#magic rock saga

[critical-catastrophe]

a homebrew i'm working on as a gift for a friend and would especially appreciate any feedback on -- an ancient draconic sword that's intended to level up with its wielder (currently i've only made the lowest level version of it, the Ancient Flame). my thought is that it imbues the wielder with fire in both the metaphorical and literal sense, but can burn those who aren't worthy by the standards of its creator. specifically, it's going to our party's dragonborn monk, who is the only good party member and generally a classic Heroic Adventurer archetype, and who always wishes her breath weapon could be used slightly more often

homebrewery version

#homebrewing my best #magic rock saga #d&d #dungeons and dragons #d&d homebrew #dnd #dnd 5e #dungeon master #ttrpg #if it helps our party will be level 4 when they first get the item #and ofc y'all are still welcome to use it! #this one is just for a specific purpose too

[mythical-art]

Niobe transformed into the Weeping Rock (colour litho) by Artus Scheiner

#Artus Scheiner #scheiner #niobe #crying #rock #crying rock #weeping #fels #legend #myth #saga #fairy tail #childrens books #transform #magic #magical #fluch #spell #fairy #fairycore #storybook #sadgirl #sad poem #waterfall #stream #moss #art #painting #illustration #artwork

[astronicht]

Incomplete list of stuff that made me go apeshit reading Fellowship for the first time, medievalist edition (part II)

Part I here. Disclaimer: this is for fun!

Love that people keep stressing that they are going to the ELVES for COUNCIL. Old English names, especially among the rulers of Wessex, Northumbria, Mercia, etc, were often Elf Theme Names, one of the most famous and enduring of which is Alfred. Written the old way, Ælfræd or Ælfred (as in Alfred the Great), means Elf-Council, aka "counseled by elves". In their hearts... everyone wants to be Alfred... possibly this is only funny 2 me.

Tom Bombadil doing a training montage in the fucking magic system of Middle Earth?? He teaches Frodo to recite a poem that will summon him, Tom Bombadil, in times of need! Frodo gets kidnapped by undead wights in a barrow (like many a good young person in an Old Norse saga before him) and dutifully recites this magic poem. Frodo learned Recite Magic Poem! TOM BOMBADIL SMASHES THRU THE WALL OF THE BARROW LIKE THE KOOL-ADE MAN AND RECITES A BIGGER, STRONGER POEM??

At this point I gave up on trying to be normal about anything. As such, I'm pausing on Tom Bombadil again.

It helped (?? not psychologically) that Tom Bombadil recited something that felt a bit familiar, when he banished the wights. It's not anything like a direct translation, if indeed it bears any purposeful resemblance to the actual recorded medieval galdor called Against a Wen. Regardless, Against a Wen is an okay?? example of what a spoken word magic poem would look like, and why it's similar to what Tom Bombadil (and later Gandalf and others) do. Left screenshot is Bombadil against a barrow-wight. Right is Against a Wen, in English translation. (a wen was possibly a skin ailment, like a mole or a cancer). Banishing to/beyond the hills and shrivelling are the apparent themes. You don't have to follow me on this one, much less agree. Frankly this is the point I went off the deep end, probably.

Galdor can also protect! This just happens to be a banishment.

Gollum got exiled (the worst thing the early medieval and apparently proto-hobbit law could do to you) but not even for murder. No one found out about the murder. He just sucked.

ALSO Gollum lied and said that his matriarch (who exiled him) gave him the Ring. This implies it was plausible she'd give out rings, implying female ring-giver (standard role of a king). This is mentioned once and never again. ok!!

One last fun fact about galdor: it is the word at the end of "nightingale" isn't that lovely? Luthien's name in-universe means nightingale. This is fine!

I spent a lot of time researching Aragorn's favorite rock. I love these books. If I recall correctly it's a real rock! but possibly. just a cool rock.

#astro lotr #this one is less fun than part 1 but i like having a sort of cheat sheet for myself!! #frankly even i am not sure what some of my mid-read posts are talking about

[fandom]

Memes

At a certain point, it was just hard to keep up. They seemed to fall from the sky like fizzing raindrops, soaking everything in pure wildness—memes, that is. 2022 had an absolute bumper crop of memes. The fertile field of this year’s chaos was sown freely, resulting in some impressively widespread phenomena. Most of it remained pretty contained within the dashboard, but at the end of the year the biggest meme of them all broke containment…We’re getting ahead of ourselves here. 

Cast your mind back to January 2022. We kicked off the year with Horse Plinko, which soon joined forces with Eeby Deeby in a frenzy of flaming gifs in which the poor horse plinko’d its way to Super Hell. Nothing has ever summed up the mildly deranged meme generation process on Tumblr so perfectly. 

This era of memes merged smoothly with the Month of Blorbo. Can you believe blorbo from my shows is more or less purely a 2022 phenomenon? Granted, the original post happened in late 2021, but it was the new year by the time “blorbo” secured itself in our vocabulary. How did we even live our lives on Tumblr without the word “blorbo”? It’s impossible to even imagine at this point. 

Springtime dawned with the rise of Live Slug Reaction, which dominated the dashboard as everyone rushed to plop that shocked slug in the corner of their favorite gay moments from TV and film. And in May came a very important event that would define the rest of the year on Tumblr: the launch of Dracula Daily, Affectionately dubbed “tumblr book club,” the serialized email newsletter found a hugely involved following on Tumblr and spawned an infinite variety of memes, beginning with the iconic paprika recipes. 

The Summer of Morbius dominated Tumblr from June onwards, with everyone going bonkers with Morb-based puns, jokes about the film’s most ridiculous moments, and reblogging a single GIF somehow containing the entire movie that would crash your browser when it played on your dash..

The i love you x i love you y text post meme saw us to the end of the summer, and autumn came with the rise of the GOUGER. Or is it GOUGAR? Regardless, the strange but harmless creature took over everyone’s meme palette for a while, getting involved in increasingly silly scenarios. 

This free-for-all was interrupted by the death of Queen Elizabeth, an event that was solemn everywhere else. . But on Tumblr, of course, users swamped the dashboard with Queen Liz-related memes and commentary. And crabs. There were quite a lot of those.

Later, in September, the Try Guys saga unfolding on Twitter and YouTube filtered over to Tumblr in the form of the “lost focus and had a consensual workplace relationship” meme, with Tumblr users casting various favorite co-worker ships in the roles of the controversial real-life pairing. 

And finally, closing out the year, the meme you’ve all been waiting for: the one and only Goncharov (1973). Just in case you’ve been living under a rock, Goncharov is a movie borne out of the magic combination of a misprinted shoe label and Tumblr’s fertile imagination. Thanks to a fake movie poster by user @beelzeebub, which gave names and faces to the characters, Tumblr ran absolutely wild, churning out analysis, fanart, and even fanfiction at an astounding rate. This was by far the meme to win 2022: it gained coverage all over the internet, including the freaking New York Times, and even Scorsese himself acknowledged it. You did that, Tumblr. Goncharov forever, all hail the power of the Tumblr meme!

#year in review #memes #tumblr2022

[scuttling]

Flicker in the Dark - Jacob Black/Reader

Fandom: Twilight Saga Pairings: Jacob Black/Female Reader Word Count: 12,598 Tags: 18+, NSFW, Pining, Unprotected sex, Slightly aged up (Jacob is 20), Fix it fic Summary: My take on New Moon, if all of the characters were a bit more mature and Jacob got his girl. A/N: This is a third-person story that pairs Jacob with a girl who isn't Bella but who fills her role in the story; Bella doesn't exist in this universe because I find she's not as interesting to write as an original character, for me personally. The character has no name and no physical description, so treat her as an OC or a "reader," your choice there. :)

Keep reading below or link to AO3!

Bringing the idea of fixing the bikes to Jacob was the best thing she’s ever done: the best, and one of the dumbest, by far. 

They both have adult obligations now—she has class, and a part-time job, which are thankfully both online, and Jake works full time—so when the stars align and they’re free at the same time, they spend every moment in his garage like a couple of bored kids. They listen to music on his dad’s old radio, eat pizza and tacos standing up much more often than they should; Jacob isn’t twenty-one just yet, but they’re on the rez, so they sip beers sometimes, especially on the rare warm days where the sun shines into the garage and sweat prickles at their hairlines. 

He’s taller at twenty than he was when he was younger, broader and more filled out, like he’d said back on her birthday; she notices, sometimes, things like the tightness of his t-shirts stretched across his back, the way his jeans fit just, extraordinarily well. Those kinds of things you can’t help but notice, even if you’re emotionally, physically, and mentally unavailable, the way she is. 

He pokes fun at her age—forever a sore spot, especially when Edward is and will be twenty-two forever—but she catches him noticing her, too, sometimes, so she’s not a total embarrassment at least.

It doesn’t happen right away, like magic or anything, but hanging out in his garage does make her feel better; he makes her feel better, if she’s being honest with herself. He quiets the chatter in her brain, the anxiety, the self-doubt, and she smiles more when she’s with him, laughs more, gets out of her own head. She’s happier when she’s with him, too, bikes or no bikes—though the roar of the restored motorcycle engine certainly doesn’t hurt—and he’s good for her, there’s no denying that.

