as the bite of the air. He probably won’t realise a difference anyway.

I take a deep breath, and go to reach for the door again, but then my hand stops, barely within my control. I close my eyes and try once more. Breathe deep, hand out to grasp the handle. I pretend not to think about whether any patrons of the bakery are staring at me through the glass. I hypothesise that if this takes me longer than five minutes, I’ll get an Auror called on me for drunk and disorderly, and wouldn’t that truly make my day.

Suddenly, it’s too much. I don’t even want to see his face. Wednesday pastries will just have to go without. It’s a silly tradition anyway. Surely if I’m ever allowed to forgo a habit, it would be as a new year’s resolution. It was his neurotic practice anyway. Probably one of those things I should toss out like I did all the rest of his stuff.

I take another deep breath and point my chin up, stare challengingly at one stupid smiling figure on the glass, and turn to make my way down to the other apparition point at the end of Diagon.

Stupid ex-boyfriends and stupid bleeding-heart holiday seasons. I manage to keep my feet reasonably stable as I walk down the almost icy path on this darker end of the street.

Unfortunately for me, however, a loud noise startles me and I completely wipe out.

A loud grunt expels itself from my chest as my back hits the ground. Thankfully my neck and head seem to be pretty well protected by the thick green scarf I’ve got wrapping me up, but my ass doesn’t fair all that well. “Fucking hell,” I mutter, and groan as I roll over onto my side. I wince when a sharp twinge in my back is set off with my movement.

Thankfully I’m not alone in my predicament, because the noise that startled me was an initial slick sharp sound of a slip against the icy cobbles. I tilt my head up and see heavy black boots, worn just slightly at the sole, and the figure of their owner, a man in amongst a mountain of sludgy snow that someone had just moved to the side instead of vanishing. I mutter to myself about the absolute travesty which is Diagon without proper foot traffic. People here get bloody careless this time of year.

I push myself up by my gloved hands, now soaked, along with the backside of my cloak. “Are you alright?” I half-heartedly direct to the man who I can hear angrily muttering to himself in his current position. I have to pay direct attention to getting my feet under me so that I don’t make another trip, but I do finally stabilise myself. I sigh crossly. My penance for getting so startled is that I don’t immediately get to grab my wand and dry myself off.

The man sighs too. His reply is muffled, but I think I can make out a “yep”. Charming.

He’s not moving though, so I huff out a breath impatiently and wander over to where he lies carelessly under an awning, face shadowed from Diagon’s twinkling lights. Good King Wenceslas chimes out of the charms on the street, and seems to mock me, and I have to force myself to think of how best to rectify this. I hope this guy isn’t drunk. Or maybe I hope he is, so that I can just call the aurors to deal with this.

“Are you pissed?” I ask, just to know.

“I wish.” Is his muffled reply. “Would be a bit less embarrassing if I were, I think.”

I roll my eyes. “Can you get up?”

“Yep.” He repeats, and then groans again as he pulls himself out of the soaking wet, dirty grey cushion, that is the snow bank.

My mouth drops open. “Potter?”

And, yep indeed. It’s Potter. He’s leaning back on gloved hands when he looks up at me quickly and then he groans. Throws his wet haired head back, and those green eyes look up at the awning like he’s berating whatever trickster god pulls his strings of fate. Or, so I assume.

He leans his weight on a single hand and stretches out the other in my direction.

For a second, I think he’s extended it so we can shake hands, before I realise that he just wants a hand up. I flush and hasten – carefully – over. A quick pull from my hand and he does the rest of the work, but he has to grab at my shoulders when he’s upright, a little wobbly.

He looks at me and grimaces. “I’m a danger to myself and others.” His hands release my shoulders, but only, it seems, to brush off bits of snow and dirt off of my coat.

I huff, my breath making a cloud of vapour in the space between us. “Well, I won’t disagree with you on that. Do you need me to go and get someone for you, or can you make your merry way to your reserved bed at Mungos?”

He laughs just a little. “It’s always a pleasure, Draco, honestly.” He’s joking, so I reserve the right to kick him until later. Maybe when he’s a bit less pathetic from the slip. “Are you okay?”

I scowl, and don’t answer his question. “It’s bloody 6pm on a Wednesday. In the middle of winter. After a snow storm. Who’s honestly buying wands this time of year?”

He smiles, winks slightly. “Gotta be made, don’t they?”

I roll my eyes. “Oh, I get it. You’re chained to your desk. A snowstorm fit for the arctic circle could blaze through here and you couldn’t be moved.”

He laughs. Harry laughs the same way he’s always laughed, and I blush just a little bit, as I’ve always done. I feel a shiver start to come upon me, but I keep it away by share force of will as he continues. “The new year is good for the thestral tail hair.” A dirty glove subconsciously comes up to rub at his wet hair, and he grimaces when he feels it. “Decay, new life, you know. The Death-horses and Winter going hand in hand.”

I smirk as he tentatively tries to rub his dirty glove off against a cleaner part of his cloak. “Cruel of them. Not taking the time to consider your plight.”

“Well,” he challenges, “I doubt it’s a major concern. It’s actually not every day that I slip and fall on the pavement. I survive my walks, mostly.”

“Well,” I answer, “I never slip or fall.” I raise a haughty eyebrow at him, and I can see the humour dust his eyes a little bit more. “Don’t go blaming me for this.”

He rolls his eyes and grimaces. “Why are we still so wet.” He flicks his hand and a wave of annoyingly familiar magic crests itself over my figure until the dirt and the moisture are driven right away. I flick a warming charm over him in thanks.

He seems to pay a bit more attention to his surroundings now that he’s dry and warm. “You just come from Finch-Fletchley’s? You mind reminding him that if the other shops are closed down for the holidays that it’s his job to vanish the snow after a blanketing?”

I avert my eyes, drawn to the bright lights of the bakery. I scowl. “You can tell him yourself, thank you very much.” I take a deep breath, and straighten my back. Keeping some decorum, hopefully. “We’ve broken up.”

Potter’s eyebrows are up when I glance quickly back to his face. He looks at me, and his face is very controlled. He looks at the bakery. “When?”

I swallow. “Week before Christmas, if you can believe.”

He can’t seem to stop himself from whistling sympathetically. Then he winces. “Sorry.”

I shrug, casually. “No matter.”

He snorts.

“I’m serious” I say, pointlessly.

He crosses his arms and looks hard at me. “Oh yeah? What are you doing here, then? Surely not too many muggleborns turning 11 around this time of year.”

Not to back down, and turn to face him properly and cross my own arms. “You know full well that’s not all I do, Potter.”

He rolls his eyes. “Like my point doesn’t still stand. What? You doing a lot of muggleborn house calls the week after new year’s?”

“Not every muggleborn celebrates Christmas and New Year’s.”

“Sure, technically. In reality, though?”

I turn away, and don’t answer his questions. He snorts, but then steps a little closer. We’re facing the bakery, because of course we are. O’ Holy Night plays above us. I wonder who chooses these songs.

I hear him take a deep breath in and out. “I really am sorry.”

I sigh, too. “It’s really not a big deal.”

“It’s only been two weeks, Draco.”

Two weeks and 5 days. If we’re counting. I don’t say this though.

He bumps my shoulder. “Not to pick at the wound, but what areyou really doing here.”

I consider lying to him again, but we’re not really in the business of doing that. It’d just be a bore. And he’s always been… good about things like this. “Christmas.” I swallow. “It gets lonely, you know.”

He hums.

I kick out at the ground with my foot and it slides a little bit too far, and I end up having to take a step forward to balance myself again – Potter grabs at my arm.

He laughs, a little anxiously. “Never slip and fall, huh?”

I ignore that, my face flushed and hot. “We had a tradition. Wednesday pastries at the bakery. I would assume it’s common decency to let someone know in advance if you’re going to break up with them. So that one can plan for these moments, right?” I close my eyes against the lights of Justin’s bakery, feeling unwelcome. “I apologise. I’m morose. It’s not exactly the post-holiday cheer I’m sure you want on a nice evening.”

He chuckles. “I wouldn’t call this a nice evening.” My warming charm wears off, and he flicks his wrist for another one to settle over us. He lets go of my upper arm, and puts a hand on my shoulder – drags me around a bit to face him. “Fuck him, right?”

I roll my eyes. “He’s not a bad guy, Potter.”

He rolls his eyes right back, and then looks quite serious. “Be a little indulgent with yourself sometimes, Draco.”

I look back at him. He’s only just shorter than me, and I’ve always cherished that fact, but now he almost seems to be towering over me, even with a bit of a slouch to his stand. His messy hair and his shadowed cheeks and under-eyes the likes of which I only really see during the summer break when I’m chaperoning muggle families and their muggleborn children to get their first wands before September. Working too hard. Chained to his desk.

“Do you want to have dinner with me?” I blurt out.

His eyes widen. So do mine. The heat in my face expands to a blaze, and I groan as I drop it into my cold gloves. “Merlin, I’m sorry. You just said the indulgent thing, and I couldn’t stop myself.”

“Hey, it’s fine.” He grabs at my wrists lightly and tugs a bit, but I don’t budge. “Draco.”

A clang mutely sounds from just up the street, the usual echo of the door in the cobbled street trapped by the snow. “Draco?” I hear, and look up. Startle, because that’s definitely Justin at the door, surrounded in the glow of the lighting. I take a step back almost without thought, and Harry’s grip on my wrist unfortunately makes me lose my balance. I go right down, and he follows. Right on top of me.

I groan loudly, my head and back and arse all once again wet and cold. Harry groans too, and his warm weight gets off me very quickly, tugging me up by my hands, and then a hand tight on my waist to right me. I don’t step out of his grip immediately, too overcome with the situation. Ready to take another crack at the cobbles and see if this time I brain myself.

“Hell, Draco,” Harry mutters, and then grabs his wand to get the wet and the dirt off the both of us again. Another of his beautiful warming charms settles over my body. “We’re even now, okay? No more falls, for god’s sake.”

Justin has wandered a bit closer by the time I look away from Harry’s face, a little consternated. “Draco? Are you okay? Merlin, what are you doing standing out here?”

I don’t respond. Harry coughs. “That’ll be me. I basically tripped him earlier, and we got talking.”

Justin’s eyes widen just a little, and he looks at Draco in concern. “In this weather? It’s freezing! I’ll grab you mug of spice cider, alright?”

“No,” I say, finally finding my bloody voice again. “No, I’m fine. And anyway.” I shoot a glance at Harry. “We’re tied one-for-one.” Harry smirks.

Justin continues when I look back to him. “Dray, come on. A cup of cider, a bite to eat.”

I shake my head, wanting this day to be done with already. “I’ve got plans.”

Justin eyes get just a little softer. “Come on, please?”

“He does. Have plans.” Potter says, and my neck twinges with how fast I turn to look at him. “We’re going to dinner.”

Justin goggles, just a little, looks between Harry and me. There’s a certain part of me – a different part to the one that’s processing whether or not Harry means what he said about dinner – that’s a little vindictively pleased about Justin’s reaction. “Oh!” Justin says. “Okay, no… No worries!” He meets my eyes, and I flush. “It was good to see you. Please, do come around. The staff miss you, you know.”

I smile politely. “Thanks, Justin.” I stand a little taller, and nod to him. “Take care.”

“You too.” And he grins kindly, lifting a hand to Harry and me, before hastening back into the warm sanctuary of his bakery. The door does its little muted clang again as it closes. My mouth – still sitting in a polite smile – relaxes, leaving a little pain in my cheeks.

