#with Ripple the only thing I really have figured out is hairstyle and that's it

[hershelwidget]

Something something here’s the gang but even funkier than before

cannot stop giggling at how much Undertow does n o t look like a professional doctor and how TINY Apollo is and how much Marigold’s outfit resembles Nastasia from SPM

please don’t consider these official designs until I draw them in my notebook, these are just kinda bases or big ideas as to what they’d look like

[impulsivefanwriter]

That Time At Least Four Kais Met

So uhhh I was thinking about how cool a crossover between @sunnylighter ’s awesome fic series ‘The Grass is Always Greener’ and @kittydemon9000 ’s amazing fic ‘Same People But Not Really’ would be and then I realized that the Kaiverse AU exists so… uh…

I guess the moral of the story is ‘be the crossover you wanna see in the world’?

Smith: Show!Kai (SPBNR)

Red: Movie!Kai (SPBNR)

Spike: Show!Kai (GiAG)

Buddy: Movie!Kai (GiAG)

Aki: Show!BizarroEvilCloneKai

——————————————————

This day had officially gone weird, and there was one thing Buddy thought he was familiar with, it was weird.

Buddy knew the multiverse existed. The proof of it was walking next to him on Garmadon’s volcanic island after one of their shared body-guarding classes. If you would have told him he’d be taking security classes from Lord Garmadon with an alternative version a week before Lil’Loyd had crash-landed in their realm, he would have first laughed and then offered you a hug to see if you were alright. 

And yet, here he was.

Spike was just explaining to him that one move he hadn’t managed to figure out in class when a portal ripped into existence in front of them. Now, that wasn’t actually that uncommon; between the Ultra Dragon and Meowthra, travel between the two realms was remarkably smooth. The unusual part about this specific portal, however, was how much smaller it was compared to when one of the two giant creatures travelled. 

A figure flew out of the portal, stumbling in the sand before regaining his balance He slammed into Spike, shoving Buddy’s counterpart out of the way with a sharp growl and taking off in a sprint in a random direction Buddy recognized as the way to the underwater glass tunnel connecting the volcano and Ninjago City. 

Buddy stood there blinking as Spike yelled after the figure. For a moment he could have sworn the mysterious newcomer had looked a little like Spike, but with glowing red eyes and a paler, almost washed-out look to him. 

But before he could get far in his train of thought, the portal rippled with new shapes, and Buddy’s brain promptly stuttered to a halt.

The first thing he recognized was a dragon- a big, red, freaking dragon that was NOT Ultra, with multiple people riding on their head and back. The second was that there was some kind of knight, and some kid that looked like the Kai-version of Lil’Loyd, and someone that vaguely resembled an Oni from that one book Buddy had read, and a guy with a headband and staff that Buddy had the strangest feeling he should recognize, and some bewildered guy that looked vastly different from the rest of the group and had some kind of… slug slinger? , and-

The dragon skidded to a halt, promptly launching one of the people off their head. The person catapulted into the sand- or, well, he would have, had Buddy not been standing in the way.

When the sand and dust cleared from his eyes, Buddy found himself staring into the eyes of… himself? And not in the ‘this guy is like Spike’ way, but in the ‘genuinely looks like me with the scar on the same side and hair styled like a really cool flame (NOT A BUNCH OF BANANAS, SERIOUSLY, NICK JAY?). The doppelgänger sat up with a groan, then looked down at Buddy. His face split with a wide smile.

“No way! Finally a Kai that looks like me and not Smith! You- are a Kai, right?”

Buddy nodded, too stunned to speak as he noticed that the rest of the entourage looked much too similar to him and Spike (mostly Spike, honestly) to be coincidence.

The doppel Buddy whooped and pumped one fist in the air. “Yes! I’m not the only one who knew this hairstyle was fire! Smith, hey Smith!” He craned his neck to look at another Spike-like Kai climbing off the dragon and hurrying over. “This realm’s Kai is like me!”

Smith- oh, like Kai Smith, clever- stared at Spike, who stared back. “Red? I think there might be two Kais in this realm.”

Red- for the red ninja, also clever- looked over at Spike and deflated in excitement slightly before shaking it off. “Still cool! They’re like us!” He turned back to Buddy. “Hi, I’m Kai Smith, so are most of them behind me, call me Red!”

Buddy sat up, starting to grin. He couldn’t help it, honestly. When it came to multiverse shenanigans, he’d learned to roll with it. “Kai Smith, but you can call me Buddy. That’s also Kai, but you can call him Spike.”

Red snorted. “The hair, right? Smith’s is the same.”

“It’s not that bad!” Spike protested. Smith just looked resigned. 

Red helped Buddy up. “Sorry about crashing into you. It’s a little hard holding onto Drake’s - he’s another Kai, by the way- horns when he hits the breaks. Mer and MK have gotten flung off once or twice. Elias got flung on when we crashed through his dimension for a few seconds and accidentally dragged him along- he’s not exactly a Kai, but we had him fill out the checklist and it lines up.”

“The checklist?” Buddy asked, only really registering the last part of that sentence.

Smith was the one to speak up this time. “Some kind of connection to fire, spiky-ish hair, a found family, pushing aside your trauma and insecurities for the sake of protecting the people you care about- don’t scowl, Spike, we compartmentalize and you know it, it’s not healthy-“

“He’s a hypocrite,” Red whispered to Buddy. “He gives Smith Advice™️ to everyone but himself, which is ironic, considering he technically has by giving it to me. Trust me: you got a problem, Smith can fix it.”

Spike interrupted Smith’s lecture. “Moving on, other than the obvious, who are you all and why are you here?”

Smith shot him a brief glare- they would be returning to the Smith Talk™️ later- before explaining. 

Buddy and Spike listened to a shortened story of how Smith had been wished into Red’s realm by his world’s Garmadon. The conniving lord had thought ahead about his attempts to escape and return home and had sent along an evil clone of Smith as a glorified babysitter, an arrangement neither Smith nor ‘Aki’ were happy with. When they got to that part of the story, Spike winced. “Yeah, I remember the clones. Ouch. Not a fun day of fights.”

Buddy looked at him with curiosity- he’d never had to deal with evil clones, and with the exception of Aki, neither had Red- and listened to the rest of the story. Apparently Aki had stolen Red’s world’s realm crystal and it had shattered during a fight, dragging Aki, Smith, and Red into another realm and allowing them to hop between dimensions. Smith and Red had been chasing Aki across the multiverse and gathering other Kais along the way, hence the small army.

Aki’s latest escapade had apparently led the group here, with Aki having run off after bumping into Spike. 

“He’s headed toward the tunnels.” Buddy realized at the same time Spike said, “If he makes it to Ninjago City-“

A four-letter word that Buddy would not be repeating in front of Lil’oyd rolled over the beach. All heads turned toward where the glass tunnel entrance was.

Red and Smith both took a step back in sync. “What is that??”

Buddy smiled in relief and waved to the giant demon cat that padded out of the tunnel. “That’s Meowthra! She’s friendly as long as you don’t threaten either Lloyd or point the Ultimate Weapon at the city.”

Squirming in the hold of the big cat like some disgruntled kitten was the very angry original figure who had burst out of the portal. Aki, right, that’s what Smith had called him. 

One of the other Kais (the normal looking one, like he had no elemental powers and instead had a- WAS THAT A GUN?- strapped to his belt) let out a long-suffering sigh. “I hate alternative dimensions.”

Meowthra plopped down on the beach next to the group, eyeing the dragon Kai (Drake, Buddy would later learn the name of) like she would Ultra. This squad (group? Gaggle? Flock?) of Kais better be ready to be kittened by her. It was easier once you got it through your skull that it was inevitable. 

“Well, we don’t have to worry about him getting away for now,” Spike said. “Once Meowthra grabs you, there is no escape.”

The evil clone hanging above them continued to swear and kick up a hissyfit. 

Red put one hand on his forehead to shade out the sun as he looked up. “What should we do with him?”

“How about you buttheads explain first?”

The entire group whirled around. Drake started growling, the normal-looking Kai flinched but ultimately looked tired and used to it, and the other Kais made various noises of anger and defence.

Lord Garmadon took a sip of his ‘World’s Worst Recently Remarried Dad’ mug and crossed two of his arms, unfazed. “One of you nerds better start fessing up before the press finds out and throws more fuel into the cloning theory fire.”

So yeah, all in all, a very weird day, if Buddy had to say so himself.

[iam93percentstardust]

Prompt: Stony, animal transformation

I realized about halfway through writing this that you probably meant a spell or something but I wrote shifters instead and I really liked what I had so I kept going. Sorry it’s a lot crackier than you were probably expecting; you can blame @maguna-stxrk for that

As always, everything I write is also available on ao3

~

“No.”

The first time Tony met Steve Rogers, he was both delighted and irritated. Delighted because hey! Captain America is another cat shifter! And that means that Howard was wrong and Tony is, in fact, like Captain America (in some ways at least; in others, that remains to be proven).

“I won’t do it.”

And irritated because Captain America is another cat shifter.

“You can’t make me.”

Tony knows that there are cat shifters out there who are perfectly friendly and like being around other cats. He is not one of them. There are multiple reasons why he and Steve clashed on the helicarrier and only one of them is Loki’s staff. Tony’s breed is highly territorial and everything in his tower is his and he doesn’t want another cat in there rubbing up against his stuff. But there Fury is, insisting that the entire team move into the tower.

“I don’t want them there,” Tony says flatly. That’s not entirely true. He doesn’t really want any of them there but he’s willing to put up with them. The only one he really truly genuinely doesn’t want there is Steve.

It’s probably a good thing none of the rest of the team is here to hear him complaining about them. But, well, they should know better than to expect friendliness out of him. He’s not friendly. He’s majestic and aloof and not in the mood to have anyone else around to see him when he’s not being majestic and aloof.

Fury eyes him. Tony doesn’t know what kind of shifter he is—he keeps that kind of paperwork on actual paper, ew—but he wouldn’t be surprised if it’s something sneaky and devious like Fury himself (probably a snake. Tony hates snakes).

“Stark, the ways I could make you do what I want—”

“—are all against the Geneva Convention,” Tony finishes smoothly. In his reflection on the table, he realizes that the tuft of hair behind his ear isn’t lying flat. He licks the back of his hand and reaches up to smooth the hairs back down.

“Stark.”

“Fury.”

“We are running out of options—”

“Well, that sounds like a you problem.”

“—for Clint.”

Tony shuts up. Sighs. Glances through the window of the conference room where he can see Clint leaning against the wall, stuck in partial shift since Loki and the invasion. His golden tail is tucked between his legs, his ears are drooped, and he flinches like a kicked puppy (not an inaccurate description) every time someone walks by.

“How bad is it?” he asks.

“People don’t want him on the helicarrier,” Fury says. “He makes them nervous. His pack bonds were broken when Loki took him, and with Coulson—well.”

Yeah, that. Dog shifters like Clint rely on pack bonds, even those formed between non-dogs. Tony’s always been more of a loner so he can’t really imagine what Clint is going through but judging by the way Clint looks, he can guess it isn’t easy.

“They’ve all been briefed on what it’s like living with a cat, even Rogers, and they know about your idiosyncrasies in particular.”

And that’s the crux of the matter. “I don’t want him there,” Tony says quietly.

“He’s not the same breed—”

“But he’s got the same instincts!” He sighs frustratedly and almost runs his hand through his hair before he realizes how much that’ll mess up his hairstyle. His tail lashes agitatedly behind him, instincts urging him to claw, to bite, to protect his home from the invader. “Why can’t it just be Clint?”

“Because where Clint goes, Natasha goes. Besides, Clint needs the pack bonds, which means he needs the whole team.”

Tony hisses, crosses his arms, pouts. “Fine,” he says eventually. “But I don’t like it.”

And then, before Fury can feel too smug in his victory, he keeps aggressive eye contact and knocks Fury’s water glass off the table, darting away before he can hear more than the bellow of rage.

 ~

“I don’t want you here,” Tony says, ears laced back irritably. It’s the first time he’s come across Steve in the tower so far and of course the man (well, actually he’s shifted into his cat form right now) is lying in Tony’s favorite sunbeam. The nerve of some people.

The single eye that Tony can see slits open and stares at him for a long moment. In the next moment, a ripple comes over the cat and then Steve has partially shifted back, stretching lazily as he yawns. “Okay, Tony,” he agrees.

“You’re in my sunbeam.”

“Okay, Tony.”

“I want you out of it.”

“But it’s such a nice sunbeam.”

“It’s mine.”

“We could share it.”

Tony lets out an offended yowl. They can’t share it. That would defeat the purpose of it being his. Steve stares at him for a long moment and then stretches again, muscles rippling in interesting ways that make Tony want to knead them for—no. No kneading. No accepting the interloper.

“Come on, Tony. It’s sunny and I want to nap. We can share the sunbeam,” Steve says around another yawn before flopping over onto his side, still mostly human. Tony wants to bite his tail. But… he does want a nap. And this is favorite sunbeam. And he shouldn’t have to find another one since there’s no way Steve will be leaving this one (sadly Tony has not yet figured out the right strength the armor needs to move him).

He carefully lays down, putting several inches of space between him and Steve. Almost immediately, he can feel the effects of the warm sun on him, pulling him under into a light doze. It’s not enough to fall asleep entirely, not when he can still feel Steve at his front but then Steve starts to purr and oh, that’s kind of nice. He hesitantly lets out an answering purr of his own. Steve’s rumble grows louder and almost without meaning to, Tony finds his hands kneading the ground contentedly.

~

But that won’t stand. It can’t stand. He conceded ground on the sunbeam because it and Steve were warm and that was clearly a mistake because now Steve is standing in the kitchen, drinking coffee from Tony’s favorite coffeepot out of Tony’s favorite mug as he talks to Natasha.

And this injustice cannot stand!

“Mine,” he hisses, fingers shifting into extended claws, ready to tear into Steve for daring to drink from what clearly belongs to Tony.

At his hiss, Natasha’s skin ripples until she’s scaly and blending in with the cabinets. Smart of her to stay out of his way. Few things are worse than a territorial cat and even someone as lethal as Natasha would hesitate to face him when he’s like this, even though Steve gives her an amused look and says, “Really?”

Steve takes another sip out of the mug. Tony’s hiss turns into a full-throated growl. “Tony, you have to learn to share.”

“No.”

“Yes, you do.”

“Mine.”

“Yeah, you said that.” Steve doesn’t sound very impressed. Or even particularly intimidated, damn it.

“It’s my mug, it’s my favorite mug, you have to give it back,” Tony says, eyes tracking the mug as Steve lifts it to his lips again—wow, they looked kind of pink and pretty in the morning—no, focus. “Give it.”

“Alright,” Steve says agreeably and holds the mug out. “Here you go.”

Tony’s tail lashes and he hisses again. “You know I don’t like to be handed things.”

“Oh right,” Steve says, sounding remarkably unconcerned. “Too bad then. Guess you’re not getting your mug back.” He takes another sip from the mug—Tony’s mug.

“No,” Tony whines, drawing the word out so that it has at least eight additional syllables. He flops over onto the kitchen table, rolling around mostly so that he’s treating this situation with the hysteria it deserves but also so that he can scent mark the table, which currently smells of the rest of the team and not like him.

“Tony, stop being overdramatic,” Natasha orders, apparently deciding that she doesn’t need to blend in with the background anymore. “Steve, stop being a shit and give him back his mug.”

“No,” they both say petulantly.

She pulls out one of the many, many knives she keeps on her person. Tony hurriedly rolls off the table. Steve quickly puts the mug down and pulls out another one. Immediately, Tony darts to his mug—all his, no one else’s—and cradles it to his chest.

“That’s better,” Natasha says smugly and stalks out of the kitchen.

Tony waits until she’s gone and Steve has filled his new mug. Then, as Steve busies himself with cooking his breakfast, he slowly, cautiously reaches out and bats Steve’s mug off the counter. He gleefully sprints out of the kitchen to the sound of Steve’s outraged yowls, clutching his own mug close.

~

“Clint says you’ve been working too long,” Steve says, surprising Tony so much all the fur on his tail stands straight up.

“Fuck,” he spits. “I have a heart condition, you know.”

“Yeah,” Steve agrees like the asshole cat he is. “But I don’t think I’m going to give you a heart attack just by sneaking up on you. Not my fault you were in a zone.”