She remembers her dad’s advice, even more meaningful now that she’s moved out of his house and living on her own—sometimes, you gotta learn to love what’s good for you—and she even thinks she could, some days. 

That’s easy enough to say to herself, but so, so much harder in practice. She can tell Jacob is… interested, when they go to the movies, with the way he lays his hand on the armrest, palm up, in case she wants to hold it. Part of her wants to, really wants to; part just thinks about Edward and she clams up, can’t do it. She feels guilty, like she’s doing something wrong, even though he left her and not the other way around. 

She still loves him, will always love him, but Edward made his choice; she just wishes she felt free enough to make her own.

She feels guilty when they ride, too, because the one thing he’d asked of her was not to be reckless, and now she goes out of her way to find a rush wherever she can. Anything legal, be it motorcycles, rock climbing, running, skydiving, really, really big roller coasters—you name it, she’s done it, and though none of it ever worked as well as she’d hoped it would, she never stops trying. 

She knows better than to give herself over to things like drugs or binge drinking or meaningless one-night stands, but aside from that the limits to what she will try are almost non-existent. She loves the thrill of it all, loves feeling brave, feeling strong; In the end, she may wind up with a few cuts and bruises, but as long as she’s hurting no one but herself, she doesn’t feel too bad.

When she hurts Jacob, she feels awful, terrible, and she does hurt him—he’s so hurt for a while that he doesn’t want to see her, doesn’t even return her calls. She feels weak for the first time in a long time, like if she’d just been able to be what he wanted, to hold his hand, to kiss him, to get over herself, they both would have been happier. Now she just feels sad, and selfish, hurting the one person who has always been there for her, who’s always eased her pain.

She wants to respect his space, can’t bear the thought of hurting him more than she already has, but her anxiety gets the better of her; no amount of kickboxing or rock climbing has been able to take her mind off of him since that night at the movies, when he left in such a hurry. Even Edward has shifted to the back of her mind, though she has no idea when exactly that happened.

So she goes to him. Against his wishes. In the pouring rain. 

She’s so, so stupid.

He’s so, so shredded, even more so than usual; it’s the first thing she notices only because he’s soaking wet and shirtless and that makes it pretty obvious. The second thing she notices is his hair, no longer long and pulled back with a cord of leather, but cropped short, though inky black as always. The third thing she notices is the tattoo, a large, tribal design on his shoulder that looks well-healed even though she saw him less than a week ago.

She catalogs all of that, and then she remembers he’s avoiding her and that she’s here to ask for forgiveness (she’s willing to beg, but it’s sort of a last resort.)

She calls his name, but he doesn’t turn around at first, not until she’s right in front of him, fists balled angrily at her sides.  

“Jacob, I’m sorry… I’m sorry about the movie. Can we talk about it?” He huffs an unamused laugh, takes half a step closer; that kind of thing used to be playful, but now it seems almost menacing, between the muscles and the tattoo and the deepening frown on his face. 

“This isn’t about that. You–you need to leave. Now.” The tone of his voice leaves no room for argument… but then again, that’s never stopped her before. She steps closer too, more of a challenge than anything.

“Well if it’s not about that, what is it? What happened?” He turns away as if to leave and she reaches for him, fingers latching onto his wrist. She knows right away that when she tugs, and he turns, it’s because he let it happen; there’s no way anyone could force him to do anything now, not with how big he is, how strong, how solid beneath her hand. “Is it Sam? Did he get to you too?” 

“I was wrong about Sam. He’s helping me through it—just like he helped the others,” he says, but it sounds odd to her ears. If something was wrong, if he’d needed help, he would have come to her… right? “I can’t do this right now—you have to go. Please go.” 

Before, he was stern, but this time he’s pleading for her to leave, and that’s just not Jacob—they’d hash it out before he cut her off without so much as a word, instead of ghosting her and making his father lie for him and keeping secrets with Sam Uley.

“Jake,” she pleads too, but instead of tightening her grip on his wrist she brings her hand up to the nape of his neck, to brush through the short hair that lays there, drenched in rainwater. “Please don’t do this to me.” 

He closes his eyes like it pains him, and it very well might; she knows the similarities to the night Edward left are becoming almost too much for her to bear. 

Maybe that’s why she came here, after all, because she could, because at least she still knew where she could find him. Because even if he didn’t want to talk to her, at least she’d know he was okay. 

“I’m not doing this to you, I’m doing it for you. I’m not who you thought I was, I’m not good for you. You can’t be around me anymore.” 

Fuck that, she thinks immediately, because she is so absolutely tired of people telling her what she can and can’t do, what she’s strong enough for, what’s safe. 

She doesn’t want safe. All she wants is Jacob. 

“I decide what’s good for me; I decide,” she says, voice raised and rough, jabbing a finger in his direction, and he grabs both of her forearms and holds them between them. He looks like he wants to shake her, he’s so frustrated, but his grip isn’t tight. “You think you’re going to hurt me, or something? Because look at us, Jake.” Her gaze moves to his hands on her, holding her still but doing it gently, carefully. “It’s okay. You won’t hurt me, I know it.” 

He drops her arms like she’s burned him, like he didn’t even realize he was holding them, and takes two steps back, away from her.

“You’re right, I won’t—because you can’t ever come here again.” 

He turns and runs to Sam and the other guys, leaving her standing in the rain, soaked and alone, her stomach in knots. The chatter is back, the self-doubt, louder than ever now; if they could both do this, both leave her so easily, would she ever be enough for anyone?

She’s not sitting around her house moping about this, not again. She did that with Edward and it got her absolutely nowhere, so this time she resolves to just skip to the front of the line. She packs a bag for the trail and goes hiking, plans to take a long path deep into the woods, away from the bear attacks or whatever’s going on out there. Her dad would have her head if she walked headfirst into danger, and she knows better, anyway, isn’t going to actually risk her life just to get Rocky Mountain high. 

She hadn’t planned on risking her life, anyway, but how was she to know the formerly peaceful Laurent was back in Forks, red eyes and all, and that he was working with Victoria? That wasn’t on her supernatural drama bingo card, that’s for damn sure. 

She listens to him do the villain rambling for a moment, but irritation wins out over fear and she loses her temper, slips up and says that Edward is gone and he’s not coming back, and if he wants to kill her, well no one’s stopping him! 

He looks amused by her outburst, but the smile melts off of his face when an enormous black wolf steps out of the trees, followed by several others of all shades, shapes, sizes. She doesn’t get a chance to count them, just runs like hell in the other direction, but when she risks a look back they are going after Laurent with a precision she wouldn’t expect from wild animals just looking for dinner. 

She tells no one about the wolves—who would believe her anyway?—just runs back to her truck until she’s breathless, goes home and takes a steaming hot shower to rinse away the cold clamminess of his touch. She makes a cup of tea and changes into a t-shirt, a pair of shorts, then parks herself on the couch with her laptop for the rest of the night. 

Until the knock at the door that comes around 1 AM. 

It’s Jacob, and she’s so happy to see him that she forgets all about her day up until that point and wraps her arms around him, hugs him where he stands in the doorway. He hugs back, thank god, his embrace tight and warm and comforting, and then she ushers him in, offers to make more tea while they talk. 

“About the other day,” she begins, filling the electric kettle with water and plugging it in, but he cuts her off, panicked. 

“I wish I could explain,” he says, and he’s almost got those puppy dog eyes that always get him his way; he doesn’t even do it on purpose, just looks like that, and it’s incredibly hard to resist. “But I literally can’t.” 

“No, I know, I… I mean, I think I know.” She has a box of tea in her hand and she’s gesturing a bit wildly with it, so she sets it on the counter, walks closer to him, so there’s about a foot of space between them. “First rule of fight club is you can’t talk about fight club—wait, it’s not an actual fight club, right? Because you’d dominate.” 

He laughs, a real one, with his head thrown back, and she all but grins. There he is. Her Jacob. 

“No, it’s not a fight club, but you’re right. I can’t talk about it, I can’t tell you anything.” His tone of voice hurts her, because it’s clear this is something he wants, needs to share; she moves closer, eyes on his.

“And what if I guess? Is that against the rules?” He shakes his head fervently, rests his palm on the counter beside him.

“No, no—in fact, that’s exactly what I need you to do. Sam can’t stop you, and I know you, you’re smart, won’t stop until you figure it out.”  He reaches out with his other hand, tentatively, and links their fingers together like he did at the movies; when he brings their hands up to his chest, this time, she doesn’t pull away. “It would be so much easier if you knew.”

His face is so soft but so serious, his brow furrowed, and she squeezes his hand.

“I’m going to feel really silly if I’m wrong, but I don’t think I am. I’ve been working on it all night.” With her free hand, she pulls her phone out of her pocket, shows him the same screen she has up on her laptop in the other room. It’s a list of all the facts she has, her own speculation, and finally, in size 42 font, one very important eight-letter word. “You said before that Sam was collecting disciples—a pack of them, Jacob, right?” 

“Yes. Fuck,” he breathes, and though she’s heard him say it in the garage many times, this one is special because it means she’s right. He slides down to a seat on the tile floor, looks so relieved it makes her chest feel tight, and she kneels in front of him, hands on his bare shoulders. 

