#whelp there's my idea at least :)

[multicolour-ink]

GOD, seeing a Dream Team film adaptation tackle the Dream's Deep sequence would be such a stab to the heart, especially since it would have to also focus on Mario's reactions to Luigi's innermost thoughts

OH GOODNESS. The raw emotion that could be drawn upon from that moment 💗

Here's the thing: the Bros know each other so well. That is the important thing to keep in mind. There is no doubt in my mind that they have seen each other's good and bad sides; held each other through the worst times.

Mario knows that Luigi does have self doubt, lacks some confidence, and is clumsy - but he loves his brother regardless because he knows Luigi wants to work through it, and has so much good in him. The flaws are just a part of what makes Luigi, his other half, his brother.

However, it's one thing to know this about a person, but it's another thing to actually see it.

Dream's Deep is an emotional place for those of us who have witnessed it first-hand; I can only imagine how it would be if they adapted it into movie form:

Mario just taking in everything Luigi is thinking and feeling. His own brother's thoughts swirling around him, everything from his own pep talks to how much he loves Mario.

And Mario can feel everything. He already has a pure spiritual link to his brother...but in Dream's Deep it's like it's all become a part of him. He clasps his hand to his mouth, overwhelmed by everything he is seeing and sensing. His brother is embracing him in his dreams, and Mario just wants nothing more than to finish up as fast as possible so he can hold his brother tight, physically hold him, and never let go.

And after Dream's Deep, while travelling to the next place, Mario catches his brother's eye. Luigi knows how much Dream's Deep affected Mario. What they have both seen and been through there was heavy stuff, and they need to compose themselves and each other.

They stop, and without even saying a word they hug each other so tight, foreheads pressed together. They don't even care who's watching. They need to get this out. They need to tell each other via a loving touch that they are here for each other, no matter what. They're ok. This will never drive them apart. Nothing ever will. ❤️️💚

Luigi knows this hug is mostly for Mario...

It always bothered me that after Dream's Deep, in the game, the Bros never talk about the experience. Not even a hug after....

I want raw, human emotion. That's the good stuff.

[rotzaprachim]

the thing i have to say about calahan skogman is that american gods missed a real trick with having him be a washed up 21st century midwestern thor/ 

[jazeswhbhaven]

IM AWAKE LETS GET INTO IT

my babbbbbyyyyyyyyyyy

i was partially right about something....it will take some time for him to develop sexual and romantic feelings thus why Solomon was very patient and most likely won his heart

I'm human but it's okay Belphie I shall wait until you're ready. (demisexual vibes are heavy with this one) fall in love with me

also his philia from what I gather is that he's sexually attracted to effort and persistence which is a LEFT FIELD from what we were saying.... (EDIT: philia actually means he's attracted to conflict, anxiety, disputes, etc. which it's crazy considering Agares....)

safe to agree that yeah no more guessing philias because i never would of guessed that lmaoooo

NOW WITH AGARES????

He used to run this shit and it sounds like he has that same energy as Glas where he wants to take over as king someday except Agares DID rule Niflheim before.

So it seems that Levi and Belphie took over occupied spots in their respective countries. Hmmmm this is lovely conflict and I can see why people dig Agares.

I have no idea wtf his philia means lmao (EDIT: He's attracted to folks who do crime, criminals, villains, let's go. Ever stolen something in your life? Tell him about it.)

Vassago is loyal to Agares only (hence the same horn jewelry and the matching theme of outfit) and even dresses Agares??? (i know they be fu-) ANYWAYS

I'm pretty sure then Agares may have put that muzzle on him because he could be biting the other nobles because he's in that goblin mode 24/7 and only obeys Agares.

His philia is being sexually attracted to sermons and speeches which is crazy lmao Gabriel giving a sermon and Vassago over here busting a nut over it.

saving the big boy Beleth for last....

big sword check

must have sex every night after battle? check

big check

lmao

so it sounds like people kinda underestimate him but he's good at reminding folks who really runs this shit and who supports Belphie. He is the most mature in hell, yes we can tell boo, and that sex thing?

who can match his freak?

who is his melatonin?

his philia is self explanatory and whelp at least I know he probably smells like sex and cigarettes

in other words. Belphie my love your country is divided and fucked and Agares basically said you on borrowed time and he taking Niflheim back.

I support you BOO, TRUST.

[lavenderslabyrinth]

A Sacrificial Game

King!Dragon x Reader

Masterlist

This is my first post since deciding to kick off this new account. It’s rewritten from an old story I had posted on here long ago once upon a time. I hope you enjoy~

CW: ♢ Mention of Near Drowning ♢ Blood/Injury ♢ Abduction ♢

The coos of morning doves and the gentle brushing of branches against your bedroom window were quickly drowned out by the boisterous laughter and squabbling of your many siblings. Your attempt at trying to drown them out via the trusty quilt-over-head technique was quickly plundered as they burst through your sacred doorway. With energy only children can manage to conjure from the depths of hell at 8 in the morning, they jostled you around roughly, stealing away the comforting warmth you'd had. Surely, you'd thought, this was an act of merciless torture. Your skin prickled with goosebumps and, irritably, you managed to croak out a yip. "Ow! Off!" Your anger did nothing more than make them giggle as they lightly bruised you with their rough play. "Lemme sleep, dammit! Off! Get off!" Taking evident joy out of your misery, the damn gremlins only gave you a round of smug looks. They did relent, however it was truthfully only to avoid your flailing swats at their heads. “Momma said we ain’t eatin’ breakfast till you get up. So get up lazy" A chorus of agreements and more jostling only drew a strong eye roll from you. But, nevertheless, you shooed them off and sat up, groggily rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

Normally they'd just eat without you, leaving the leftovers warmed in the oven to be picked at by whoever passed by, but today was a special occasion. It was your birthday. Normally birthdays were happy events full of gifts, smiles, and all things merry-making-- but this one was different. While the younger whelps scurried off to the old wooden table, none the wiser to the fate that you now had to face, a heavy weight hung over the heads of the adults in the house. The thickness of the air palpable as you stepped into the kitchen and saw the grim look on your mother's face.

The saying goes that a starving savage is less likely to ravage your home if you give it a single meal-- and such began the gruesome, superstitious tradition... Once a year, one unlucky village that bordered the human kingdom would be chosen to place the names of all it's unmarried, of-age residents into a box and perform a drawing. Whichever sorry soul was picked would be ripped away from their homes by the temple, never to be seen again. The nobility liked to call it one of the "highest of all honors" a commoner could receive. The common people? You call it human sacrifice.

At least, most of your people do. Despite that being so, the vast majority of the population feared the very notion of abandoning the ritual. Why? Because the entire purpose was to "sate the otherfolk's thirst for human blood." One sacrifice, one year free from their wrath.

Your skin crawled at the very idea of it all as you leant down, clumsy hands tying up the laces of your worn leather boots.

As a child, you believed every word that hung off of the elders' tongues down near the pub. The fascination and wonder of another terrifying world outside the kingdom's tall, stone walls ignited your naive little heart. But with age, it grew evident to you that they were no more than simple old widows and drunkards with nothing better to do with their remaining time than talk stories and scare little children with tall tales. How were you supposed to believe beasts, much less entire civilizations of them, would be satisfied by the blood of one person if they truly wanted to attack a meager village, much less an entire country? Who decided they even wanted that blood? It was an argument you’d tried to raise countless times with your village council only to have it shot down with a simple “Well the Chosen never return, do they?” It pissed you off to no end. It didn't even take two wrinkles in the brain to conclude that it was more likely the animals of the woods, the elements-- or worse, other humans that caused the sacrificed to meet their demise; but no point you made would ever change their stone cold hearts.

And as though your age wasn't enough to make this birthday sour, the drawing was to be held this evening. The irony of someone losing their life on the day of your birth was palpable. Taking your usual chair at the kitchen table, you noticed the way two of your brothers squabbled over the last roll. With spiteful retaliation, you plucked it from between them taking a slow, mocking bite right in front of their faces. Maybe next time they'd think twice before ganging up to practically assault you out of bed.

"(y/n)?" Your head snapped up to attention, meeting your father's gaze. "How are you feeling?" You swallowed the fluffy bread quickly shooting a quiet reply. "I'm alright. Would feel a little better if you guys would stop lookin at me like I'm headed to the gallows." The laugh you were awarded from him was dry, but it eased some of the tension in his weathered shoulders nonetheless.