Tony grumbles wordlessly under his breath. It’s true that he’s been in a zone for the last couple hours or so, something that he achieves only through kneading or inventing, but that’s no reason for Clint to be concerned.

“Why do you care if Clint says I’ve been working too long?” he asks. Steve picks up one of his screwdrivers and spins it between his fingers before setting it back down. Tony immediately picks it up as well and rubs his cheek on it to cover it in his scent again. Steve shoots him a mischievous grin and promptly moves further away to do the same thing to a different screwdriver. Tony resigns himself to losing another couple of hours to scent marking everything once Steve is gone.

“I don’t,” Steve says, now rubbing up against one of the armors (and no, Tony is not thinking about how good Steve looks like that). “I thought we were doing a great job of ignoring each other. But he says it’s been more than twenty-four hours, which means it’s time for a break.”

“Says who?”

“Pepper, apparently.”

Tony winces. Okay, yeah, he can ignore pretty much everyone except for Pepper. She’s important.

“So you’re… what, here to drag me upstairs for dinner?”

Steve shakes his head and holds up a bag in his hand. “Thought I’d offer to split a bag of catnip with you.”

Huh.

“Huh,” Tony says out loud. He eyes it suspiciously. “It’s not laced with anything else, is it? You’re not going to take me to knock me out and take me to Medical.”

“Just pure catnip.” Steve opens the bag and Tony’s eyes dilate at the intoxicating scent. “Why, do you need to go to Medical?”

Tony thinks of the two cracked ribs he suffered during the battle yesterday that he’d wrapped himself. “Nope,” he says blithely. Steve’s eyes narrow but he doesn’t argue. “Are you going to judge me for straight up eating it?”

“Are you going to judge me for doing the same?”

“Fair,” he says and holds out a hand for the bag. Steve upends it and dumps half in Tony’s hand, watching without judgment as Tony stuffs half of it into his mouth.

And when Tony comes back from his catnip-induced high to finds himself fully shifted, Steve’s own shifted form wrapped so tightly around him that his short tabby fur is mingling with Tony’s longer white fur, there’s no judgment there either, just Steve purring and purring and purring.

~

“Why do you do it?” Tony quietly asks Steve one night. Some animated movie is playing on the screen but Tony doesn’t think anyone is actually paying attention to it. The rest of the team is busy sleeping together in a cuddle pile in their shifted forms, Clint’s golden retriever spooned by Thor’s panda, Bruce’s owl perched on top of Clint with his head tucked under his wing. He can’t spot Natasha’s chameleon but he can smell her so he knows she’s there somewhere. He and Steve are sitting apart from the rest of the team, studiously ignoring them. It had surprised him when Steve hadn’t gotten down there to join them—tabbies tend to be more social than other cats—and instead chosen to curl up next to him on the couch in his partial shift, but to his shock, he isn’t complaining about it.

Idly, Steve twines his tail around Tony’s twitching one and purrs, relaxing him until he’s a puddle on the couch. “Nat said it was a good way to get your attention.”

“What, picking a fight with me?”

“Tony.” Steve gives him a long look and then leans over to lick his ear. It should make Tony stiffen, run away, groom over that one spot until he no longer smells of Steve anymore. It doesn’t. It just makes his ear flick curiously. “I never wanted to fight with you.”

Oh.

Oh.

Suddenly, Tony’s brain is sifting through every interaction he and Steve have ever had, looking at them in a new light. Okay, and yeah, now that he’s thinking about it, he can see that this has all been Steve’s clumsy, well-intended attempt at courting him. And maybe he’s never really thought about Steve like that before but he’s thinking now and what he’s thinking is that when Steve isn’t stealing his things and laying in his favorite sunbeam, he actually really likes Steve.

“You’re not very good at this,” he informs Steve.

“Yeah, I’m getting that impression.”

“Natasha gave you bad advice.”

“I’m pretty sure she did it on purpose to stir up trouble.”

“She’s worse than either of us,” Tony agrees. “Now, hold still.”

“Wha—” He leans over Steve and licks at his ear, carefully grooming him. Steve purrs beneath him, eyes half-closed with pleasure. Tony’s own eyes drift shut as his heart beats a rhythm to the tune of mine, mine, mine.

~

“Hey, babe,” Tony says, coming up behind Steve. He drapes himself across Steve’s shoulders like the affectionate cat he is, giving a very sharp grin to the young socialite who has been holding onto Steve’s hand for the last minute. Doesn’t she know that that’s Tony’s? “I was wondering where you got off to.”

“Hey, sweetheart,” Steve replies, relaxing now that Tony is here. “Got stopped by Miss—I’m sorry, I’ve forgotten your name.”

Tony knows Steve well enough to know that that’s absolutely not the case. He’s just saying it to irritate her. But she doesn’t know that, especially because none of them are allowed to be in partial shift for tonight’s gala—Fury’s orders—and Steve’s shifter form is a closely guarded secret. So she doesn’t know that Steve’s just following his instincts as a cat. Tony does though, and he smothers his laugh in Steve’s shoulder.

“Whithers,” the girl says, irritation bleeding into her tone.

“Pleasure,” Tony says, making no attempt to hide the fact that he thinks it’s the opposite. He twines himself around Steve so that he can reach his lips for a quick kiss. “If you don’t mind, I have to borrow Steve here. Although, I really don’t care even if you do mind. See, he’s mine and I don’t really like it when people touch what’s mine.”

And then, before her face can do much more than register shock, he bats her champagne glass out of her hand.

[shirophantomvox]

Illumi Analysis | Hisoka Analysis | Killua Analysis

What’s up, everybody! I am back yet again with another Hunter x Hunter post. You all really like my Hisoka and Illumi character analysis and thoughts. I figured why not analyze Chrollo as well? Apparently, Chrollo, Hisoka, and Illumi are considered the Adult Trio on here so that is why I used the tag. I understand that this is a Voltron blog but I changed it into a multi because I have a love for other shows that deserve to be talked about. I post these character analyses because they will help me define and develop characters of my own and I love talking about them. Where are they from? What do they do in their spare time? And so on. Read the entire post for links and references!

Let’s get into the post!

I’ve stated in my "Hunter x Hunter Thoughts #2" post that Chrollo caught my attention immediately in the Yorknew City Arc. It was a combination of his large eyes, his calm, smooth voice, the tattoo on his forehead, and his hairstyle. I’ve noticed that my heart flutters a little when these characters speak (don't make it weird. You know what I mean) because their voices are smooth and calm. I think this tactic often used to get the viewers to “love” the villain regardless of any wrongdoings they do in the show. I noticed numerous things about him that made me wonder why he dresses the way he does, why is he so calm and dark, and why does he lurk in the shadows?

I have to be honest. One thing that often annoys me about several anime/manga(s) is they introduce SEVERAL characters at once, push some characters off to the very end, and do not give proper backstories for villains, especially. I don’t side with villains but a backstory should be a necessity. The only main antagonist that has a proper backstory is Illumi because we know that he was raised by crazy assassins. Hisoka doesn't have a backstory except for a one-shot that isn’t canon and neither does Chrollo.

I’ve only seen 2 flashbacks regarding Chrollo and his past. He was born in Meteor City which was a town full of trash; no houses, plants, or schools. It is implied that he only survived from stealing from others. His current members are people he met in his hometown. Chrollo often states that he is the head of the group and if he dies, he trusts that they’ll make a great decision on who the new leader will be. In the present, Gon asks him how he could kill people he didn’t know. The silence and rhythmic thunder-claps imply that he doesn’t know why.

Is it something he does...impulsively? Throughout this arc, it seems that Chrollo is having somewhat of an identity crisis. He has stated several times about trying to figure out “who he is”. By that, Chrollo must not like to steal and destroy but to him, that is what he needs to do to survive.

This raises the question of: “If he has stolen for all these years, why is he still living in a destroyed church?”

He’s been a bandit for years. I’m sure he’s on the radar somewhere. He can’t walk around with the troupe members in broad daylight because someone will recognize them. Maybe this is why they only travel in the dark. Machi was brave for walking from Heaven’s Arena in the dark.

He can’t buy a house. What name, card info, or co-leaders would sign the lease? He’s a bandit, remember. His face is somewhere waiting to be caught.

He has accepted this state of living. I thought that since he lived in a trash town that he would want to live in a luxurious place if he could, but no. He lives in a destroyed church, in darkness, and only speaks to his members.

When Chrollo stole the girl’s ability to tell the future, he took it for two reasons. A) because he needed it to see what would happen to Uvo in the new world and B) because the girl’s father used her ability for money and didn’t care for her.

The only reason why I feel an ounce of sympathy for him and not Illumi is it seems like Chrollo raised himself. He took it upon himself to steal and whatnot so he could eat. Chrollo came from nothing while Illumi had a mansion, butlers, protection, and anything he wanted. FYI, just because you have a luxurious lifestyle doesn’t mean you’re happy but in this case, Illumi had shelter while Chrollo didn’t.

Face

Chrollo’s face is what I aspire to create for my own OC’s but manage to fail every time. His face matches his body. If it weren’t for his tattoo and his main hairstyle, I wouldn’t have thought he was a threat to anyone. His face is well-rounded and reminds me of a young adult. His skin is pale and often covered in shadows because he is always in a room that is only lit by a candle. His ears are rather large for his head, but they match ok. Although, I wish his tattoo was removed. To me, that ruins his character design. He already has an inverted cross on his coat and is implied by the destroyed church he lives in. The tattoo just reminds me of a cult for some reason and that is why he gave me unsettling feelings at first.

Eyes

Chrollo’s large eyes are another feature that had me aghast. Some people love big eyes, but his grey pupils capture you almost like you're hypnotized to do anything he wants. They’re a pretty shade of grey, though.

Hair

I am going to say this loud and proud: CHROLLO LOOKS MUCH BETTER WITH HIS HAIR DOWN! Yes, to me he looks much respectable, mature, and serious with it down. His hair is jet black and is shiny like Illumi’s. I could only imagine if I had the chance to touch his hair, the dye would come off on my hands. The down look? The best way to go!

Clothes

His clothes are very stylish. The coat he wears would be PERFECT for the winter seasons! If I ever cosplay, I’m wearing that coat while it's snowing. In the first scene, he was seen wearing a black shirt with white lines going in numerous directions. After that, the creators decided to let his rippling chest show for the rest of the arc. Damn, rippling chests have been a popular decision and NO ONE is complaining! His black pants remind me of skinny jeans and even if they are, he’s lucky because I CANNOT wear skinny jeans. Once I wore them, bent over, and ripped them! I said to myself, “WTF? I paid $35 for these!”

Shoes

He wears black boots that reach up to his leg. He isn’t as stylish as Illumi and Hisoka, but that’ll do. His clothing is much simpler for anyone to cosplay.

Voice

As stated above, Chrollo has a soft, calm voice. He is the only villain I’ve seen that maintains composure during tough situations. I don't know if this was planned or not, but the main antagonists have calm soothing voices. When Chrollo went out with the fortune teller, I forgot he only did that for his selfish gain. I thought he generally enjoyed the date.

In conclusion, I wish Chrollo had a backstory like many characters in this manga. I think Hisoka and Chrollo’s backstory would be the most interesting to me. When these twisted characters appear before us, you want to know why they became this way. Having an empty villain isn’t good and is quite annoying.

Thank you for reading this post! If you’d like me to analyze any characters from Voltron or Hunter x Hunter, send me an ask!

[ener-chi]

I went to the astral plane today.

I haven’t gone in a hot minute; I just haven’t had the energy to do so, and I felt blocked for some reason. I got the feeling that the Universe was guiding me towards other things, and so I let it, and it ended up being wonderful.

But lately, I’ve been feeling restless, and just... kind of pent up. My energy has felt weird... I felt like something was building. Like something was going to happen. But I didn’t know what.

I began to get like glimpses of the astral... a place that I had never been, but that I felt I needed to visit. I ended up visiting, here are my notes:

I go into the astral...

Immediately I step out into this crazy place...

It's like the salt flats... except it's the universe...

Multitudes of stars and galaxies all around me... reflected on the ground... glorious, spectacular stars and galaxies and nebulas just circling me everywhere... the cosmos...

I take a step... and as my foot comes down... it creates a ripple...

That spreads throughout the universe...

Something... someone... brought me here... and wants me to stay...

It appears feminine in form... or at least energy...

I step into this place... looking around... delicate ripples form as I step...

It feels... very emotionally charged here... so still... yet so powerful...

I see... someone is sitting ahead of me... with their back turned to me... a figure... I can't really make out any details... but I get the feeling that I should join them...

I walk towards them... making ripples throughout the universe as I do...

I approach them... I stand at their side...

They're sitting down, hugging their knees... looking at what is in front of them...

A light... I see myself... the light shines on me... illuminating me as I take it in...

A light... very dense.... so very dense... and so luminescent, more than I've ever seen... It's... glorious... beyond description...

But what is it for?? Why am I here...

“Look...”

She says, gesturing into the light...

I look closer... looking into it...

I begin to see a scene... someone saying goodbye, and leaving... like they are in a hallway... they walk away and out of the scene... it changes... viewing another scene... another snippet... of two people talking at the checkout of some small store or shop... polite, kind conversation...

It changes again... and again... and again...

What is this??

“Don't you see??”

No...

I see her... she's got this incredible white hair... that is almost light... her body is bare, radiant, and beautiful... pure... her energy is pure...

She stands and walks up to me... Looking at me intently...

“This... all of this... gesturing to the cosmos around us... Is you... It's you...”

“You don't realize it... but... you have the universe inside of you... but you've forgotten... you only need to remember...”

What about that light... the scenes... what does it mean??

She smiles... giving me a coy, almost devious look.

Is... this a place for past lives??

“It can be, but this is not the purpose.”

Then what is the purpose??

“The purpose... is to show you”

At this point I am pulled away to some business irl, but I tell her that I’ll come back.

I enter back into this place... my feet again making ripples...

I walk... towards this light again...

I don't think she is here... Nope...

I sit down in front of it...

Such a pale, soft light... but at the same time so brilliant and bright...

I look inside it...

Again another scene... a woman walks to the door and opens it, and greets a young man warmly, who comes in... it's like... 1940 or something like that... the hairstyles... the fashion... the mannerisms... definitely another era... the mood seems eager, young, nervous, romantic... they walk out of the scene together... and it ends...

I don't think I see another scene... the light just stays bright...

I feel a touch on my shoulder...

She is standing over me... smiling... hello...

“Come with me...”

Okay...

I try and follow her many different times, but I have difficulties, either connecting, or seeing, or both, so we return back to this central light.

What is the purpose of this place?? And for bringing me here?? I was interrupted last time before I could get an answer...

“This place... the light... is a place to look into yourself... and all around you... it is a place of seeing...”

Seeing... is that what this light is for??

“Yes...”

What can I see??

“You will be shown what you will be shown...”

I understand...

Can I come back to this place??

“You will...”

Okay... I'm okay with this...

Who are you??

She smiles coyly again...

“It's not the time for that right now... but more will be illuminated next time you come here...”

Okay... is there anything else then??

“Hmm... one more thing...”

She reaches up and touches her finger to my forehead... my third eye... it glows, the same light as the light in the center of this place... as it does, I feel my third eye burn strongly irl...

Woah...

She removes it...

“Now go... and be well...”

Thank you... may you be well too...

As I’ve said, I haven’t been really been active at all spiritually, so it was a big surprise to be pulled into the astral, let alone to whatever place this is. Tbh... I’m not entirely sure what it is... but I do have a feeling I might be seeing some past lives or something like that... that would be cool. I’ve only had a small experience with past lives.

Anyways, that’s it for now. I hope that everyone has a wonderful night!

Blessings!

[hatsampixie]

Dexter’s Lab Were-Dexter story.. ‘Hair Scare’!

One night, Dexter was sitting on the couch, peacefully watching one of his favorite shows, Action Hank to be exact, when this all started.

As the show's credits rolled, Dexter reached over to grab the TV remote and shut it off, fumbling for it for a while.

The TV was finally shut off, but as he was going to put the remote away, he just so happened to see something out of the corner of his eye.

The boy pulled his arm closer to him, pulling back his sleeve, he saw that a small amount of hair had grown on his arm.

That was weird.

But, now that he thought about it.. he was beginning to feel a bit strange.

He got off from the couch and ran into the bathroom, shutting the door.

Dexter looked into the mirror, with the help of a stool to give him a boost, and saw that his ginger hair had grown a bit longer.

His eyes widened with horror.