Harry hums. “Do you ever think that we’re all a bit toomature now?”

Surprisingly, I laugh loudly at that. I’m nodding even before I get the words out. “Yes. I’d almost wish to be fifteen again and have a real proper tantrum about this.” I sigh, laugh a little again. “But, you know. Fifteen-year-old me? Good riddance.”

“I don’t know…” Harry trails off, “there were some redeeming qualities. He was certainly a creative sort.”

I goggle at him, and immediately stop when I realise that I’m imitating Justin to some extent. “Stop having me on.”

Harry… laughs. “Yeah, I’m having you on. You were a right bastard.”

I shake my head, and turn away from the lights of the bakery, and start walking. He’ll surely catch up.

“I was serious.” Harry says, and I turn my head a little to let him know I’m listening as I walk. “About dinner.”

“I assumed so,” even though that’s a bit of a lie.

“And,” Harry catches up. “I mean ‘dinner’ as in. A date.”

I’m not proud of this, but I slip. Just a little. “Fuck,” I say as I try to catch myself. Thank goodness that Potter’s a bit more onto it, though. He just grabs my arm, and an arm around my back. Straightens me up.

“Bloody hell, I should have talked to him about the snow vanishing,” Harry’s saying as I brush off my cloak to hide my flush. “It’s all the Diagon Business Association talks about during winter, I don’t know what he’s on-”

“Harry.”

He stops and looks at me. Christmas music is still playing, and its still grating, but goodness the lights work well on his complexion. And his eyes.

I smile, just a little. “We’ve got dinner plans, I thought? We could talk about this there, surely?”

He laughs.

#drarry fic #drarry #drarry fanfic #harry potter fanfic #this came out of nowhere and was supposed to be something much different before it became this #fluff #pure and simple #and god now all i want is to have 30k of Harry as wandmaker and Draco as the muggleborn liason #brining the little muggleborn kids and their families through Diagon before they go off to Hogwarts #and Harry and Draco learning to like each other through that #and falling kind of just #slowly for each other because of it #and Draco deserves a little date #as a treat

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val-aquenta · 3 years

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For Mace Windu Appreciation Week Prompt: A little bit of both AU and Padawan

Here on ao3

Mace Windu woke up and the first thing he noted was the cruel emptiness in his gut. The next was that one of his arms, his right, had been sliced off cleanly, a ring of burnt flesh the only remainder of it. Thirdly, his whole body ached, most likely a result of the lightning that had coursed through his veins before. The duracrete floor beneath him was cracked, a result of a desperate push at the floor to slow down. Some part of Mace, though, wished he had died in the fall from the Chancellor’s window. That he had not had enough strength to cushion himself from the fall. His lightsaber, sliced in half by Skywalker’s blue blade, lay strewn in two parts in front of him. The crystal glowed softly, a pale white light glowing within the broken casing. Mace groaned, his ribs aching painfully as well as his ankle feeling weak. He blinked, trying to wake himself up more. He was the Council Master, he had to warn them, had to warn his family of the Sith.

Mace sat up, wincing as his torso twinged in discomfort. His right arm went to cradle around his middle, the other shooting out to call his broken lightsaber to him. He mourned its loss for a moment, the blade had been by his side since his first gathering. It was his only blade, and he was saddened at having lost it. He spent a moment on the floor, assessing his health before he looked out at the darkness surrounding him.

It was pure luck that he had fallen onto a ledge still on the higher layers of Coruscant. Indeed, a few more metres to one side and Mace would have fallen to his death. He spent another moment gaining strength before he pushed himself to his feet, hand raising to massage his brow. Something… terrible had happened. More terrible than Anakin joining the Sith. Mace could feel it in his bones, feel it in the Force around him. It felt emptier, darker, and colder. How long had he been out on this ledge?

An urgency propelled Mace as he heard the familiar voices of a clone. He stumbled and was about to reveal himself before the voice spoke out, “CT-3401, no more Jedi traitors in this area.” Jedi… traitors. He froze against the wall, hardly breathing. The clones… they were at the Temple too. “They must have all been killed in the first sweep.” The clone continued, voice beginning to fade away as they walked away. Mace swallowed, he must have hope. Have hope that the younglings had escaped, that the elderly and the younger Padawans had somehow made it out. He’d just be going back for any stragglers. When he no longer heard the clone, the voice fading away into the background noise of Coruscant, Mace moved out and began the long journey towards the Temple.

Upon seeing the first billboard with the news, Mace almost threw up. The clones had, for some reason, swept through the Temple. ‘Killed all the violent insurgents,’ the billboard said, and Mace wanted to tear it to shreds. He simply gave it a cursory glance before shuffling along. The citizens, for some reason, did the same, looking at the board before turning and whispering to each other about the violence that the Jedi brought, and that it was probably for the best they all died.

Mace almost ran into a small squad of clones as they walked down a road, ducking into the corner to hide in the shadows. The brown cloak he had torn slightly and dirtied meant he looked as though he belonged in the streets. He peeked out after a moment and caught sight of the Temple, smoke rising from the centre. One of the spires had cracked and fallen. Dread filled him, but Mace had hope. Surely… someone had survived, surely the children would not have been slain.

He limped further, hoisting himself into the maze of disused sewage pipes that ran under the Temple, a path he had not taken in a long while. Nevertheless, the marking he had written on the sides still remained after all this time. Tepid water released a stench into the pipe so strong that Mace lifted his robe sleeve to try and ward off the worst of it. He made sure no echoes of footsteps were heard, trusting the plastoid armour of the clones to give away any squads approaching, but no clones seemed to have found the pipes yet. Perhaps some of the younglings had escaped through here; he knew he was not the only one who knew of these pipes. Still, he heard no sound other than the occasional slouch of his feet in the water. Part of him was relieved as there were no clones, but the other part of him worried that perhaps no one had been able to escape through the pipes.

Mace wandered upwards, crawling up ladders that maintenance folk had used many years ago before the pipes stopped flowing. His right arm ached, the fabric he had tied to it in hopes of keeping it somewhat clean and free of infection threatening to come free. It took a while, but eventually, he was at the exit of the pipe system, the exit he had chosen leaving him be the main hall. He stretched his senses out, not trusting the Force to be able to tell the blank clones from the background hum of life on Coruscant. No footsteps echo on the stone floor, plastoid or otherwise. Mace tried not to think about what it meant that no one walked there. He peeled back the exit grate of the pipe and quietly walked out, turning to replace the grate before looking out across the main hall.

There was so many… so many people. He had known, deep down in the recesses of his mind. He had felt it in the emptiness of the Force, but it had not registered. He had not wanted to. The idea of his family butchered and left in their own home, it had been too much. Surely, not even the clones would have… they had trusted the clones. He trusted them too. None of them would have done such a thing, he could not believe it but the evidence laid itself in front of him. Mace leaned his head back against the wall, closing his eyes to simply take in the knowledge before he opened them again and saw the fallen Jedi once more. The knowledge settled across his shoulders paired with the weight of guilt. He had failed them all, failed his family. As Master of the Order, it was his duty to keep them all safe, but here they lay, dead, for Force knows how long.

Mace looked across the main hall, the horizon line only unbroken by the low bumps from the dead bodies. He felt so much and nothing at all. The empty feeling turned him somewhat numb, spreading across his arm and even lessening the pain of his arm and his rib. He swallowed, desperately trying to regain control before tearing his eyes away from the hall where he recognised every other figure. The closest body to him was that of a young twi’lek Padawan. Her beads lay splayed out on the stone floor, her eyes wide open, stuck in a permanent state of fear and betrayal. Mace knelt gently by her side, dirty robes pooling underneath him, and leant over, closing the eyes. He could not stand seeing that gaze boring into him. Mace rested his hand against her forehead for a moment, murmuring a prayer for the dead softly before turning his gaze to the silka beads. They had been trampled on, some of them ground into the floor with enough force to break them. The symbol of her relationship with the FOrce and her Master, the symbol of her apprenticeship lay broken and scattered around her. He reached out, unclipping it from the headband, intending to wrap it around her hand. A few of the beads began to fall apart as he shifted the braid, the pale blue clay crumbling into fine dust around her. In the end, the beads were hardly long enough to wrap around her hand, both a result of the amount which had been lost as well as the fact that she was simply so young. He rested back on his knees once he was finished, wishing he could burn the body as tradition dictated, but he simply could not. She was simply one in the thousand or so Jedi who had inhabited the Temple at the time.

In the distance, he heard a blaster bolt go off, followed quickly by the familiar hiss of a sabre. His hopes raised once more and he clambered up, heading towards the sound. There was someone, perhaps he was not alone. He still snuck along the corners, fearful of getting caught by some wayward clone squad. While not defenceless, he still did not want to get even more injured if possible. There was the telltale hum of a sabre returning to its hilt before only silence remained. Mace took in a few breaths, fortifying himself for a possible disappointment before turning the corner and peeking through.

“Mace!” Obi-Wan said, somehow managing to whisper as well as shout.” His eyes lit up with relief, though there was a sorrow carved into his eyes, biting even more years from the younger man. The edges of their presences, raw and hurting, tangled together on instinct in a greeting. It was only then, he noticed the shorter companion of Obi-Wan, and he almost wept in relief. Two people, while not much, still remained with him. He was not alone, not really. Yoda shot him a grim smile, ears drooping in sadness. “You… your hand.” Obi-Wan rushed forwards, reaching for the stump that was starting to get worryingly numb. Obi-Wan cradled it. “Mace… this is a lightsaber wound, what happened to you? What is going on here?” Mace, like many others, often found himself forgetting the true age of Obi-Wan as it was often hidden behind maturity and wisdom born out of necessity.

He opened his mouth to speak, trying to bring the proper words to explain to the man that beyond the corridors there lay piles of dead children, and that Obi-Wan’s brother had betrayed them and might even be complicity, but nothing came out other than a croaked out, “Palpatine… he was the Sith. Dooku’s Master.” Yoda grew more old and weary-looking. A weight settled on those shoulders and he seemed to shiver. “Obi-Wan there’s, Anakin… he’s-” But Obi-Wan was already moving past, likely assuming that Anakin was simply dead and laying in the corridor ahead. Indeed, Mace would have thought that the man would have died protecting children, but it appeared he had been wrong about many things. He reached out and grabbed his arm, “He… fell. And they’re dead. All… dead.” The familiar choking feeling rose again.

“What?” Obi-Wan breathed out, arm going limp as he stared blankly at Mace. “He… would not do such a thing.” Something seemed to dim the younger man’s eyes, hand raising to cover his mouth.

“Come, warn the other Jedi, we must. Safe, the Temple is not.” Yoda said seriously, though not without sympathy. A clawed hand released his walking stick from its tight grip, going to pat at Obi-Wan’s leg. There was little they could do. They had a job to do. The rest could wait until they were done.

#mace windu #obi wan kenobi #yoda #mace windu appreciation #mace windu appreciation week #order 66 #duna writes #star wars fanfic #fanfic

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lunarreaper-ut · 3 years

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Hello!! Just wondering a few things about appearance for Kingdomverse! I assume Nightmare never went through any type of transformation, and is still free of goop/tentacles? Also, what does everyone like to wear (specifically for the festivals n such)?

Oh this is a very interesting question!