"I suppose it is a bit stuffy in here for a birthday, huh?" Your mother piped up sheepishly, wiping her hands on the dishtowel that hung from a belt on her hip. "Say, why don't you go visit Alikar? Trade some of our tomatoes for a basket of peaches-- bring those back and I'll make a pie we can all have after the drawing, how does that sound?" The little heads in the room visibly perked at the idea of getting their grubby little paws on something sweet. It wasn't often you had the sugar for such things after all.

Dismissing the idea of having to attend the black box event, you gave her a gentle nod. "Sure, I can do that. Need anything else while I'm out?" You inquired, stuffing the rest of the bread into your mouth before your youngest brother could snatch it from your hand. "No, dear. Just finish your breakfast and we'll handle the rest."

After practically beating your siblings off the table with a stick to get your fill, you quickly washed up and plucked the basket from the floor. “I’m off!” You called, getting no discernible acknowledgement as the chaos in the house never ceased. No matter to you-- the pie would be well worth the trip ahead.

Uncle Alikar.

The man was a huge part of the reason you didn’t believe a lick of all that ‘savage otherfolk’ nonsense. As your feet scuffed along the well worn path, old memories bubbled up to the surface like froth from the babbling brook that ran beside you.

You were the eldest of your siblings which, consequently, meant that when you'd been a rumbling little runt there were no older kids to show you the ropes and your parents' first trial run at raising a whole little person. This always resulted in you tumbling headfirst into trouble, but one day it had gone a little too far. Your tiny body approached the ledge of the stream. The same edge you would use every summer to hunt tadpoles. But, unbeknownst to you, the soil that was far too saturated with yesterday's rain to hold your weight. Without warning, it crumbled beneath your little feet sending you hurtling down into the rushing waters below. The merciless current carried you faster downstream than your father could run and just when your little head was wrenched under the raging current, a large beast sprung into the water after you. Before you could even process what had happened, your little lungs were hacking up the water they're inhaled, the coughing doing little for the burn in your lungs.

At first it was all a blur, you could hear your parents shouting as well as another rumbling voice above you responding back to them. Your little legs dangling far above the ground as a muscular arm stayed firmly wrapped around your waist. Someone was... holding you? You blinked away the tears, looking up to be met with a mouth full of razor-like teeth, thick sopping wet fur, and bright, slitted eyes. Misunderstanding what was going on, you began to cry out in fear. You were absolutely terrified you were about to be eaten by the ravenous river monster your mother warned you about countless times in attempt to dissuade you from wandering near the water when they weren't watching you. Only when those large paws handed you off to your mother ever-so-gently did you begin to quiet back down "Are you alright now, sweetpea? Ol' Alikar didn't mean to spook ya. Poor thing." He was some kind of rakshasa or tabaxi, evident by the sopping tail that swayed in the water behind him and round, fluffy ears that tilted back with concern. Speaking of...

Your knuckles rapped against the wooden door, sending warm clunks into the cottage. It was a serene place far from the human village which was always surrounded by the sweet smells of fruit and scents of warm, freshly made bread. Not but a few seconds later the upper half of the door swung open and there, in all his striped glory, was Alikar himself. “There’s the birthday girl!” He greeted you, his smile full of sharp teeth. A sight that originally took some getting used to but was now synonymous with a second home. “Hey Uncle Al. Mama sent me down to get some peaches for a pie.” You raised your basket of tomatoes.

He only chuckled in reply. “Oh, I know, how else was I supposed to give you your gift?” His paw pushed the lower part of the door open, welcoming you inside-- the scent of herbs and butter wafting much stronger from within. Surprised, you could only follow dumbly after him at first, setting the basket down as you took a seat on his kitchen table.

“A gift? Since when do you have the extra funds to get me gifts?! Aren’t you saving for the wedding? What about--”

    “Would you hush, child?” He laughed, taking amusement in your fretting. “You’re still new to the whole womanhood thing, what do you know about adult troubles?” You gave a halfhearted growl at him but had no argument to fire back at him. Even though you'd been considered an adult in human standards for quite a few years, Alikar did have more experience than you in that department.

"You get onto me about my finances but I don't see you moving out of your parents' home yet." He teased, carefully unloading every piece of fruit from the wicker basket with care. "Don't bully me! I'm plenty experienced in other things!" You whined. Snatching one of the many apples he'd left unattended. The crisp sweetness did little to nurse your slightly bruised ego but the coolness of the juice as it dribbled down you chin quenched plenty other, more satisfying needs. "Yeah? And what would your area of foreign expertise be? Apple thieving?"

You glared at his back, cheeks tinting "No! Like conversation! And courting."

"Pah!" He scoffed, soft paws stacking the soft, pink fruit into a neat arrangement. "Much good your 'experience' has gotten you, I am the only one getting married here out of the two of us." Okay. Ouch. "And I converse plenty well, thank you very much!"

The afternoon passed with similar banter as you stuffed yourself with whatever fruits Alikar let you get your hands on. In the end he had given you a carefully carved wooden totem of your favorite animal, peaches, and sent you on your way. Whatever wood the little figure was made from gave a faint, sweet scent when wet with water. A bit ironic considering how you met all those years ago but you appreciated it nonetheless.

You had asked him if he’d have wanted to come and celebrate with you and your family but, regretfully, he had to decline. As charming and kind as he was, the path to your home was far too close to the village for his comfort and the idea of one of your acquaintances or friends coming to celebrate as well and reporting him sent the hairs on the back his neck straight upward. It was no secret the village wasn’t excited about strange, new creatures given the black box tradition, so it was doubtful Alikar would be in the public eye anytime soon, as unfortunate as that was…

   You didn’t realize how much time you’d wasted until the shadows began stretching longer, snuffing out much of whatever light the day had left for you. “Ah shit.” You mumbled. You'd definitely missed the drawing, and at this rate you wouldn't be able to eat sweets till the next morning. Speeding up from a mozy to a quick trot back up the hill was unpleasant to say the least, but damn if those thoughts of peach pie didn't motivated you to haul ass.

However, as you drew closer your eagerness was smothered.

Hunching down, you quickly used the cover of the thorny brush to peer out at the scene below-- The terrified cries of your siblings pierced through your chest.

“Where’s the girl?!” A man demanded, spear to your father’s throat and eyes unwavering as your mother pled, voice breaking with fear as her children clung to her skirts.

“Dunno what you’re talkin’ bout.” Your father replied curtly, looking the assailant back in the face with matching fury and anger. “I've only got sons.” The hair on the back of your neck stood up. Only once before, in your entire life, had you heard such a chilling tone come from that man. You'd been no older than 12 when a suitor equal to your mother in age offered to pay a hefty sum for your hand in marriage. The cruel chill in his voice as he sent the man away stuck with you-- but it didn't seem like this scenario would have the same outcome.

“Have it your way.”

A pit knotted itself in your breast as your family’s pleas turned to screaming cries, the spear cutting into you father's shoulder without mercy. Everything seemed to move so slowly after that...

First, you'd prayed he'd give in, relenting your location to the angry mob that surrounded him-- but your father stayed silent. That same fury in his eyes unwavering as he stayed on his feet.

Second, you though, maybe, the crowd would believe they'd truly made a mistake. Maybe a (y/n) didn't live in this village. Perhaps they'd been mistaken-- but that hope was quickly snuffed out as the spear-wielding man reeled the weapon back again, poised to strike.

You hadn't even known what you were doing as you pushed through the thorny brambles. Didn't even register as your fingers curled around a plump peach from your basket. And certainly didn't realize the strength you'd shot through your arm as you slung the fruit straight into the back of the man's head.

The hard impact followed by the splatter of sweet juices dripping down his neck was followed only by a second of silence.

Then two.

Then three.

All heads turning in your direction....

Run.

It was nothing more than instinct as you dropped the precious wicker basket your mother had weaved to the ground-- Alikar's carefully nurtured peaches bruising in the dirt. You shot back through the thorns. Dress skirt shredding, legs practically minced as you rushed through the uncaring wild.

Everything blurred.

Heart racing, the sound of shouting, the thundering of feet right on your tail. It was so much, too much-- too soon. There was no where else you could go. You didn't even know where you were going. Run. Run. RUN.