“You’re a werewolf, Jake, just like the legend—your tribe is descended from wolves. Tell me I’m wrong.” 

He doesn’t say a word, and at first she’s afraid she is incorrect, but then he reaches out and pulls her close, crushes her to his body. He breathes hard into her hair, holds her tightly, and she can’t help it, she cries, hot tears leaving tracks down her cheeks.

He brings his hands there after a moment, wipes the tears away with his thumbs, then holds her face like she’s something precious, lips turning up into a half-smile.

“Thank you. I knew you could do it.” He tips forward, presses their foreheads together, moves his hands to her waist. “You don’t know how badly I wanted you to know.”

“Oh, Jake. I’m sorry—I should have caught on faster. It’s obvious, when you put everything together, when you… You know. When you’ve seen what I’ve seen.” He nods his head and swallows, presses his fingertips into her side. She shifts closer, or he does, maybe they both do, so their breath mixes between them, soft and warm.

“It’s okay, you’re here now. You’re here, it's okay,” he repeats, and she pushes fingers through his hair, softer now that it’s dry. 

“I’m here, and I don’t have to stay away.”

They don’t quite kiss, because she’s still nervous, maybe even more so now—they were so close to being separated, and now that he’s back in her life, in her house, she doesn’t want to risk breaking this delicate, fragile thing between them. His mouth just brushes over hers, more a swipe than a press of lips, and she turns her head so the rest of it catches her cheek instead. 

He sighs, but he’s not upset, and he lifts a hand to smooth through her hair before dropping it altogether. 

“I should go,” he says, but she can’t bear the thought of losing him again already. She stands when he does, takes his hand the way he did before. 

“Can you stay the night? Please?” She squeezes his fingers, tries her hand at her own version of those sad puppy eyes. “I understand if you can’t, but I’d feel… I want you to,” she’s clear to say, and eventually, he nods. 

She makes up a bed for him on the sofa, intends to head upstairs when he’s comfortable; she doesn’t know what stops her, but she stretches out on the other end of the couch instead and they put on a movie, something black and white, volume low. She couldn’t say for sure who’s the first to fall asleep.

She’s the first to wake up, so she takes a quick shower, does some work, brews some coffee. He’ll probably head out the moment his feet hit the floor, so she prepares herself for that—she just hopes that the rest of his pack knows he’s there, that they aren’t worried, or frantically searching the preserve for signs of him like she would be. 

She asks him that when he pads into the kitchen an hour later, eyes sleepy, bedhead evident, and he pours a cup of coffee and sits across from her at the table. 

“Nah, they knew I was coming,” he assures with a sip. “They know by now that if they can’t find me, I’m probably here with you.” That makes her smile, though she looks down into her mug and tries not to show it. He takes a few more quick gulps despite the temperature and sets down his empty cup with a smack of his lips. “Speaking of the pack, I think you should meet them. We gather at Emily’s—that’s Sam’s fiancee—sometimes, and they’ll be there today.”

“Will they be angry that I figured it out?” she asks, genuinely curious. She wants to meet them, wants to know more about the group of guys Jacob is now supernaturally entangled with, but she’s not so sure a house of angry werewolves is somewhere she’s ready to be so soon after her last brush with death. He breathes a laugh and shakes his head. 

“They won’t be angry. They’ll probably be irritated with me, because I couldn’t just let you go…” Their eyes meet, and she thinks of reaching out to touch his hand across the table, though she doesn’t in the end. “But as for you, they’ll probably just be impressed.”

The pack is both impressed by her and slightly irritated with Jacob, but stern glances and eye rolls quickly turn to laughter and playful shoving, as they pile into Emily’s small but cozy kitchen and make introductions around a batch of fresh muffins.

She gets official confirmation on things she’d only read about—like their ability to hear each other’s thoughts when shifted, the accelerated healing, their speed, their power—right from the wolves' mouths, and they learn from her too, everything she knows about vampires like Laurent and Victoria. She doesn’t talk much about the Cullens, mostly because their secrets are not hers to tell, but she can see Jacob’s brain working as she mentions Victoria’s vendetta, as she shows the group the pale, silvery bite mark on her arm. 

“If she’s here, she’s here for me,” she tells them, and Jake tenses, his jaw tight, veins visible, shoots Sam a look that conveys they have a lot to talk about when she’s not around. 

Later, she suggests to Jacob that he take a walk with her, because she can tell how all of those stories have put him on edge. Together they amble slowly toward the beach, close but not touching, and this time she does take his hand, leans in so their forearms brush. 

“It’ll be okay,” she murmurs, tilting her head to look up at him. “You guys are strong, fast. You took down Laurent—I have no doubts you’ll get her too.” 

“Before she hurts you?” he says, staring ahead, voice rough because he’s been mostly silent all day, listening closely to her and taking everything in. “Because if she does…” 

“She won’t. The others are watching her,” she says, hoping like hell that’s still true, “and even if she finds me… I trust you to protect me.” He stops there, on the wet sand, and she turns toward him so she can see his expression, to get a better idea of what’s on his mind. 

“If they come back, I’m not allowed to fight on their land—I’d be breaking the treaty,” he says with a pained look. She understands the words he’s not saying: if they come back, I wouldn’t be able to protect you in your own home.

“They’re not coming back,” she whispers, because she can’t say the words any louder than that, even though they’re true.  “He made his choice, and that’s—that’s okay.” 

“Is it?” Jacob asks, leaning in, and she gets it, gets why; she hasn’t exactly been positive about Edward’s departure, how his choice affected her, took his family away from her too, and now suddenly she’s okay with it?

It isn’t sudden, though, not really. It’s been a gradual acceptance, something she’s been coming to terms with since the day he left. She knows Edward’s decision wasn’t made easily; she knows he didn’t leave because he didn’t love her, but because he loved her so much he put aside his feelings for her and did what he thought was right. 

He went about it all the wrong way, removing every trace of himself from her life, banning his family from communicating with her, taking her choices away, but in the end his heart was in the right place, and she’s found a way to respect that, despite everything. 

Maybe it’s just Jacob. He brought her out of her post-breakup shell, made her smile again, laugh again, feel important and wanted and cared for. Maybe he filled in the cracks of her broken heart so she could use it again, without the need for exhilaration and adrenaline to cover up the pain of what she’s lost; maybe it’s just Jacob, bright like the sun they so seldom see, special and rare and wild. 

“It’s okay,” she assures him, voice steady with her conviction. She raises their conjoined hands and presses her lips to his knuckles, just briefly, before dropping them back to her side. 

Jake nods, accepts her answer, and they walk further along the beach until the sun goes down in a hazy blend of blue and orange and red.

He offers to drive her home, and even though it’s impractical, and she’d usually put up a fight, she wants that extra time with him. Wants to be that close to him. She sits in the middle of the bench seat, neither up against him nor really on the passenger’s side, but close enough for Jake to throw an arm across her shoulders, and they listen to the radio and talk about his pack while cruising down the road. 

“I better go,” he murmurs before she can even unlock her front door, and she tries not to let her face fall; she’d been hoping he’d stay over again, or come inside for a little bit, at least. 

She must fail at controlling her expression, because Jacob smiles softly, like he’s pleased with himself, and leans in, brushing his fingers over the line of her jaw. 

“We’re patrolling tonight—got a vampire to kill. But I’ll call you tomorrow?” 

She nods beneath his touch, and he pulls back and turns to leave, jogging down the street and toward the forest that’ll lead him back to La Push.

He does call the next day, but it’s brief; Victoria’s back, just as Sam expected, so they’re running all night, all day, trying to catch her off guard, taking breaks only to eat and sleep when they absolutely have to. Jacob promises to check in when he can, but after three days with no contact—and a voicemail from her father about locals spotting wolves in the woods—she’s on edge again, less concerned for her own safety, more worried about Jake’s. 

She’s an absolute idiot for doing it—going to the beach, to the tall cliffs that loom over it—but she needs the rush again, doesn’t feel right when it’s just her own troubled voice in her head. She needs to hear the purr of an engine, the hum of a plane, the crashing of pure, white water against rocks… or maybe Jacob’s heartbeat. But the cliffs are the simple option at the moment, and all she can think about until she’s actually there, looking out over the ocean, the gritty scents of sand and salt in her nose. 

She takes several deep, long breaths. That’s the key to these things that bring her so much excitement—using all of her senses, so she’s not just herself but everything around her too. She needs to see the sun on the horizon, taste the spray of seawater and clean, crisp air. She needs to smell the damp earth, touch the frothy bubbles that lap at the shore, hear…

She hears a wolf, actually, howling solemnly in the distance, but doesn’t register the sound until after she’s already jumped. 

The waves are choppier than they’d appeared when she was looking down at them, and it knocks the breath out of her lungs when they crash into her body, pulling her down into the dark vastness of the icy sea. Her arms and legs move instinctively, fighting to bring her back to the surface, but the water is deep and heavy and she’s already so tired of trying. 

She’s so cold all she can feel is cold, her teeth chattering, so even when she hits her head on a boulder and it starts to bleed, she doesn’t realize what’s happened until everything turns black.