Nightmare didn't really have the traditional change, no, but he did have a minor one! Rather than becoming all goopy and growing tentacles due to the corruption from the apples of negativity, like regular Nightmare, KV!Nightmare became more... Well it was similar to classic Nightmare, but it wasn't goop.

KV!Nightmare's magic takes the form of shadow, rather than goop. I would say he looked a lot more like a demon than a goop monster >w< I'll need to sketch that out eventually!

He also didn't stay like that the entire time he was ruling the Kingdom solo, it was more of an on and off change. He can technically will himself to do it at any time, but it's much harder to maintain without the right power source. KV!Nightmare's physical change is linked to his own emotions, along with the surplus of negativity he was getting from the people in the Kingdom.

What's interesting, is that Dream is also capable of this kind of transformation! If Dream were to get a large surplus of positive energy, along with his own positivity, he would go through a temporary physical change as well!

Now, as for people's preferred clothing choices? I'll stick with our main four boys for now, and if you're curious about others just let me know! (I might explain this poorly, I'm terrible at describing clothes >w<)

Killer

Killer prefers lighter clothing. He likes being able to move freely. He's fond of darker colors, preferably red. Honestly those are Killer's only real preferences, otherwise he doesn't care much about what he wears!

As for festival clothing? Well there's no specific attire for festivals, but if it's a special occasion, Killer might wear something a bit more formal. He'll also just wear whatever Nightmare says is appropriate.

Cross

Cross typically won't be seen without his armor unless it's his day off or he's relaxing. He wants to keep the image of "Perfect Royal Guard" intact for Dream. This usually includes festivals as well. He prefers a more monochrome color pallet, with yellow or gold accents.

Cross will usually just wear something more casual when he's relaxing, boots, shirt, trousers, that kinda stuff. Flashy isn't he preference.

Dream

Dream, being a King, typically wears something formal most of the time. He likes lighter colors, and though he wears a lot of gold and yellow, Dream actually likes the color purple! Dream likes clothing that flows, like cloaks/capes, or even dresses! He thinks it looks cool.(Though Dream rarely wears dresses, he usually does so in private since he has an image to uphold.)

Dream's festival attire varies depending on the event. If it's a gala, you can be sure he's wearing something a bit more glamorous. It makes him feel like when he was younger, before everything kinda went downhill.

Nightmare

Nightmare also prefers a darker color pallet for his clothing. He always wants to look regal, and his clothing choices reflect that. He typically wears any sort of "nighttime" colors. Blues, purples, blacks, with silver or white accents.

While he prefers to look regal, that certainly doesn't mean flashy. He wants to look like a King, not like a Fabergé egg. His festival attire is only slightly different from his usual attire. Maybe a bit brighter, a little more elegant, but no real big changes.

(I hope that answered your question, I'm really bad at describing clothes TwT)

#Thank you for the ask!#Kingdomverse?#Kingdomverse #KV!Nightmare #KV!Cross #KV!Dream #KV!Killer #answered asks

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sonicasura · 3 years

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Balan Wonderworld Review: Favorite Costumes Part 2

Before we get started, I like to say something. I ABSOLUTELY DESPISE TIM TRAPS. If you don't know, there is a specific plant that tends to appear in certain levels called Tim Traps. A carnivorous orange flower that's favorite meal is TIMS. If you kick the plants, you can free your Trapped Tim or prevent one from getting trapped for a short period of time. Problem is if the Tim is trapped for too long, your baby is gone for good. Chapter 3 and Chapter 5's Act 3 are loaded with these annoying plants. To the point if I can't find the trapped Tims, I exit out of the game just to save my poor fluffballs. Ain't sacrificing my little birds for Drops and Trophies! Mini rant over.

Rules are the same as before. I'd be ranking both a Common Costume and Rare Costume. Common Costumes are easily to find whether it be in multiple levels and Rare Costumes are those that rarely appear or are difficult to get.

I'll be doing my favorite Secret Costume after playing all Act 3s for each chapter. Now let's begin.

Chapter 7

Common Costume- Floaty Flower

The Flower Fairy and greatest glider found in the main story. Floaty Flower is a costume that can be found in the Act 1, 2 and the Boss Act, it offers a slower descent but faster movement than the hover for Soaring Sheep.

I love this costume not for its aesthetic but a cute Easter Egg I found in Chapter 7 Act 1. On rare occasions, this costume is an NPC that actually flirts with you! Some NPCs in certain chapters act differently from their standard counterpart. They often try to disguise themselves or runaway. Catching them grants you a free costume of the one you caught.

Floaty Flower will appear and follow you, similar to a shy school girl with a crush. If you go to her, she will run which is a similar action to any shy person getting approached by their crush. Also... I think there is some lore hidden in this one that might be quite sad if it's directly linked to Cal, the human whose heart created this particular world. If so then... OOF.

Rare Costume - Paladin Puncher

A knight fights with his fists than a sword. This costume can be found in Act 2 and is a stronger version of the Pumpkin Puncher that can break iron or ice blocks. He's a bit slower than his Chapter 6 counterpart but perfect breaking the more blocks and defeating spiky enemies.

I also love the fact this costume goes against the traditional tools of a knight. Knights often fight using swords, shields, lances and rare occasions bows or axes. If you give me one who PUNCHES or straight uses martial arts to fight then you got my vote in seconds.

Chapter 8

Common Costume - Snow Fairy

Elegant dancer of ice and snow. The Snow Fairy costume allows the wearer to walk on air for a short period of time and can in found in Act 1 and Act 2. This costume does have a shorter usage time than Air Cat but makes up for it with the added elevation.

I absolutely adore how elegant and beautiful this particular costume is. You can compare the Snow Fairy to myths often related to fae or hidden in the freezing mountains. An otherworldly beauty that makes any hardship worth seeing just a being before your eyes. Being a reindeer type Faun just adds to the mystique and creating snowflakes to walk on is a perfect extra touch.

Rare Costume - Amadeus

Sophisticated pianist. A costume that can only be found in Act 1 and is a performing costume. Now I am a big fan of piano covers, whether it be covers of game osts or actual songs, there is rarely any piano music I don't like.

I love the fact he's wearing piano keys as a collar and even has a tutu made out of those very keys. A very creative take to a normally grounded instrument. And the big white wig is a nice touch since it's often portrayed with pianists in various media.

Chapter 9

Common Costume- Iron Panda

Adorable crusher. Iron Panda is a costume found in Act 1 and Act 2 with the ability to break iron blocks using both its jump and weight. This costume is surprisingly fast for a rather large and heavy form, perfect for fast stomps on enemies or quick getaways if you have rare costumes you don't want to lose.

This costume reminds of a rolling Russian Doll with a panda theme. Very adorable, the bluish purple color suits the white very nicely and I love that sleepy look on its face. The large blue dots on its sides are actually the arms too, they mimic panels! Only thing that unnerves me is when the costume turns their head by a 90 degree angle. Super creepy when using it.

Rare Costume- Merry Ghost

Cute and Spooky! The Merry Ghost is a costume that can be found in Act 2 and gives the ability to constantly float. It's main purpose is to avoid ground hazards like poison swamps and has a larger slightly floaty jump. The only downside is that you can't harm enemies with this, it's only for quick mobility.

Very adorable especially with the stitched rag cloak covering the body. It has this Mimikyu sort of vibe but also a Casper the Friendly Ghost aura too. Friendly spirits are often tossed aside for more vicious or antagonistic ones in a lot of media. Getting an adorable friendly one just adds points in my book and a good pal for Casper.

Chapter 10

Common Costume - Inky Blaster

Yuji Naka's take on a squid kid. This costume can be found in Act 1, Act 2 and the Boss Act. She allows the wearer to throw fast globs of rainbow paint at opponents or targets and is decently agile.

Love that her hands are paintbrushes and is based on the octopus. Tentacles mimicking the frills of a dress and used for hair and feet? A very creative take and splattering rainbow paint on the annoying types of Negati (looking at you ya divebomb happy Pelican and destroyer of most of my good costumes) is very therapeutic.

Rare Costume- Air Unicorn

The first unicorn I like?! This costume can only be found in Act 1 and allows the user to walk on air farther than Air Cat. The practical godfather of mobility, and recovery. You won't believe how many times this costume has gotten me to very difficult areas and saved me from death via falling into the abyss.

It is a very tricky costume to find but if you turn around, there's a large paintbrush on the wall. You need the Double Jumper to get on top but you'll be able to see a hidden mirror. That is where the Air Unicorn is located.

I won't lie that unicorns are not my preferred mythological creature. I live in America where unicorns tend to be oversaturated to oblivion and don't get me started on My Little Pony. The show isn't my cup of tea but I do have some followers and friends who are fans. People have their own opinions and it's rude to question them about it.

I honestly love the elegant but cute design, the purple, pale pink and cyan just fit well with the white, I also love that the mane mimics a paintbrush tip and the large light purple collar of fur is a perfect touch to this fine design.

Chapter 11

Common Costume - Bulldozer

A man's punny best friend! This costume can be in Act 1, Act 2 (?), and the Boss Act. It lets you push special construction blocks and you can boost the push speed by button mashing.

They definitely took a lot of creative for costumes in Chapter 11 amongst the other ones in my opinion. Fire Stations tend to have some animal companions with dogs being the most common but instead of a Dalmatian for the design they used a Bulldog! 😍

Like the aforementioned machine, this good boy is bulky, has the appropriate color scheme and even the hands turn into bulldozer's shovel when using the ability! I love the fact his tail is wagging when you push a block and it wags faster if ya button mash!

Also the name is a pun!

Rare Costume - Fiery Blaster

Pyromancer of Lions. The Fiery Blaster costume can only be found in Act 2. It gives the wearer that ability to throw large fireballs alongside fire and lava immunity. If you hate lava levels or have difficulty with this Chapter's boss then I recommend getting this Costume.

First thing I like to say about this particular design is how they use the colors. Looking at the mane, you can see how the red and darker red are patterned in a way to mimic flames. The dark red fur on the feet are even in fire like a pattern. The outfit such as the yellow and brownish kilt alongside the gloves spewing fire around the wrists just reminds me of a fire dancer.

I can see this fella wielding one of the torches a fire dancer uses and just put on a spectacular show.

Chapter 12

Another loveable version of a beloved icon. The Invisible Man costume can be found in Act 1, Act 2 and the Boss Act. It has the power to turn the wearer invisible for a period of time and become undetected to enemies that aren't bosses.

Agile and perfect to deal with enemies who are very annoying or are difficult snipers. You don't know how satisfying it is to give the more aggravating Negati an invisible middle finger by sneak attacking them. I have lost many costumes whenever enemies got the drop on me so it's fair to dish out payback.

I love how this design takes aspect from the popular icon but also have it relate to their human counterpart. Bandages were used by the original Invisible Man to cover skin his normal clothing couldn't cover in public and made it easier for him to disappear when needed.

The shoes and arms being covered in bandages and some of the bandages being used as bangs for the hair is a nice touch.

Rare Costume - Jolt Tiger

Immovable Taser. This costume can only be found in Act 2. It grants electricity immunity and create a barrier when you stand still. One of the better costumes for baiting particular enemies. You do have to be careful because a single itch will stop the barrier.

If you don't know, the Tiger is my Chinese Zodiac and electricity is one of my favorite elements. Love the yellow lightning bolt flairs and even the black stripes mimic lightning too! I also like the will o' wisp pattern on the stomach and the large tuft of grayish fur around the chest. The design puts it above the Sun Walker.