"Oh no.. This isn't good, this isn't good!" he exclaimed.

At that moment, knocking was heard.

"What isn't good?" A voice asked, he recognized it immediately.

it was Dexter's sister, Dee Dee.

"Nothing!" The boy responded with a grumpy tone.

"Just leave me alone!"

"Aw c'mon, I'm sure it isn't so bad!"

I guess he had no choice, he had to leave the bathroom at some point.

But once the bathroom door opened, and Dee Dee saw her brother, she flinched.

"..That's quite a new hairstyle you got there."

Dexter, meanwhile, had a panicked look in his eye, and his hair had become more ruffled.

"Dee Dee.. I think there's something seriously wrong here."

"Well, Dexter.. I've got a theory, but.. it's one that's supernatural." Dee Dee said,

The ginger haired boy scoffed and rolled his eyes, supernatural? he thought that there was no such thing.

"Ha! Supernatural? That is ridiculous!"

Dee Dee sighed, "Just for the sake of argument, show me your teeth."

Without a word, Dexter opened his mouth wide, to reveal that his canines had grown longer and sharper than before, the sight of this made his sister flinch once again.

"C-Close your mouth, close your mouth!"

-

"Okay, fine.. Dee Dee, what's your explanation?" Dexter muttered, him and Dee Dee were now on the couch in the living room.

"Dexter, I don't want you to panic, but I think there's a chance that your a Tween Wolf!"

The look on the boy's face clearly said that he still didn't believe her.

"Still, there has to be another logical explanation.. Look, I'm trying to keep an open mind, but why do you think I'm a lycanthrope?" He asked,

"Well, there's a chance that your a skinwalker, seeing the chances of you getting bit by a dog is.. pretty high." Dee Dee snickered a bit.

Dexter's eyes narrowed, muttering something under his breath.

Since when did Dee Dee become the smart one?

"I'm pretty sure that those are also made up, but it is a full moon tonight." Dexter muttered.

"Yeah.. What else explains your hair getting longer?"

Dexter gestured to the hair that had grown on his left arm, almost as if to say 'Don't forget about THIS.'

"That's weird..  Which reminds me, we're also getting pretty close to a blood moon this week."

Suddenly, an expression of panic seeped into Dexter's gaze.

"Wait, w-what's going to happen to me if it's a blood moon, Dee Dee? What's going to happen?" He raised his voice a little, fear garnishing his tone.

"You don't even wanna know." Dee Dee said, she thought back to one movie she saw, remembering a part where one of the characters transformed into a monstrous form, head of a wolf, rippling muscles, sharp claws and teeth.

All of that during a blood moon in the story.

"But aside from that, we don't have to wait for a full moon, there's one in the sky right now!"

Dee Dee got up from the couch and walked over to a window, pulling back the curtains, letting the moonlight seep into the room, casting blue rays into the darkness.

"Dee Dee, what are you trying to prove here?"

"Hey, Dexter, do you notice any reacti-" Dee Dee froze the moment she turned and saw her brother, a slight gasp escaping her lips.

The ginger haired boy raised an eyebrow, oblivious to what had happened to him.

Dee Dee took a deep breath, "..Dexter ..I don't wanna alarm you, but you're full-on werewolf now."

Dee Dee quickly ran into her room and brought back a makeup mirror, handing it to her brother.

Dexter took one look at his own reflection, and let out a high pitched scream.

His long ginger hair had now grown around his cheeks, his ears had turned elf-like and pointed, and the fingers of his gloves had torn, exposing long sharp claws.

His sleeves had torn as well, and hair had grown along his arms.

Not to mention he had also grown a long furry tail, and his eyes were now glowing a light yellow color.

"Hate to say I told you so, but.."

"Shut up." Dexter muttered, crossing his arms.

-

"Can you howl or something?" Dee Dee asked her brother a few moments later.

Dexter growled softly, baring his fangs. "Dee Dee, this is no time to ask silly questions, we need to focus on the situation at hand right no-oooOOOOOOOWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!!" Dexter's eyes widened, and he quickly covered his mouth after a loud howl escaped him.

His sister giggled softly, then glanced at the moonlit window and back at his brother again.

She got an idea.

"Well, if the full moon transformed you.. maybe.."

She walked over to the window and closed the curtains.

"Am I normal again?" her brother's voice called out.

She saw that he was back to his human form, though with longer hair and fangs.. and a patch of hair on his arm.

"Not really, now I'm gonna pull back the curtains."

She did so, Dexter transformed into his wolf boy form again.

"Wait, what?" he stuttered, startled at how fast he turned.

Dee Dee closed the curtains, her brother turned back into human form again.

Then she opened and closed them again.

"Hey!" Dexter shouted.

She continued opening and closing the curtains about 3 times, much to her brother getting very annoyed.

"Dee Dee, stop!"

Dee Dee giggled, and opened and closed the curtains once again.

Dexter stood up on the couch, fists clenched, and teeth bared.

"Stop it with those stupid curtains!" he yelled, pupils narrowing to slits in his rage.

Finally, she stopped and sat down next to her brother on the couch.

"I gotta get some fun out of this." The young blonde shrugged.

"I know that there's some way to fix this, all I have to do is run a couple of tests and-"

"Since when did you become a werewolf scientist? ..literally." Dee Dee snickered.

"Well, you said the Blood Moon won't be for another few days, so I've.. We've got time to figure this out."

"I'm thinking.. Oh! Maybe Biscuit can help us!" Dee Dee grinned.

Dexter raised an eyebrow, "Um.. Why Biscuit?"

"Well, he's a dog, and you're a dog now too, soo.. Maybe he'll have some advice."

Once again, he was less than amused.

"That's the dumbest idea I've ever heard, and I'm not a dog, I'm a wolf! which are scientifically both related by blood."

Dee Dee smirked; not exactly a good sign.

"Well, Dexter, if you're not a dog.. then you'll have no problem rejecting this steak."

She held up a plastic bag, containing leftovers of a steak they had for dinner last night.

Dexter's eyes grew wide as drool began dripping down his chin at the sight of it.

"Where did you get that delicious looking st- I mean, where did you get that?" It was clear that he was trying to fight back those wolfy urges.

"Any dog would love to have this juicy steak, don't ya think?"

Dexter shook his head, and growled. "I'm NOT a dog! And I don't care about that stupid steak, just.. give it to me!"

Dee Dee slowly backed away from him, slowly waving the bag back and forth, as if she was aiming to hypnotize him. "Oh you want this? Come and get it then!"

Dexter's newfound wolf instincts took over for a moment, his eyes glowing yellow, pupils narrowing to slits, as he leapt off the couch on all fours snarling.

His eyes reverted back to normal though, pupils widening as he quickly regained his composure.

"Wait a minute, why are we even talking about that food anyway?"

Dee Dee shrugged, before turning and walking out of the room. "I dunno, I just thought it would be fun. Anyway, I'm gonna go get Biscuit."

Dexter muttered and cursed unrepeatable words under his breath, getting back on the couch again, arms crossed.

He was not having a good night.

-

"Oh, Dee Dee, if only you were a cat.." he growled, "Because since I'm a dog as you say, you would be afraid of me." The 8 year old pondered on this thought a little more. "Actually, come to think of it.. She would probably be pretty relaxed around me."

"Wait, why am I talking to myself?"

Then, Dee Dee came back in the room, the dog Biscuit following her, her and the dog then sat down on the couch.

"Well, here he is!" she beamed.

Biscuit, however, didn't seem very happy, he turned and saw Dexter next to him, and knew he gave off unfamiliar and unfriendly vibes.

Something in his dog mind knew that there was something dreadfully wrong, and he began to shiver in his fear.

"Dee Dee, he seems really uncomfortable."

She rolled her eyes at Dexter's comment. "What are you talking about?"

"Can't you see? He's scared of me!" Biscuit fearfully looked up at Dee Dee and nodded.

After a while, Biscuit leapt in Dee Dee's arms fearfully whimpering, glancing at Dexter a few times.

Dexter gave a sigh, "I don't know what this is proving."

Dee Dee without a word let Biscuit go, who scrambled for a moment before dashing out of the room.

-

"Any other suggestions?" the boy asked with a sarcastic tone.

By now he had gotten off the couch and was now wandering upstairs to his room.

Much to his chagrin, Dee Dee was following after.

"I dunno, I think when it's a blood moon, I'll just tie you up or something." she said.

"Hello, have you learned nothing about super strength? I'd break out of there easily!"

Dee Dee paused for a moment to think up another plan, by now Dexter and Dee Dee were in an elevator going down into the lab.

"Well, how's that different than any other night? You're either asleep or working in your lab."

"Dee Dee, you and I both know I can't stay in there all weekend, our parents would get suspicious."

"Good point.. Good point.."

Dexter was now at a work table, mixing several chemicals and mixtures together, attempting to figure out a cure to his.. hairy situation.

"Oh, by the way, I forgot to tell you; one of my friends' birthday is this week, and it would be prett-y embarrassing if you were still a wolf boy by then."

"I KNOW, That's why I have to make a cure!" Dexter raised his voice, annoyed.

Dexter noticed on the workbench that there was an experiment report on the table.

Taking a closer look, he saw that one of the lines read: '3:20 P.M Saturday, Hair growth formula + Moon rock material experiment.' He paused upon finishing reading it.

As soon as the memory of the incident came flooding back to him, he gave an annoyed yell and facepalmed, how could he forget?!

He was busy trying to finish two experiments at once, one looking at the molecular structure of a sample of moon rock, (which was very difficult to obtain) and working on a new hair growth formula, of which he had mix in a bit of animal DNA to get the formula to work a little quicker.

However, Dee Dee was once again fooling around with his inventions, as you would expect, and then she popped up right next to him, yelling "HI!!" at the top of her lungs.

Her sudden appearance caused Dexter to accidently knock over the sample of moon rock material, right into the vial of the hair growth formula, and in doing so, splashed it all over him.

However, the built up stress of the day being had caused him to forget all about the event a few days later, and it was only a matter of time until the failed formula took effect on him.

immediately, he started figuring out yet another formula, this time, it would be one to cure him.

And as long as Dee Dee didn't interfere, he would be just fine.

"Oh, I have an idea!"

Dexter silently turned to his sister, knowing she was the one responsible.

"I'll wave a cross in your face!" she said.

"That's for vampires, Dee Dee." He said through gritted teeth, trying to hold back his rage, knowing he's prone to scratching her if he loses it.

She continued giving him of ideas of how to cure him including stabbing him with a stake, and putting him in direct sunlight.

Dexter struggled to ignore her, and get the formula done all throughout.

As the formula was almost complete, Dexter answered to at least one of her ideas.

"Dee Dee, according to the author Stephen King, the way to stop a werewolf is with a silver bullet, but I think that might do some permanent damage."

"But, that whole machine is made out of silver!" Dee Dee said, pointing to said structure.

And that huge machine was just the thing to help cure him.

And after inputting the formula into the machine, he stepped inside it's chamber and the countdown commenced.

"Formula inserted, curing sequence begins in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1." a mechanical voice said.

A bright light shone in the chamber, and once it began to fade away, the doors to the chamber opened, and a young ginger haired boy walked out, smiling with pride.

His hair had grown shorter, and the hair on his arm was gone.

"Dexter, it worked, you're not a werewolf anymore!"

-

But then another bright flash of light appeared in the room, and a figure began to materialize.

The figure had short black hair, and wore a bow tie, and he also wore glasses.

Dexter recognized him immediately, it was his rival, Mandark.

"Yes! my teleporter remote works!" he said. But when he turned, he saw Dexter looking up at him, glaring, and aiming a laser gun at him.

Mandark's eyes narrowed, "Relax Dorkster, I'm off duty tonight, I'm just testing my new invention, and apparently it works just fine."

There was a big awkward silence, Dexter slowly lowered the laser gun.

"So.. uh.. Has anything happened?"

"Dexter turned into a werewolf, but I think he's got it all under control now." Dee Dee spoke up.

"Yes.. I've created a machine and a cure to completely erase the symptoms from my DNA.. after someone screwed up." Dexter glared at Dee Dee, who nonchalantly started whistling.

"That's interesting, but if you've had any such luck as I have in the past.. Sometimes you can treat the symptoms, but you can't cure the virus." Mandark said.

"W-What do you mean?" Dexter asked.

"But in my opinion, it's not really something to be afraid of, you can actually kind of embrace it."

"Embrace it?" Both Dexter and Dee Dee asked at the same time.

"Yes, yes you can.." An eerie tone entered Mandark's voice.

And before their eyes, he transformed.

Mandark's hair grew longer and grew around his cheeks, his ears grew longer and pointy.

He grew long sharp teeth and claws, and a long furry wolf tail.

His shirt, shorts, and shoes were slightly torn apart due to his height increasing, and his eyes began glowing yellow as his pupils narrowed to slits.

An evil fanged grin crossed his face, seeing their shock and horror.

Then Were-Dark threw his head back and unleashed a loud blood-curdling howl.

Dee Dee was shivering in fear, Dexter simply facepalmed; they now had another problem on their hands.

"Oh no.." he groaned.

The End.

[rosesnvines]

Hidden World

(For the Jumanji prompt. Sorry it’s short, but I didn’t want another novella on my hands, lol. I already have one, well, technically three, that I’m trying to write and I have to limit myself. I might return to this at a later point, when I’m not trying to juggle two hugs fanfics and an original. Also, I know there isn’t that much Mericcup in here, but it really was trying to become another novella, lol.) 

“Why are we here again?” asked Chrysta Lejune, better known as CC to her friends. She and three other teens, Zak Storm, Hiccup Haddock, and Merida Dunbroch, were standing in Zak’s basement. She had asked his father the question. 

Mr. Storm chuckled. “This is your assignment. Your teacher wasn’t specific on what you needed to do, so, I’m deciding that you’ll get to clean out out our basement.” CC, Hiccup, and Merida glanced around the basement. It really wasn’t that bad. 

“But what are we supposed to do?” asked Hiccup. “Part of the assignment was to clean up. There’s practically nothing here to clean!” 

“You’re going to complain about that?” asked Merida. 

“Well no, not really,” said Hiccup slowly. “But this is going to our grade, and I want a good grade.” 

Mr. Storm chuckled again. “Don’t worry Hiccup, you’ll get a great grade. Provided you do as I ask you.” He pointed at Zak. “That mean you too, young man.” 

Zak grinned sheepishly. “Right, Dad.” He leaned towards Hiccup and whispered, “Besides, it will give you and Merida a chance to get to spend some time together.” 

Hiccup began to blush. “Shh!” 

“Now here’s what I want you to do.” Mr. Storm began giving them instructions. First off, they were going to sort by items, i.e. clothes, papers, wooden items, if any, etc. Then they would sort by trash, recycling, to sell, and keeping. Zak knew the majority of what would go where, but if he wasn’t sure, then he would ask his dad to take a look, provided Mr. Storm wasn’t helping out a customer. When Mr. Storm was satisfied that they knew the instructions well enough, he left them to open the store. The four fell into a pretty rhythmatic sorting, pulling things off shelves and sorting them into different categories. Things were mostly quiet, that is, the four really didn’t speak much to each other, until Hiccup gave a shout. The other three ran to his side. 

“What is it?” asked Merida. 

“What’s wrong?” asked CC. 

“Uh, what in the world is that doing here?” asked Zak, pointing at the thing Hiccup was holding. 

“Well, that’s why I yelled,” said Hiccup. “Part of the reason, anyway. This thing gave me an electric shock!” 

“Huh,” said Zak, taking the thing from Hiccup. “Does that mean it runs on electricity?” 

“Wait, you’ve never seen this before?” asked CC. 

Zak shook his head as he turned over the thing. “No, but I think it looks like a PS game of some sort. Might explain why it shocked Hiccup.” He walked over to a TV and plugged it in. The screen flickered to life, and the symbol of a dragon appeared, followed by the word “begin”. “Huh, it is a game.” 

“Wait, there’s a game in your house that you don’t know about?” asked CC incredulously. 

Zak shot her a look. “Obviously.” He looked back at the screen. “I wonder why my dad didn’t tell me about it.” 

“Unless he forgot about it,” suggested Hiccup. 

Zak shrugged. “It’s possible. Well, let’s play.” 

“What?” blurted Hiccup and CC. 

Zak pointed at the room. “We’re about halfway done. I think we can pause for a break, don’t you think? Besides, it’s not like we have to spend all day cleaning.” 