And run you did, even as your calves burned and blood dripped down your skin, you flew through the woods in a desperate flurry. It was fruitless though. Your wreckless abandon being brought to a halt with a blistering pain that shot through your ribs. The last thing you saw was the sight of the ground coming right at you, and then? Darkness.

I was going to wait till I finished part 2 to post this part but I'm too excited and part 2 is about halfway written anyway :) Stay tuned!

pt. 2

[raayllum]

The Celestial Elves & Aaravos' Plans

Going into s6, there's been two big questions at the forefront of my mind: what can we expect from the Celestial elves, and what exactly is Aaravos' plan?

I've speculated briefly on the former, so I want to clarify further what I mean when I say the latter.

Aaravos' plans, seemingly, have at least two pretty clear steps, if you will:

To be freed from his pearl prison

To get revenge on the Startouch elves for his banishment / some other wound

This was as much spelled out to us in TDP's short story, Patience, before S4's release:

I have not seen the stars in centuries. But when I see them again—when the stars are forced to look upon me, their dark brother—they will know how I have waited. And when everything they have built lies shattered, I will savor their fall from the sky. For I have been patient.

I don't think Aaravos has much of a plan beyond revenge, as the Cycle is thematically and literally unsustainable in comparison to rebuilding and the Narrative of Love. What would be left for him, after all, besides seeing his 'family' (and Xadia) suffer further for what they've done to him? And I'm not here to say that there's a secret third step or anything (though there might be).

What I want to talk about is Aaravos' Plan timeline in regards to getting what he wants.

We know that around 1,000 years ago, humans were exiled from Xadia for dark magic use. It isn't clear if Aaravos was banished before or after this event, but given that Ziard saying "one of the Great Ones" doesn't seem to immediately give away Aaravos' identity, there seem to have been a few still kicking around, although this contradicts the Midnight Star poem, which clearly indicates the Stars leaving ("Elarion, unworthy whelp, / Wept as the stars turned black the sky, / They donned their masks / They turned their backs, / And left Elarion to die") and then humans receiving dark magic ("‘till the last star / Reached from afar / His touch: a blaze, a gift, a spark / [...] Elarion, black-eyed child, / her twisted roots spread deep and far, / The humans’ might").

It is possible, of course, that the Startouch elves could've left but hadn't actually expelled / cut contact with Aaravos directly, but that gets even dicier timeline wise.

Either way, to stay on topic: there's roughly a 700-1000 years, if not more, between Aaravos' banishment from the First Elves and achieving his final aims (which we'll likely see the beginning of in late S6).

Why?

Why does this period of time in between Banishment and Revenge exist? If Aaravos is so powerful...

Even after [Zubeia] and Avizandum allied ourselves with the other Archdragons, we could not risk a direct confrontation. We had to beat Aaravos as his own game. [...] We had to conspire and plot, and deceive this deceiver so that at the exact right moment, he would lower his guard, and we could imprison him forever.

then what could've possibly existed that he couldn't just take outright? Why even make nice with the Archdragons at all, and not stay focused on using his human mages in the west? And what, why, was he using them in the first place pre-imprisonment?

A young human girl uncovered a great secret of history. A dangerous deceiver was revealed: it was one of the Great Ones, the Startouch elf, Aaravos. For a thousand years, Aaravos had been pulling invisible strings like a puppet master. Every great crisis the world faced had seemed the work of some ingenious and powerful leader, but in each case, it was secretly Aaravos, whispering in their ear.

Now, of course Aaravos just could be a sadistic bastard who enjoys messing with people (and I'm sure there's spades of that) as well as ideas of being "elegant and efficient" in that why take things by force when you can convince other people to do stuff (and take the fall) for you. But in my mind, there's one main reason to maintain secrecy around people you're trying to use or convince: you want to maintain their trust, and you want their trust because you want their Knowledge.

Additionally, the more I've thought about it, the more sure I am that Aaravos was ingredient collecting for Something before his imprisonment (300 years ago, and still a thousand years at least into his grand plan). We see two powerful figures disappear close together — Luna Tenebris, who "mysteriously died" and Queen Aditi, who vanished — and we already know Aaravos "swallowed" the latter.

We know from Viren and Claudia that dragons, particularly archdragons, are incredibly powerful. Zym, just as a baby and with the staff as a conduit, would've been enough for Viren to "transcend his moral form" and presumably let Aaravos out of the mirror permanently by... taking over Viren's body, maybe? The details are fuzzy, but the intentions and initial endgame stage (freedom) was probably plain.

Moreover, if Aaravos did need a Powerful Sun Object and a powerful Archdragon (moon? sky?) Object to get things underway, it'd also explain the choice to go to Lux Aurea to get the Sun staff and corrupt it, as that choice inadvertently led to another 'downfall' (if he and Viren hadn't gotten the staff, their army probably would've had enough time to take the Storm Spire before the dragons even arrived; they were only held off so long because the Sunfire elves were there).

Like before, with Aditi, there's also a potentially powerful Sun source in both the sun seed itself and in Sol Regem, particularly if either or both become corrupted. Zym still exists as a possible source of energy to exploit, and there could be something Moon wise with Luna Tenebris' unsuitable heir or even Rayla.

I'm also not going to pretend to have definitive answers. That said, given that everyone else has been on a perpetual chase for knowledge throughout arc S4 and S5 ("I don't even know if she's alive" / "How do you know?" / "Having knowledge isn't the same as knowing it" / "If Akiyu knows helped make it, then she must know where it is" / "To love is simply to know this...") it wouldn't surprise me if the Mystery of Aaravos is about him, yes, but also one he's been trying to 'solve' all this time.

And on the one hand, this has also already been sort of true, given that despite his powers, Aaravos genuinely seems to 1) have no clue of where he was imprisoned or 2) in what (the pearl). The idea that his powers and foresight as a Fallen Startouch elf weren't extended far enough for him to be able to go back to the 'Heavens' whenever he wanted, that the Startouch elves are somewhere currently beyond his reach... That would kind of track and explain the 1,200-1,000 year interim and Why it's taken him so long to figure certain stuff out.

If he doesn't need Objects (which might play into the lack of coercion or construction, perhaps?) or at least not entirely, then Knowledge of something he's missing may be partially the clue needed to go back Home and wreck shit up. Not needing objects per se could also explain why things that may be useful to him — like the Nova Blade, if he wants to kill his own kind; or potentially the cube (but who knows) — weren't confiscated as it were before his permanent Fall to earth.

This is where we get to the Celestial Elves.

The Celestial Elves, in spite of being a late stage addition to TDP's lore in comparison to most other elements, have always felt very purposeful. As laid out in my post above, there's some very particular choices made about them that seem Obviously intentional in a way that say, other design choices regarding the elves aren't necessarily.

For example, original concept of Aaravos featured him bald, in robes, and blindfolded, but were scrapped for being "too obvious" / on the nose, leading to a very different final design. While blindfolds in TDP don't have much of a negative association largely thanks to Lady Justice and Harrow, the idea of not being able to see clearly (hi Viren!) is absolutely a motif the series returns to over and over until it reaches fruition: "I finally see the truth."

As mentioned in my linked post, the fact that all the Celestial elves are Skywing elves feels intentional as well. Sky (freedom) in the series is the opposite to Star ('destiny') if we're just going by primals and not looping in dark magic. The choice to make the Celestial elves Skywing specifically, when they could've been any kind of elf or even a grouping of different kinds of elves living together (which we haven't seen before) is probably because their understanding of the Sky arcanum and the concept of Star magic is going to be radically different than Callum's; I wouldn't be surprised if they've partially turned their back on the idea of "nothing is pre-determined" by instead saying everything is, which is his ongoing worst fear with the possession plot line.

Then there's the fact that they are devoted to Stars, and Startouch elves have had (as far as we know) little to no contact with anyone since they all left a thousand plus years ago... except for Aaravos, who would have an interest in the Nova Blade at the very least (and maybe the Corona of the Heavens belonged to him, too). The way they're called "an ancient sect" of Skywing elves is also not a point in their favour given that outside of Ancient Draconic, everything else that's been labelled that way has been negative ("the relic staff" / "the cube is an ancient relic" / "wounds from an ancient and disturbing practice" / "Infantis sanguine. It's one of the old spells").