And that is it! The next thing I will cover is the level design and it's music. The bosses will be done last since it's good to save the best for last!

Until next time folks, see you back in Wonderworld.

#balan company #balan wonderworld #fuck square enix #balan company's innocent #sonicasura #mun sonicasura #game review #my personal opinion #fucksquareenix #balan wonderland #balan wonderworld costumes #favorite costumes #personal favorites

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yourlocalorcishbandit · 3 years

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Here’s the first part of my first story!

Warnings: some violence mentioned, a few swears that’s all I think

part 2 https://yourlocalorcishbandit.tumblr.com/post/646294553661423616/an-orcs-promise-part-2

Part 3: https://yourlocalorcishbandit.tumblr.com/post/646373247166906368/an-orcs-promise-part-3

Part 4: https://yourlocalorcishbandit.tumblr.com/post/646477938321244160/an-orcs-promise-part-4

Part: 5 https://yourlocalorcishbandit.tumblr.com/post/646486100736638976/an-orcs-promise-part-5

The chosen: Ellera https://yourlocalorcishbandit.tumblr.com/post/646559933035364352/an-orcs-promise

The chosen: Oridan https://yourlocalorcishbandit.tumblr.com/post/646771371691622400/an-orcs-promise

The chosen: Killian https://yourlocalorcishbandit.tumblr.com/post/647330998732881920/an-orcs-promise

The chosen: All https://yourlocalorcishbandit.tumblr.com/post/647482818600009728/an-orcs-promise

An Orcs Promise

You lived in a simple and small village in the middle of a valley not too far from a forest of fae, an ocean filled with water dwellers, a stronghold of orcs up in the mountains and a field of centaurs.

Everything was about a days trip away by horse, by foot it was typically two to three days worth of travel. It was worth it however, your village thrived with the amount of trading that was available to them. Fae providing seed and saplings already in growth, the water dwellers granting you safe travel or bountiful baskets of fish, the centaurs allowing land share for your crops and the orcs, they provided live stock and hunting goods as well as strong work hands. Doing things you humans couldn’t really do.

You lived a simple life in your simple village as a woodsmith not exactly what it’s called but you liked the title. No you couldn’t do blacksmithing it just didn’t suit you unlike it did your father and gardening/crop tending didn’t feel right like it did for your mother. So you turned to wood, of course you helped your parents but you just preferred to stick to your own, like carving or maybe the occasional building and repairing. Because of your skills you were often called ‘too manly’ and your parents were told “good luck marrying you off” however they didn’t want to do that, you’re too helpful around the shops and farm.

Your mother is a fae and your father is a human giving you some funny features and hair. Your eyes seemed like they could shift colour and you had magic freckles that disappeared with the sun. Long and wild hair that couldn’t be tamed. Your mother always made sure to call you beautiful and your father always made sure to teach you how to throw a punch. But enough of all this back story let’s talk about how three of your favourite orcs are battling in your families shop.

The twins and their older sister going full throttle displaying their strength wits and ability to strategize. It had started off as any other Saturday you were in your own shop your mother in the fields and your father in his shop. You were working on a carving to trade with one of the centaurs for a spot on their bountiful fields to grow a few trees for your upcoming project. A place of your own. You were ready to move out and start new, of course you didn’t want to leave your parents but they’ve been leaving a few hints here and there. They were ready to let you go and fly from the nest. Cheesy as that sounds that’s just how your parents are.

Heavily lost in your work until a soft moss green hand lifted your chin to face her. Ellera the eldest of the three Thundered, you always giggled at their last name but it made sense they sounded like a thunder storm when they all came roaming around.

Your face went bright red as you jumped from surprise. “Oh Ellera!!!! It’s good to see you, sorry I just got lost in my own world again.. what can I help you with?” Your voice was soft as you set your things down and put your full attention onto the orcess in front of you.

“Well my lamb you could start by getting me mother some of those boards for hackin as well as rod for the seas “ Her voice was strong and full of power with a heavy accent but it always held some softness just for you. Smiling brightly as you grabbed a few different types of cutting boards and chopping blocks for Ellera to pick from. Lastly was your prized fishing rod, carved from the finest tree you ever saw. Your best handy work.

“Take your pick! The thicker the block the more force it can handle. And this is the best of the best in my shop, just for you.” Smiling so sweet you would cause a cavity as you watched her face grow a darker shade of green. It was always your own personal mission to make Ellera blush you couldn’t help it. She was just perfect no matter what she did or how she did it.

“So you make these boards like yourself mm ??? The thicker the more you can handle~” Waltzing up beside Ellera was the older of the twins Oridan the flirtatious goof. Now it was your turn once more to blush bright in the face. Ellera on the other hand scoffed as she smacked him upside the head.

“Hasn’t mother taught ya manners you ass.” Ellera rolled her eyes but was her brother wrong? Lastly to join your conversation Killian the youngest of the family. As well as the smallest but compared to you he was still a giant. They all had tree trunk thighs, gorgeous muscles, beautifully braided and decorated hair and ears. Tribal tattoos that littered every inch of their body you wished to explore. Now now reel those thoughts back in.. “as you were saying lamb which is best for meat and which for vegetables “

Drawing you back from your thoughts you shook your head. “This one has thicker boards and the grain is going this way meaning it’ll absorb the force. Better for meats and such. This one is thinner with grain this way meaning it’s better for slicing and all” you could talk about this stuff for hours but you didn’t want to bore the siblings.

“Then we’ll get them” Ellera spoke so kindly as she took the boards under her arm and into her satchel. You knew the rest of their family would prefer to pay as one rather than separately and possibly underpaying your family. No overpaying wasn’t their issue they were happy to do so, it was possibly underpaying you that they worried about. Your family always took good care of them when they needed, the first of your village to show them such kindness and hospitality.

“Oh Ellera here I have something for you.” Gingerly taking the orcesses hand in your own you lead her to your little safe. Digging around the box for a moment you found what you were searching for. A beautiful hand crafted obsidian necklace. You knew orcish traditions you knew this was you asking Ellera to court you. “It’s obsidian, it’s too heavy of a stone for me so I thought you would like it. W-Will you accept..”

“You know what this means correct??” You were no dummy of course you knew, so you gently nodded your head. “Of course l will it’s beautiful thank you my lamb.” Ellera smiled brightly and turned to her brothers with an all knowing smirk. “ suck it losers I have won!!!!! My dearest little lamb had chosen me. Now butt out of the shop before I take both of your heads and put them on a platter. “ You couldn’t help but snicker a bit at her words, it’s just how she was with those two.

Now this leads us to where we are at the moment. Ellera taking off her satchel and her necklace before brawling it out with her brothers. You hadn’t known the twins also had an eye for you, looking around your shop there stand their parents with your own. All of them had the what the hell happened and is going on look. You could only smile sheepishly as you weaved your way through the mass of limbs colliding with one another. “So I’ve asked Ellera if we could court per orcish tradition and I didn’t even know the twins had a thing for me. And now their battling it out because the twins think Ellera had an unfair advantage and can you please stop them before they break anything in my shop??? Oh and Mrs. Thundered I had Ellera pick out some lovely cutting boards and butchers blocks for you !! “ The orc parents laughed and shook their heads at your little story. They can deal with all this after they save your shop from being ripped apart.

Mrs. Thundered grabbed Ellera with most of her might and tossed the girl over her shoulder. While Mr. Thundered grabbed the two boys and held them apart like bickering cats. “Now before you break this lovely shop why the hell are you all fighting. I swear we raised you better than to fight inside. “ Mrs. Thundered spoke sternly as she glared at all of her children. Collecting all the items they have picked out you rang them up while the parents took their kids outside and had a much different conversation than in the shop.

It took maybe twenty minutes of waiting before the orc family came back inside. The boys a flustered mess and Ellera grumpily huffing and sighing as her mother held her back. “Boys. Go. “ you laughed a bit at how large they were compared to you but yet in this moment they seemed so small. “Boys.” Her tone was much sterner maybe the sternest you had ever heard. Tilting your head up to the twins you smiled softly .

“W-Will you accept our own courting gifts.. and by the end of the courting months you can pick who wish to be with the most. “ it was Killian who spoke which surprised you he was always so shy and cautious of his words.

“I mean it’ll obviously be me.. I don’t even know why we have to wait months! Right sugar ???” Oridan made you laugh as he nudged his brother aside to hand you his gift. A simply terribly carved handle but with a beautiful dagger blade attached. You had no idea how he even managed to do such small carvings in the metal. “I know the handle isn’t pretty but I thought maybe you would help me with that.. “ now all of a sudden his loud and boisterous self was no more than just like his twin.

Killian however seemed a bit more confident with his gift a beautiful fur lined cloak. You had no idea he could sew.. “Boys these are both beautiful in their own ways.. but Ellera..?? How would it work what if I can’t choose ? What will happen then ? A fight to the death? “ Ellera nodded and pulled out her own gift she didn’t need to give it to you but she wanted to. Just to out shine her brothers once more. It was a crystal vase with preserved flowers encased inside.

“It wouldn’t be to the death just to where the other two can no longer rise to their feet. Any other orc yes to the death. “ Oridan spoke up once more, you loved all of them but you never thought the twins were interest in you Oridan maybe but, that was just you thinking he was joking. “So please.. will you accept?”

“I will, all three of us can court each other. Until then you need to work on your wood skills how did you not loose a finger and Krillian this is gorgeous I didn’t know you could sew like this. Ellera of course this is gorgeous but what if it breaks ?? What if I shatter it ???? “ The orcess simply laughed and shook her head.

“It can’t shatter I promise hun how can I promise such a thing, well me and my big man hands made it. “ Ellera smiled willy her dark oak brown eyes shining gleefully as she started down to you. Puffing out her chest showing off her muscles it was her final display of strength before her mother dragged her off to the horses.

“I look forward to this.. I haven’t always been able to sew just with the changing seasons I thought you would get cold so I took up the skill for you. “ That immediately made your heart melt. Killian took up a whole hobby just to be able to provide for you. With his Killian getting the last day of the three siblings they all went off on their way home.

Oh dear, how could you choose..

#fantasy #fanfic #fluff #reader insert #orc girlfriend #orc boyfriend #orcs #orc siblings #exophilia #fighting over you

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fericita-s · 3 years

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The Princess and the Barbarian

A Helnik tale, rated T. As Matthias recovers from a gunshot wound, Nina tells him the story of the Princess and the Barbarian. He interrupts a lot as his Fjerdan sensibilities are bothered and the Ravkan propaganda gets to be unbearable. Thank you @theburnbarreljester for beta-ing and for saying volcra can behave however I want them to in this story.

Previous Chapters

Chapter 4

Inessa drank from the goblet her mother had given her, gripping tightly on the stem. It had a strange smell and wasn’t altogether pleasant, but the Empress had urged her, saying it would help with the private festivities Inessa and the Duke would enjoy that evening.

The Duke. Her husband.

She looked across the pavilion that had been erected on the riverbank and could see him shaking hands and accepting well wishes from the Ravkan elite. The structure had been built especially for their wedding, draped in gauzy white lace and alabaster roses which reflected in the clear river below. Cakes and blinis and lamb shashlyk were piled on tables draped in fabrics bearing the Ravkan crest and the Duke’s coat of arms, all underneath the shade of bowers heavy with peonies and tulips.