“He has a point,” said Merida with a shrug. “But, how do we play?” 

“Hang on,” said Zak. He rummaged around in the electronics section and found four controllers. Merida helped him plug them in. Zak pushed a button, and the screen changed to to having four icons in the corners of the screen and several sentences in the middle. “Huh,” said Zak, getting closer to read the print. “‘Dragons are being hunted left and right in an attempt to rid the world of them. But you know of an old seafaring tale, that of a place so secret that no one but dragons can get to. Find this Hidden World and save the dragons.’” He pointed at each of the icons. “There are four characters, a Scottish princess, an Atlantean princess, a pirate captain, and a Viking chief.” 

“OK, that kinda sounds interesting,” said Hiccup as he picked up a controller. 

“I’m curious too,” said CC. “Atlantis could be the Hidden World.” 

“It might not be,” said Hiccup, “otherwise the game would have said so.” 

“Well, I’m going to be the pirate captain,” said Zak as he quickly made his selection. 

“Calling the Atlantean princess!” CC shouted and clicked on the icon. 

Merida groaned. “I guess I’ll be the Scottish princess then.” 

Hiccup sighed. “And that leaves me with the big, burly Viking chief.” 

“Hey, you’ll be big for once in your life, huh?” 

Hiccup eyed Zak. “If you weren’t one of my closest friends, I would pummel you.” 

Zak grinned mischievously. “You mean you’d try?” 

“Well, if he’s a buff, burly Viking Chief, he can,” said Merida with a grin. 

Zak glanced at the screen. “Yeah, it would also help if you selected your character.” 

Hiccup looked a the screen, blinking. “Oh, I thought I clicked it already.” 

Zak scoffed and pointed at it. “Well, it’s saying you didn’t, so go ahead and click it . . . please.” 

Hiccup rolled his eyes. “Oh, alright, since you  asked so nicely . . . sorta.” Zak grinned as Hiccup pushed the button to select the Viking chief. 

“Alright!” There was a pause as they waited on the screen to change, but nothing happened. 

“Uh, is it broken?” asked CC as she glanced at Zak. 

Zak pushed all the buttons on his controller and pounded it before letting out a grunt. “Oh come on! Ugh! It must be frozen. At least we didn’t start the game yet.” 

“Um, maybe it’s not meant for the TV?” asked Hiccup as Zak put down his controller and walked to the TV. 

“But it has the right cords for it! Well, we can try it again, and if it freezes again, then we’ll try the computer.” Zak tapped the TV screen. The screen seemed to ripple. Zak took a startled step back. 

“Uh, Zak, what’s going on?” asked CC. 

“I, I don’t know . . . maybe we should . . . ah!” The ripple began to swirl and seemed to turn into a whirlpool. “Run!” But before anyone could take another step, the whirlpool widened and engulfed them all. 

The next thing Hiccup remembered was that he was falling. He had barely let out a scream when he hit the ground. He rolled a few feet before picking himself up and dusting himself off. He paused when he noticed the change in his attire. “What the?” Instead of jeans and flannel, he was wearing black leather with red draconian symbols decorating his suit. He jumped when he heard a scream and a body falling to the ground near him. He rushed over to the person, and found it was Merida, dressed in a Scottish dress with a bow and quiver strapped to her back. “Merida? Are you alright?” 

“I thought that fall would have hurt more,” she said as she stood up. 

“I’ll take that to mean that you’re fine.” 

Merida rolled her eyes. “Yes Hiccup, I’m fine, thank you for asking.” Two more yells came from their right and two more people fell to the ground. 

“Zak, CC?” 

“Who else?” muttered CC as she got up. She too was wearing a dress, sort of, her skirt was more of a skort with fishnet leggings . She also had fishnet leggings, matching gloves, a purple and yellow starfish on her bodice, anda golden coronet sitting on top of her head. Zak was wearing the typical pirate outfit, complete with an eye patch that had been pushed up so he could use both eyes. The two let out shrieks when they saw Hiccup and Merida, then each other, and finally at themselves. 

“Hey! Where are my clothes?” blurted Zak. 

“What is up with my hair?” blurted CC as she felt the pink ringlets. 

Zak pulled a sword from his back. “Well, at least I hava cool sword.” 

“Glad you think so, matey.” Zak dropped the sword as everyone screamed and dashed behind a couple of trees. “Ouch!” 

“It it it it . . . it can talk!” 

“It is Calabrass, and I’m supposed to help you find the Hidden World!” A roar echoed in the forest. 

“Uh, what was that?” asked Hiccup. 

“Oh, right, Toothless is supposed to help you too. He’s the last of the Nightfuries and the alpha dragon.” 

CC threw up her hands. “Great! We got sucked into a video game where we get new clothes, and new hairstyles, plus we have a talking sword and dragons?” 

“Well, this is a game about saving the dragons, so . . .” Zak shot her a sheepish grin and shrugged. 

“But how do we get out of here?” asked Merida. 

“In order to finish the game, you have to defeat Skullivar and Grimmel, and get Toothless and his mate to the Hidden World safe and sound. Without getting yourselves killed, of course.” 

Hiccup threw up his hands. “Go figure.” 

Merida raised her hand. “But, if we die here, do we die . . . for good?” The group glanced at each other in alarm. 

“That, Mer, that . . . we really shouldn’t have started playing this game!” 

“You’re telling me!” 

CC glared at Zak. “Telling you? You’re the one who wanted to play it!” 

Zak let out an exasperated breath. “How was I supposed to know we would get sucked into the game?” 

Guys!” Everyone glanced at Hiccup. “Listen, we’re here now, we’re going to have to work together and finish playing the game to get out of here!” 

“That’s the spirit!” said Calabrass enthusiastically. “I like that kid, Toothless.” The group turned, startled. There, sitting on either side of Calabrass were two dragons, one white, the other black. 

“Aw!” said Merida as she dashed forward and began petting the black one. “You’re so cute!” The black dragon began panting like a dog. Hiccup started smiling softly. 

“Oh, so you like her, huh, Toothless? I think you;’re not the only one.” 

Zak walked up to the sword and picked it up. “What do you mean by that?” he asked with a soft chuckle. 

“What? Don’t you know? Your . . . mmph!” 

“Shh, I know!” whispered Zak. “It was a rhetorical question!” He removed his hand from the skeleton’s mouth. 

“I see. Well then, we should get going! You don’t have much information on where the location of this Hidden World, and who knows when Skullivar and Grimmel could catch up to us. Let’s go!” 

“Why would we believe you anyway? You’re a talking pirate sword!” said CC. 

“I’m your only hope against Skullivar and Grimmel. Plus I can help you navigate the waters of the Bermuda Triangle.” 

“The Bermuda Triangle?” 

“Wait, did you just say the Bermuda Triangle?” asked CC incredulously. 

“No, I said the Bermuda Square. Of course I said the Bermuda triangle! It’s one of the speculative theories that’s where the Hidden World is located.” 

Zak groaned. “Oh great, we’re heading to one of the most deadly spots in the entire ocean!” 

“But you’ll have me, and the dragons!” said Calabrass enthusiastically. “We’ll be able to help you through it!” 

Hiccup sighed. “Well, we’d better get going and get this over with so we can get back home.” 

“You got it! I’m really liking this kid.” 

Zak groaned. “Really? I’m the pirate captain!” 

“Doesn’t mean I have to like you. But you could grow on me. We’ll see.” 

Zak groaned again, but the group got on the dragons and flew off, eager to just finish the game and find out exactly why this was happening to them.

[princess-of-luxure]

Two of a Kind

Ever since the destruction of Mallet Island ten years ago, you've been trapped in the Underworld with only the cruel words of your master and creator, Mundus, for company. With every day that passes, he tries to turn you against your best friend, Trish, by making you resent her for escaping his clutches while you didn't. What he doesn't know is that you have a secret. And that secret is about to be brought to light. Fandom: Devil May Cry Rating: Teen and Up Audiences Relationships: Trish (Devil May Cry)/Reader Characters: Trish (Devil May Cry), Dante (Devil May Cry), Vergil (Devil May Cry) Content Warnings: Delirium-induced Self-Harm 

Written for day three of whumptober, prompt was 'Delirium!' I had fun with this even if it took me about five hours to write because I kept getting distracted. It's a lot easier to write for Trish than V, I've found, perhaps because I'm more used to writing her, though she kept wanting to drag the confession scene into a... different direction. 

Fic under read more.

“She abandoned you.”

Ten years of being trapped in the darkest depths of the Underworld with only the voice of your cruel master ringing in your head would ruin anyone’s psyche, and you were no exception.

“Don’t you hate her?”

“Shutupshutupshutup,” you whispered frantically as you backed up against the wall, collapsing to your knees as you grabbed fistfuls of your hair and tugged. The intense pain only distracted you for a moment before you heard that hated, sneering voice again, echoing around in your head and leaving no escape.

“You weren’t good enough for her and the son of Sparda to save. You. Belong. To. Me.”

You screamed, nails clawing at your skin in a desperate attempt to get Mundus out. Through a delirious haze, you saw red well up to the broken surface, though the gouges sewed themselves up moments later. A perk in most circumstances; right now, it only served as a con.

Disembodied, mocking laughter echoed all around and you swore you were going to go insane soon. “What a pathetic little thing you are. You—”

“GET OUT!” Your sudden shout was enough to shut him up for the moment, winning you a few blissful seconds of silence as you cradled your head. “I HATE YOU!”

Of course, a few seconds didn’t last long. “You claim to hate me, and yet you cannot hope to survive without me, useless wretch.”

Before you could retort or fight back, there was a crash and one of the walls of your prison caved in. Mundus’s presence vanished from your mind as you scrambled to your feet, more wound up than a spooked and injured animal. In some ways, that was an apt descriptor of your current state.

As the dust settled, you could make out a couple figures. A pair of men in their late thirties, it seemed, similar in appearance if not for their hairstyles (one wore his hair down, the other had it slicked back) and opposing color schemes, red and blue respectively. Both, however, wielded wickedly sharp swords and emanated a powerful demonic aura; both were threats.

With a screech, you lunged for the one in blue, your elemental power flickering at your fingertips. With one deft motion, he unsheathed his blade and sent you flying into the opposite wall, without so much as a scratch to show for it.

“Woah there, not one for conversation, huh?” You scrambled to your feet as the red one approached with a laidback grin, baring your teeth. “Just getting straight to the point? Fine by me.”

Without warning, he struck, leaving you with barely enough time to throw up a shield of elemental energy. Your attacker skidded to a stop just inches away from the barrier, and the ripple it caused briefly pushed the hair from his eyes just long enough for you to recognize—the son of Sparda! Dante!

“You!” Confusion flickered across Dante’s features as you sprang at him with a furious howl, taking advantage of his shock to tackle him to the ground. Your fingers warped into claws as you struck him again and again, anger and hatred mingling with the demonic power that coursed through your body as you willed the legendary devil hunter to just die for what he did to you!

So swept up in your need for vengeance, you had completely forgotten about the other. This proved to be a grave mistake as suddenly you felt a white hot pain through your chest, stilling your hands. With a choked gasp, you cast your gaze downwards, finding the blue-clad demon’s katana had impaled you straight through.

“Do you know this devil, Dante?” he asked as he withdrew his blade in one clean motion. You gasped as the metal was removed from your chest, keeling onto your side; though a simple impalement was far from enough to kill you, you had been weakened since before the pair had stepped foot in your prison.

“Maybe?” Dante got to his feet, peering at you curiously, then his eyes widened. “It’s Trish’s friend.”

“Trish’s friend?” You couldn’t decide if the other’s tone was disbelief or surprise. It didn’t really matter, as the tip of his katana came to rest against your throat. An obvious warning. “I wasn’t aware she had any, outside of the group, of course.”

“From Mallet Island,” Dante elaborated. “Dunno their history, but Trish would kill us if we killed ‘em.”

Trish… The meaning of his words took a moment to settle in. Trish still cared about you? Even after all these years, she remembered you? You tried to voice these questions, but all you could manage was a strangled croak.

“Shhh, don’t try to speak,” Dante hushed you, bending down onto one knee beside you. “I mean, God knows how long you’ve been down here. Ten years, was it?”

You were silent. Dante shook his head after a moment, chuckling. “S’pose I should’ve expected that.” He rose to his feet again. “Well, doesn’t seem like they wanna murder us anymore, so you can probably take that katana of yours away from their neck.”

“As you wish.” Dante’s companion didn’t sound exactly thrilled, but he did as requested. Dante himself bent down to unceremoniously sling you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

Ten years worth of exhaustion settled on you all at once, and you found you could only grunt in indignation at your treatment. Dante laughed. “What, you expecting a bridal carry? Sorry, no can do, but maybe—”

You passed out before you could hear the rest of his sentence.

~*~*~*~*~* ~*~*~*~*~* ~*~*~*~*~* ~*~*~*~*~* ~*~*~*~*~* ~*~*~*~*~* ~*~ ~*~*~ 

When you awoke, it was to a sensation you had never felt before. A strange softness cushioned your body, and you blinked open your eyes. Clear, pure sunlight streamed through the window of the… room you were in. Room. You weren’t in the Underworld anymore. What had happened between you passing out and arriving here, wherever here was?

Your eyes landed on the figure lounging in the armchair across the room, idly flipping through a magazine. Blonde hair spilled across her shoulders, one leg tossed over the other. Black corset, pants, boots and choker… she’d changed over the years, but there was no mistaking the figure in front of you. Not long ago, the sight of her would’ve made your blood boil, but as your recent memories came flooding back, you quickly came to realize she wasn’t your enemy.

“Trish,” you rasped, and she looked up. She smirked as she saw you awake, tossing aside her magazine and standing to stretch, before striding over to your bedside.

“Look who’s finally awake,” she teased, hands playfully on her hips, before she bit her lip. “It’s been a long time.” She murmured your name, and you couldn’t help but sigh. It had been so many years since you’d heard her say it, and even now, there was something about the way she uttered it that caused a pleasant tingling in your fingertips.

You found you had no words at you stared at the beauty before you. You’d thought she was stunningly gorgeous since the moment you met her, and time had hardly changed that. Her hair was fluffier than it used to be, her corset’s design had changed, she’d added a tiny lightning bolt to her choker, and dark sunglasses no longer obscured brilliant blue eyes, but other than that, she was still Trish. If anything, the changes only made her all the more radiant.

Trish clicked her tongue, dragging you out of your thoughts. “There’s plenty of time to stare at me once I know you’re in good health,” she teased, and you felt the heat rise to your cheeks.

You let her fuss over you for a while, thoughts drifting as careful touches skirted across your skin. Being a demon, it was no surprise you turned out to be already completely healed, and when it seemed like Trish was satisfied, you ventured to ask, “Trish, where are we?”

“Devil May Cry,” Trish answered, sitting down on the edge of the bed and combing her fingers through her perfect locks. “It’s the devil hunting agency run by my partner. You remember Dante, judging by how he said you reacted when you recognize him.”

“Partner?” Your eyes flew open. Had the son of Sparda really snatched up your best friend before you’d even had a chance to fully process your own feelings for her?

Before you could dwell on this thought for more than a few seconds, however, Trish threw her head back and laughed, a clear, melodious sound that set your heart aflutter. Very few things in this world were better than Trish’s laugh. “Don’t worry,” she said, and her lips were forming your name again. “Business partners. We aren’t romantically involved.”

You couldn’t help but sigh in relief, the tension draining from your body as you relaxed back into the pillows. Trish smirked at you. Damn her; there was no wonder as to why so many in the Underworld whispered of her as ‘the bewitching devil.’ She’d certainly bewitched you. “Why, someone feeling a little jealous?” she teased, and you had a feeling she already knew the answer.

“Not at all,” you still tried to deny despite every evidence to the contrary. It only caused Trish to smirk wider, and as she ‘idly’ tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear, you knew she was preening for your benefit.

“Well, that’s good,” she commented, as though she had no idea of the effect she was having on you. Well, that was just fine. Two could play at that game. “I would hate for you to be jealous, especially considering there is somebody I quite like.”

The way she subtly licked her lips and the coy look she gave you out of the corner of her eye did not go unnoticed. She’d already won this little game, and you both knew it, but you’d be damned if you didn’t try anyway. “Oh really? And who might that be?” you asked innocently, but just as you’d predicted, this response far from frustrated Trish; in fact, you playing along only seemed to delight her.