Furthermore, the true sight serum Viren poured in his eyes in 2x02 is also what inspired the bulk of today's thinking meta, as the season two novelization states:

He held the last of an unusual liquid that he had inherited from Kpp'Ar. The liquid was a rare serum that the Oracles of Ophidia were said to have used long before the fall of Elarion in order to see through the illusions of the world. They would harvest venom from the fangs of eyeless vipers; and it was said that the venom had to be extracted on a moonless night. All it took was a single stray beam of moonlight to taint the serum and bring out its most dangerous qualities. Instead of clearing one's illusions, a dose of tainted serum would drive a person into a permanent, irrevocable madness.

Oracles are fortune tellers, which is already very Star arcanum-y adjacent. Ophidian is derived from the Grecian root for snake, which is very dark magic-y accordingly. We know that the Oracles were ancient if they predate Elarion, and we don't know whether they were humans, elves, or both. The fact that this lore is 1) here and 2) connected to Kpp'Ar, who it seems Viren likewise 'inherited' the staff from AND who had a perfect twin box that matched the one Aaravos has in his mirror... None of it bodes well, and I think there's reasonable speculation that the Oracles had some connection to a Startouch elf at least, once upon a time, and possibly ties to the Celestial elves as well.

All of this to say is that whatever the Celestial Elves stance on Aaravos is will inform their practical role in the story, yes, but will also inform what he's been Waiting patiently for all this time, I think.

If the Celestial elves are largely against Aaravos, then them hiding themselves and hiding these powerful and dangerous objects makes sense; cloaking themselves from him would take time and effort and if he's not willing to go back to 'Heaven' without being able to kill people, then maybe he's been waiting all this time to locate the Nova Blade (which Callum is now taking him directly to; great!) or one of the quasar diamonds is his missing piece, or whatever.

This would give me more pause as 1) said info was found in like one afternoon of searching in the Great Bookery, which Aaravos presumably would've had access to and 2) the Starscraper is probably the Star Nexus if there is still one, so I'd imagine Startouch elves would know where it is. That said, Callum and Zubeia never made the mirror connection (Callum had no reason to think it was stolen, and Zubeia had no reason to think that if Viren still had it Callum wouldn't have noticed upon inheriting the mage study right away, so wires got crossed) so who knows. Sometimes story's gotta story so reality's gotta bend a bit!

If Aaravos has been looking for information and/or an object outside of the Starscraper's walls (a spell? the cube?) then the Celestial elves pivoting to being a more antagonistic force makes more sense to me. If they have no reason to hide from him, then they have significantly less reason to be narratively Opposed to him. That doesn't necessarily mean they're exclusively evil or anything (though they could be!), but I could see internal fracturing and having our one named Celestial elf, Astrid, be a contrarian force for good as things go to shit (much like how Ethari is our one Silvergrove villager because he breaks the Ghosting spell, or we spend more time with N'than because he's willing to go against drake rider traditions).

We know regardless of anything else Callum and Rayla can't just waltz in and have everything they want immediately handed to them on a silver platter without a hitch, so at best there might be a trial or two to pass (which speaks to some ambiguity about the danger Aaravos poses) and at worst, they might lure the two in with a false offer of help and security / trials only to actually just rip the floor out from under them.

Conclusion sort of

The good news is that by the end of S6 we will probably know most of these answers, excitedly enough! Given that the Merciful One has their stardust quote to Aaravos in 6x01, and that 6x09 is called Stardust, Aaravos referencing that line while he gets some of his vengeance would track accordingly (especially because know he says it at one point, thanks to the first teaser trailer).

Additionally, it's likely that since the end of S6 is the most 11th hour "worst possible things ever are happening" moment, Aaravos getting to have some of his revenge is I think a fair expectation to close out the season, and give us lots of high stakes for S7. Whatever he's been patient over, his waiting will finally be over, and the apocalypse of sorts will start, for the Stars that he's finally strong enough to 1) return to and 2) wreck havoc upon but also for everyone else, too.

But yeah - this was definitely a more rambling meta than most and I hope it got you thinking! It's hard to believe that in under two months we'll have answers to some of these questions we've been asking for so long, and I can't wait to find out what they are!

[icypantherwrites]

Thank you so so much to the person who reported my account to AO3 for commercialization and a violation of TOS because of this author's note on one of my stories:

"In this particular story, while unresolved from a criminal standpoint, Lance does at least have Keith's support and that can make a world of difference. So many do not even have that though (and especially in red states where if you tell the wrong person... living in a dystopian nightmare) so I wanted to take a moment to link you to RAINN -- the Rape, Abuse & Incest National Network -- if you ever need to reach someone, if you ever need to talk, and, if you're like me, able to donate so victims can receive help and support."

Apparently the phrase "like me, able to donate" is a solicitation. It takes a sad, bitter person to go through years of my works to report such an innocuous sentence designed to help others and just as crappy for AO3 to determine that somehow that is a violation. I can't count how many charity zines I've seen advertised on AO3 or causes that creators are passionate about and want to share it with their readers, but apparently someone hates me that much. I'm used to the trolls (not used to, there's no getting used to the sheer hate and cruelty leveled at me because you don't like what I write rather than being an adult and hitting the back button) but I've accepted that. This though? This is just the reaction of some jealous, awful person that unfortunately has lasting repercussions.

I've now been suspended for 14 days. Apparently that's my sign to never try to advocate for charities again that are out there trying to help people. I hope whoever you are that felt the need to report my author's note about supporting a charity that you're happy with yourself.

Due to this, I may also be refraining from posting works going forward on AO3 because I have no idea at this point the limits people will go and what AO3 Support staff will somehow find valid. I will have to go back and scour my posts for any mention of charity zines (and heaven forbid what charity they supported) to wipe them out less I be seen soliciting for donations again.

Not that anyone is really reading my works these days, but whelp, I won't be posting for at least 2 weeks on AO3 to at minimum finish up the stories I already have there. I'll still be posting as normally scheduled on Patreon.

And while I can't do anything about AO3, if you'd like to make a positive difference I do highly encourage anyone to donate to RAINN and make some sunshine and rainbows out of this nasty storm ☀🌈.

[rollinouttahere-writes]

Crocodile gets this from an annoyance (Spandam)

You know what? Here, have a drabble. First fic using Lizard's official name.

No one in Impel Down got visitors, that's a given. Especially not someone left to rot in level 6, a level that even other prisoners didn't know existed. That's why Crocodile laughed when he was informed he had a visitor, having assumed it was a joke. The guard kept a straight face and said that the visitor would be there shortly, then left.

That certainly intrigued Crocodile and the other prisoners that had overheard the exchange. It didn't take long for the news that there was going to be a visitor to spread through out the entire block. Speculations about who it could be bounced between the cells, and the prisoners closest to him asked if he knew who it was. Crocodile shrugged off their questions. He genuinely had no clue. All he could do was wait for his visitor to arrive.

A door could be heard unlocking and opening down the hall, and Crocodile knew that that must be whoever has come down here to see him. His cell was around a corner, so he couldn't see who it was yet, but he could hear.

He could hear an onslaught of taunts and mockery coming from the other prisoners. Whoever this was appeared to be well known amongst these people, and most certainly not liked.

When the mystery visitor finally turned the corner, Crocodile had more questions than answers. Some battered, swollen man in a full body brace was being pushed towards him in a wheelchair. That definitely wasn't what he had been expecting to see.

The prisoner in the cell across from him started laughing hysterically. "Holy hell, Spandam?! And here I thought your mug couldn't get any uglier!" More prisoners joined in on the laughter, visibly elated to see this Spandam character in his sorry state. Crocodile had no idea who this man was, though he can recall hearing the name thrown around a few times.

Spandam is brought to a halt in front of Crocodile's cell. The ex-warlord smirked down at the weak looking man before him. He walked up to the bars and slid his hand and hook through them, grinning when he saw Spandam deliberately wheel himself back a bit when he saw the gleaming hook.

"Leave." The order was barked at the guards accompanying Spandam.

They looked at him incredulously, "Sir, this is Level 6, we can't just-"

"I said leave! I want to speak to him alone!" For such a thoroughly beaten man, he had a surprising amount of bark to him.

The guards hesitated, but eventually sighed and left, looking downright relieved to get away from him. Crocodile stared down at Spandam, curious as to what business he had with him.

"You!" The man seethed.

Crocodile chuckled, "What about me?"