But all of the opulence seemed sinister with the Shadow Fold looming on the other side of the river. It rose impossibly high in the air, a huge mass of roiling darkness and smoke that seemed bound by an invisible barrier. Inessa tried not to take it as a sign of what was to come in her marriage but it did seem a bad omen. She took another sip of her drink, beginning to notice how it seemed to unfurl something inside of her. Loosening how stiffly she was holding herself.

Her husband seemed happy enough, though whether it was about being married to her or about his own gain in status, she couldn’t tell. It didn’t really matter. With any luck she could continue to be as free as she had been at the Grand Palace, perhaps even travel to The True Sea and experiment with coastal materials she’d only read about.

The Duke had been bearable during the wedding rite and all of the parties leading up to it, though barely. He’d lavished her with opulent jewels and luxurious furs and a set of finely made dishes painted with her likeness which seemed more like a way for him to brandish his wealth than as true gifts.

At least there wouldn’t be a bedding ceremony like in her grandmother’s day or The Bruderov like her parents’. Her brother had declined to continue that tradition of kidnapping the bride at his wedding, saying his sweet wife could not bear to be parted from him even for the amusement of the guests. He had served the finest kvas and no one complained about missing the traditional ransom exchange, a way of remembering when Fjerdans used to drag Ravkan women back to their tundra to build and work and bear children unless given a sufficient payment. Now the barbarians seemed content to eat putrid fish, befriend wolves, and worship ash trees. They rarely trespassed south of the border.

She was wondering how blackweed or sea kelp would feel, how she might graft them into the hull of a ship or the lining of a dive suit to increase insulation when strong arms grabbed her from behind, lifting her so quickly that her glass goblet fell to the floor and smashed into shards on the wooden platform. Guests turned and she saw their looks of surprise and amusement before she was thrown roughly across the back of a horse, no more gracefully than the dry goods delivery man might load a sack of flour.

“What are you doing? Stop!” she shouted, but the gathered crowd just laughed.

She heard a man call out “Someone’s kidnapped your bride, Duke, better get that ransom ready!” and then a woman’s voice “Oh I didn’t think we’d have The Bruderov! What a treat!”

The man who had thrown her across the horse didn’t respond except to leap up behind her, grab hold of her waist with one hand and the reins with the other. Then they were galloping up the embankment and away from the reception. Thunder was growling in the distance and she hoped she could be exchanged before a downpour. She thought of her husband down below, no doubt enjoying this entertainment, and thought she might hate him. Of course he’d want a chance to display his wealth with a show of coin.

Her captor was dressed for the role of barbarian. He had on leather pants with metal fastenings and Inessa could see knives strapped to his waist and thigh. His long blonde hair was bound in several scattered braids and his beard was full and slightly darker. He was wearing boots and a bearskin cloak on his tall broad frame and she thought this must be what a bear smelled like - earth and sweat and crushed pine. He’d brought them to the crest of the hill above the river and spoke to her in Fjerdan as he roughly pulled her down from the horse.

“Be still. Be silent. And watch.”

“There’s no need to silence me, I know what this is.” Inessa licked her lips, frustrated that her words seemed slower in leaving her body than she could think them, annoyed with her mother for suggesting she drink so deeply at dinner.

“You speak Fjerdan?”

“I speak six languages. It’s part of my job.”

“Your job. To be your kingdom’s whore?”

“I - “ but her retort to his insolence was cut short with the repeating sound of thunder and the piercing cries of something not quite human.

The volcra were coming out of the Shadow Fold.

Even from a distance, Inessa could see their sharp teeth and smell the foulness coming from them. The wedding guests were screaming and running but the volcra swooped down and ripped arms and legs and slashed across faces. Blood was running into the clear river below, making the wooden platform slick. People were slipping in it, panicking as they tried to escape the swooping attacks. Inessa saw her father put an arm around her mother and then both of them fall, skewered by the long talon of a volcra who bit into her mother’s middle.

Inessa fell to her knees and covered her mouth, feeling like she was doing everything too slowly, that everything was happening too fast. The barbarian grabbed her arm and roughly pulled her back to her feet.

“You know what this is? Who is doing this? Who controls this?”

“No - I don’t know,” she said, strangling on the words.

“You said you know what this was.”

“I thought - I meant you. I know my husband hired you to kidnap me for The Bruderov.”

The barbarian looked at her blankly. “I do nothing for Ravkans. I seek the truth of this abomination.” He gestured toward the Shadow Fold and Inessa looked at the carnage below. She avoided looking at the place where her parents had fallen but in turning saw the Duke’s head on top of one of the bowers, a trail of blood down the once-white flowers.

“I have no idea what this is,” she said, barely a whisper.

The volcra were still swooping down below but one tilted its head at an impossible angle, looking towards their vantage point.

The barbarian didn’t say anything, just threw her on the horse once more and then mounted behind her. She clutched at his thighs so she wouldn’t fall off and felt him press his chest against her back. The smell of the volcra seemed to be getting closer and without considering she pressed both of her hands against his legs more firmly and called to the leather, called to the individual molecules that made it up, making the material fuse together so tightly that it would be impermeable. She felt him breath sharply where they were joined at her back and she moved her hands to his furs as well, repeating the process.

He was urging his horse at a fast gallop as they continued through the dense forest. Branches began ripping at her dress and she tried to summon the same force to protect herself but the heaviness that had been weighing down her words and made her hands fall limply. The barbarian snaked a hand around her waist and gripped her tighter. She let her body fall against him. As her thoughts continued to slow and her eyelids grew heavy, she gripped his legs and focused on his broad chest against her back, his hand anchoring her, instead of the receding shrieks and the image of her parents dead and dying.

Inessa woke to him pulling her roughly off of the horse. She stumbled and then fell to the ground. The barbarian began to build a fire and then, when the first sparks had caught, took off his cloak and his pants and threw them in the fire.

“None of your witchcraft, that’s what brought this darkness to the edge of our land. Now take off your dress.”

#helnik #helnik fan fic #post crooked kingdom #Matthias lives #the princess and the barbarian #Matthias Helvar #Nina Zenik #shadow and bone #six of crows

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vixensheart · 4 years

Text

Forbidden, We’ve Fallen

Twilight was Eijirou’s favorite time of day.

It seemed odd, perhaps, to the casual acquaintance. After all, Eijirou was boisterous and loud, and he was often told he rivalled the sun in its brightness and fervor. So why would he enjoy the time of day when the sun began its departure?

He couldn’t entirely explain it. Not with words, anyway. It was all in the sensations; the air, cooling down, caressing his sun-warmed skin. The quiet, as animals and people began to settle down. Soft birdsong and occasional rustling of the leaves in the trees. Spots of lights, dancing through the woods; the fireflies always came out, now. Eijirou loved looking at them and the way they glowed.

His favorite thing, though, was the company.

A crunch of a twig had Eijirou’s focus, and he peered into the darkening wood to see a flash of red cloth swishing at the forest floor. He grinned. “Took you long enough,” he said, voice low. He was met with a grunt.

“I couldn’t get away from the damned hag.”

Bakugou Katsuki, son of the Chieftain, stepped out from the shadows, his face curled in disdain. It softened as his gaze met Eijirou’s, something that had Eijirou’s heart stuttering in his chest. He grinned, giddy, and sighed as their arms brushed. “Yeah?” he said. Bakugou just grumbled.

“Let’s go spar, fucker.”

He stalked off ahead, cloak swishing behind him.

It was their nightly ritual. Eijirou wasn’t entirely sure how it started, really. A dare, perhaps? Ultimately, it didn’t matter. They were young men with boundless energy and adrenaline, just at the cusp of adulthood and responsibility but not quite there yet. One thing led to the next, and here they were. Meeting up at sunset to hike to a nearby clearing, away from the main village proper, and sparring like men.

Their matches were fun and vigorous, and helped them both let off steam. And, judging by the taut line of Bakugou’s shoulders, he was in great need of such a thing.

To be fair, Eijirou did too.

Restless energy buzzed under his skin, making him itch. He had felt this way most of today, too. Eijirou grimaced. He shook himself, as if that would shake today’s…everything from his mind, and jogged to catch up to Bakugou instead.

The forest gave way into a small clearing, where the grass was worn down towards the center. There were clumps, of course, growing waist tall. Fireflies dotted the space, orange light flickering as they flit about in the brisk evening air. Bakugou unclasped his cloak, then, and tossed it over a low hanging branch. And, oh. Eijirou sucked in a breath, gaze raking over the rippling muscles of his back. A traditional tattoo decorated his shoulder, a dark mark in the low light. Bakugou turned, then, brow raised. “Ready?” That cocky smirk of his lit his features, accompanied by the dangerous gleam in his eyes that always managed to get Eijirou’s heart pumping. He grinned right back, knocking his fists together.

“Always.”

And then they fell onto each other in a flurry of fists and manic energy. Glee burst forth from Eijirou as he dodged and parried, flinging a punch and throwing his weight about. He loved this. The feel of Bakugou’s fists pounding into his sides, fingers trying to dig into his shoulders. Sweat dripped down his forehead, dirt and grass flew about, and Bakugou’s wild grin glowed amid the falling darkness and blinking fireflies.

If there was one way Eijirou would describe Bakugou’s fighting style, it would be explosive. He was an unstoppable force, coming at Eijirou with blow after blow, all offense. And Eijirou, well. He was all defense. Arms up, blocking blow after blow after blow. But he didn’t waver in the face of Bakugou’s barrage. He was a boulder, steadfast and unmoving, watching, waiting for the right moment to strike.

That moment came, when Bakugou backed off, winding up for a roundhouse kick. Eijirou swung out, sweeping his feet from under him in a low kick. But Bakugou was anything but unprepared. He rolled with the fall, landing on his feet and springing. The momentum threw Eijirou back into the dirt with a grunt. They tussled, then, trying to each gain the upper hand. Scratches and grunts and skin on skin- it was euphoric. Eijirou grasped at Bakugou, attempting to use his larger weight to pin him, but his friend was quick and evaded, rolling to the side and pouncing again. But Eijirou saw that coming, and they rolled. He tried to grasp Bakugou’s arms and pin him, but Bakugou wasn’t having it. He clung to Eijirou by wrapping his legs around his waist and squeezed. In a flash and a grunt, Eijirou found himself on his back, blinking up at Bakugou’s burning grin.

His breath lodged itself in his throat, and the fight left him as he stared openly. Bakugou had an arm against his chest, smoldering gaze alfame with victory as he leaned close. A bead of sweat slid down his nose, and Eijirou bit his lip.

“Pinned ya’,” Bakugou murmured, grin wide and dangerous. And hell, Eijirou was entranced. Words failed him, then, and he could do little more than raise a shaking hand and brush his fingers against the crook of Bakugou’s elbow. There was a shift, then, and Bakugou’s grin faded, but the intensity of his gaze remained. Eijirou was lost in an inferno of reds and golds, skin tingling all over.

An eternity passed, and Eijirou’s breath hitched as Bakugou’s gaze flickered down to his lips. One beat, two, and Bakugou lurched forward, catching him in a heated kiss.

Kissing Bakugou, Eijirou found, was wildly addicting. He tasted sweet, like blackberries plucked from the bushes around their village, and something else he could never fully explain. Bakugou slid his tongue against his bottom lip, making Eijirou suck in a breath. His hands wandered, tracing over firm biceps and sliding up to strong, wide shoulders. Eijirou let his hand curl into the soft hairs at the nape of Bakugou’s neck.