“Oh, you know, just a little special someone,” she replied lightly, shifting so that she was kneeling on the bed. “No one you need to worry about.” She dared to stroke your cheek with a feather-light touch, and you shuddered. It was obvious that the devil before you desired nothing more than to claim your lips with her own, but she knew better than to simply take what she wanted, instead seeking permission with her eyes. You gave her a little nod.

And so Trish kissed you.

It was electricity, and if you hadn’t known better, you would’ve suspected Trish had somehow imbued it with her powers. It was fire, and it was passion, and it was ‘I missed you’ and ‘I love you’ and pure desire and a thousand other meanings all at once.

“No one to worry about, huh?” you breathed as you pulled away after what seemed like an eternity, gazing into blue eyes that seemed to glow with intensity. Trish chuckled, her breath tickling your throat.

“No one worry about at all,” she whispered, before dipping down to capture your lips once more.

~*~*~*~*~* ~*~*~*~*~* ~*~*~*~*~* ~*~*~*~*~* ~*~*~*~*~* ~*~*~*~*~* ~*~ ~*~*~

Your relationship with Trish had clicked into place easily, like it was always meant to be. She helped teach you about the human world as well, with the help of the Sparda twins—and boy had it been a surprise to learn that the one who had stabbed you was your former coworker, Vergil. Talk about friendly greetings. You had to say, you had never imagined he’d be so handsome underneath the kinda tacky armor; but Trish was far more beautiful. Hell, Trish was the sun, the moon, and a sea of sparkling stars all at once as far as you were concerned.

“So like, is it weird that you two are dating?” You paused at Dante’s inquiry, hands stilling where they were braiding Trish’s hair. The blonde devil made a slightly annoyed sound, lifting her gaze from her magazine to glance over at Dante.

“Care to elaborate, Dante?” she finally asked when it became obvious you weren’t going to continue anytime soon. Meanwhile, you were trying to figure out what the hell had even prompted that question.

Dante shrugged, not looking either of you in the eyes. “Just wondering. You were both created by Mundus. Thought it might be a bit like siblings.”

A beat of silence, then Trish was laughing harder than you’d ever seen before, quaking in your lap. Even you couldn’t hold back an amused smile. What a very Dante-like thought to have.

“What?” Dante held up his hands defensively. “It was just a question.”

“Creation isn’t the same as human birth, Dante,” you explained patiently, as your girlfriend seemed to be showing no signs of being done any time soon. “We don’t share the same blood at all.”

“Besides,” Trish added as her laughter subsided to giggles, “being siblings would require us seeing Mundus as our father. I’m sure it goes without saying that this isn’t the case.”

“Okay, fair point,” Dante conceded, before turning his attention back to his own magazine, probably to save face. You just shook your head in amusement, returning to braiding Trish’s hair. Everything was back to normal.

[maiji]

4) Favorite female character(s)?

Yu Yu Hakusho has a very strong female cast, and I love so many of them for so many different reasons. Even Togashi's most stereotypical ladies have nuances to them that make them that much more atypical, that much more multi-dimensional, that much more real, than a cookie cutter trope. In 30 days of yu yu I talked at length about Genkai. And I still agree with pretty much everything I wrote before. So I'm going to take this opportunity to talk about a really badass female character who is rarely discussed.

Yusuke’s human ancestor/Raizen's lover the kudakusushi is only really ever identified as "onna" (woman), and Raizen never reveals her name - if he ever even knew it, since he seemed so impressed and cowed by her. She only appears in one scene, a flashback, but what a presence and figure she cuts. And what an awesome (in the truest sense of the word) ripple effect her existence has made all the way through 700 years.

I really like both the idea of the character and also the execution of the character. In a number of ways she tips both the manic pixie dream girl and the Japanese yamato nadeshiko tropes on their heads. Raizen is carefree and high on doing whatever the hell he wants to do, which is basically just eating humans for fun and fighting and causing trouble, then he meets the woman of his dreams that he never could have imagined: a corpse-eating Buddhist shaman whose body is a complete wasteland of poison and disease so that she can make antidotes to save others. And she's like "Who the hell are you? You're garbage. You wanna eat me? Go ahead. You'll die and you'll still be garbage." and Raizen is like, "Whoa. Holy shit. You are totally right. I am complete garbage and a waste of existence." And is motivated into ascetic reform for the rest of his life to try to become worthy of her.

We know Raizen was completely in love. But there's little to no indication of how tied she was to him - her story completely separates from his after their one meeting, and there's a strong sense that her character is very much independent from him, which is something pretty amazingly hard to pull off considering she only appears in the narrative because of that single night he has with her. But it's made very clear that Raizen was the one who chases her, that he begs her for that one night, that they never speak of a future nor meet again. Raizen dreams of a reunion in reincarnation before he dies, but this never happens. There is absolutely no sign that on her side, she was nostalgic about him at all; the story hints at the opposite, in fact: that she may have fully severed attachments to the material world.

Also another thing that I found very compelling is that in the manga, in the Taiwanese edition in any case, Raizen describes her as (paraphrased): "A physically weak, pale, gaunt, ugly woman with the scent of a sorcerer, but I loved the look in her eyes. She was the first person to ever stare at me with such a glare of contempt." LMAO. (I don’t have the original Japanese to compare it to, but IIRC the official English manga translation is extremely watered down on Raizen’s description of her.) But that’s why the first time I ever saw her appear in the anime, where her design is a very conventional Japanese beauty, I was like, "...HUH??" (In the manga, she's not really drawn that ugly either, but it's harder to tell. Her face is usually partly obscured in shadow.) 

In summary, a very, very badass lady. I like her lots.

16) Favorite member of the Sensui 7?

Mitarai Kiyoshi! Again, I still agree with pretty much everything I said in 30 days from a story perspective, so let’s talk about his character design lol. I really like his design! I personally find it so freaking hard to come up with interesting short hairstyles for male characters, and his is a really good one of a style that I have never really seen much anywhere else. I like the colour palette the anime gave him too, lots of yellows with a splash of blue. Also his seiyuu is MATSUMOTO RICAAAAAA

His territory power is pretty cool too, although it’s a good thing he’s not anemic. His first appearance, the rainy night battle with Kuwabara, is a really fantastic one. It’s one of those fights I don’t mention very often BUT I SHOULD because it’s SO WELL-DONE. It opens with this little sequence of Kuwabara and his friends walking in the rain after having their time of their life at a concert and talking about heading out for some karaoke - when Sawamura suddenly disappears. The setup reminds me of rainy night ghost stories, and has a great mood to it. The comic panels for the entire fight have this very memorable, overriding sense of a constant background of rain and night, like a deluge, and the water effects are all rendered so well. There’s a lot of great texture and layering going on too, and the bulk and sense of volume/density of water of Mitarai’s creatures really come through. Whoops, this turned into a comics drawing ramble. BUT YES, MITARAI! I LIKE HIM! lol

20) When was the first time you ever seen this series?

I touch on this a little in 30 days of yu yu - it would've been elementary school, around when the series first came out. We followed along overseas, and my dad would pick up stuff for my sister and me whenever he happened to be travelling around Asia. My sister read me the volumes, we'd get CDs and anime artbooks and things like that. Growing up, my impression of the series was the manga first and foremost, then the Japanese seiyuu because of the image songs and audio dramas. I knew the anime and the movies primarily through screencaps from magazines and the anime compilation books, and Eizou Hakusho on VHS.

It was only in late high school or university that we picked up a bootleg copy of the entire series and I watched it end to end in Japanese for the very first time. Well, almost end to end. We had to take breaks because it was too much. As mentioned in 30 days, the English subtitles were hilariously awful, and "Rei gun" was rendered as "Magic Ball". I was busting a gut and have no idea how my sister and I made it through an episode (or maybe even several) before we gave up and switched to Chinese subtitles. I was never so grateful in my life that Yusuke only has four shots available lmao

@cjjoughin​ Thank you so much for asking!! :D!

[thelionsauvage]

This is also old! Like wow really really old. Yes there are probably so many spelling errors.

"Archades and Augustus, follow me." Harry said as he swept past them in a swirl of black and green. Rage rippled through the air, thick enough to cut with a knife as the two Lestrange brothers followed their leader not to the Slytherin Common Room but their own secret lair they had found their first year.

"Open for one who is worthy." Harry hisses at the snake door knocker before the doors swing open and reveal that the whole inner circle is there.

Kreslyn's silver-blue eyes crackle with icy energy as she paces in front of Orion who watches her in case she does anything foolish.

"Harry! Who did this?! Who would dare hurt Hermione?! Was it Weasley?!" Kreslyn snarls out as her wand snaps into her hand and a shower of sparks trails from it, "I will have his head on a spear! The whole family except for the twins because they have proved useful thanks to Hermione!" Orion rises from his position and wraps an arm around his fiancée‘s waist to try and calm her down before meeting the gaze of Archades; whose own stormy blue-gray eyes promised to get revenge on those who did his own betrothed any harm.

"Harry, he attacked one of our own. We must retaliate. He attacked Archie's woman, my brother's fiancée." Augustus softly spoke into Harry's ear as he watched his cousin try not to struggle against her lover and his best friend.

Harry clapped his hands together to quiet the room and his green eyes blazed with anger, "Dumbledore had Weasley and Weaslette attack Hermione while she was alone, why was no one with her?" He hissed at them, watching for any sign of guilt but found none only confusion.

"She...said that Goyle and Crabbe would be near by. Where were they Draco? You were supposed to give them their order to keep close to her!” Kreslyn turns on the sleek blond and pushes him against the wall with her wand and hisses in anger, "Where are they?" Watching him shake his head and shrug, Kreslyn screams and throws him across the room before following him as her blonde hair curls from the energy of her magic. "You will find my darling Hermione, Malfoy. Or so help me...I will kill you! And your mother will have to lose her firstborn child. Auntie Cissy might actually thank me for that as you are a disappointment to our family line." She puts her wand away before pulling her hand back and slaps the Malfoy heir, leaving scratch marks across his face and storms away.

Harry watches the scene unfold without a care before looking down at Malfoy, "Find them Malfoy. Find her. All of you. NOW! Find Hermione. Before someone dies by my hand." He holds his hand out for Daphne's and waits for all but his true inner circle to leave the room then turns to Kreslyn.

“Learn to watch your temper, Lyn. You don’t want to kill any of the minions just yet; not whilst we need them to be our idiots.” Harry tried to speak to his best friend and second in command as calm as possible.

Kreslyn clenches her fists as her eyes flash dangerously, "Gregory and Evan!" She barks out, making two people slip out from the shadows and kneel before her and their Lord. "I order you to kill Crabbe, find Draco and put him in the dungeons as well as anyone you find him talking to. This was under Dumbledore's orders. The Weasel, Finnegan, Thomas, Brown, and even that dumb Patil." She looks at her best friend and leader before taking a deep breath, "Harry, I truly don't believe Ronald is a true blooded Weasley. I had Dolohov do some digging for me and imagine my surprise when on the list of students from our year there was no Ronald Weasley but a Ronald Prewett."

Harry's eyes flashed at this before looking at Goyle, "You will have your prize for your loyalty to me Gregory, Ginerva will be yours; if that is still your wish. I think it is time we free Arthur from that Prewett woman, we have the loyalty of the older Weasley siblings...Arthur is a strong wizard in his own right. He shouldn't be where he is now, poor and living in that hovel." Multiple voices hiss and growl in agreement, "Bill has his own money, Charlie as well, the twins will once they are out, Ginerva through Gregory here. But...Ronald..." Harry clicks his tongue, "Molly has been stealing from Arthur and storing it in a vault for her precious little boy. But...Kreslyn how did he become a Prewett and not inherit the Weasley name?”

Kreslyn smirks and giggles as she recalls the memory of Finn telling her about the red-headed moron, "Arthur disowned him but I believe doesn't remember thanks to memory charms from Dumbledore and Molly. He got into so much trouble at school because of us, well...Silly boy should've left well enough alone when dealing with the Snakes." Laughter echoes in the chamber as they all recall the trouble that Ronald would just happen to ‘stumble into’.

Daphne lightly rubs Harry's hands as he stiffens in anger over the offense that a PureBlood of a Noble House was abused in such fashion. "Harry, with you and Kreslyn leading the charge, we shall help him. And he is still able to remarry and have a true heir. No offense to Bill but he’s unfortunately that bitch’s spawn.” Daphne said as she looked up into her fiancé’s eyes and smiles slightly, while Kreslyn was his right hand and General in his battles; Daphne is and will always be his Dark Lady.

Harry looks down into the soft blue eyes of Daphne and smiled slightly, "I say we save killing any of the Prewett line until after the marriage between Arthur and Molly is dissolved and he’s free. It’ll cause utter chaos and hopefully disrupt Dumbledore plans; that old man does love to talk about his 'Greater Good' plans." Daphne continues as the whole group rolls their eyes before Harry snaps his eyes to the still kneeling figures, "Go. Find what you can. Find our missing Princess; my sister, before Archades calls for a blood hunt on everyone."

Archades growls at this causing the two boys to shoot out the door quickly and search as their lord told them to do, failure to do so was death and Gregory didn't want to die not when his heart's desire was on the line. One named Ginerva Weasley or Prewett; didn’t matter that little bitch was his.

Augustus looks at his twin closely and steps up to him before placing his hand over his heart, "Calm yourself now. Mother would be proud but father would be disgusted that one of his sons was showing such disgrace as to act like this, you're acting like that red-headed Gryffindor swine Ronald." Augustus states while watching his brother's eyes widen before finally watching the mask of indifference fall into place and lets his hand get slapped away.

"Do not compare me to such...trash again. I am a Lestrange and that Prewett filth is nothing more than the muck under my boots." Archades says while fixing his robes and turns to Harry, "Where are we going Harry? We know where she is. The burrow it’s the only place they’d attempt at hiding her, Goyle will report back saying just that same with Montague. Dumbledore is many things, and although dumb is in his name he is not that."

Harry's eyes narrow at his friend before nodding and looks to the rest of his friends, watching as they all remove their school robes to be replaced with their battle robes. "Do you all have your masks?" Harry asks as he starts to take off his robe before taking off his tie while hearing affirmatives from all his people, "Good. Lose them tonight. I want those people to know who is after them. I want them to fear us, knowing torture and death, that pain is the only thing they will be receiving tonight. Arthur deserves to see who saves him from the horror known as Molly Prewett.” Harry smirks at this as he tugs on his robes and pulls his longish hair into a ponytail. He had gotten sick of the trademark Potter bird's nest hairstyle back when he was seven years old and had since grown his hair out to his shoulders, thankfully it was wavy and quite soft. Plus his Lady loved it.

Kreslyn tugged on her battle robes, like the rest they were just pure black except for the lining, hers were silver to match Orion's. Everyone who had a betrothed or a partner, their robes lining color always matched those of their partner, for when they went on missions in teams of two.

"We should find Crabbe first, Harry. Find out if he knows anything or if he just did the dirty work." Kreslyn said while tapping her wand against her thigh, silver sparks flying from the tip and hitting the floor. Orion nudges his girlfriend and gives her a stern look, "Calm down Lyn. Now." He whispers to her before standing tall beside her.

[inquisitorhotpants]

So, TLJ

I was going to wait until I saw it again, but ... ehhh let’s get this done. God this post is gonna be long. I’m gonna miss stuff. 

I have 6 main gripes with this movie and I want to get those out of the way first.

That should have been Anakin, not that shitty-ass space frog. Fuck Yoda. 

The codebreaker Maz sent them for should have been Lando, and “we didn’t have time for Lando” is still nonsense. 

Rian, that is a bladderbuster of a movie, we did not need the milking scene, pal.

Also Joss Whedon gets tiresome, let’s dial back the jokes per second yeah? SW is tonally different from Avengers, let’s not make them all samey same.

Why was there no mourning for Han that was visible instead of only learned through “The Art of TLJ” (Leia’s hairstyle was Alderaanian mourning braids.)

... MOAR PHASMA, are you for real with this 0.3 seconds nonsense.

Now, I was so incredibly underwhelmed by TFA (I have literally never watched it since I saw it in theaters one time per my obligation as a Star Wars fan, I felt like JJ Abrams didn’t even care enough to make an original movie) that I wasn’t jazzed about TLJ.

I was very, very, very wrong in that. Holy fuckballs was I ever fucking wrong.