"Your daughter!" That certainly caught his attention. "That little monster attacked me!"

For a moment, everything was silent. Crocodile took in Spandam's appearance, then laughed. Hard. Harder than he has in a long time. When he finally calmed down, he responded to the insane claim, "Sure she did. And I'm here because the Marines defeated me." He chuckled again, finding the bold-faced lie amusing.

Spandam's face turned red in rage, "She did!" He reached into his mouth and ripped out a bridge, "That crazy bitch kicked out my teeth and bit my fingers off!" The hand clutching the bridge only had three fingers, the pinky and ring finger absent.

Crocodile sneered at him, not caring for hearing this pathetic whelp call his daughter such a thing. "Nubia catches insects and gives them to her body guards to release outside because she can't stand to kill them, and you want me to believe she did that? If you're going to lie, at least make it believable."

The wheelchair inched closer to the cell as Spandam tried to act tough and yell. "I am a World Government official! I'm the chief of CP9! You can't even begin to comprehend the power I have!"

"And yet you couldn't fend off a little girl!" A prisoner called out from down the block, making many of the others laugh.

Spandam was practically foaming at the mouth. He turned his head as much as he could with his brace and casts and scowled at the offending prisoner. Then he looked back at Crocodile with a maniacal grin. He wheeled himself even closer to the cell, "You know why I came down here? I wanted to tell you in person that when I get my hands on that girl again, I'm going to make the rest of her life a living hell! She'll be begging for me to kill her whe-"

His words are cut off when Crocodile lunges forward. His hook sank into Spandam's shoulder and yanked him closer, and his hand locked around his throat to prevent him from screaming and alerting the guards. Murmurs of excitement echoed down the block as every prison clamber to watch the entertaining spectacle.

Crocodile glowered at the idiot before him, squeezing his neck harder and relishing in the panicked thrashing and gurgling sounds coming out of him. He spoke slowly but firmly, making sure that this fool would hear every word.

"If you so much as look at her, I'll rip your eyes out with my hook. If you breathe the same air as her, I'll eviscerate you, and if you ever touch her," Crocodile squeezed his neck tighter and dug the hook in deeper, "I will kill you."

With that, Crocodile released Spandam, making sure to do as much damage as possible when he tore his hook out. The scream that he let out once he could breathe again was ear-piercing and caught the attention of the guards. Despite the blood still dripping from his hook, they said nothing to Crocodile and just focused on removing the shrieking man from the block.

Everyone was cheering Crocodile on, happy to see him tear into the CP9 Chief. Crocodile didn't register any of their words as he stared at his blood soaked hook. His daughter was specifically being targeted by some very powerful people.

He needed to get out of here, and fast. And when he did, Spandam was going to be his first victim.

[aquagirl1978]

Nightmares and Dreamscapes - Drake x Reader (Ikemen Vampire)

A/N: Whelp. I did it. I wrote about Drake and monster...something. Don't worry, there's no smut - I was not going there so I got creative. Thank @yanderepuck for poisoning my brain to the point that I wrote this, um...let's call it a crack kraken fic which could possibly be the most ridiculous thing I've ever written posted. If I even make one of you out there laugh, I'll be happy. Unlike Drake...

A/N #2: Disclaimer - I have not read any translations for Drake's route or his events. I am certain this will be wildly ooc and this was written as a joke between friends. I am sure Drake's deserves better, and one day I might write him a better. But that day is not today.

Pairing: Drake x Reader

Prompt: Drake has a nightmare. A very scary one. And it might have nvolved a kraken.

Word Count: 781

Tags: no actual smut, but Drake is...well...he's got some kinks.

“Drake?”

It was dark when Drake stirred in his sleep, awakening you from your slumber. He was mumbling incoherently, most likely in the midst of a dream. 

“No… No more…” His arms flailed in the bed, almost as if he was pushing something away. “Begone you vile creature!”

“Drake?” you whispered in his ear, rubbing your palm gently down his arm, hoping if this didn’t wake him, it would at least calm him. “Shhhh… It’s just a dream.”

When that didn’t seem to work, you wrapped your arms around his waist and pressed your body against his. “Drake,” you whispered in his ear, a bit louder this time, “you’re safe in your bed. In your home. Next to me, your lover.”

His body slowly stilled and the incoherent mumbling stopped. He turned in your arms and faced you; his silver hair was a complete mess, but he had the most adorable, embarrassed look on his face.

“Do you want to talk about your dream?” you asked softly as any caring lover would.

“Dream? It was a bloody nightmare! My God, it was horrible. Dreadful….” You listened as Drake described his nightmare – most of which involved a rather angry kraken – in far more detail than you ever cared to know.

“And then the Kraken finally let me go. Oh, it was awful. Please hold me.”

You took him into your arms, your fingertips barely touching him as you rubbed his shoulder. He rested his head in the crook of your neck, making soft whimpering sounds as he settled in.

You pulled back when you heard a different yet familiar sound. Worried he was dreaming again or something, your cause for alarm increased when you felt something wet on your skin.

“Are you….weeping?” Your hand flew to your mouth, preventing the laugh that was bubbling in your throat from escaping. You knew in your heart it was wrong to laugh at Drake right now, he was your lover after all. But instead, your mind kept imagining a giant – and ridiculous looking – kraken.

Drake looked up at you, teardrops glistening in his eyes. “You were not there. You do not know how….horrible…it was. It was truly frightening. Hold me again.” 

You tried your best to be a sympathetic lover. But try as you might, Drake did just remind you that you were not there in his nightmare, and clearly had no idea of how truly horrific his ordeal with the kraken exactly was.

“I know I wasn’t there,” you said, in your most soothing voice, “but…” Drake pressed his body against yours, causing you to pause, a familiar firmness pushing against your thigh.

“Drake?” you asked, truly confused as to how you would broach this touchy subject.

“Yes, my dear?” he replied sweetly in between sobs. 

You grimaced as if you just swallowed some awful tasting medicine. Here goes nothing. “Drake, are you, um…”

He looked up at you with the saddest puppy dog eyes. Maybe if you closed your eyes, you’d find yourself in a nightmare of your own and save you from whatever this was.

“How do I say this delicately…” you pondered aloud, “but are you…I dunno…excited right now?”

Utter confusion washed over his face. “Excited?"

You let out a very heavy sigh, “Really, Drake? You’re gonna make me say this?” He stared at you cutely; was he…batting his eyelashes at you? “Oh, for fuck’s sake…Drake, did the kraken turn you on?”

“What?! No! Absolutely not. That’s disgusting! What kind of animal do you think I am??” he shrieked at you, horrified. He then lowered his voice, his face hovering close to yours. “What would ever make you think that way?”

“Well, um….” Your gaze drifted down towards his hips. 

“Oh…that,” he said in a strangled voice. “Well, that’s rather embarrassing, isn’t it?”

You closed your eyes because maybe if you opened them, you’d wake up from this nightmarish hell. Right about now, the kraken wasn’t sounding too terrible.

“Hey…” 

You opened your eyes to find Drake staring at you. Nope, not a dream. Yet.

“Would you find me any less of a man if I did say that I did find the kraken…”

“Don’t even finish that sentence, Drake.”

“Sometimes…when I’m out at sea…”

“No, Drake…”

“And I have no idea when I will see you again…”

“Go to bed, Drake.”

You rolled over on your side, hoping this would give him a much needed hint.

“Psst…”

“Yes, Drake?”

“Did I mention they have tentacles?”

Drake soon found himself unceremoniously removed from the bed. He took his favorite blanket with him as he made a nest on the couch. 

“Well, that didn’t end well, did it? How disappointing.” 

Tagging: @redheadkittys @chaosangel767 @ikehoe @kpop-and-otome @lucyw260 @queengiuliettafirstlady @kisara-16 @lordsisterxotome @umi-adxhira @crypticbibliophile @tele86 @nightfoxqueen @wendolrea @randonauticrap @xbalayage @xenokiryu @nightghoul381 @alydra @ranhanabi777 @silver-dahlia @fang-and-feather @lunaaka @ikesenwritings

[scribbles97]

Listen

Whelp... after one hell of a haitus Scribbs is back writing for the Thunderbirds Are Go fandom again! It's been a while and what I've produced is only short, but it felt good to get back to my comfort characters again. Thank you @gumnut-logic for the hugs and support that you continue to give me <3

Virgil had known as soon as Gordon had sunk into the co-pilot seat on Two. 