Bakugou huffed a sound, a soft moan, and pressed even closer, licking into Eijirou’s mouth sweetly. The sweet taste was headier, now, and Eijirou couldn’t get enough. He nibbled at Bakugou’s lip as they kissed again and again.

After what had to be an eternity, they pulled apart. It was darker, now, past twilight. Ejirou could see dark shadows cutting across Bakugou’s features. They were close, still, noses brushing and breath mingling. Bakugou sighed and rested his forehead on Eijirou’s.

“Katsuki,” he breathed, reverent. Bakugou huffed and pressed closer. Cricketsong filled the air, alongside a gentle breeze rustling the leaves. Eijirou shivered. The night’s chill was slowly starting to set in, but he had little desire to move from Bakugou’s embrace.

“I got matched today.”

Eijirou stiffened. His chest constricted and he held Bakugou tighter. Ah, of course. That was why he seemed so...stressed. Eijirou chewed his lip. “Yeah?”

Bakugou huffed again. “Yeah.” He curled around Eijirou, then, nuzzling his face into the crook of his neck. “The damn Hag decided to pair me with some commoner chick. S’fucking stupid.” His words were slurred, muted as Bakugou spoke into Eijirou’s skin, his breath ghosting over his neck and spreading goosebumps in its wake. Eijirou hummed, fingers still combing through Bakugou’s hair.

Matchmaking. It was an old tradition, one that carried weight in their village. It helped it flourish, the elders said. Kept things healthy. Kept things growing. Eijirou wasn’t so sure about that, though.

Skin pressed against skin, and the prince’s soft breaths against his neck, Eijirou couldn’t think of anything better. After all, it was Bakugou who’d helped him grow into the hunter he was today. It was Bakugou who looked after him, kept him healthy by tending his wounds and scolding him. His match, on the other hand, was someone he hardly knew. Someone who he spoke to only in passing.

She was kind, he knew. Outgoing. She wasn’t afraid of anything, it seemed. He envied that. Eijirou was afraid of many things. Of not being good enough, or strong enough.

He was afraid most, though, of losing this.

This solid weight pressing him down, into the dirt. Muscular arms curled around him, rough, calloused palms caressing his shoulders, arms, neck. Sweet, heady kisses to his neck, jaw, lips. Oh, Eijirou knew he had no chance of being matched with Bakugou. He was a prince, after all, the Prince. The chieftain's son, the future of their people. Tradition dictated that he take a wife, provide an heir.

Tradition, Eijirou thought, was pretty stupid.

“We should get back,” Bakugou said, quiet, reluctant. He made no move to get off Eijirou, though. If anything, he nuzzled even closer. Eijirou pressed a kiss to the side of his temple, soft hair tickling his nose.

He sighed. If only they could stay here, entangled together in the grass, with lingering kisses and wandering hands. Sometimes, Eijirou thought about running away. Just the two of them, together, versus the world. No traditions binding them down.

It was a good dream.

Too soon, Bakugou rolled off him. “C’mon, Ei.”

Eijirou sucked in a breath. Warmth spread through him like it always did when Bakugou used his given name, and he took the hand offered to him. He watched Bakugou stalk over to his cloak, still hanging from its branch, and tugged it loose. He clasped it around his shoulders, looking once more the part of the regal Prince.

Side by side they walked, back through the woods, arms brushing. Eijirou’s chest ached with the want, no, need, to entwine their fingers, but he didn’t dare. He didn’t do more than walk so close their shoulders bumped more often than not. But Bakugou knew him all too well, and he linked their pinkies, something easy to hide in the darkening night.

Ahead, Eijirou could make out the twinkling lights of their village proper. His heart felt leaden in his chest as dread seeped its way into his veins. Twilight was his favorite time of day, and night, was his least. Eijirou dreaded the night. Hated it, even. There was a sense of finality to it. Nighttime was the end. End of the day...end of their nightly spars… It was the end of their safety net, the time when they had to return to reality, pretending that the flush to their faces was only because of their ritual sparring, and not because of soft kisses and gentle caresses.

Reflexively, he squeezed Bakugou’s pinky, speaking without words like they often did.

I love you.

I miss you.

Please don’t let me go.

Bakugou slowed tugging Eijirou into a stop. He peered at Eijirou then, gaze crackling with something that had Eijirou’s breath lodging in his throat. He shifted, stepping closer, sliding their hands more firmly together, gaze darting wildly about, before settling on Eijirou again. “Ei,” he said, voice low and rough.

“Mm?”

He tugged his hand free from Eijirou’s and reached up, grasping the necklace around his neck. It was a traditional necklace, woven from the wool of their finest yaks, intricately beaded and decorated with fangs of Bakugou’s conquests. The design was fairly simple, but the beads themselves were not. Blue stones, taken, cut, and polished from the streams at their northern border. Red rubies, taken from the Bakugou family treasury, polished and crafted into geometric cylinders. Necklaces like it were common in their village; a family crest of sorts. Each one had a different design, a different woven pattern. Eijirou had one, actually; his father had helped him make it, teaching him how to weave the wool into the different criss-crosses, how to ensnare the beads and best show them off.

He rarely wore it, as it was intended, apparently, for his betrothed. His match.

Eijirou watched as Bakugou untied his from around his neck and held it out in his outstretched palm, gaze burning and bright. “Take it,” he said. Eijirou blinked. He...he wasn’t. Was he?

“Dude...what?”

Bakugou growled and thrust the necklace to his chest, leaning close enough that his breath tickled Eijirou’s face. “You know what I mean, Ei.”

His breath hitched. And oh, he did. With shaking hands, he took the necklace, running his fingers over the beads. Oh, shit. Did Katsuki know what this meant? By the way he was staring, gaze intent and smoldering, it seemed he did. Eijirou met his stare head on, heart beating wildly in his chest. “Tie it on me.”

Bakugou grinned.

And so Eijirou learned to hate the night a little less, as Bakugou stepped closer still and tied the betrothal necklace around his neck, the teeth and beads tickling his sternum. He learned to enjoy the dark a little more when Bakugou pressed stolen kisses along the corner of his mouth, whispering nothings into his ear before he pulled away. And even the chill couldn’t stop the warmth spreading through his chest because there, at the base of his neck, tucked carefully under his smock, was a beaded necklace labelling him as Bakugou’s.

And Eijirou was more than okay with that.

END

#kiribaku #kiribaku week 2020 #day three #bnha #my hero academia

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nomadicism · 4 years

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Now that She Ra is over, what are your thoughts on it? What about that Catradora kiss?

Hi Anon! Thank you for the Ask!

ヽ(*⌒∇⌒*)ﾉ Where to start?

I have so many thoughts on the show, and I’ve had so many thoughts since season 1. I’ve not written much of anything about She-Ra because I keep coming back to this problem of ‘where to start,’ or how to structure my thoughts beyond a +1000 item list. I can’t even pick one or two thoughts to dive into, because they all end up connecting to everything else —> honestly, that’s the mark of a tight narrative, even the big pieces that can fully stand on their own are still leading through to another piece. I fail at every attempt to write something brief.

Section I: Short answer first.

I have a very short and subjective list of media where I not only love (for different reasons) nearly every character (main, secondary, background), but where I also feel that their individual places or moments or arcs concluded in a way that felt right from start to finish. It’s a short list of media where connections and conflict between characters never felt forced, out-of-place, out-of-context, or done for shock value. She-Ra and the Princesses of Power makes that very short and subjective list.

It’s not often that a story hits all the right notes with me, and it’s much more often that a story starts off strong like that, and then turns me off ½-⅔ of the way through. I’ve quit video games during the final boss fight because the story lost me in the lead-up and I wasn’t going to waste 10-20 minutes of my time for something that turned out to be ‘meh’. It ain’t got to be deep, or anything either.

I really loved the voice acting. Everyone is great. A post for another time.

I love the aesthetics, which I wasn’t sure of at first teasers, but won me over in less than 3 minutes of the first episode (season 1) because I love bright pastels, the character designs are fun (can I still gush over variety of body types? YES), so many opportunities to explore stylish takes on the characters, and those Moebius-inspired scenery/background designs are a special interest delight. Season 5 delivered a visual ‘end game’ for the aesthetics in many ways, Section III further down will get into that a bit.

Section II: “What about that Catradora kiss?”

I gotta preface this with, shipping is not my go-to for how I enjoy creative works. It’s not a hobby for me. Sure there’s a few I dig more than others, but I’m otherwise agnostic about ships, unless there is a really bad story-fit (and that’s usually a subjective thing), or involves tropes that are a deal-breaker for me (and those typically relate a lot to the story fit).

With that said, I’m really happy to see Catradora be pulled off so brilliantly, and I think the kiss is a bold and beautiful big deal in a way that might not be obvious when considered in a vacuum. I see it as passionate and heart-felt, but also, it’s achieving(?) a relatable outcome (for me at least) that’s hard to describe. It’s an outcome yielded by a story in which two women—a hero and a villain—are divided and fight bitterly and then reconcile through love, while fighting a purity cult whose founder-prophet-god-king forces subservience through a conversion designed to strip someone of their identity (e.g. names they’ve chosen for themselves), memories-and-motivations, and love for others.

Despite these conversions, love still remains, it can’t just be baptized or therapy-ed away. Controlling puritans and authoritarians wielding religion or peace-panaceas as a weapon have been the villains in the lives of countless women and LGBTQIA people for a very long time. So yeah, I’ve got some feels about that. The last time I felt anything similarly relatable, or as strongly, was the Utena and Anthy relationship in Revolutionary Girl Utena (and really, their kiss during the surreal sequence at the end of the film adaptation).

Section III: Thoughts on Cult Aesthetics and Clones (the rough cut)

(1) In the future scenes at the end, Adora’s white dress with gold tiara and accents have this kind of goddess-like or Pallas Athena feel to it, which is a great mirror of the design choices for the god-like Horde Prime, his Purity Space Cult, mechanics/ship, and flagship interior scenery. Not saying that was the intention, but that’s how it came across to me.

Of course, those colors would be used because She-Ra already wears white and gold with a bit of red accent, which complement how the princesses are bright and colorful (pastels and jewel tones). The bold and bright colors helps signify that Etheria is full of life. Etheria is verdant and magical, and that sets up a contrast to the Fright Zone and the darker colors found in Horde characters (Hordak, Shadow Weaver, Scorpia, Catra, Entrapta, etc).

So the first kind of contrast was with the Fright Zone standing out as a poisoned/toxic against the bright, lively colors of Etheria and the princesses. Season 5 introduces another take on that contrast as Horde Prime is the opposite, or antithesis of Etheria’s colorful life. He’s like anti-life with his shades of light-and-dark grays on white, and only glow-green as an accent. In some cultures and religious traditions, white is associated with purity, and in others it is associated with death.

When Horde Prime ‘purifies’ Hordak for the sins of individuality and emotion (emotion for others, for his own sake), Hordak is drained of the colors he chose for himself during exile. In addition to being a contrast to Horde Prime (and informed by the 80s cartoon design), Hordak’s dark blue (or blue-black) and red color palette reflects the traditional use of red as a color for evil (especially vampirism) from back when diabolism was a stand-in for ‘the Devil’ in many forms of visual media (comics, live-action, animation, etc). In place of diabolic red, Horde Prime has toxic glow-green.