Luke

The flashback trio, holy SHIT. The sanitized, Obi-Wan’d version. Kylo’s “Bilbo seeing the ring” scary-ass wrong version. And finally, Luke’s “I fucked up so so much” version. Luke has always struggled with the Dark Side, with his anger. You see it at the end of RotJ where he’s just hammering on Vader, until he goes a step too far and goes “oh my god what am I doing.”  And then you find out that he bought his own hype, and the Order’s own hype, and drifted close to the Dark Side again, thanks to past trauma from dealing with Vader and his own established tendency to come close to the dark.

But he regrets it so so much. Mark’s monologue talking about that, where you can hear the pain and regret and guilt in his voice, it’s some of his best acting. Luke, driven by shame over what he almost did, driven by survivor guilt, ends up in a very dark place. Shame and guilt are real fucking beasties, and feeling that you failed your students, your nephew, your best friend, your sister, and the galaxy? Jesus. It makes my heart hurt just thinking about it. 

And then finally, someone with the same kind of optimism he used to have shows up, a real genuine Rey of Sunshine as it were. And she does exactly what he did with Vader. She tries, even though she has less of a dog in this fight than he does, and it’s just .... i love it, guys. 

That force projection. GodDAMN. Even Threepio can see him! HOLY SHIT. 

The mirroring of his sacrifice, buying our heroes time, of Obi-Wan’s, was so poignant. 

I cried like a baby all through the scene with him and Carrie. It was so good. 

And then his scene with Kylo, with this man who’s just devoured by anger and feelings of inadequacy and this desperate need to prove himself to a shitty-ass authority figure (Snoke). It was excellent. 

Basically A+ all around, gave Luke nuance and a real depth of character that I wasn’t expecting but I loved after I’d really sat and ruminated on it. He’s always been so positive, and things worked out for him (mostly), and this failure (and there’s the theme of the movie, how you handle failure) just walloped him upside the head and it felt so very, very real to me. <3

I also cried when his robes blew off that rock on Ahch-To. (I cried a lot in this movie lmao)

“Where’s Han?” (me: “fuck me i’m crying a lot.”)

Leia

SPACE MOM OMG <3

Look even if i’d hated the rest of this movie, I was going for Space Mom.

She’s so tired of fighting. She’s so tired of losing that which she loves most. She’s so ready to just sit down and rest. But she won’t, because Leia is the most resilient, and so stubborn and determined and fierce and amazing. Even getting shot into goddamn space isn’t going to stop her.

LEIA USING THE FORCE AND BY GOD SHE HAS SO MUCH STRENGTH IN IT because she’s so very much also Anakin’s kid. <3

Leia being so done with Poe’s nonsense. She’s not going to keep seeing these wholesale sacrifices. Winning doesn’t matter if you don’t have anyone left. The Resistance is not cannon fodder. They are not the First Order, and their people matter. 

Every single scene with Leia I loved. All of them. 

The hurt, and the pain, and the resignation in her voice when she says her son is gone, it broke my heart guys. You can tell she isn’t happy about it. You can tell she didn’t arrive at this decision lightly. Letting go of a family member who’s determined to pursue something destructive is hard as fuck. I’ve seen it happen in my own family. Leia has lost so, so much. Her planet, her parents, her adoptive parents, her husband, her son, and now she knows she’s losing Luke too? I just ... my heart.  

Leia and Rey at the end!  <3  Loved it. 

the goddamn tribute before the credits, yep cried there too. 

Rey

God I love Rey. 

Zero time for Kyle Ron’s nonsense.

GET REKD NERD /vrooms off in the Falcon

Her strength of character, her mirroring of Luke’s attempt at redemption, her positioning as light to dark, her “fine fuck you I’m leaving” when redemption is rejected, I love everything about Rey. 

THE REUNION WITH FINN <3

The introduction to Poe

Did I mention I love Rey? I love Rey. Rey is so driven and determined and amazing. <3 She has no time for an old-ass man’s nonsense. She has no time for a gold bathrobe wearing man’s nonsense. She has no time for Kyle Ron’s nonsense. “Look I have shit to get done so lead, follow, or get the fuck out of my way.” When Luke wouldn’t stand up (because he’s still fighting his own personal demons), she goes “fine, I’ll do it myself.” When Kyle Ron wouldn’t actually burn down the past, she goes, “fine, I have things to do.”

Rey is the Actual Best.

Rey uses her anger! Holy shit I love that. 

Kylo Ren

Look I have to give massive props to Adam Driver. The way he plays someone who’s been emotionally abused, fuck, that shit was giving me flashbacks to my own life. (snoke reminds me of my mom lmao my childhood was great.)

Unlike TFA, I actually found him compelling as a character this time. 

That scene in the elevator actually sort of hurt my heart a little. “Okay, FINE. You don’t think I’m anything? You think I don’t deserve this? THEN I’LL FUCKING SHOW YOU, I’LL DO IT WITHOUT IT, I’LL BE BETTER THAN YOU EVER EXPECTED” and the unspoken “and then you’ll finally accept me”. I got a little choked up, thanks past trauma. 

God I remember trying for decades to get my mom to love me, to say something nice that she meant, to just pretend she liked me. You agree with horrible shit, you feel beat down all the time, all trying to make this truly awful person think you’re somebody. 

So I understand part of Kylo Ren’s drive, tbh.

But he still chose the Space Nazis TWICE. And threw off the love of his family and his uncle. So fuck that jackass.

Look, my mom left literal scars on my face, and i didn’t burn down my school, murder the students, and go join the Hitler Youth. 

He’s the embodiment of “prior trauma does not excuse current actions”

A+ to Adam Driver for playing a character I can go “oh man that sucks, but I would still space your ass in half a second you shitty-ass human being.”

Finn

I love Finn so so so much and I could watch a whole movie just about Finn and Rose and Rey and Poe just ... generally wrecking rich people’s shit around the galaxy ngl.

I wish the fight with Phasma was longer. That was a bit of a letdown.

But Finn is just perfect. I love him. 

Can we talk about how he looked like an Actual Disney Prince running over to make sure Rose was okay? Because he did and I loved it. 

Also how he was totally prepared to give his life to save the Resistance because he has something to fight for, and I wasn’t SUPER sure he was going to be stopped and my heart was in my throat that whole time because Finn you fucking precious human being you. <3

THE REUNION oh my god 12 seconds of sublime perfection. THEY WERE SO HAPPY. (i cried. but i bet you knew that already lmao)

Rose

Cute, takes no shit, period. Love her. Awkward and adorable and just fantastic. 

She felt very reminiscent of Cassian with her “I’ve been fighting this my whole life” stance, and I loved it. 

Little acts of kindness can have huge rippling effects on the universe. <3

I can’t wait to see more of her.

Watching her and Finn totally fucking up rich people’s days, goddamn that was satisfying as fuck. 

I liked the kiss. It was pretty clear she was crushing on Finn the whole time (well maybe not to Finn lmao), it wasn’t drawn out. It didn’t make anything canon, and while I may be all about Finnrey and get more of a brotp vibe from Finnrose, I certainly wouldn’t be mad if it ends up going that way. I thought it was cute. “Fuck it, i’m gonna do it before i pass out.”

Poe

Poe getting schooled by two older, more experienced women, A+. 

Poe reminded me of Saw Guerrera, actually, speaking of Rogue One parallels. He wants to win, no matter the cost. Let’s remember that Saw ended up leaving the main body of the Rebellion over this. 

I thought Poe’s arc was great, tbh. He learned that you have to be able to ADAPT. 

I’m still personally “eh” on not disclosing anything, but at the same time, even if Holdo had told him at least a general idea of what was going on, I think he still would have sent Rose and Finn, he still would have staged the mutiny. His entire thing is “i know better” when he doesn’t, and he learns that he certainly does not always know better. There was a LOT of character growth there, and I loved it. So much of this movie adds depth to characters. <3

That intro to Rey! I loved it so much. 

POE AND BB8, enough said, god they were cute. THEY HAD A FOREHEAD TOUCH. <3 

General things I really liked

that scene where Holdo jumps into the ship. utter silence, light spilling forth from a source of darkness, GODDAMN that shit gave me chills. Amazing. 

The aesthetics, as always. Star Wars movies are just beautiful. 

Porgs! Jesus they were cute. 

“Jakku pretty much is nowhere.” lmao fucking sassy-ass skywalker men 

Literally everything with Chewie. 

THE SOUNDTRACK. 

Snoke Bond Villain-ing it up and promptly dying lmao. “Let me reveal everything about my plan including the fact that I faked this Force bond thing” /pulls a Darth Maul

THAT LIGHTSABER FIGHT GODDAMN. “The enemy of my enemy is my friend” basically. 

Luke flicking invisible dust off his shoulder. 

there’s a lot more but uh yeah i liked this a lot. I’m going to go see it at least one more time. 

[missgulliverinlilliput]

Chapter 5: Mischief by Moonlight

The three Blefuscuian spies huddled together as they read the note that their Emperor had sent them via mechanical pigeon. It read:

To Elioz, Lioz and Avioz: 

Find a way to bump off that dang giant that almost gave General Reubar a stroke, or it’s back to bathroom cleaning for you three! 

Signed: Emperor Mordechai Avegai

This was going to be tougher than they thought.

“So, any ideas?” Elioz asked.

“We got poison!” Avioz suggested.

“No, Avioz, no,” Lioz countered. “We don’t have enough to do the job, so scratch that.”

“Oh.” Avioz deflated.

“Well, fellas,” Elioz declared. “Our only chance is to go down to the beach where we saw them leave that big bag of hers. If we can find something in there that we can use against her...”

“Excellent, excellent,” Lioz agreed. “Let’s do it!” Avioz agreed wholeheartedly.

...

Since everyone in Lilliput was preoccupied with celebrating their gigantic hero, it was easy for the spies to sneak out to the beach unnoticed. Soon, they reached the giant’s bag, still laying where she had left it, untouched by the then-wary Lilliputians. Creeping inside, they were astounded at what lay within.

There was another bag of some unknown transparent material, containing what was obviously the giant’s food, as well as other strange things like a bottle with a similar feel marked “SUN SCREEN” that was filled with a strange gloppy substance, and what looked like a pair of glasses with the “glass” actually being somewhat clear, yet dark-tinted panels which were clearly not made of glass, but some other matter that they couldn’t give a name to.

But what really got their attention was the rolled-up sheets of paper that, once they pulled it out of the bag, was revealed to be a paper book of some kind, labeled “IMAGINE WEEKLY”. Looking through it, they discovered all kinds of interesting concepts, some familiar to them, others bizarre and new. Yet this book didn’t seem to be of any use to them. The spies were just about to continue searching the bag, when Avioz exclaimed “Hey, look at this!”

On one page was what were obviously blueprints for a mechanical giant! With a small man in the picture for scale, it towered above the little figure. 

“Wait, that little guy there’s probably meant to be the giant’s size,” Lioz noticed.

“So, what?” Elioz replied. “We can make him our size, since this thing could still mangle her, anyway.” 

Lioz hummed. “Yeah, good point.”

With shears, they removed the whole page, blueprints and all, from the curious book before starting the journey back to the deserted mill that currently served as their base of operations.

...

When she first awoke in their company, Leia had plenty of time to observe the Lilliputians’ clothing. It was as though she had stepped into a history book (except at the wrong size), because many of the tiny people looked and dressed in old-fashioned garb. This was obviously a world that was behind the times as well as shrunken down.

For example, Gabby, who was currently stuffing her face with chocolate cake, as well as her father, a robust man, looked as though they walked out of one of those books by Jane Austen. Leia had to suppress a chuckle at the thought of Gabby either swooning over Mr. Darcy (in all his opened shirt-rippling glory!), or rejecting him. She couldn’t decide which was funnier in her head. On the other hand, the plump woman whom she had been told was Gabby’s stepmother had a Gibson Girl hairstyle. 

During the banquet, located on the palace’s biggest balcony so that Leia could attend, the Lilliputians treated her to what she guessed was a Lilliputian circus act, which was... interesting, to say the least, in that one of the performers, a knife thrower, accidentally hit the strap of his assistant’s top with one of his blades, and was thrown into the palace’s pond for his trouble. The same fate happened to an audience member who laughed a bit too hard at the jesters’ antics.

When the performance ended, Leia politely said “Thanks for the meal, Your Majesty,” and excused herself. She wanted to retrieve her bag, which she remembered was left on the beach.

By the time she made it to the ocean, it was dark. The sky was clear. her bag was right where she had dropped it, but something was different.

“My magazine...”

How had it gotten outside the bag? It couldn’t have moved there by itself... unless it had help.

Leia picked it up and examined it. A page was missing. She remembered there were mock blueprints for a giant fighting robot on it.

Could one or more of the Lilliputians have taken the page? If so, why? They were hesitant to even go near her bag, which was the reason why they left it untouched. Could they have overcome their fear?

Her train of thought was interrupted by a familiar voice. “Hey, Leia!”

Stuffing the magazine back into her bag, Leia turned to see Gabby running towards her.

Shouldering her bag, she addressed her Lilliputian friend. “Gabby, what brings you here? Don’t you like parties?”

“Yeah, but I really don’t like my stepma,” Gabby replied in a tone of annoyance as she crossed her arms. “’Sides, I was wonderin’ the same thing about you.”

“I came here to get my bag. I couldn’t just leave it here,” Leia confessed. “Hey, did you hear anybody talking about looking through it?” she added.

“Nope. Somebody steal something?”

“Yeah, a page from this,” Leia pulled out what Gabby realized was some sort of book for giants, made of paper. “I don’t know what anyone would want with it, though.”

“Eh, I’ll ask around, see if anybody’s seen anything,” Gabby offered. “I mean, how can ya miss someone haulin’ around a giant page from that weird book of yours?”

“Thanks again,” Leia said. 

“Hey, no problem!” Gabby grinned. “What are friends for?” She then added “Oh, uh, by the way, can I stay in your pocket tonight?”

Now, Leia found this an unusual request. Nevertheless, she consented, getting down on her knees and holding open her pocket. “Okay, but why?”

“I just don’t wanna stay under the same roof as Luba, is all,” The small girl climbed into the pocket. Leia guessed that Luba was her stepmother’s name.

As she stood back up and began her search for a place to spend the night, she hear Gabby speak up from her pocket. “So, since I’m here, ya wanna hear about this one time I went to Alibi Island?”

“Alibi Island?”

“Yeah, I went there and back on a whale!” Gabby answered proudly.

Leia knew that Gabby’s story was more or less a tall tale, but she didn’t want to offend her, so she just smiled. “And what did you do on that island?”

Gabby’s answer was even more over the top. “I fought the Alibian bird men, dodging their exploding noses of death!”

Resisting the urge to laugh, Leia mock-gasped “Wow. Weren’t you scared?”

“Eh, that was nothing compared to when I climbed a mountain to swipe some clouds,” Gabby replied, smiling.

Leia listened to Gabby’s stories until the both of them grew tired. They fell asleep on the beach, Gabby curled up in Leia’s pocket, and Leia using her bag as an improvised pillow.

The whispering waves seemed to sing them a lullaby that night.

[sector-z-knd]

Delightful Encounters: David

It wasn't easy to be part of a hive mind and concentrate alone. If he were alone and working on the same topic as the others, that would have been easier. Not easy, but easier. If he were with the other four, that would have been ideal! But Mr. Willems seemed to think otherwise, and so the boy and his siblings had been split apart between history partners. For a paper. That he could have written himself. With his siblings.