She’s warmer, suddenly, that’s all she knows, though the ground beneath her back is rocky and wet, uncomfortable. She thinks maybe it’s a blanket that feels so warm, but quickly realizes it’s Jacob above her, soaked to his bones, a sigh of relief passing his lips. 

“Oh thank god. Can you hear me?” He cradles the back of her head in his palm and helps her sit up, then presses his fingers tenderly to the sore bump beneath her hair. “Your head’s not that bad, but I bet it hurts.” 

“Hmm. Hurts,” she mumbles, her throat raw, temples throbbing. She’s cold and tired and thirsty, but ashamed above all else; maybe she really does need someone making the decisions for her, if this is the kind of stupidity she gets up to when she’s alone. “I’m sorry.” 

“It’s okay,” he answers quickly, and he runs his hands over her arms and legs, her neck, her face, checking for further injury. “I’m just glad you’re alright. The waves are bad today; you could have been swept away.” 

“I didn’t realize that until it was too late,” she admits sheepishly, and when he brings her closer she rests her cheek against his chest, feels tears stinging her already tired eyes. “I’m sorry, Jacob.” 

“It’s okay, I’m here. It’s okay.” His voice is as soft as his hands as they curve around her, holding her against him, and they sit like that for a couple minutes, until Sam runs over and tells him to get her home. 

He drives again, but this time she’s even more grateful, because there’s no way she could have done it herself. She feels so much at once—dumb and scared and childish, but also brave and calm, while somehow her mind races with thoughts of the wolves howling and Jacob’s hands in her hair. Her focus is shot, and even though she’s wrapped in one of Jake’s thick, fleece lined hoodies, she trembles, heavy and cold, as she peers out the passenger side window, watching the trees go by.

“Hundred and eight degrees over here,” Jacob says eventually, with a half smile, and she blinks for a moment before giving in; with a sigh, she scoots closer, wraps an arm around his waist. She can feel the heat of his body even through the layers they wear, and she shivers involuntarily at the pleasant but abrupt change in temperature.

“You still want me this close? Not afraid the bad decisions will rub off onto you?” It’s a joke, a self-deprecating one, and an apology all bundled together. “What I did was stupid, I know. I could have gotten really hurt, and you should have been out there with the pack, with Harry, not saving me.” 

He tilts his head, leans closer so his cheek rests against her hair.

“Well it wasn’t smart, but we all have our moments. And you couldn’t have known about Harry—don’t be too hard on yourself.” A long beat of silence passes, and she turns toward him, pressing her icy nose to his neck with another sigh.

“Mmm. You’re so warm. It must be nice, never getting cold.” 

“It’s a wolf thing,” he says with a shrug, but it’s not, not really, and she can’t let that stand. 

“Maybe, but trust me, it’s a Jacob thing too. You’ve always been warm.” She just sits there, breathes him in, lets him warm her hands and nose, so content she almost doesn’t notice when he pulls up in front of her house.

“This is better. Now that you know about me,” he says, tipping his face down, after he turns off the truck. She pulls back just enough to look into his eyes, to try to gauge his intent.

“But?” He swallows hard, looks away for a moment before returning to her face.

“You saw what happened to Emily. Sam got angry, lost it for a split second, and Em was standing too close. He’ll never be able to take that back.” He shakes his head, as if imagining the two of them in the same situation. What he could do to her. What she would think of him. “What if I get mad and I hurt you?” 

“You’re new to this—even if you are a natural,” she says, remembering a comment Embry had made when they’d last spoken. “You’ll learn how to control it, how to read the warning signs, and you’ll either stop yourself from turning or get somewhere safe. We’ll be okay,” she promises, resting her hand soothingly against his neck, and he sighs softly.

“Sometimes, I feel like I’m gonna disappear. Like one day it will be all wolf and no Jake.” He leans in, close enough that their noses just barely brush, and the way he looks down at her is something like… 

Yearning, she thinks to herself after a beat. It’s a powerful emotion, but she’s never seen it look quite so beautiful before. 

“You’re not going to lose yourself. I won’t let that happen.” 

“How?” he asks, bringing a hand up to cover hers, and she wets her lips, shakes her head to clear it; it’s swimming again, in this small space, so very close to him—especially when he’s looking at her like that.

“I’ll tell you all the time… how special you are to me.” She looks up, feels like she’s showing her soul to him, like this incident has stripped her down to bare bones and she’s letting him see her, once and for all. He stares into her eyes for a long moment, then leans in slowly, tentatively, and this time she doesn’t stop herself from meeting him in the middle, from pressing her mouth to his. 

She can actually feel the relief wash over him when she doesn’t reject his kiss, like he’s been tightly coiled and tense and can finally relax because she wants the same things, feels the same way.

She expects his lips to be warm, soft, but he is scorching against her skin, even more so when he moves his hand to her cheek in a gentle caress. With the palm against his hip, she pushes up his t-shirt, gets her fingers on his body, and they both gasp softly into the kiss, deepen it. 

“Jacob,” she sighs when they part for air; he seems okay, if a little shaky, but she feels flushed, eager, almost vibrating with the need to keep kissing him. She wants more, even though her throat burns like the last time his lips touched hers, when he forced the water out of her lungs and saved her life. 

That’s what he does best, her Jacob—like a flicker in the dark, he always pulls her away from the dangers of her own making and brings her back into the light.

“Is this real?” he asks, his breath a ghost on her lips; his other hand, on her lower back, pulls her closer to his body, and she turns her head and kisses the palm resting on her cheek. 

They kiss again, hands a bit less careful, hers sliding up his back, his weaving into her hair to control the tilt of her head. She gives in to it all, lets him set the pace, gripping him like a life preserver and letting his heat warm her from the inside out. She feels like she can’t get possibly close enough, wants to be pressed skin to skin, but she settles for sliding into his lap, ducking her head so she doesn’t hit it on the metal roof of the truck. 

He groans as she twists fingers into his hair, as she pulls him into her and feels the long, hard line of his body against hers. She kisses faster, harder, and he matches her fervor, wraps an arm around her waist and catches her chin with tight fingers. 

They kiss for a long time, and the cabin heats, windows fogging up as they share breath and saliva, as they murmur each other’s names like prayer. Her lips are red and raw when she finally needs to pause, and she rests her head against his chest and listens to the thunderous, wild beating of his heart. 

“Will you stay the night? Please?” she asks, voice a little broken—rough with need, and soreness from nearly drowning, and breathlessness caused by the most intense kiss of her entire life. 

Jacob nods, and he sets her carefully back on the seat, removes the keys from the ignition and climbs out of the truck. She slides out behind him, and he closes the door, takes her hand in his just like she did on the beach.

He locks the front door behind them when they’re finally inside—as if that will stop anyone we need to worry about, she teases with a soft laugh—and she takes the lead, walks up the stairs toward her bedroom with Jacob trailing behind. 

Despite his surreal body heat and the thick, warm sweatshirt he’d given her to wear, she’s still cold down to her bones, and wet like a drowned rat, so she pulls off her shoes and socks and sets them down by the radiator. Jacob watches her every move from a couple steps away, eyes lingering as she shrugs out of his hoodie, then pulls her damp sweater over her head. 

There’s nothing sexy or seductive about it, it’s not a striptease by any means, but he doesn’t look away when she’s down to her bra, and she doesn’t want him to. He bends down to take off his boots, to line them up next to hers, then bridges the distance between them and leans in for a deep, slow kiss. 

It’s not long before they both sink down onto the bed, and her fingers slip open the button of her jeans, then hesitate, wait at the button of his. She looks up at him, and the confirmation is all but written there, in the darkness of his eyes, the swipe of his tongue over his lips, but she needs to be sure. 

“I want you, all of you,” she murmurs, and then she brushes a hand through his hair, leans in to just rest her mouth against his. It’s delicate like the first time, but full of meaning, and he presses up into her kiss. “Do you want this?” 

“I want this. You. All—all of you.” He nods, licks his lips again, eyes softer but no less hungry, and she flicks open the button and kisses him like she did in the truck: hands on his body, in his hair, her breath all his. 

They don’t part, not really, just fall back against the pillows and tug at clothing, pressing kisses to throats and palms. His t-shirt drops to the bedroom floor, then her jeans and underwear, his, and the room is quiet except for the sounds of eager, wet kisses and soft, needy moans. 

She sits up, reaches back to unclasp her bra, and Jacob drags the strap down her shoulder, helps her take it off, leaving it somewhere in the bed; his mouth moves to hers, then down her neck, over her collarbone, and finally caresses each nipple with a gentle reverence that makes her ache all over.  

“You’re still sure?” he asks when she is shaking beneath his touch, strong arms wrapped around her back, and she nods and shifts up into his lap. 

When their lips meet, the kiss is hard, and she curls an arm around his shoulders, weaving a hand into his hair. They’re both panting when she leans up, guides him inside her, and when she sinks down it’s like a flash of tingling heat takes over her entire body. 

Jacob groans, holding her securely, thrusting up as she works her thighs above him. They kiss, deep and messy, graceless but passionate, her fingers tugging, his pressing hard into her skin. 