A run of back-to-back rescues was the final nail in the coffin on a week that had seen them reach six out of eight continents, and more ocean than he dared to count. He wasn’t sure when he had last seen Scott, their paths crossing less frequently than normal with the financial year end meaning the board were demanding more of his older brother’s attention when he himself wasn’t out on a rescue. Grandma had caught them each time they had returned to the Island, hot food cooked by MAX readily available for them to wolf down as the ships refuelled. 

John had assured them as the retrieval mechanism had wound Four back into the module that there wasn’t anything else to demand their immediate attention. Their space-bound brother confident that they could all take a much needed break - world ending disasters notwithstanding. 

The way Gordon had paused as he had sat down and not immediately stretched his legs forwards as he always did on their way home was enough of a tell. 

Virgil had been piloting with the aquanaut at his side for years, and had known his brother for nearly two decades before that. They had seen the swimmer through rehabilitation after two life-altering accidents that had left him scarred and fragile - but not as broken as doctors would have anyone believe. 

Yet, he knew better than to comment. 

It wouldn’t be received well. 

Not when Gordon was still well enough to climb out of Four and make it back to the cock-pit of Two. There was clearly a niggle, something somewhere apparently sitting just not quite right, but that must have been all. 

Virgil hoped that a hot bath and some yoga once they got home would see his younger brother right. Gordon hated the bad days, the worst ones when his back locked up and the tension in the same muscles that provided much-needed support left him crippled. 

Virgil hated those days too. 

Hated that there was little any of them could do to help. 

It was the same reason Gordon was always so prickly when his back did decide to play up, knowing full well that painkillers and patience were the only real options when it came to riding out the ache. 

That he was quiet most of the ride home, save for the occasional sigh, simply served to assure Virgil he was right in his diagnosis. 

Gordon had two extremes when he was bothered by something - full throttle chatter, or deadly silence. Not that he’d ever admit it, and not that Virgil would call him out on it in the moment. 

Still, it was a big brother’s prerogative to at least ask. 

“You good?”

Gordon’s sigh was heavy next to him, answer enough in itself.

“Ready to be home.” 

Which was code for tired. 

Which was code for hurting. 

Because, for all Gordon was prickly when it came to his back, he wasn’t stupid. He was perhaps the most aware of them all as to how close he had come and how far he had to drag himself back. The rest of them had merely been spectating supporters, very much aware of the problem and its implications, but with no real idea of what it was like. 

None of them had a spine that was a third artificial. 

Gordon knew his limits - even if he did sometimes push them too far - and knew when to ask for help. An athlete at heart, he knew when to listen to his body and how to look after himself. He knew when enough was enough, and what was needed to reset himself to best function. 

He knew when to ask for help. 

Scott would have heard the coded response and immediately had any of them down to the med-bay. Big brother, ever protective over his brood, would have needed a full explanation and a med-scan before he had been convinced that it was just an ache that their little fish had been feeling. 

He meant well, but sometimes their oldest brother was blinkered by his need to keep younger brothers safe and well. Not that Virgil blamed him, Gordon had given them all enough grey hairs to warrant wrapping him in cotton wool for the rest of his life. 

Virgil knew he himself could be guilty of just the same, but he’d been working on it over the years. He’d taken the time to figure out the more subtle signs and listened to what Gordon was really telling him. 

Ready to be home, was an answer. 

It wasn’t stubborn silence - I’m hurt but I don’t want you to find out. 

It wasn’t inane chatter - I’m really hurt and you’re going to take me to hospital whether I like it or not. 

And it wasn’t an outright admission - I’m hurt but I already patched myself up so it’s fine. 

“Want a heat pack?” He offered, glancing across to gauge how well the question would be taken. 

Gordon’s grimace said enough, “I’ll get it - probably best to keep moving.” 

Virgil simply nodded, returning focus to keeping the flight of his ship as smooth as possible. They’d get home eventually, little brother would get his bath, some painkillers, and with any luck a few days off of rescues to recover fully. 

Whilst he did, Virgil would do what he did best, and listen.

[pinesfamilyguidetotheweird]

A Corduroy Tragedy

So...I was reading a tumblr post focused on Wendy (and the Wendip ship, which...I still don't care for, honestly. I mostly read it for the Wendy lore) and I came across something interesting.

And its from the Lost Legends comic. Like Journal 3, it too has hidden messages and I wanted to get mine so I can verify what was said in the post.

I don't have it immediately available at the moment (I left it in my mom's room and she's asleep, so I don't want to disturb her), but according to the post, the message had something to do with Wendy's mother.

And it's that she isn't die at some point, like many of us probably assumed (under the assumption that not everyone is privy to this).

The message hinted that she's trapped in another dimension. Sort of like Ford, but not really. Like, I don't think she's dimension hopping. She's trapped in one place. Perhaps this could give the idea that there are random portals/rifts than can appear and disappear.

And Wendy's mother accidentally encountered one and vanished without a trace. As for when...hard to say. Obviously, it was some time after the birth of Wendy's youngest brother, Gus.

We also don't know the ages of the Corduroy bros (except for being less than 15, since Wendy's the oldest child) and Marcus having facial hair surprisingly wouldn't help in this case because it could be a Corduroy thing, sort like how Wendy's height is a Corduroy trait.

Still, I'll take the facial hair for consideration just to make things easy. Of course, facial hair starts appearing during puberty, usually at the age of 13~16 (though some sources say 11~15 for facial hair growing at the corners).

So, I'd make the guessimate that Marcus (the oldest brother) is probably either 14 or 13 years old. The middle brother, Kevin, I'd say could be 3 years younger (11 or 10), and the youngest brother, Gus, is maybe 8.

I personally headcanon that Wendy lost her mother at around the same age as Dipper and Mabel. That headcanon remains true even with this new knowledge. Maybe Mrs. Corduroy went looking for something or went for a walk in the woods and fell through a random rift.

She gets reported missing and despite an extensive search, she was never found. It made no sense to the locals. Mrs. Corduroy knew the woods like the back of her hand, she couldn't've gotten lost. I can kinda see this as a reference to 411 cases.

And, perhaps, an incredible role model to Wendy.

Because...with a family like the Corduroys, I highly doubt that Mama Corduroy was a pansy. No, she was a down-to-earth and strong-willed woman with a sharp wit. She was an inspiration.

And now, she is gone. Vanished without a trace. It left the family devastated and Wendy in a bad headspace. There is a scene with Manly Dan's vehicle where there is a yellow ribbon sticker attached to the back...yeah.

To this day, Wendy still holds out hope that her mom will come back. And when she does, ask why. Even so, she knows that she's gonna have to move on.

This is...somehow more tragic than just having Mrs. Corduroy die in an accident. Because, at least with that, there is confirmation. There is a body. There isn't uncertainty. But, the idea that Mrs. Corduroy just...vanished?

It has a special type of hold...one that will linger for a long time.

Whelp, more angst fodder! Have at it!

...It's 11 pm and I should be asleep, but instead, I wrote this!

Yaaaay...

I am suffering a bit and I am taking y'all down with me.

[adelacreations]

Dragon Shifter AU

(might be confusing this with the fae au but i could've sworn you told me a bit about this one?? and i want more??)

Oh, I did tell you about the fae au! You can find me talking about it here - Fae Harringrove AU Talk!

But for the dragon shifter AU, I actually talked to @lamay13 about this AU for a while. I need to like to get off my ass and finish Chapter 1! But the premise is that Steve's mom is a dragon shifter who married a human. Steve was born but he didn't have any of the dragon shifter traits so she believed he was born human which can happen when dragon shifters breed with human beings. The only thing is that she is so obsessed with the idea of living as a human that she more or less neglects Steve until something in her tells her to go back to Hawkins.