David impatiently tapped his pencil on the notebook, trying to string together the phrase he needed while feeling like a wire was being yanked in the back of his head. Which in essence, there was. David, Ashley, Bruce, Constance, and Lenny were all scattered through the library, each being forced to work on a different topic with their lab partners. If there were a greater distance between them than a few shelves, this feeling of intense multitasking would have dissipated to be replaced with dull static. As it was, the proximity led to loud static punctured with different history subjects passing through like distracting leaf boats on an otherwise still river. That was the beauty and tragedy of a hive mind: it was a bond as thin as spider silk, wide as an ocean, as strong as iron, and impossible to break without sheer force. And sheer force was sitting to his left, shoving a history book across the table with an indignant huff. "They expect me to believe the moon landing was fake?! Man, these Einsteins don't know squat!" the dark-skinned girl snorted, tilting her chair onto its back two legs so she could give the book a proper glare from under her signature red hat. Abigail Lincoln, former Kids Next Door operative, once a cool-tempered, ill-mannered child, now a cool-tempered, ill-mannered teen. Even years later, she hadn't lost that cold fire that had given the Delightful Teens problems in their youth. David almost smiled, knowing that Abigail couldn't even look back on those fights with satisfaction, as KND operatives were all decommissioned on their thirteenth birthdays, with no exception for Abigail. She blew a bubble with her gum and popped it loudly, letting her chair fall onto all fours so she could prop her chin on her hands. "If these history buffs were so smart, why don't they just go to the moon? Check and see if their fool nonsense is real fact instead of the opinions of old geezers." "Tell me about it," muttered David, though in all honesty, he didn't care about her opinion, only in her ability to do well on homework. He blew a puff of air into his bangs to make them flutter before returning his attention to his paper. Most of what he'd written made sense, but he'd give the proofreading work to- Fwip! David blinked, the sudden difference in lighting surprising. He didn't even need to turn his head to see Abigail lower herself back into her chair. "You'd see the truth better without those bangs getting in your way." The teen turned his head, looking dead into brown eyes with his own sky blue, and shook his head once. As one, all his bangs slid obediently back into place, hiding his gaze. Part of his mysterious demeanor was held solely because no one was sure what he was really looking at, and instead were left in confusion as to what he sought in his glance. A perfect intimidation tactic. Abigail let out a short laugh, amused at his defiance. "How do you even see through that mess, anyway?" "My hair is very thin," was the short reply, David not sparing her a glance in favor of his work. Two seconds later, the girl reached over and flicked his hair out of his face again, earning an irritated grunt. "What?" he growled. "What's the deal with you hiding your face all the time. Why don't you brush it back?" "I don't like it." "Here now-" "Stop-" "Try it for five minutes-" "Do you mind?!" Before he knew it, David was being bombarded by both of Abby's hands trying to swipe at his bangs, and was forced to slap stupidly at her hands and deflect her with his palms. Up, up, left, over, under, feint right and jab. He smirked; he still knew all her moves. With practiced ease from years of fighting, he fought her wrists into his hands, giving her a triumphant smirk to make her stop struggling. However, now that he'd caught her, what was he supposed to do with her? A moment was taken to assess the situation. Abigail was half out of her seat and leaning over him a little, face puckered ever so slightly in playful yet concentrated effort. She was actually eye-level with the freakishly tall boy when he sat. As always, her gaze was cool and steady, a silent dare that made his jaw clench in frustration. "Why does it matter to you so much?" He hissed, squeezing her wrists in warning. Whatever her insipid reasoning could be, nothing she said would persuade him to change his hairstyle. It was one of the few things that were truly under his control. "Because," came the reply, "you have some nice eyes." "Well, I-! Uh," His scathing remark died in his throat as he digested her words. Was that actually a compliment? Instead of the harsh, vitriolic banter that had plagued their childhoods and had continued into their teen years, she had actually given him a compliment. Some things must change after decommissioning, he figured. Nevertheless, his willpower was stronger than sweet words. "Tough," he sneered, releasing her wrists and pressing his bangs back over his face. The man was nothing if not proud, and he was no push-over. With that sneer still on his lips, he turned away again, intent on finishing this paper before the end of study hall. She pushed his bangs back. Both of David's hands slapped onto the table, complete irritation making his whole body curdle. "You. NEED. To. Stop." "You know I'm just going to keep doing it until you ease up." David's hands turned to fists. How dare she? How dare she look at him with that expectant, smug expression? How dare she try to force him to do something against his will? How dare she think she had any right to dictate how he should look, when she had the freedom to express herself however she wanted? Like dressing up as some sort of skinny red and blue flagpole? ...look. A sly smile slid onto the brunette's lips, making Abigail narrow her eyes in suspicion. There was obviously something new going through the boy's mind, his air of confidence returning as he turned his whole body to her, previous fists smoothed flat. "Fine, I'll move my bangs back. But I get to wear your hat." Abigail's surprised snort turned derisive mid-grunt. "Yeah right, don't nobody wear Abby's hat. Private property." She pinched the rim defensively, pulling it down until only the lower half of her face was seen. How ironic. "Then no deal," grinned the other, expression now as smug as the one Abigail had worn not thirty seconds ago. "If you can't take the heat, then don't dish it out. No hat, no bangs!" Oh, how the tables had been turned, and David again had the coveted upper hand. Now she would finally stop pestering him, and he could move on with his work in peace. That's what he thought until a red hat appeared in his vision. Surprised eyes trailed up the brown arm to the slender face that was sour with a scowl. Without her hat, she looked so much more vulnerable, very un-Abigail-like, but her curled lip let him know that if he even dared to try something, he would pay for it ten fold. "Five minutes," she growled, jabbing the hat at him. David's heart plummeted all the way down into his feet, and he tried to backpedal, leaning away from the hat like it was covered in lice. "Ah, no, I meant, but..." His panic rippled out over the spider thread in the back of his mind, crashing into the shores of his siblings, each of whom sent back waves of confusion and concern. Across the library, four separate chairs squeaked as four people pushed back in welling dread. Again, Abigail thrust the hat at him, open face now dangerous enough to turn boiling coffee into an iced mocha. Another urgent squeak as chairs were moved even further. The line in the back of David's head tightened as the distance between the group shortened. His desire to again be whole was straining against Abby's wilting stare; he couldn't meet her gaze, couldn't look at her at all with the threads twisting tighter. His eyes darted around for an excuse, a solution, and fell on his notebook. They... were supposed to be writing a paper. History. Class work. The Delightful Teens were always impeccable in their class work. If they were all in one spot, they wouldn't be working with their partners. They would surely fail the assignment if they didn't work on it with their partners. The cold realization filtered through years of osmosis before finally reaching the other four, each of whom slowly sank back down in their seats. The feeling of belonging ebbed into the cracks of responsibility. David was again alone in his mind, except for the static buzzing with concern, just soft enough to be noticeable. All this happened within three seconds of David seeing his notebook, but the ordeal made him feel hundreds of years old. When he looked up through his seemingly ancient eyes, a red hat was still held out and a dark-skinned girl was still glaring at him. He almost wilted under that gaze, but reminded himself of what was at stake. Inhaling sharply through his nose, he snatched up the cap and stuffed the thing on his head. Fine. This was still a victory for The Delightful Teens. Lose the battle, win the war. Unfortunately, the hat was too large for his oblong head, and slid almost all the way in front of his face. Abigail must have a really big head. Readjusting the strap didn't help either. He finally settled for putting the hat on with the brim in the back, the thing tipping precariously on his head, some of his hair peeking out from the hole over the strap. "Ahem," snorted Abigail, catching his attention again. She had her arms crossed and was leaning back in her chair, shoulders hunched like she was trying to make herself smaller. A wave of triumph swept through David as he knew she was feeling the same sense of loss as she had been trying to foist on him. However, once catching his eye, Abigail reached over and pushed his bangs out of his face, slipping the hair under the strap. "There! Now aren't you a handsome boy!" She chuckled in a saccharine sweet voice that made him want to gag. "Whatever," he droned, rolling his eyes widely to prove that none of this would be the picnic she'd hoped for. Attention dropped flatly to his notebook, and he started writing the phrase that had escaped him earlier. Nothing was going to distract David from his work now, not even the soft, almost affectionate chuckle to his left, the dark hair flipping into his peripherals as she brought her braid over her shoulder, or the creak as she leaned closer, no doubt watching him from the corner of those brown eyes. ...nevertheless, it was all very distracting.

[animeride-blog]

Ballroom e Youkoso Episode 12 Review https://animeride.com/arspecial/review/6818/ballroom-e-youkoso-episode-12-review/ #BallroomDance, #Chicuru, #Chinatsu, #Fujita, #FujitaTatara, #GajuAndTatara, #Mako, #SengokuAndChizuru, #Tatara

New Post has been published on https://animeride.com/arspecial/review/6818/ballroom-e-youkoso-episode-12-review/

Ballroom e Youkoso Episode 12 Review

Oh yeah this is what I was excited for last week.  Sengoku showing off his stuff and he did look Great ! So Ballroom e Youkoso episode 12 lets break this down.

BallroomThoughts

Alright so this was the “cool down” episode. With all the tension from the Tenpei cup finally gone we get to relax a bit and ease into the next arc of Ballroom. We find out Tatara finally learns how much he sucks when he and Shizuku watch the film from the Tenpei cup and he’s downright embarrassed and ashamed at his performance. We all knew how much he sucked but it’s nice to see him finally grasp how much he needs to improve. We also get to see good ol Gaju again being in the same school as Tatara so if you weren’t really ever a fan of him I’m gonna have some bad news for you. He’s going to be sticking around so I’d suggest opening up a bit to him. Since he’s more or less pretty damn friendly with Tatara after he got mad at him…….oh for what?….cause Mako started wearing a bra, and I’m not quite sure if he’s mad cause he doesn’t want to see his little sister grow up, is a strange pervert brother, or is just upset that it happened after Tatara paired up with her. I’m going to guess the latter in that he thinks Tatara did some unsavory things to her. I would also like to point out Tatara’s LOFTY goal now that he’s in high school.

He’s definitely got more balls than I would telling his entire class that he likes ballroom dancing since it’s such a niche thing and people may find it odd. I certainly wouldn’t end up telling the class if it was me. But hey, that shows his determination towards his goal and love for Ballroom dancing.

HAHA HOWEVER those little things wasn’t why I was excited for this episode: that happened in the latter half. When Sengoku finally gets to show his stuff to both Tatara and us the audience by actually dancing in a competition. And boy does he look good. I can dig whatever outfit or hairstyle he uses cause he can really pull off anything. We see him and his partner dance to the quickstep where he decides to show off in front of Tatara a bit. The dancing itself looks pretty good since they gave us a good amount of actual movement this week. So when I say pretty good I mean it looks like some of the best consecutive dancing we’ve seen without interruptions or panning shots. Also worth pointing out that I believe this is the first time we hear the song for the quickstep all the way through without interruptions and I really liked it. It seems that the production team aren’t big fans of letting us hear most of the music the characters dance to, but they don’t have much of a problem letting us hear the Waltz or Quickstep even if they are for a short time. I find it odd.

Things start to get interesting once Sengoku steps on for the Waltz. We see him do some basic moves before deciding that it’s the preliminaries so they should mess around some. It’s hard to describe what he does but I’ll try my best. He ends up noticeably lengthening his strides before he ends up dancing where his back is strangely twisted and his head is tilted back more than normal. In most other cases this would cause dancers to break their hold but for Sengoku it’s apart of his unique style of dancing. Tatara thinks back to when Sengoku said the Waltz should be like a smooth moving current in the water and I love the effect the art and animation take at that moment.

Sengoku’s dancing distorts like ripples in the water making his, and his partner’s, figures look distorted and underwater. The music changes to sound like it’s cutting in and out, and honestly it made it seem like kind of creepy music which adds to the distortion. Of course Tatara can see it’s like they are moving in water but he himself feels like he’s seasick because of the massive difference in skill between Sengoku and himself that he’s finally seeing. He’s a bit overwhelmed by the fact that he’s seeing his teacher dance for the first time AND he’s just finding out that Sengoku is Japan’s only world level dancer……….oh did I not mention that? Yeah my Man Zoro is Japan’s ONLY world level dancer so he is obviously no schmuck.

He feels like he’ll never get to Sengoku’s level but of course we all know that’s probably not true. Time to give Sengoku’s partner a name. Her name is Chizuru and man do I love her. I always have in the manga and thankfully in this episode she still keeps her spitfire attitude by literally beating the shit out of her partner because he changed the flow of their dance without letting her know. Chizuru and Sengoku are easily one of my favorite pairs because they are such a power couple and I hope Ballroom keeps the little extra details that the manga has which shows how close their relationship really is. She switches between being a hothead with Sengoku to being such a mom around Tatara with a snap of the fingers and it’s adorable really. Though I have to say I think she looks better with her hair down than all dolled up, but that’s just me personally.

Lastly we get formally introduced to Chinatsu the real heroine of this series. I can see people not being real big fans of Chinatsu because she’s quite the tsundere. She hears Tatara tell the class that he likes ballroom dancing and she tells him that she thinks it’s lame straight to his face, but later during Sengoku’s competition at the end of the episode we see that she was actually there to watch, so she’s a hypocrite and a closet dancer. But I’m excited because she’s the one who will make Tatara a truly better dancer in the long run so I hope people do like her because I certainly do.

Overall I really did enjoy this episode. It was really well paced, had good character introductions, and it was a good episode to let us breathe easier after the last arc. Seeing  Sengoku’s dancing animated was fantastic and I got some good quality Sengoku screenshots from it. Chizuru is a spitz of a personality that adds a good color to the cast that we already have and Chinatsu adds to that as well. Oh, we also do get a new opening and ending this week. I know people were salty about he opening’s spoilers but really what can you do? If you didn’t guess that Chinatsu was going to be Tatara’s dance partner from the moment she was on screen I think you need to learn the old “only character in the room with colored hair” rule in the anime world. I was a big fan of the ending myself.

But it seems that next week we’ll see Tatara actually being the partner follower and Chinatsu be the leader in their practicing together so that surely will be interesting to see.

So what’s your thoughts for this episode ? Do let us know in Comments ! Have a nice day !

[sunbrights]

ALSO ALSO: We Gotta Take Care of Somebody Else's Kid

Asahina’s kid has a set of blocks to play with, except that they’re not really blocks. As he understands it, they’re shoeboxes scavenged from a whole lot of somewheres, painted to look like brick and wood and glass. Asahina had worked on them all through her pregnancy, even when she was too big around to properly see what she was doing.

(“She needs to be a kid!” she’d insisted, whenever anyone tried to convince her to slow down, or stop, or that what she had already was enough. “She needs real toys, even in a world like this one.”)

They’re nice. It’s not like the Future Foundation’s compound was designed with children in mind, anyway, and Tsumiki’s recommendation had been to keep the kid indoors and out of the air pollution outside, at least until her critical development years were finished.

The kid’s done pretty well, considering the circumstances she’s in.

She’s also a fucking nightmare. She has her mother’s energy in triplicate, and she loves to destroy what she builds more than she likes to build it in the first place. It’s been ten minutes and he already has a headache blooming behind both temples, while she shrieks and laughs and smashes in the background.

“I don’t think this is wise,” Peko says, again.

She wants to do this even less than he does, he thinks. She’s been doing that thing where she holds all of her joints too stiffly, her shoulders drawn in and her knees locked and her neck pulled back. She hovers by the door with both arms crossed and watches Asahina’s little ogre tumble through play-made cities, eyes narrow and apprehensive.

“It’ll be fine!” Asahina says, again. She clasps Peko by both elbows, which only twists her joints up tighter. “Please! It’s just for one day. I’ll owe you a billion, I’m serious.”

“That,” Fuyuhiko mutters, “and there’s literally nobody else here to do it instead.”

The little ogre drives her whole foot through the side of one of the boxes and sends it flying across the room, where it collapses in a pathetic heap against the wall.

He probably shouldn’t be calling her little ogre out loud, today. At least not while she’s in earshot.

“Hey,” he barks, and her head swivels toward them. She has to shove the mess of her hair out of her eyes. “Let’s go, Sakura. You’re with us.”

*

Sakura demands the pool.

On the one hand, he can’t blame her; the pool is maybe the least boring place in the entire compound, to a kid. On the other hand, pools are pretty fucking boring, and they reek of chemicals to boot. Especially this one, with how aggressively Asahina maintains it.

That doesn’t matter to her little ogre, though. Sakura refuses to let him sit on the deck and watch her play. “That’s boring!” she says, while Peko ties the decorative bows on her swimsuit. “You’re boring.”

He sits with her on the steps of the shallow end; that’s as far as he’s willing to let a pipsqueak push him around. She’s not ready to be swimming on her own yet, so she throws things out for Peko to dive for: pens and paperweights swiped from Togami’s desk and, once, Fuyuhiko’s eye patch, because he was stupid enough to take his one good eye off of her for half a goddamn second.

(Peko returns it, cupped in both hands. She tries to hide her smile under the surface of the water, but her nose still scrunches and her eyes still crinkle, and it makes having the damn thing be cold and slimy the rest of the day worth it, just about.)

Sakura gets tired of watching Peko dive, eventually, the way she eventually gets tired of everything. She bounces in the water until it starts to spill over the edge, and then she bounces some more, just to see how high she can toss it.

“F—” He has to clamp his whole jaw down on the rest of the syllable to keep it from coming out the way he wants. “C’mon, hold still, kid. There’s not gonna be any water left at this rate.”