I absolutely love the use of the glow-green accents. Color trends for villains and significations of evil come and go, and I’m glad to see the color green be used again, and used so well. The last time I saw that shade of glow-green used so well was in Sleeping Beauty (re: Maleficent’s magic and the orb on her staff) and as the Loc-Nar in Heavy Metal. In both films, there are connotations of evil as a poisonous and corrupting influence. Green, in the context of evil, almost always signifies poison (and sometimes envy). I also like that the glow-green color is used in ways that aren’t immediately saying ‘this is evil’, such as the green baptismal waters and flames from the purification scene, or the green amniotic protein fluid. The language of piety and trappings of the sacred can cloak a sinister purpose.

I don’t know if any of that was intentional, but Horde Prime feels like the perfect synergy of purity and death (which has additional connotations, but that’s a very personal interpretation).

(2) Horde Prime immediately gave me subtle cult vibes in his first cameo (Season 3), and the follow-through on that was perfect and exactly what I was hoping to see. The background music throughout the scenes aboard the flagship fits well (love the soundtrack), and has the quality of Ecstatic Experience without pulling directly from any specific religion. Horde Prime’s dialogue is a delightful bit of narcissism veiled with the language of piety.

A purity cult comprised of clone-brother-worshippers of the cult’s founder-prophet-god-king reinforces that narcissism and has all the fun-dark feels of shiny-techno-future-dystopias. It is also an interesting use of clones, especially in a story format that usually never has the time to really dive into the complexities of cloning. This is the sort of thing that you’d be more likely to see in a one-off episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation, rather than the basis for a greater scope villain, or multi-season nemesis. (and yes, Star Trek: TNG had an interesting clone episode)

Clones in science-fiction tend to fall into just a few tropes, and I generally dislike seeing clones show up in a story because the execution nearly always feels sloppy (in small ways or big ways). I did not get that feeling from She-Ra, where, the clones occupy the “cog in the machine” trope, but it is not their existence as clones that make them that way, it is the Will of Horde Prime that does. They are simultaneously expendable and sacred in their unity. It’s a nice flip on “stronger by working together” that Adora and the others have to learn (and struggle) to do.

It seems like, despite their religious programming, the clones have a little bit of their own personalities until Horde Prime ‘inhabits’ them to exert his Will. I’m trying not to read too much into it, b/c what comes across as ‘inhabits’ to me (especially with the religious/cult context), was probably meant more literal like described in the dialogue as a hive-mind control kind of thing. The first time it happens—to post-wipe/death Hordak—felt to me like a possession scene from The Exorcist, but without the kind of horror visuals that would scare both adults and children. The quick-and-subtle amount of body contortion and sound is still gross and creepy (because it should be), but it also reminds me of Ecstatic Experience in the form of speaking in tongues, or snake handling, or being a medium for a spirit. Again, I’m not saying any of that is intentional, but that’s how I see it.

(3) Finally, there is Entrapta, Hordak, and Wrong Hordak. Clones rarely get to be ‘humanized’ through friendship or romance arcs. I can think of a dozen or more robots that get to be humanized in that way, but can’t recall any clones that have (excluding doomed clones whose friendship/romance only existed for the sake of selling the tragedy of their death). Hordak gets death, renewal, and romance in a way that worked really well, and the totality of it is unique. I was a bit surprised that they could work in another clone—and I love Wrong Hordak—who pulls triple-duty as (1) comedy; (2) relevant to moving various pieces of the story along; and (3) more humanizing of the clones, which, again rarely happens as most stories take the easy low road when it comes to clones.

For Entrapta’s part, she’s never put in the position of giving up who she is (‘weird’ by many standards) for a romance. Her passion for technology is both an amusing double entendre at times, and integral to who she is. A romance for Entrapta does not replace her passion for technology, she can have both. Dating myself but, I came up in a time where most media (for children or adults) would rob a woman of her agency or passions during the resolution of a romance arc. Maybe times have changed, but it’s still nice to see none of that nonsense happening here.

#catradora #entrapdak #spop #spop meta #spop asks #ask me anything #spop s5 spoilers

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xxwritemeastoryxx · 4 years

Text

Hidden Skeletons Part 4

Author: xxwritemeastoryxx

Pairings: Klaus Mikaelson x Reader

Word Count: 2.2K

Warnings: nope.

Author’s Note: Hello next part! I apologize for how long it has taken this one to get done. But here it is! I hope you guys enjoy this chapter. While it is a bit of a filler, I promise it is necessary for the next few chapters. There are still two major points that need to be made to make this request complete. One of them will happen in the next one, I promise. ♥

Feedback gives me life and motivation for future things. ♥

It had been late in the night. The rest of the Mikaelsons had gone off to bed, leaving Klaus and Y/N the only ones up. While Klaus had a glass of bourbon in his hand, Y/N held onto her cup of coffee.

Since the others had headed to bed, Klaus had been getting to know the witch that helped saved his daughter. While he would never admit it out loud, Klaus had been growing used to having her around. He knew that once it was time to take her back, he'd miss her.

"I bet your siblings are nowhere near how mine can be." Klaus said with a shake of his head.

Y/N smiled. "Probably not. They are all on their own level of irritating abilities." That had caused them both to chuckle. "My oldest brother doesn't care much for the coven. He doesn't have the ability to practice magic, so he spends a lot of time away on business. As for my other siblings," she shook her head slightly. "They are upset that I was chosen to take my mother's place."

"How is it that one is chosen to lead the great Y/L/N Coven?" He asked curiously.

"A series of tests and trials." She shrugged. "My siblings failed because of their deeper interest for darker magic. There is a test to see if your future intentions for the coven are pure, they failed. I was five when they tested me. Lo and behold, you've got your next leader."

Klaus shook his head. "And you've been groomed ever since." It wasn't a question, but Y/N nodded.

"Honestly, I never thought I would be chosen." She looked down at her coffee cup for a moment. "If you go based on traditions, I never should have been in the running in the first place."

Klaus raised an eyebrow as he watched her. "How so?" He asked as he leaned forward in his seat.

Looking up at him, Y/N debated on actually opening up to Klaus. A secret such as this wasn't meant to be shared with any of the members of the coven. So it was safe to tell him, right? At least that was what she had been thinking.

"You and I are a lot alike." As the words registered in Klaus, Y/N could see the confusion grow in him. "The man who raised me isn't my biological father." She said a moment later.

Understanding filled Klaus. "I assume you weren't raised the same way I was, though."

"No." She said, shaking her head. "He has always been kind to his kids. Unfortunately, he still believes that I am his. Tradition calls for a child born from two different bloodlines within the coven. My father isn't from the coven nor is he from any witch bloodline. That will make me the first coven leader out of tradition."

"Your coven seems to be alright with you being, well you." He said with a small smile. Her laugh that came caused his smile to fade.

"Even they don't know. My mother has kept it a secret from everyone. I only know because I found out when I was thirteen. 'Some secrets are better kept. Otherwise chaos would ensue. For a coven of our size, chaos would destroy us.' My mother used to say those words to me every day that I wanted to scream the truth to my dad, to anyone." She shook her head once more. "Covens only care about the power they are able to keep. I'm hoping that when I take over I can change that."

"You already are." Klaus noted as he reached over and placed his hand on top of her knee. "For a coven that stays out of vampire business, you came willingly to help a child in need. I'd say that’s one hell of a statement before you even take over."

While Y/N should have been worried about the information she was telling him, part of her trusted him. She trusted him because they were more alike than she led on. She trusted that since she helped him save his daughter, that he wouldn't go running back to her coven to spread the details she told him.

She smiled at his words though. "I have a lot of plans for when I take over. I just know its going to take a lot to get them on board with it."

"What plans do you have?" Klaus enjoyed the way her eyes suddenly lit up at the thought of the change she could bring to her coven. It made him smile at the sight.

"For one, our coven should no longer turn away witches that are wrapped up in vampire business." Y/N noted with a smile. "Not every vampire they encounter is as bad as they seem. Even for you Klaus."

"I'll have you know that I keep to the very rumors that have surfaced." He said with a devilish smirk. He watched as Y/N laughed and the sound itself had warmed him in a way he hadn't been used to.

"I've seen how you are, Klaus." She said as she placed her coffee cup on the table in front of them. "While you are a force to be reckoned with, there is a side to you that you barely let anyone else see. From where I'm sitting, I think I may be one of the few to see that side."

"That you are." He noted.

______

"You have everything?" Freya asked as they stood at the airport.

Klaus rolled his eyes. "We aren't leaving for an extended time, Freya."

Hope smiled at that. "Unless things change." She shrugged.

Freya laughed catching what Hope had been implying. For the last two weeks Y/N and Klaus had been spending a lot more time together. It seemed that everyone but the two in question could see it. While both of them had denied anything, Freya and Hope could clearly see the two bonding.

Klaus rolled his eyes. "We'll be back later this week once Y/N's ceremony is done. Anything before, or after, means something went wrong."

"Of course." Freya said with a small smile. She looked over at Hope. "Make sure he stays out of trouble. We gained an ally with the Y/L/N Coven. Make sure he doesn't mess that up."

Klaus crossed his arms over his chest as he watched his daughter nod and make a promise to his sister. Klaus knew that things always had a tendency to take a turn, but it wasn't always his fault on it.

"Alright." Y/N said walked up to them holding the tickets. "Apparently mentioning your name gave us first class tickets...again." A small frown formed on her face as she looked at the tickets. "I'm assuming compulsion."

Hope and Freya shook their heads as Klaus smirked. "That is how anyone should travel. Coach is dreadful and I refuse to sit that close to a stranger."

Y/N laughed as she shook her head at the statement. She shouldn't have expected anything less from the Hybrid. "Right."

Freya came up to Y/N and pulled her into a hug. Y/N was no longer surprised by the hugs she had been pulled into with the family. "Please make sure they are safe out there."

"I wouldn't have it any other way." Y/N promised. "I'm sure you'll hear all about it from Hope once she gets back."

They pulled away from each other and smiled. "Oh I don't doubt it. I'm expecting several texts and magical visits by the time they come back."

Y/N chuckled. "I promise it will be smooth sailing once we past the main obstacle."

That had caused all three of them to raise an eyebrow. "What obstacle?" Klaus asked.

"My mother."

"Almost a month, Y/N." Her mother's voice boomed the moment they were alone. Klaus and Hope were currently standing outside of the sage protected house, waiting for this particular conversation to be over. "You've been gone for almost a month and you bring them with you. What the hell were you thinking?"

Y/N hadn't expected to be gone that long. She had expected to be there for however long it took for her to do the spell and then come back. But with each passing day, the Mikaelsons found some other reason for her to stay. One of those reasons being to help Hope control her magic. Something Y/N was all to willing to help out with.

"I saved someone." She said as she crossed her arms over her chest. "I'm not some child you can keep locked away here."

Her mother scoffed and took a step towards Y/N. "I am your mother. I asked you not to go with a vampire and the one thing you did was cloak yourself and ran off with him. You got roped into their business after all the years that I had instilled in you to not do their bidding."

"A child was at risk of dying and you wanted me to sit back and do nothing." Y/N shook her head. "Tell me mom, if it had been reversed and I was the one that needed help and you had to go to them, you'd want them to help right?"

"It's different and you know it." She narrowed her eyes at her daughter. “We would have been able to care for you no matter the circumstances. You aren’t just some witch that can go and do as she pleases.”