Still a harringrove fic but it's also about the developing relationship between Steve and his mom. Who calls him lovingly a 'whelp'

WIP Summary: Warning for gore and mutilation:

“I’m not going to hurt you Steven, I just want to see-” “B-But-” Amelinda snorted through her nose half expecting smoke to come out of her nostrils, her hand reaching out to run through his hair, Steven leaning into it almost immediately, a loud whimper leaving his lips. “Let me see, turn around. Your back.” Steven was a big boy now but she still managed to pull most of his torso on top of her lap, his arms wrapping around his middle. Amelinda clicked her tongue slightly at the state of Steve’s back. Bones stretching and pushing against the skin of his back, threatening to break the skin. The first transformation was always the most painful, she knew, recalling her own. The flayed skin that hung from her back that her mother had carefully removed with her claws. “When you have your own whelp, it might be best to cut through the skin, makes less of a mess.”  Amelinda hesitated just a bit, this…this could be considered bodily harm to a child. Her child. But Steven’s loud cry of pain as the bones of his wings stretched and pressed against the skin made her disregard any human conceptions. She gave a small hiss of her own, feeling her nails lengthen and stretch from their cuticles. Blood beading from them as she formed her claws, hovering over Steven’s back. “Steven, you are going to be fine. Just hold-” “What’s happening to me!” “Nothing that isn’t normal for someone like you. Like me, this is going to hurt but trust me…it’s better than the alternative,” she continued, running her hand through his hair. She needed to get his wings out, at least to ease that pain. Amelinda looked around her child’s room, tempted to take him to the garage but…young whelps like him always want to be in their nests for now. Later…

[esther-dot]

What do you think about Jaime's fate? Is he doomed by a narrative? Is he doomed because of the show? Or does he stand a chance?

Personally I'd like to believe that he would live. As far as I can remember (I could totally be wrong though) the most evil thing he does in the series is the Bran thing. And westerosi karma already held him responsible - he loses his ability to do that one thing that he loves the most and becomes disabled just like Bran. He's not the kindest, bravest, most noble etc person in the westeros but he's far from being evil like ramsey or tywin or cersei. Imho he's way better than fan favourite boy tyrion and not so favourite boy stannis - for a bunch of reasons. I just don't want him to die although chances are, well, questionable.

So how do you see his chances to survive?

Hope you're having a nice - or at least decent - day!

It's lovely weather, and I took a long walk first thing which means, it's a great day in my book. Thank you!

I can't remember what specifically convinced me, but somewhere along the line I accepted that Jaime and Cersei would die together, so I believe D&D got that from Martin. I wrote at the time that Jaime is a better man for returning to his sister/lover/mother of his children than leaving her to die alone, so I didn't share the opinion of the rest of the fandom there. It's really easy to project our feelings about a character onto a different character, and I think that happens a lot with those two.

Anyway, since then, @istumpysk has collected all the book foreshadowing for them to die together (here, a long google doc about it, more here), so I give him no chance of survival.

Ramsay is cartoonishly evil, so I don't think he's particularly interesting. Tyrion is Martin's fav and will likely benefit from that, Stannis is doomed, but Jaime really is an interesting character. My controversial take is that I don't think he's more deserving of a happy ending than Cersei who all the fandom recognizes will die. Yes, this a) reads like foreshadowing for King Bran, and b) also reads like karma:

"Does the sight of my stump distress you so?" Jaime asked. "You ought to be pleased. I've lost the hand I killed the king with. The hand that flung the Stark boy from that tower. The hand I'd slide between my sister's thighs to make her wet." He thrust his stump at her face. "No wonder Renly died, with you guarding him." (ASOS, Jaime V)

but I didn't think Jaime fundamentally changed as a person as far as values go? That's a severe punishment for him, I'm not gonna minimize what it means to him, but I did laugh in the show when he's facing Bran and unapologetic because to me, that's Jaime. Martin writes kid killing as a big no-no. Jaime is pretty cavalier about it:

Jaime got to his feet. "Your wife may whelp before that. You'll want your child, I expect. I'll send him to you when he's born. With a trebuchet." (AFFC, Jaime VI) Ask Edmure how chivalrous I am, thought Jaime. Ask him about the trebuchet. Somehow he did not think the maesters were like to confuse him with Prince Aemon the Dragonknight when they wrote their histories. Still, he felt curiously content. (AFFC, Jaime VII)

Now, I don't think dying with Cersei is necessarily meant to be read as karma for Bran, but I included the above for two reasons.

1.Jaime is a foil to Jon, I believe we're meant to contrast Jon's, morally grey perhaps, attempt to save a child with Jaime's disregard for one, and overall compare what their upbringing, the morals or lack thereof instilled, have formed of these two who had similar dreams, experienced disillusionment, shared the same hero:

They were not little boys when they fought, but knights and mighty heroes. "I'm Prince Aemon the Dragonknight," Jon would call out... (ASOS, Jon XII)

2. Jaime and Cersei are a variation on the Aemon and Naerys idea, and the parallels between Jaime and Jon, Sansa and Cersei, point to Jonsa being the positive variation of the old tale. So that expectation, in which Jon will successfully save Sansa from a marriage she doesn't want (hello girl in grey prophecy) and they'll fulfill the maiden/warrior vision that Jaime once had of himself and Cersei, the underlying, uh, preoccupation with and loyalty to their sisters (that Jaime has and Jon will have post reunion) means I'm ok with Jaime deciding his fate is to be with Cersei, in birth, in life, even in death. As I thought it worked in the show, returning to Cersei in the books will likewise mean he is able to have some self-respect. I don't think you can read his, I mean, I would say Cersei obsession and believe he'd ever have any peace of mind if she died alone while he had to go on living. We will get a healthier, happier version of the “brother/sister” (in the Targaryen sense) relationship with Jon/Sansa to complete the convo which is important to keep in mind when bemoaning the fate of certain characters--their endgames are part of a much bigger picture.

I thought this was a great write-up of his character which you might enjoy reading:

But what’s so vital about Jaime is that this is who he is - a bad person, a person willing to kill children to achieve his aims - but it isn’t all he is. And the point of introducing him as a POV is to force us to confront this fact, the fact that this would-be childkiller is also a three-dimensional, even sympathetic man with his own heartaches and struggles, with a sense of humor and a sense of honor and the saved lives of half a million people to his name. The good deeds don’t cancel out the bad, but neither do the bad cancel out the good. And instead of allowing us to take the easy path and categorizing him as either ‘purely evil’ or ‘wholly redeemed,’ the story simply pushes us to dwell within the psyche of this complex, broken man who is neither fully one nor the other. (link)

[spacerangersam]

whelp. had perhaps the most embarrassing call of my life where i panicked for like. five minutes straight about not knowing my weight, running around the house madly looking for functioning scales and batteries while me being told i for sure had to have at least an idea of what my weight is (i sincerely do not), but uh. anyway, starting t soon

[honey-minded-hivemind]

The platonic yanderes I've mentioned before all have nicknames and relationships with their bby (a.k.a. you, the reader!). How they met their bby is considered a special, life-changing moment in their eyes, and they are protective in their own... special... ways. But that story will come at a later date. For now, I think I should delve into some smaller stuff , so let's explore the type of humor and nicknames between these platonic yans and their bby:

• 🧡Wolverine/Logan Howlett🦡: nicknames for his bby: pup, bub, darlin', shortstack (regardless of if you are shorter than him or taller than him)

Nicknames his bby gives him: Lo, Old Guy, Wulv, Mr. Cigarette Duet (the bby might have either been testing the waters with that one, or under anesthesia. People say weird things under that stuff)

Their humor: dry humor and small quips

• 🦁Sabretooth/Victor Creed🦷: nicknames for his bby: cub, fresh meat, whelp, kitten

Nicknames his bby gives him: Vic, Large Lion Man, Shere Khan, Mr. Backstabber (both literally and metaphorically, bby has seen him do both, it was messy)

Their humor: cat puns

• 🦡Wolverine 2.0/Laura Kinney💛: nicknames for her bby: fox, pearl, sibling-in-arms, honeybee

Nicknames her bby gives her: Laurel, Kin-ship, Baby Claws, Little Badger

Their humor: stand up comedy (where you pretty much do a spoken caricature of your life, poking fun at it, or something that happens to you)

• 🐺Daken/Akihiro🌀: nicknames for his bby: beautiful, doll, handsome, my favorite (insert sexuality/gender)

Nicknames his bby gives him: Wolf Guy, Seducter, Nature's Child, Lone Wolf (the bby calls him Seducter because they found out about his pheromone ability. And yeah, the bby poked fun at the fact it failed on the bby, because they aren't attracted to him in the least like that)

Their humor: quips and movie references

• 🔥Marvel Girl/The Phoenix/Jean Grey🦚: nicknames for her bby: sunshine, dear, sweetie, firecracker