“I wanna go out!” she insists. “Out deeper. Like Peko!”

Peko meets his eye across the water.

“Alright,” he says, and the water churns with Sakura’s excited feet. “But only if you make a deal. You get me? Something for something. That’s the way it works.”

“I get it, I get it!” She cranes her neck back to look at him, and nearly catches him on the chin with the top of her head. “Come on. What do I gotta do?”

“Here’s the deal.” He stands up in the shallows, arms hooked around her middle, and she shrieks with delighted laughter. “We’ll go out into the middle, you and me. Out to where Peko is, yeah?” She clambers up to his shoulders while he wades out, arms around his neck. “But you gotta have one hand on me or her the whole time we’re out there. Got it?” He grips her fingers, in case she isn’t listening. “You don’t do that, and we’re outta here. No exceptions.”

The bottom of the pool starts to slope down. Not by much: the water still only rises about halfway up his chest, but when it sloshes it licks at the bottom of Sakura’s shoulders. She drags herself higher in his arms, one clammy hand against the back of his neck.

“You alright?” he prompts.

She hides her face against the side of his head; the tip of her nose is cold and wet, right in his ear. It’s gross, kind of, but he resists the urge to pull away and scrub at it.

“You wanna go back?”

“No.”

Peko glides toward them, both hands outstretched. The surface of the water barely ripples.

“We’re here,” he tells Sakura. He’s not sure what else to do, except pat her back with his one free hand. “Peko’s right behind you. One hand on us the whole time, remember?”

Sakura nods against his jaw. She’s got her fingers all twisted up in his hair, now. She doesn’t let go.

“Sakura,” Peko says. “When I count to three, jump.”

Her fingers twist so tight she might actually tear his hair out.

Peko isn’t deterred. “I’ll catch you,” she says. She pats her palms against the surface of the water. “With both hands. You won’t break Fuyuhiko’s rule.”

“Hey,” he whispers. “If you want anybody watching your back, it’s Peko. She’s the best there is, take it from me.”

Sakura lifts her head from his neck. “You ready?” he asks. She rubs at her eyes, and nods. “Alright then.”

“One,” Peko says. “Two….”

Sakura squeals when she hits the water.

*

Peko stoops to wring her hair out onto the pool deck. Sakura copies her, doubled over at the waist, small hands scrunching her dark hair into knots.

“Will you do mine like yours?” she asks.

Peko looks at him for help, but it’s not like he knows how to translate any better than she does. He shrugs, in a way he hopes at least looks apologetic.

“Like… how?” Peko tries.

“Like yours!” Sakura grips her hair in both hands, uneven clumps on either side of her head. “Um, pigtails.”

“Oh.” Peko touches the side of her own head with her fingertips. She’d let her hair loose, to go swimming. “I… Yes. If you’d like.”

“Yes!” Sakura grabs her by both hands and drags her down to the pool deck. “Sit! And then I sit… here!”

She plops herself down at Peko’s feet, smile big and hair a rat’s nest, and waits.

Peko’s eyes are big. She looks overwhelmed. She lifts her hands, but they only hover on either side of Sakura’s head, frozen.

He stands up to bring her glasses over to her. She tilts her head back to look at him, and he lets their fingers brush when she takes them. “Thought they might help,” he says. She closes her eyes, and takes a small, measured breath.

When she opens them again, she takes Sakura’s hair in both hands and starts to pick through each of the tangles with her fingertips, methodical and gentle.

“Is it gonna be pretty?” Sakura asks him, when he sits down across from them.

“It’s pretty on her,” he answers. He squints at her. She squints back. “Jury’s still out on you.”

“We’re gonna be twice as pretty,” she tells him. She squirms when Peko tugs through a knot, two fingers against her scalp. So it doesn’t pinch. He remembers that, back from when Natsumi insisted Peko teach her how. “And you’re gonna be zero pretty, ‘cause your hair’s not long enough.”

“You need to hold still, Sakura,” Peko says.

Sakura sucks in a breath and holds it. She does manage to keep still, up until the point she has to let all the air out.  “Is it almost done yet?”

“Not yet.”

“Hey,” he says. “You think that’s an easy hairstyle to pull off? You gotta let her work.”

“But I’m bored already.”

“How about I tell you a story, then? Will you sit still for that?”

Sakura’s face scrunches. “I’ve heard all of Mom’s stories already,” she says to her feet. “I know they’re not real.”

“Do I look like your mom to you?” Sakura shakes her head, without looking up. “No. So you know I ain’t gonna bullshit you, right?”

“Bad word,” Sakura mutters.

“You wanna hear the story or not?”

“Fine,” she sighs. “I guess.”

“Okay then. Now listen up, ‘cause I’m about to tell you a story about the greatest ninja who ever lived. It’s a big deal, understand?” Sakura looks back at him, eyes round. “‘Cause the greatest ninja who ever lived was a little girl like you, once.”

Peko plaits while he talks. First her fingers smooth through every twisted knot and tangle, until Sakura’s hair lies dark and sleek against her head. Then she splits it into sections: first two, tied high, and then three and three on either side.

He can’t look at her too much. He’s figured out that the key to keeping the little ogre’s attention is to not let her think there’s something else more interesting she could be paying attention to. But each time he does look, Peko is a little looser: her shoulders slouch, her chin dips, and her fingers pluck and weave with easy confidence.

She ties the braids off with her own ribbons, long and white and fluttery. “There,” she says. Her hands hover for a moment, then skim the top of Sakura’s shoulders, a hesitant little pat. “Finished.”

Sakura nearly falls when she scrambles to her feet, but it doesn’t stop her, or even slow her down. She sticks her head out over the edge of the pool to check her reflection. “See!” She twists back, and points him in the face, triumphant. “Pretty!”

“Yeah,” he says. “Can’t argue that one.”

*

Getting Sakura down for her nap turns out to be the easiest thing they’ve done all day. She rides the whole way to her room on his back because she demanded it, and ends up half-drooling on his shoulder by the time they’re halfway there.

(He blames the sugar, personally. He’s seen the box of donuts the little ogre hides behind her bed, because she’d drowsily shoved it into his lap when he laid her down, slurring that because the three of them were best friends now, they had to have a donut pact.)

He and Peko sit together on the floor outside Sakura’s door. It’s been a long day; his muscles ache in bizarre places, and his clothes are still damp all over, somehow. He wants a breath, just one, before it all starts back up again.

Peko tilts her head back against the wall. Her hair is still loose, and starting to dry in the open air, frizzy and stiff from chlorine. Her eyes are far away.

He lays his hand out next to hers, close but not touching. He’s learned plenty in the last few years, mostly through trial and error.

“Hey,” he says. Her eyes slide back into focus, and when she looks at him the line of her mouth curves into something that can’t be called a recognizable smile, but that’s recognizable to him all the same. “You okay?”

She looks down at their hands, curled next to each other on the floor, and doesn’t answer. She’s learned to think, to take time to sort feeling from instinct. He’s learned to wait.

She wriggles her fingers underneath his hand, so that she can cup her palm up and trace the ridge of his wrist with her thumb.

“Yes,” she decides, and her touch is warm, twined through his.

[sininensalo-a]

MEET THE MUSE POWER HOUR! 🌿

━━ take a seat and REPOST this detailed little bio with criteria to introduce the world to your muse.     no reblog karma or tagging ━  if you see this on your dash, feel free to partake in it!

Minä tulen milloin minulle sopii. Ehkä en tule ollenkaan, ehkä menen aivan toiselle suunnalle.

🌿 ━ B A S I C S .

NAME: Jaakko Heikki Järvinen → officially Suomen tasavalta / Republiken Finland / Republic of Finland. Or Suomi/Finland, simple as that.  NICKNAME(S): Jaakki, Jaakka, Jaska, Muumipappa. AGE: Physically he’s around 25 years of age, his real age is unknown due to vague dating of the past, probably around 1800-ish, give or take a century. Probably less than that though. GENDER:  Cis male, masculine appearing. NATIONALITY:  Finnish.

🌿 ━ A P P E A R A N C E .

EYE COLOR: His eyes are blue and one would call them icy [ LF-01 ] has it not been for a certain warm vibe they send out. They’re not hollow, neither are they two voids embed in their sockets. They’re tired but certainly not washed out of feelings or emotions. His eyes truly are the mirror of his soul, deep and enshrouded with a mist of ambiguity and yet if you’re familiar with him it’s unnecessary to ask him how he’s doing – you can read it all in them. HAIR COLOR: It’s not platinum blond, neither is it blond of dark hue. It’s somewhere in the middle [ or “Beeline Honey” here if you require a full name ]. It’s a color very pleasant to the eye, reminiscing the fields scattered all over the country. HAIRSTYLE: To put it simple, it’s messy. It’s most usual to see him with his hair parted in the middle of his forehead and running down a cascade of split ends, grim reminders of his famous and somewhat magnificent dreads he wore in the late 70s until early 90s and the fact that he’s perpetually at odds with probably every single hairdresser on this planet. It’s just not easy to trust someone with a sharp object in hand working around your neck. HEIGHT: He’s not short but he’s not the tallest either. He stands at 178 cm (or 5′10″). It’s not difficult for taller people to underestimate him and his abilities to wreck some shit despite not having several inches more in his height number. This has been a fair warning. WEIGHT: Last time he checked it was something around 90-92 kg (198-202 lbs). He just cannot deny himself something good to eat every now and then and this beer is just a bit too tempting to say no to it. BUILD: Because of the reasons stated above Jaakko is chubby and his cheeks are pudgy. Sometimes he feels a bit self-conscious about his appearance but it does not happen often enough for him to particularly care. He likes to joke that he’s as round and soft as a Moomin and he’s honestly not too far from being right.  TATTOO(S): His most prominent ones would be a bear on his right arm and a piece of forest on his left leg. He also has two smaller tattoos, a ‘sisu’ written on his left wrist and a Snufkin on inner left forearm. Jaakko’s not planning on getting any more tattoos. SCAR(S): This is a touchy topic for him and confronted about his scars he’ll withdraw into himself and just leer at the asker if they’re not close enough to him (but those are familiar with the meanings and reasons behind his scars so no conversation about them should occur). There’s one on the central side of his chest, leaning a bit towards left side, just about where his heart is. This one tells a tale of losing Karelia in Winter War. The other looks more terrible and represents the loss of Petsamo, or Finland’s Left Arm, to Soviet Union in the aftermath of Continuation War. It’s a long and writhing around his left shoulder – just where the arm connects with the corpus – scar that resembles the loss of his entire arm for several years to come. On the side of his neck there is also an ugly scar he bears after having been shot in artery what caused instant death on the battlefield (also during Continuation War). If one is a careful watcher they might also notice a shot scar on his left calf during Civil War of 1918.

They’re his relatively fresh scars, otherwise he’s covered in more or less faded ones, products of endless wars conducted on his territories in the past. He’s not certain where each of them comes from anymore, there’s too many, especially on his back and sides. There’s also several cut scars on his hands, he practiced the knife game on his hands very intensely. PIERCING(S): He wears them only occasionally but he has at least one eyebrow piercing and an industrial in right ear, alongside a few helix piercings on both ear flakes [ here’s a picture with explanations in case anyone needs it ]. There’s at least one pair in his upper lobe, too. He used to wear a lip piercing as well but he sort of forgot and he’d have to re-pierce it if he wanted to wear it again. PREFERRED FASHION: A disaster. He’s actually quite happy with his thrift store clothes, only slightly modified by his Finnish sister figure or human friend so they fit him better or embrace his personal style and taste a bit better. He’s either wearing checkered shirts with jeans, black band shirts or your local grandpa sweaters. All together with just tragic socks someone should get rid of immediately. And crocs. Jaakko can dress properly when he has to but it’s always an adventure as well. There’s this one suit he has but it could as well pass for a part of a museal exhibition. TYPICALLY SMELLS LIKE: It’s usually his aftershave, soap he uses during morning shower and cologne – if he doesn’t forget about it. His natural smell could be described as this earthy smell that lingers in the air after the tempest in a birch forest; smell of fields of grain rippling in the wind;  freshly baked crispy rye bread; tint of licorice, sea salt with faint alcoholic breeze accenting the whole. OTHER: He has several moles on his body, not too many, and mostly located on his neck and back. His right arm is stronger and longer a bit than left one which gets weary much faster than its right equivalent. His eyebrows are rather thick but not overly so, he’s more likely to be seen with some facial hair than with none at all. He enjoys simple jewelry and wears pendants such as Ukko’s hammer or a bear claw pendant.

🌿 ━ P E R S O N A L I T Y .

POSITIVE TRAITS: || ambitious || alert || benevolent || caring || clever || conscientious || considerate || courageous || discreet || dutiful || earnest || educated || efficient || eloquent || faithful || focused || genuine || hard-working || helpful || insightful || intelligent || loyal || meticulous || painstaking || patient || reliable || scrupulous || understanding || well-rounded || NEUTRAL TRAITS: || disciplined || forthright || humble || independent || invulnerable || leisurely || manly™ || modest ||  observant || orderly || private || protective || secretive || self-critical || self-denying || sensitive || self-conscious || shrewd || shy || steadfast || upright || venturesome ||  NEGATIVE TRAITS: || aloof || anxious || asocial || clumsy || coarse || destructive || difficult || escapist || gloomy || hesitant || irascible || melancholic || moody || offhand || paranoid || petty || pugnacious || restrained || stubborn || sullen || tactless ||  LIKES: sauna, alcohol (beer!), Moomins, coffee, rye bread, hockey, hunting, sailing, swimming, walks in the forest, bears, dogs, firearm, metal music, licorice, chocolate, berries, mushrooms, herbs, books, alcohol (vodka!), sun, singing, playing various instruments, woods, bonfires, baking, stormy weather, old comedies, black humor, gardening, card games, knife song game, LOTR, sea, lakes, beaches, sweets, mämmi. DISLIKES: Ivan, mosquitoes, scorching weather, Too Much Snow, losing in hockey, nosy people, public speaking, narrow/cramped spaces, constrained movement, being mistaken for a Russian/Swede, small talk, awkward situations, effusiveness, poorly made horrors, being underestimated, being sick, hangovers, politics, crowds, mämmi. PHOBIAS / FEARS: Being ignored/forgotten by those he cares for/loves, being ruled over by someone again, hospitals, osmophobia (hypersensitivity to smells causing aversion to odors). HABITS: Drinking issues away, swearing, sauna time each evening, cleaning up the entire house on Saturdays, keeping a journal, shooting range time once a week, arms workout three times a week, walking his dog at least once a day (otherwise the dog’s in the garden). 🌿 ━ R E L A T I O N S H I P S .

SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Pretty much (demi)bisexual. ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: Demiromantic. RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Single. This one Estonian is really cute though.

🌿 ━ H E A L T H .

CHRONIC CONDITIONS: His entire left arm isn’t as strong as his right one. Fortunately he’s right-handed and therefore doesn’t use left hand too often. When he absolutely has to, however, the inequality in distribution of strength is quite visible. If this counts in here he also suffers from clinical depression. ADDICTIONS: Caffeine, alcohol, nicotine, salmiakki.   ALLERGIES: N/A

🌿 ━ H O M E .

PLACE OF RESIDENCE: Helsinki/Helsingfors as of late due to his current occupation. He’d be more than happy to leave elsewhere however. METHOD OF TRANSPORTATION: Preferably a car, public transportation when he absolutely has to; trains, planes, boats/ferries. PETS: A mixed breed dog Musti. 

🌿 ━ W O R K  &&  E D U C A T I O N.

JOB: History lecturer at the University of Helsinki.      SCHOOLING: PhD in History, MD in Agriculture. SPOKEN LANGUAGES: Finnish, Swedish, Russian, German, English, Estonian, (understanding of) most Finnic languages, Northern Sámi. SKILLS: Good at problems solving, perseverance & motivation, genuine devotion to work, ingenuity.

🌿 ━ R A N D O M .

QUIRKS: Clearing throat, nervous lips licking and fiddling with fingers, playing with hair, sticking post-it-notes everywhere in his house so he doesn’t forget to do some things he’s probably bound to forget, usually chores, doodling idly while talking on the phone. HANDEDNESS: Right-handed.  RELIGION: eh Technically speaking he’s a Lutheran. Not exactly practicing but he tries to show up in the church every now and then. THEME SONG(S): Journey Man. BOSS BATTLE MUSIC: Darude - Sandstorm (I’m dead serious)