“All I really am is the means of survival to this coven. If it wasn’t for me you would have someone from our bloodline to take over.” Y/N shook her head refusing to lose this argument. She was going to stand by the decision she had made. She had practically been under lock and key her whole life. It didn’t hurt to extend her stay out in New Orleans. “When I do take over, things are going to change a lot more than you would expect them to.”

“They will turn against you.” Her mother noted. “Change isn’t common here. Traditions have been passed down and it is one of the reasons our coven had thrived as it has.”

Y/N scoffed. “Imagine what they would do when they find out I’m not pure blood and you’ve hid that from them. Face it mom, while I have been the best choice to take over this week, I’m the change this coven is going to need to accept. Same as you. The Mikaelsons are here to see the Hollow destroyed. If you don’t do it, don’t complain when I do it later.”

Her mother sighed as she brought a hand up to rub her temples. “Will they leave once I do?”

Y/N shrugged. “Possibly. Hope is wanting to stay to watch my ceremony.”

“You told them about it?” Her eyebrow raised, not wanting the vampires to stay any longer than necessary.

“Come on, mom.” Y/N sighed. “This is an opportunity to spread the knowledge we’ve kept to ourselves. Doing so with a two person coven isn’t going to hurt.”

Y/N watched as her mother shook her head and turned to look out the window. Y/N joined her as she watched Hope speak with a few other members of the coven. “You do know the stories told about her right?”

“You mean the ones where she is supposed to bring destruction to the world?” Y/N asked as she kept her eyes on Hope. “Yeah those prophecies are considered voided once the Hollow was released from her. The only threat they pose is if we stand against them. I’ve built a bridge between us and them since I’ve been gone.” She looked towards her mother. “Don’t ruin that by turning them away when all they ask is for a safe place for Hope to learn new things that even her Aunt hasn’t seen yet.”

“Fine.” Her mother huffed. “Just until after the ceremony is performed and then they must leave.”

Y/N smiled as she walked out of the house. Her hands had been clasped behind her back. The moment she walked out, Hope’s eyes widened at the smile Y/N had been sporting.

“She’s okay with it?” Hope asked with a smile.

“For the most part.” Y/N gave a slight shrug. “You’ll be able to stay for her to do as needed with the chest and you are more than welcome to stay for the ceremony. But after that-”

“Don’t overstay our welcome.” Klaus finished with a small smirk on his face.

Y/N rolled her eyes, her smile growing. “Technically you wouldn’t be overstaying with the new leader.”

That caused them all to laugh. While Y/N’s mother had put her foot down, things were about to change the moment Y/N became a leader. Klaus wrapped his arm over Y/N’s shoulder as they began walking towards the guest house.

From the window, her mother watched as all three of them walked to the guest house. Hope had been facing Klaus and Y/N as she walked backwards. She had been talking about something and as her hands moved to gesture something, she watched Y/N and Klaus throw their heads back in laughter.

The sight itself had an unsettling feeling in her stomach. The daughter she had raised to take over seemed to getting close to the hybrid. If her mother intuition was good for anything, she knew this was going to end badly.

Just as her thoughts played her phone vibrated with a new message.

I take it she made it home safely?

Typing quickly she sent the reply.

Yes, but what you’ve told me is true.

What do you want to do about it?

She sighed and thought for a moment before letting her thumbs move across the screen.

I’ll take care of it.

Always & Forever Tag: @taylordrunkonwhiskey @thewolf-and-thesheep @wayward-dan @neeadinghugs @fafulous @kenmen02 @elizamonet @dora-the-grownup @mschellehitt @xanderling @fandom-princess-forevermore @buckysarm4 @hi-my-name-is-riley @helenasingers @alka16555

Hidden Skeletons:

@kenmen02 @depressed-with-anxiety @happy-sunny-flower @physically-a-cheesecake @vampiregirl1797 @selena8712 @esclisa @xlosttdreamss @tuliptx @tomarisela

Bold tags mean for one reason or another I cannot tag you. Please let me know what’s going on so I can fix it. If you would like to be added to, or taken off, the taglist please let me know. ♥♥♥

#The Originals #The Vampire Diaries #Legacies #Klaus Mikaelson #Klaus Mikaelson imagine #Klaus Mikaelson request #Klaus Mikaelson x reader #reader inserts #Hope Mikaelson #Freya Mikaelson #hidden skeletons #Series #Part 4 #TVD #TO

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purgatory-is-life · 4 years

Text

Darker Then He Seems

This is a Sanders Sides fanfic I wrote a while ago, don’t @ me. The plot is kinda confusing.

Summary: Roman's dark past is slowly catching up to him, after Can LYING Be Good. Twists and turns are on every path, darkness threatening Patton and Logan's happiness, Virgil is panicking more than usual, slowly reverting back to how he was before... Pride left the Dark Sides, and Creativity came into the play.

CHAPTER TWO: THIS IS HALLOWEEN!

Previous//Next

Chapter TW; Mentions of skinning people, cursing (I think), arguing, let me know what I missed!

---Time Lapse---

Virgil

It’s finally time! Halloween! My favorite time of the year! Technically, it’s only October, but still! We were all decorating the Mind Palace for the holiday. It was Roman’s idea, he always goes all out for everything. Not that I mind for this one thing. Patton was making cookies, Logan was hanging around in one of the large spider webs Roman conjured reading, and I was decorating the Common Room. My pet spider, Aragog, was helping with spider webs. The Nightmare Before Christmas soundtrack was playing in the background as we decorated.

“Hey, Logan, how you doing up there?” I called.

“It is quite peaceful actually, as Roman is not here to disturb any of the peace.”

“You’re forgetting Patton.”

“He’s busy with the cookies.”

“They’re shaped like little cats!” Patton called from the kitchen. I rolled my eyes.

“Whatever, I’m gonna go check on Sir Sings-a-lot!”

“Alright, you do that, kiddo!” I walked upstairs and towards the bedrooms. Roman was being a bit extra and painting the hallways the colors of Halloween. As the paint dried, Roman hung up more webs.

“You really don’t have to do this, you could change the Mind Palace in a snap if you wanted,” to emphasize my point, I snapped my fingers. The Hallway suddenly darkened.

“Oh come on Brad Pitiful, now look who’s being dramatic!”

“I’m not being dramatic, I’m- I’m- not sure why the hallway darkened!”

“Well, whatever, we can’t keep this darker lighting, Patton’s afraid of the dark!”

“Of course he is, he’s the brightest Side around! He’s afraid of the Dark Sides Borders, the Dark Sides, the Dark Sides Realm-”

“What should we decorate the theatre with? And the Movie Room? We all spend so much time in the Movie Room downstairs, so there can’t be too many spider webs-”

“ROMAN FOCUS DAMNIT!!”

“Okay, but give me like five seconds,” the moron said sinking out. I waited there patiently for about five minutes. When Roman rose back up, he was going on and on about how he could attain purple light filters.

“No. Whatever, you say, no. No more glitter bombs, I think we learned our lesson last year.”

“THAT WAS REMY’S FAULT, VIRGIL!!”

“Was it? You two thought it was a good idea to decorate EVERY REALM WITH RAINBOW GLITTER!!”

“PICANI LIKED IT!”

“HE’S DATING REMY!! OF COURSE HE LIKED IT!!”

“THAT WOULD IMPLY YOU LIKE SOME OF MY IDEA’S!!”

“I DO, IT’S JUST THAT SOME OF THEM ARE DANGEROUS!!”

“WHY ARE WE FIGHTING, IT’S YOUR FAVORITE TIME OF YEAR?!”

“I DON’T KNOW!!” The lights flickered darker again, and a familiar voice rang out;

“Oh joy, oh joy! This place is looking festive! I love the webs, Virgil’s doing I imagine, hey Logan, how’s logic doin’?”

“Oh no.”

“Shit”

“We should go down and check our heads aren’t tricking us.”

“Yeah.” Roman and I walked downstairs to the Common Room. Of course, to my absolute displeasure, Envy and Apathy were standing there. Apathy, was wearing J.D. cosplay from Heathers (Roman forced me to watch both the musical and the movie). Envy, was in his usual outfit, but a… Black and blue cloak rather than the usual green one? Eh, whatever. It doesn’t matter that much. What did matter, was what they were doing there.

“Hey, calm down,” Roman mumbled, placing a hand on my shoulder. The lights were flickering, and my shadows were going wild. I took a breath and the shadows stopped and the light’s seized flickering.

“WhAt ArE yOu DoInG hErE?!” I said, around the same time Patton and Logan (how got down from the spider webs, I’m assuming it was Patton’s doing) walked into the room.

Envy turned to face me. “Ah! Anx, good to see ya, love the new look, very you, just the Sides we wanted to see! D- do you have the Heathers soundtrack album I let you borrow all those- nevermind, getting off topic-”

“En, dude, you’re talking too much again.”

“Apathy, you have no room to talk, on guys night, you and Rem talk up a storm, and you attempt to make jokes with Em.”

“And you and Dee argue about the biggest lies Thomas has told.”

“Lying to yourself is a form of lying! He was in charge of keeping Thomas closeted all those years, and before that, convincing him he was straight!”

“My jokes are acceptable according to Dee!”

“Do you see the flaw in that logic? Deceit is seriously bad at controlling his compulsive lying; and I thought Insomnia clouded logic’s voice.”

“Ah! I am offended!”

“If you were, you would be bleeding.”

“Is that so?”

“I can show you blood if you want.”

“You know me so well, who will we skin?”

“Anyone of your choosing, they’ll just come back, like that time we skinned the snake himself!”

“Um, excuse me, but you didn’t answer Virgil’s question,” Patton said.

“More like demand,” Apathy said. When was Envy in his arms-? He was carrying Envy bridal style.

“Oh, and we’re here for those two,” Envy pointed towards me and Roman. “We brought PRESENTS! It’s not Christmas, but, who cares?”

“What do you mean, ‘presents’?” Roman asked, pulling me closer to him.

“Oh, you know, the usual. We had-

“Have,” Apathy reminded him.

“-A tradition, back home, where every time something big comes up, we give each other a new article of clothing. Dee gets a new cloak, Apa get’s a new jacket, Nia gets a new satchel, and I get either a shirt or a cloak. Aaanyway, I’ve droned on long enough.” Envy jumped down from Apathy’s arms and walked over to us. He was a lot shorter than us, not very intimidating. He handed us two boxes. One was white decorated with a red streak and Romans calligraphy handwriting (forged, obviously, but surprisingly accurate) reading ‘Pride’. The other was purple with patches and my messy horror of a handwriting reading ‘Anxiety’.

Envy’s smile was… fangs and all. “I think you left these at home.” Envy walked back to the apathetic side in J.D. cosplay. “Now, let’s get home before someone dies, probably us by either Roman or Patton, I’m not sure, and talking too much again, let’s go.” Envy jumped in Apathy’s arms again and they sunk out. I’m pretty sure I heard someone say something about oversharing as the pair sunk out.

“Do you guys know what they gave you?” Logan asked.

Roman shrugged and opened the box. I looked over his shoulder, on top of some neatly folded clothes a note that read a simple message:

Happy Halloween, my kings. You’ll break eventually. I know the whispers well…

~Envy. (Apa signed the other note. I forced him too, :P)

Well, this was not good.

#roman sanders #pride!roman au #pride!roman #sanders asides #sanders sides fanfiction #virgil sanders #sypathetic light sides #patton sanders #logan sanders #implied remile #dark side ocs #envy #apathy #ocs #purgatory creates #caps #sympathetic dark sides #ts sides #chapter two

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