Nicknames her bby gives her: Miss Marvelous, Venus, mind games, Jeanie

Their humor: inside jokes

• 😎Cyclops/Scott Summers🚨: nicknames for his bby: kiddo, shortstuff, kid, gremlin

Nicknames his bby gives him: Scout, Shades, Laser-Light, Ruby in the Rough (bby wanted him to feel good about his power, so they say those nicknames in a nice fashion)

Their humor: puns all the way

• 🥈Cable/Nathan Summers🤖: nicknames for his bby: tiny, powerhouse, tyke-bomb, brat (he means these nicely, even if he is gruff and stern)

Nicknames his bby gives him: Back To The Future, Terminator, Metal Man, Mr. Robocop (bby couldn't help themself, they saw so many nickname opportunities)

Their humor: banter and witty remarks

• 🎭Mystique/Raven Darkholme💙: nicknames for her bby: child, precious, dear, little heathen

Nicknames her bby gives her: Karma Chameleon, Blue, enchantress, The Blue Fairy

Their humor: witty and dry remarks

• 🎱Rogue/Anne-Marie🥀: nicknames for her bby: suga', hun, love, sweetheart

Nicknames her bby gives her: Miss-Anne-thrope, Marie, Killer Queen, lovedove

Their humor: Southern stand up comedy and phrases ("sweet Southern heat is not just a flavor", "sweeter than apple pie", and jokes of all the various animals found in the South, especially in weird and concerning places)

• ♠️Gambit/Remy LeBeau♥️: nicknames for his baby: Ace of Spades, imp, bebe, ma moitie

Nicknames his bby gives him: King of Hearts, Sugar and Spice, trickster, Jack

Their humor: poking fun at languages and their relationships (the English and French language are hard to master. Good job if you understand half of it, or even a little of it)

• 🌌Nightcrawler/Kurt Wagner😇: nicknames for his bby: angel, treasure, friend, beauty

Nicknames his bby gives him: doll-baby (it is a Southern nickname, it means sweet, charming, and innocent, in my area), Angel of the Night, fluffball, Blue (Da Ba Dee)

Their humor: pranks. Pranks all around

These are all my opinion, and if you get the references, great job! If not, that is okay! These were my ideas of nicknames and humor for previously mentioned platonic yanderes (plus their bby's nicknames for them!). I hope you enjoyed these platonic yandere honeycomb thoughts!

[mitamicah]

Now I finally seem to be able to do things let me present to you the results of the 'vibe' polls :3

Earlier this week I jumped on the hype train for polls about which bandmember of JO + what character in the käärijä universe you felt I shared a vibe with.

Now I could have shared the results earlier but one thing to know about me is that I often get stupid ideas so I decided that whoever you chose that I shared a vibe with I'd cosplay

So after having searched my closet for things that somehow worked without further ado here's the Joker Out member you guys voted I shared vibe with:

I got

Jure aka the cat 😸

I mean it was not even close x'D

This surprised me since I hadn't expected to be paired with the cat boy xD But thinking about it I can see why you guys would chose him - we share a sort of bubbly excitment for things and - at least online - I can come off as very energetic and silly x'D Also I am known to randomly meow at people x'D

However, personally I feel like Jure is way more extroverted than I am and so I am glad to see Nace being the second highest :'D I feel like we do indeed share a sense of calm/silent presence while still being able to join in on the fun - I think where I might divert from Nace is that I am definitely not good at being the mom friend :'D x'D

For Bojan in third I think we're back to the 'I see why you'd say that because I am quite energetic and excited online but also he is way more extroverted than I believe I am' argument :'D yet like I'll elaborate on below with the comments for the tags I can definitely see the points for why Bojan could fit :3

Jan and Kris being so far behind is ooooph x'D Well, I can kind of understand tho especially Kris :'D I am not sure I'd call myself a Kris either - he is way too cool and sassy compared to me x'D Jan might be too laid back idk?

Now, tag time :3

@sve-sto-znam Micek - I love it x'D (First nickname unlocked x'D hahahah)

@c28hunter + @anxious-witch awwwn you are both too nice :'3 Especially you, Eryka calling me a comfort blog 😭

@merlilica whelp x'D I see you definitely picked up on my excited puppy and/or orange cat vibes x'D I don't blame you :'D

@j-restlessgeek this one hits close to home :'3 because yes I am quite hard on myself and have always been :'D Also I can be a bit of a jack of all trades (master of none) sometimes x'D the last point is honestly very true - I am way too much of a rulefollower to cheat x'D

Now onto the Käärijä universe results

You guys chose ...

Häärijä

Actually, that didn't surprise me much x'D I would probably too have chosen the little yellow man given that all his little quirks reads as very autistic to me which to a dorky autistic person like me is very fitting x'D He seems a bit confused but a good guy and sport and I would like to think myself the same :'D Also we both have a dumptruck of an ass x'D

Käärijä and Jaakko sharing second surprised me tho - especially Jaakko but that might be because I am not sure what his personality is tbh x'D so I am curious to hear if either of you voting Jaakko could tell me what makes me a Jaakko :'D? Käärijä I can sort of understand since I have probably stolen way too much/let me inspire of his aesthetic recently x'D yet I also see it as a sort of compliment because I have indeed felt more confident (both in my body and in my weirdness) lately :'D <3

Third is a big tie but that is to be expected I guess when there's not many votes (which is fair it is a harder poll to answer :'D) so Jesse, Bojan and Tommy takes that spot :3

Time for comments on tags :D

@bisonaari see now it is here I'd love to hear from you (if you want to and/or have time mind you) Bison what exactly it means to be Jaakko coded since I am not sure myself :'D

@j-restlessgeek fair x'D

@anxious-witch This is so interesting since you pretty much just guessed my major x'D Sociology was my favourite topic the year I studied Journalism and after that I moved to study Psychology which is sort of the same thing so kudos to you to read me this well x'D I find it intersting as well that you mentioned me being right in other polls because personally I felt so lost in many of the polls x'D For that reason I tried only tagging on polls I was a bit more sure about and even then it was a lot of following the gut feeling x'D but really I don't mind I see it as a compliment being compared to Bojan :3 xD

And that was this - that was this very long and probably overly detailed rundown of the results x'D Thank you for everybody participating :3

[kudzuoath]

I'm embarrassed to not be anon for this but I want to try and write some Gale fic and I'm just in awe over how well you've captured his "voice" in your work. Do you have any tips for that? Either Gale in particular or just in general?

Thanks!!

Asdfghjkl anon you have no idea how flattered I am to hear this. Gale kind of comes easily to me because. Well. I too am someone with a big vocabulary that just. Uses it. That said, I’ll try to string together some tips!

1) if you can say it with more words, or more “complex” words, you should. Though be careful of using the thesaurus tool— some similar words have very different meanings!

For example instead of saying “your dog ate my shoes” go with something like “it would seem our canine companion has developed a rather unfortunate taste for footwear — mine in particular!”

(His habit of using ten words where three will do is particularly funny given how annoyed he is with Elminster for doing the same thing. Albeit more archaically.)

2) related to the above but use metaphors and go purple with his dialogue. He’s a self confessed poet who has thousands of books. He’s probably read all of them. Gale is often using metaphors (and something else.. similes? The proper term escapes me) in conversation. For example in his romance scene in act two he says something like “the weary sun makes its nightly dive into the sea”.

3) while this man seems to think he’s better off dead, he often projects an air of self confidence capability and knowledge. He can definitely be catty, even if it’s a stealthy kind of catty! And he will make his opinions known.

4) “cat owner” voice. The infamous “stop licking the damn thing!” Line. I don’t know why this helps me but it does. Another line/moment that helps me keep things sorted is that if you break up with him, he legit cries. But says “I seem to have gotten some dust from the road in my eyes” or something to that effect.

5) Gale has a sort of blasé “whelp, everything has gone wrong, must keep going” air as a baseline. Which isn’t to say he doesn’t care, just that he seems like the sort distance himself from painful things. And he’s canonically spent at least a year isolating himself from everyone except his cat.

And that’s all I got! Other than just listening to his lines in game. I find if I can mentally hear a character, it helps me keep things in line. This is helpful for ALL characters, even ocs. At least for me. A voice claim helps me keep my dialogue consistent to itself, and unique to whoever is speaking.

Good luck!! If you write a thing, send it to me and I’ll read it! :D