It’s not at all how she’d expected her first time to be; she’d imagined it would be with Edward, of course, and slow, but she can’t get enough of Jacob and it seems like he can’t get enough of her either. She’d imagined a cool, pale body above her, but it’s Jacob’s deep, rich, hot skin she presses her lips to, her fingernails against. She’d expected Edward’s hard, marble arms around her, and while Jacob is strong and firm he’s still soft, skin slick with sweat as they move together. 

“Jake,” she murmurs, the taste of him on her lips, his scent in her nose, woodsy, clean. “Jacob.” Her body trembles and he holds her tighter, presses his face into her neck. 

“I’ve got you.” She sighs happily at that, grabs his hair more roughly, rides him faster. 

“You’ve got me. You’ve always got me.” 

Jacob looks up at her, eyes fiery, liquid, then pulls her in with a hand on the back of her neck and kisses her like the first time—soft, nervous, sweet. The juxtaposition of that gentle kiss and his possessive grip makes her dizzy, and when he pulls back his face is all she can see, all she wants to see, all she needs.

“I’ve always got you,” he promises, his gaze tender, unflinching. “Always.”

He’s got her when he comes, holding her tightly with one thick forearm and dragging his free hand over her breasts, then lower, to rub her clit as she bounces herself to climax in his grasp. “Oh, god,” she breathes, voice like a shiver, and her fingernails dig half-moons into his biceps as they both slow, slow, slow, then stop altogether.

He eases them both down against the bed, arms around her, their legs entwined, and they catch their breath, just look at each other until the exhaustion of the day catches up to her. Her eyes flutter closed, and pressed so close to him, so warm, all she can do is sleep.

When she wakes, it’s still mostly dark, and she desperately needs to clean up in the bathroom and get a glass of water. Jacob’s t-shirt is the first piece of clothing she sees—or the first she wants to see—and she pulls it over her head and pads to the bathroom for a human moment—a very human moment indeed. 

She pauses, while washing her hands, to look over her reflection in the mirror. Rationally, she knows nothing has really changed, but at the same time everything has. 

The bathroom water is never cold enough to drink, so she treads down the stairs, across the kitchen, turns on the tap and lets it run until the water is icy and crisp. She fills a glass, takes a couple of sips, then almost drops it when a cool hand is suddenly pressed to her shoulder. 

It’s Alice, and she uses her other hand to catch the glass before it can hit the floor and shatter. 

“Relax. It’s just me.” Her eyes are soft, and it’s clear she is happy to see her, but there’s something else in her expression, something inquisitive. “You’re alright.”

“I’m fine. I’m… good, actually.” She shrugs, which bares her shoulder, in the large t-shirt she wears, that she’d forgotten she was wearing. She freezes—she knows how she must smell to Alice, like Jacob and like… Jacob—but her friend just shakes her head. 

“I couldn’t see you; well, I saw you jump off a cliff, and then you were gone. I thought you died.” 

“Alive and well,” she says with a tone that’s hoping for lighthearted, but… 

She has no regrets about being with Jacob, not one—she just hadn’t expected to be confronted with a vampire she once considered a sister almost immediately after. She doesn’t know what to say right now, how to act. Who to be.

“I was cliff jumping, recreationally. It was fun... for a minute.” Alice rolls her eyes, but it’s clear she’s happy she’s unharmed—though perhaps irritated by her tendency toward life-threatening idiocy.

“That doesn’t explain why I couldn’t see you, why your whole future went black.” Her golden eyes stare seriously, unblinking for a moment, and then she looks away. “Though maybe I owe that to the wolf in your bed.” 

Of all the nights for Alice to come back to Forks, she thinks, a suddenly uncomfortable pit in her stomach. Then she hears footsteps on the stairs.

“Not in her bed anymore,” Jacob says, voice low, from the doorway to the kitchen; he takes half a step forward, an aborted move, like he wants to put himself in between them. 

“This is Alice, Edward’s sister. Alice, this is Jacob,” she explains, trying not to focus on his shirtless torso, or the pained expression on his face. She blows out a deep breath. “It’s okay. She won’t hurt me.” 

“She’s hurt you before,” he counters, no doubt remembering every heartbroken, aching expression she’d worn in the months prior. He takes a step closer, so he is next to her, his forearm grazing hers, and Alice takes a step back. “I’d like to stick around, if it’s all the same to you.” 

He’s posturing, that much is clear, but she can't find it in herself to be irritated, because at least he’s giving her the option, letting her choose.

“I thought you couldn’t protect me here,” she says, turning her face up to look at him, and Jacob’s response makes heat pool low in her belly, just like the night before. 

“There is nowhere in this world I won’t protect you—treaty or no treaty.” 

She wants so badly to kiss him, but Alice is there, Alice, right in front of her after all this time, and she’s conflicted. Torn. He can tell, she knows, but he doesn’t take it personally, just reaches up to scratch his head, sighs. 

“So are more of you coming? Is–is he…?” 

“I came alone. And no,” Alice replies after a moment, but she’s looking at her instead, probably knows that he’s just saying what she’s too worried to ask. “He only calls in once every few months. Says he wants to be alone.” Jacob scoffs.

“Great. He wants to be alone, so you all leave her behind, unprotected? That red headed vampire is after her because of him.” 

That gets a reaction out of Alice, whose eyes darken protectively.

“Who, Victoria? I haven’t seen her.” She stares off into the distance, like she’s searching for memories, visions, sifting through what she’s seen and trying to piece together what she hasn’t. “Just like I didn’t see you get pulled out of the water. There’s a lot I haven’t seen, apparently,” she adds under her breath, and the other girl presses her lips together, sighs. 

Not the time or place for this discussion, and they both know it, but that doesn’t mean it’s avoidable for long. 

“So you can’t see around Jacob. The wolves,” she guesses. “I’ve been with them a lot lately.”

“With him a lot lately,” Alice corrects. Jacob huffs, but it’s not untrue, so she lets her think what she wants. Her silence must speak volumes, because Alice takes a deep, wholly unnecessary breath, and gestures toward the door. “Should I go?” 

“Please don’t,” she says quickly, nearly begging. It’s the first she’s seen of Alice in almost a year and she cannot let her leave as abruptly as she’d shown up. “If you could just give us a minute…” 

“Take two,” the vampire says, and it’s with a half-smile that turns into a smirk. “I’ll go Febreze the living room while I wait: it smells like wet dog.” She turns to leave, a bounce in her step that the other girl can’t help laughing at, shaking her head. 

She sobers up when Jacob turns toward her, takes a step that moves the both of them, so her back is pressed up against the kitchen counter. He looks so serious, and her heart beats for him everywhere. 

“Do you believe her? When she says she came alone?” he asks, and she tilts her head, nods softly. 

“Of course I believe her. She just had to make sure I was okay, that’s all. There’s… there’s nothing for them here.” 

Even as she says the words, she hopes they’re not true—hopes that, even if they really aren’t meant to be together, that she and Edward, she and the Cullens, can still be… Friends isn’t really a strong enough word, but she wants them in her life, potential bloody accidents be damned. 

“So if he came back,” Jacob says, leaning in closer, his lips hovering over hers, “you wouldn’t go to him?” His tone is light, but she understands the weight of his question, takes a moment to find the right words to answer it. 

“If he came back, I’d want to see him. Just like I want to see Alice.” She reaches out to touch him, his warm, bare skin, places her palm over his thumping heart. “But I wouldn’t go to him. Not like this.” 

It’s true, and she wants to say more, to promise him, reassure him, but just after she says it, the landline rings. Jacob sighs, his breath on her cheek, and reaches out a hand to answer it. “Hello?” The person on the other end speaks in a low tone she can’t make out, but she can see the tick in Jacob’s jaw, a hard set to his eyes. “He isn’t here right now, but that’s not who you really want, is it?” 

There’s another moment of conversation she can’t hear, and Alice walks into the room looking stunned; Jacob hands the other girl the receiver, and she looks from him to Alice and then speaks into the phone. “Hello?” 

“You’re alright.” 

It’s Edward, his voice cool and smooth but thick with emotion. It makes butterflies flutter around in her stomach, just like it used to. 

“I’m alright.” She doesn’t give him more than he asks for, doesn’t take more than he offers. She’s aware of two sets of eyes on her, feels more nervous than before, in her oversized t-shirt and sleep-mussed hair.

She’s glad he can’t see her and wonders exactly what that means.

“Good. Rosalie said Alice had a vision…” He trails off, but they both know what he’s not saying: everyone thought she’d given up and killed herself. She crosses her arms.

“The vision was incomplete. I’m fine. Stupid, but fine.” Edward huffs a laugh down the line, and she can imagine the exact cant of his mouth, the glimmer in his eye that always seemed to be reserved for her.

“You are many things, but stupid is not one of them.” There’s more he wants to say, she can tell; as a man of few words, many of their conversations were punctuated with heavy, meaningful silence. Part of her wishes she could see his face, at least. That always helped. “Who answered the phone? Jacob?”

She looks up at him involuntarily, notes the tightness of his mouth, his arms folded in front of his bare chest. 

“Yes, Jacob. He’s the one who pulled me out of the water, the one Alice didn’t see.” 

“Hmm. He still doesn’t seem to like me much.” Her lips turn up at that—understatement of the century—and she wonders if Jake can hear him too. Based on the stoic expression he wears, he either can’t, or he’s not paying attention. 

“No he does not.” A beat passes, then two. “You should call your family more often, go see them. They miss you.” 

“It’s difficult,” he says, swallowing, and she nods at no one. 

“I know, but don’t punish them. Please.” She knows how it feels, to be totally cut off from people she loves, to constantly wonder, always fear the worst; she doesn’t say it because she knows he knows.

“I’ll consider it, if you don’t go jumping off those cliffs any time soon.” She laughs softly, surprised at his humor; this was not how she would have ever anticipated a call like this to go, but she likes it. Likes them, like this. 

“Deal. Alice is looking at me like she’s going to steal the phone any moment,” she warns, which is putting it mildly. “So I’m going to put her on. You can call when it’s not life or death, you know,” she adds quietly. “It would be nice to hear from you. If you ever want to talk.” 

She doesn’t know if he responds, because Alice takes the receiver, winds the cord around her arm, and scolds her brother with love in the way only a sister can manage. 

While they talk, she walks toward Jacob, then past him, toward the staircase, but she takes hold of his hand as she goes, and he follows just like the night before. This time, he closes the bedroom door behind them. 

“I’m sorry this happened like this,” she says, sitting down on the bed, one leg beneath her and the other hanging over the edge. “I’m not sorry Alice is here, but I’m sorry that’s what you woke up to. If you were… worried.” Jacob takes the space next to her atop the rumpled duvet. 

“I was worried when I smelled a bloodsu- vampire,” he corrects quickly, “and you weren’t beside me.”

“I’m sorry,” she says again, this time leaning closer. “But thank you for giving me the phone, letting me talk to him. I’m sure that wasn’t easy.” He shrugs, like it was no big deal, even though she remembers how angry he’d looked at the sound of Edward’s voice. 

“I almost didn’t. I mean, technically, he didn’t ask for you.” She rolls her eyes—definitely guy logic—then stands up, scoops his jeans off the floor and hands them over to him. Her face heats at the memory of removing them in the first place, but she snaps out of that for her own sake and grabs fresh clothes, steps into the bathroom to make herself presentable.

When she’s done, she heads back to her bedroom, where Jacob is now clad in jeans and boots, sitting shirtless on her bed. She deposits the borrowed t-shirt onto his lap, and when he thinks she’s not looking he brings it to his nose, inhales long and slow, before pulling it over his head.

That action does things to her, and she wishes for a moment that she had his senses, so she could smell the two of them the same way he does, their scents deeply saturated and blended together.

They head downstairs when they’re both dressed, and while he rummages in the refrigerator for something to make them for breakfast, she treads into the living room and sits down next to Alice on the couch. 

“So,” Alice says, and then she gestures to a cup of tea. The other girl picks up the mug and thanks her, brings it to her lips. “How long has that been going on?” 

She feels her cheeks heat, and she hides behind another sip of tea. 

“Really? I haven’t seen you in almost a year and that’s what you want to talk about?” 

“Oh, forgive me for being curious about what it’s like to date a werewolf when last I saw you were grieving the loss of my brother.” Alice’s tone is more playful than it would seem, and her eyes smile even if her lips don’t. 

She always knew that Edward wasn’t telling the truth when he said he didn’t want her. He just couldn’t bear it, knowing that being with him put her in so much danger, caused her so much pain. She knew it was worth it, but if he didn’t… there’s nothing she could have done to change his mind, she knows that now. She can’t feel guilty for moving on when it’s exactly what he’d wanted her to do in the first place. 

“Okay, you’re right. Let’s talk about how I’m going to comb the woods, find Victoria, and rip her into confetti for threatening to hurt you.” 

“You don’t have to do that,” Jacob says, walking into the room with… a cup of tea. He looks over at the mug in her hand, then sets the one he brought her down on the table without a word. “The pack’s got it covered.” 

“All due respect, but if the pack had it covered, she wouldn’t be a threat anymore, would she?” Alice tosses over her shoulder. The other girl sets her tea down and sighs. 

“Alright, can we not do this? The age-old vampires versus werewolves thing? Especially if I’m in the middle of it. Maybe you guys could work together for a change; Alice can’t protect this part of the territory all by herself.” She picks up her drink—a drink, the one Jacob made, this time—and takes a long sip, looks up at them over the rim of the mug. 

“The pack could help, if you give us the authority to amend the treaty,” Jacob says to Alice, though he’s kind of looking at the ceiling, his arms crossed. “But wherever she is, I’ll be.” 

“You can’t be with her every second,” Alice counters, and her exasperation makes it  sound like an argument she’s had before. “It’s not good for either of you and could put her in danger; if Victoria picks up on it, she’ll be able to use your scent to track her anywhere. Trust me, yours is a lot stronger than hers is, and it’s all over her.” 

She thinks Jacob makes some kind of noise, like a low growl in the very back of his throat, but it’s hard to hear. Alice raises her eyebrows like she’s trying not to roll her eyes. 

The three of them discuss potential ways to coordinate with the pack, and Alice mentions calling in Emmett and Jasper to see if they could help with the search; the sooner Victoria is gone, the better, is the general consensus, and Jacob thinks he can get Sam on board with that as well, even if it means more Cullens coming back to town. 

She finishes both cups of tea, then a plate of eggs and toast Jacob put together from the bare-bones contents of her kitchen—she reminds herself to make a shopping list, then absently wonders if she’ll have a grand escort to Trader Joe’s. 

“I’ll make some calls while you’re gone,” Alice says as she is taking her last bite; she looks up from her plate, confused, and Alice waves a hand. “I saw a glimpse of you at the grocery store, but then it went dark; I assume that means he’s going with you.”

“I thought about it for a split second, as a joke,” she clarifies with a huff of laughter. “I don’t think I need a bodyguard in the produce aisle at eight AM.”

“Better safe than sorry,” Alice and Jacob say, at the same time, and her lips twitch in amusement. 

Looks like they’re not so different, in the end.

She gives in and allows Jacob to drive her to the supermarket, though not without a long look from Alice as he walks her to the truck with his hand on the small of her back. 

They breeze through the store thanks to the list in her head—she buys a little more than she usually would, because it seems like Jacob plans to be around. She likes the thought of that even more than she’d expected, likes choosing things solely because she knows he’ll enjoy them.

“I think we should talk about last night,” Jacob says, voice low, when they’re nearly back to her house. She cringes internally, because that’s never a sentence a girl wants to hear after a night like that, and he clears his throat. “I know cliff jumping ended up being kind of traumatic for you, and it didn’t feel like it last night, but if I took advantage…”

He looks over at her, his expression pained, and she shifts closer and wraps her hand around his forearm.

“God, no, Jake—that’s not what happened.” He brings the truck to a stop in her driveway, puts it in park, and she presses her palm to his cheek so he’ll focus on her instead of fixing his gaze out the window. “I wanted everything, every moment. I still want it,” she murmurs, and he looks over her face like he’s still not quite sure he believes it.

“You do? Even after… after you spoke to him, and everything?” It’s a fair question, and again, one she answers very carefully.

“I think we needed to talk, he and I, but it didn’t change anything. You’re the one who changed everything,” she admits softly, tentatively, wetting her lips. She hopes her eyes convey the certainty her voice can’t seem to. “Do you want to kiss me?” she breathes, leaning closer, her fingers winding a path through his hair, and he nods his head and presses his mouth to hers. 

She gets up on her knees so she can be closer to him, but she doesn’t climb into his lap like before—she does have some self-restraint, despite what it may seem. She curls one arm around the muscles of his back, pulls him in for more contact with the hand in his hair, and it’s a few minutes later when she remembers they’ve got bags of perishable groceries in the back and a vampire with excellent acoustic abilities just inside her home. 

She pulls back, smiles a little at the soft, unfocused look on his face, then runs her hand down his chest before lifting it away entirely.

“I know we’re kind of at DEFCON 1 right now, but more of that a little later would be nice.” 

“Hmm. Very nice,” he agrees with a nod, his voice slightly rough, and he turns off the ignition and carries all of her groceries into the kitchen with one strong arm. 

Emmett and Jasper do come back, with Rosalie and Esme, to her delight and Jacob’s discomfort. Between the pack, who comes to get the vampires’ scents so there’s no friendly fire, and the family, who split time between her house and the one they left behind, the place is a revolving door of the supernatural for the next few days. 

All of them take turns watching over her house at night, while the others patrol the woods. She catches up with everyone she’s been separated from—even Jasper gives her a crushing hug, so at least the time away was good for something—and it’s wonderful, but it means there’s not much time to be with Jacob aside from planning sessions and the occasional quick check in. The most time she spends with him is when they attend Harry’s funeral, something somber and intimate, with ethereal music and a glowing campfire and endless stories about the Clearwater line. 

She is introduced to Leah and Seth, Harry’s children, and while Seth seems welcoming and friendly his sister is cold, standoffish—though not without reason, she soon learns from the pack. 

“She’s not always like that… mostly just when she’s around Sam,” Embry says where they stand on the edge of the forest, away from the thick smoke that burns her very human eyes. She looks over at the pack leader at the mention of his name. “Now that she’s part of the pack, we have to live the Leah/Sam/Emily painfest all over again.” 

She turns back to him, to Quil, who’s standing beside him, and tilts her head, curious.

“I don’t think I follow—Sam left Leah for Emily?”

“Well, yeah, but it’s not what you think. He hates himself for hurting her, but he couldn’t help it. Emily was ‘the one.’” Quil says it almost sarcastically, with air quotes for emphasis, and she frowns.

“The one?” She doesn’t mean to sound skeptical, but these days she’s not as big a fan of providence and destiny as she used to be.

“Sam imprinted on Emily. It’s kind of like… soulmates, but bigger. Cosmic. They were literally meant to be together.”

“Like fate,” she says, filling in that blank, and then a large, warm hand is splayed across her back, fingertips pressing into the fabric of her dress. 

“We make our own fate around here,” Jacob says tightly, and she looks up, regards him curiously. He’s not just upset about Harry, or Victoria… there’s got to be something else making his jaw tense, his eyes hard. “And I think that’s more than enough of the pack soap opera for tonight. Are you ready to go home?” 

He turns his gaze to her, and it softens, for which she is grateful; he is her guardian on duty tonight, and despite the solemn evening—or maybe because of it—she wants to spend the night as close to him as she possibly can.

She nods, and after they say their goodbyes he walks her to the truck, opens the door for her, closing it carefully when she’s safely inside. He takes the spot behind the driver’s seat—his usual, now—but doesn’t drive straight to her house like she expects. 

“Ice cream?” she asks when he turns off the engine outside of a mom and pop shop selling sundaes, cones, and shakes. She exits the car at his indication, and the two of them walk hand in hand up to the illuminated window that says Order Here. An older couple is ahead of them, pointing at the chalk menu board, and Jacob leans in to speak in a hushed tone. 

“This place was Harry’s favorite. You like chocolate, right?” 

“Has anyone ever answered ‘no’ to that question?” she asks softly, playfully, and it works as intended, lightens the mood just enough to bring a brilliant smile to his painfully beautiful face. “I think this is a wonderful way to remember him, Jake.” She wraps a comforting arm around his, and Jacob nods, lips pressed together, eyes sad.

“Just kind of feels right.” 

He orders for them when it’s their turn, two waffle cones with two scoops of chocolate ice cream each, and they sit at a picnic table on the side of the building, eating their tributes with heavy hearts and looking up at the stars.

The ride home is quiet, contemplative, at least for her; by the time they arrive she has been running through thoughts of mortality, finality, how short life is and how very precious. 

These are all normal thoughts for a person to have, and certainly after a celebration of life like the one on the reservation tonight, but she thinks seriously for the first time about Jacob and his desperate need to protect her, the way he puts himself in danger—stupidly, recklessly, completely—every day to keep her safe.

When they’ve made it inside, she exhales deeply, looks up into earnest, curious eyes, and wraps her arms around him, presses close so she can bury her nose in his clothing.

She breathes him in long and slow, his usual scent of crisp air and rain and oak dulled by the smoke of the bonfire, and then his hands are in her hair, tipping her face up for a decadent, passionate kiss. 

God, how is he so good at this? she thinks as he sips at her lips, glides his own down the tender line of her throat. She sighs and grabs for his arms, something to ground her as her desire threatens to take over, to leave her a whimpering, begging mess beneath his hands. 

Jacob turns them so she’s got her back to the kitchen table, sets her on top of it, and she parts her knees for him, pulls him closer. Her fingers itch with the need to touch his skin, so she tugs at the hem of his shirt and gets her hands beneath it, skims them over the taut muscles of his bare back. 

“I can take it off,” he murmurs against her neck, and she nods breathlessly and helps him pull it over his head. His hands bracket her hips, palms flat on the table, and her arms curve up around his back, bringing him closer; she kisses him eagerly anywhere she can reach—his throat, shoulders, face, everywhere.

She whispers his name into his own skin, presses her lips to his biceps, scrapes her teeth over the lobe of his ear, and he shudders at her touch, tilts his head to look up at her, his eyes dark and almost… dangerous.

What does it say about her, that she finds that look so goddamn attractive?

“I’m sorry, I—I need a minute,” he says, panting through gritted teeth, and she lets her hands fall away, leaning back a little to give him space to breathe.

“Take all the time you need,” she assures him calmly, patiently. It’s the first time she’s ever seen his wolf so close to the surface, and she’s completely unafraid, would hold him and help him ride out the tension in his body if she thought he would let her. “It’s just us, Jake, just me and you.” 

“Just us,” he repeats, his fists clenching and unclenching, taking a long breath with his eyes closed. She breathes with him, has always found that helpful when she herself is overwhelmed, and after a few moments he presses closer and she runs a soothing hand over his chest. “I’m okay,” he says eventually, leaning in slowly for a kiss as though he’s afraid it will be rejected. She brings her hands to his face, deepens it, so it’s still soft and easy but with enough meaning behind it to convey her thoughts. 

“I know,” she murmurs, just to be certain he believes her. “You did so good; so good, Jake.” He nods, pulls back a little so he can look into her eyes. 

“It’s not that I can’t control it, I can, but…” He looks away for a moment, swipes his tongue over his lips. “The instincts are so strong and I don’t always want to fight them. Sometimes when I’m with you, I want to let the wolf win.” He says it like he’s ashamed, and she puts her arm around his shoulders and brings him down for another kiss, this one just a gentle press of mouths.

“I understand that more than you think I do.” His breath on her lips makes her crave more of his heat, but she knows it has to be slow now, or he’ll get too in his head and never let himself enjoy their night together. “I may not be supernaturally inclined, but sometimes making decisions with my body is all I want to do. Especially with you,” she adds, just a sigh between them, then touches their foreheads together. 

They stay like that for a moment, embracing in their own way, until he initiates a kiss that is so thorough it makes her toes curl. She brings her hands to his waist, guides him closer, and he rests a broad palm at the base of her throat and kisses her, again, and again, and again. 

Her arms curl around his body the second they separate for air, and he lifts her from the table, carries her up the stairs with an ease that makes her long for more frequent displays of his strength. 

Getting his clothes off is quick enough, since he’s already shirtless, and his hands are tender and gentle as he sweeps her hair away from her neck, pulls down the zipper of her dress, slides it off her bare shoulders. 

Neither of them bother to pull back the covers, simply lay back on the bed, her knees apart again, Jacob hovering between them and letting his eyes move over her like he’s committing her body to memory. It makes a wave of heat rush through her, and since tonight is less hurried she does the same, lingers over every curve of muscle, every sharp line of bone. He leans in, lays an arm behind her head, glides his lips over her jaw, her cheek, her mouth.

“I was right, before,” she says after another satisfying kiss, letting her fingers press into the flesh of his hips. He looks into her eyes, tilts his head curiously, and she smiles a little, can’t help herself. “You really are beautiful.” 

Jake breathes a laugh, even blushes a little, then kisses her until they’re both panting; her fingertips press harder when he pushes inside, then glide up his back to keep him close while the two of them move together. 

Jacob feels so different this way, is so much deeper, filling her in a way that makes it so she really can’t tell where she ends and he begins. He is heavy on top of her, but not uncomfortably so, and when her body shifts up the bed with every thrust it’s thrilling, incredible—she’s never felt so much in her life.

His face is serious, eyes focused, and she weaves her fingers into his hair and catches his lips in a kiss, moans into the end of it when he finds a spot inside of her that takes her breath away. 

“Oh, god, Jake.” He leans in for another kiss, deep and wet, nods against her lips. 

“You’re perfect—so perfect,” he huffs, breathless; he moves his hand to her hip, runs it over her stomach, then presses his palms to the bed and repeats his previous motion, over and over, her body coiling tight with pleasure. “Can’t believe I get this.” 

“We get this,” she corrects in a whisper, won’t let him think for one second that she’s not as completely in awe of him as he seems to be of her. She skims her nails over his lower back, his ass, tightens her thighs on either side of him and tips her head back just as he makes her come. “Don’t stop, Jake, please,” she whines, shaking, holding him so tightly with her entire body—she never wants it to end, never wants to be separated from him again, and he agrees, if the way his body presses down on hers is any indication. 

“Can’t stop… need you,” he groans, pushing her leg up further, so he feels almost impossibly thick and deep. Her arms wrap around his back, pulling him closer, holding him there as he ruts into her, scorching flesh pressed against flesh. 

“Yes, oh—”

Before she knows it she’s quaking again, gasping when he brings his teeth to her throat, scrapes them over her throbbing pulse. He growls in her ear, a deep, low, animalistic rumble she can feel in her stomach, then comes inside, claiming her with a broken, raspy, “mine.”

He lays half on top of her, half on the bed, after, their skin soft and damp with cooling sweat. She can’t stop looking at his face, his dark eyes, sharp jaw, and he cups her cheek with a gentle palm and gazes just as intently at her. 

“Come here,” she murmurs, a soft smile on her lips, and he kisses her slowly, makes her sigh with a pleasure so complete—mentally, physically, spiritually—it feels like she’ll never be the same. 

He gets up after a moment, comes back with a glass of water and a towel, and helps her clean up well enough to hold her over until she’s ready to get out of bed. She pulls the covers back while he’s gone, slides in between the cool sheets, and he follows her lead, pressing close to her beneath them.

“Are you upset you didn’t imprint on me?” she asks carefully, propping herself up on her elbow and using the other hand to run fingers through his hair. “I noticed that when the guys were talking about it, you got kind of tense.” He shrugs slightly before shaking his head.

“No, not upset… I was just so sure you were meant for me; I really thought it would happen sooner or later.” She understands that, can picture him wishing and waiting for something that would never come to pass. So patient, her Jacob.

“Do you wish it had? Do you think it would make this more real?” Her hand moves from his hair to his collarbone, down his chest, over his stomach, so very low. “Because when I’m touching you like this… nothing has ever felt so real.” 

He presses her against the bed, hovers over her, kisses her breathless, and it goes without saying that he agrees with every word she says. She softens beneath him, tired and pleased, and he shifts into a more comfortable position, laying behind her, that she knows means sleep for the both of them. He drapes an arm over her, and she draws circles into his skin with her fingertips, feels his warm breath on her neck, closes her eyes and revels in the weight of him at her back.

“Anyway,” she whispers, one last thought on her mind before she succumbs to sleep, “I almost think it’s better like this, that we have to fight for each other. No help from fate—just your will and mine.”

A/N: I got my start in fandom spaces by writing Twilight fanfic fifteen years ago, but I never posted it because it was... bad. Last week was a crummy week for me, so I found comfort in watching New Moon, and I literally couldn't help myself from re-writing it in Jacob's favor. There's no Edward hate here, and he'll play a bigger role in the next part I have planned, but Jake took hold of me in this one and didn't let go.

#twilight #twilight saga #twilight saga: new moon #twilight fanfic #jacob black #jacob black fanfic #jacob black x reader #jacob black x female reader #jacob black x original female character

[youryurigoddess]

On love and sacrifices

There’s so much more to this scapegoating business and big sacrifices referenced in the Good Omens narrative than the literal goats. And they’re only getting bigger, louder, final.

But let’s take it slow and start with the beginning, quite literally — i.e., with the Good Omens 2 title sequence. As we follow Aziraphale and Crowley on their journey, the universe warps and their usual left and right side positioning switches during the magic show (not accidentally an act of trust and sacrifice required both from the angel and the demon). They stay so throughout the next scene, which is their little dance in the air, and after they seemingly get settled on the A. Z. Fell and Co.’s roof and back to normal, the flipped sky in the background suggests that something’s not quite right yet. In the central part of the shot looms a large, humanlike shadow of the Elephant Trunk Nebula.

The nebula is a part of a constellation called Cepheus, after an Ethiopian king from the Greek mythology who agreed to sacrifice his only daughter in order to appease the gods and end a local calamity started by her mother and his wife, Cassiopeia (talk about generational responsibility). With time and a delightfully ironic twist of fate, the name of said daughter, Andromeda, became more famous than that of her father. Although she was chained up to a rock and offered to the sea serpent Cetus, the girl was spotted by the warrior Perseus, casually flying over the sea — either on the back of the Pegasus or thanks to a pair of winged sandals — after his victory over Medusa. He fell in love on the spot, defeated the serpent (with the help of a magical sword or Medusa’s severed head, depending on the varying sources), and freed the princess. That’s not exactly where their story ends, but we won’t be getting into the rest here.

Not surprisingly, Neil has mentioned two parallel child sacrifice stories from the biblical context back in August. The first is one of the big ones — The Binding of Isaac. God's command to sacrifice Isaac, his only son, was a test of Abraham's faith. The angel of the Lord intervenes and provides a ram to be sacrificed in the boy’s place.

The second one isn’t nearly as popular, but you might have heard a variant of it in fairy tales or as the Law of Surprise invoked in The Witcher saga. In exchange for Israel’s victory over its enemies in battle, Jephthah had rashly promised God to repay the debt with the first thing seen on his return back home. The victorious warrior didn’t suspect to see his only child moving innocently "to meet him with timbrels and with dances" though. In horror, Jephthah covered his eyes with his cloak, but to no avail: ultimately, he was forced to honor his vow to God, and the girl was sacrificed. As grisly as it might look like in the Old Master’s paintings, it’s important to remember that human sacrifices weren’t limited to physical offerings only — Jephthah’s daughter might have been offered to God in the sense of officially shunning her family and dedicating her life to service instead, probably sequestered in a temple somewhere.

Interestingly, the main character of a big chunk of the Bible and the reason for the Second Coming happens to be THE most influential child sacrifice in the modern history. You know, a certain 33-year-old carpenter sent by his Heavenly Father to die on a cross for the sins of the mankind? Someone better call Aubrey Thyme ASAP.

Circling back to Aziraphale, he could be also seen as a representative of the concept of filial piety, since Eden willing to personally take a Fall not only for the humanity’s collective or individual transgressions, but the shortcomings of his Ineffable Parental Figure as well. Our favorite angel angel always fights for what is right and good, sure, but why would that be even a thing if God was truly omniscient, omnipresent, and omnipotent?

If Aziraphale’s medal is anything to go by, it looks like we might get an answer from the way it’s introducing another mythological narrative into the game, that is the story of Daedalus and Icarus. The most absorbing thing about this is the stark contrast to the recurring child sacrifice references for S3 mentioned in this post — Daedalus isn’t a father who wanted to sacrifice his son, it was his attempt to save him from imprisonment that ultimately drove Icarus to his death. The boy ignored his father’s explicit instructions, committing the grave and culturally universal sin of disobedience to one's parents that simply couldn’t go unpunished, one way or another.

But Icarus’s transgression could be seen both as high-flying ambition and striving for personal accomplishment as well as humanitarian sacrifice for knowledge and humanity’s advancement in general.

Similarly to a certain angel who left everything for what superficially seems like a work promotion, but is the ultimate act of love — both for his demon and the children they have been protecting and nurturing together for six thousand years. From the very Beginning, his white wings have been shielding everything he holds dear in this world.

#happy easter #child sacrifice #greek mythology #bible fanfiction #good omens #good omens meta #never skip the intro #peter anderson studio #easter eggs #nebula #archangel michael approves #sword fighting with snakes #prince and the serpent #supreme archangel aziraphale #bamf aziraphale #aziraphale needs a hug #aziraphale #crowley #yuri is doing her thing #daedalus and icarus #cepheus and andromeda #abraham and isaac #jephthah’s daughter #god and jesus

[ultimate-anime-tournament]

THE ULTIMATE ANIME TOURNAMENT BEGINS! featuring 384 shows spanning 60 years!

all matchups are listed below the cut, and the first polls will be going up shortly 👍

edit: made a google spreadsheet documenting all matchups and their wins/losses!

left side:

Majokko Megu-chan VS Soul Eater VS Turn A Gundam

Noragami VS Ranma 1/2 VS Shadows House

Captain Tsubasa VS Barakamon VS Ojamajo Doremi

Dr Ramune: Mysterious Disease Specialist VS Joshiraku VS Concrete Revolutio

Maya the Honey Bee VS Bocchi the Rock! VS Senyuu.

Angel Beats VS Golden Kamuy VS Initial D

Lucky Star VS Mononoke VS Assassination Classroom

Go! Princess Pretty Cure VS Shirobako VS Space Pirate Captain Harlock

Golden Time VS Death Note VS Ao Haru Ride

Food Wars VS One Piece VS Space Battleship Yamato

The Disastrous Life of Saiki K VS Blood Blockade Battlefront VS Poco's Udon World

Space Patrol Luluco VS Yu-Gi-Oh! VS Your Lie in April

Slam Dunk VS One Punch Man VS Candy Candy

Doraemon VS Akame ga Kill VS Black Clover

Space Dandy VS Sazae-san VS Bloom into You

Show by Rock!! VS Pokémon VS Restaurant to Another World

Uchouten Kazoku VS Tetsujin 28 VS Miracle Girl Limit-chan

Sally the Witch VS March Comes in Like a Lion VS Ground Defense Force! Mao-chan

Day Break Illusion VS Heidi, Girl of the Alps VS Zombie Land Saga

Yuri is My Job! VS Kimagure Orange Road VS The Seven Deadly Sins

Akudama Drive VS Future Boy Conan VS Land of the Lustrous

BanG Dream! VS Rin-ne VS Serial Experiments Lain

Snow White with the Red Hair VS Juni Taisen: Zodiac War VS The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya

Ranking of Kings VS Osomatsu-san VS Odd Taxi

Flying Witch VS Bodacious Space Pirates VS Shugo Chara

Yuki Yuna is a Hero VS Super Dimension Fortress Macros VS Spy x Family

Magic Kaito 1412 VS Kaguya-sama: Love is War VS Kingdom

Aikatsu VS Cells at Work VS New Game!

Blue Exorcist VS Sound! Euphonium VS Ashita no Joe

Re:Zero VS My Hero Academia VS Pani Poni Dash

Ouran High School Host Club VS Dragon Quest: The Adventure of Dai VS Children of the Whales

86 vs Erased vs Demon Slayer

Mashle vs Panty and Stocking with Garterbelt vs Bakemonogatari

Skip and Loafer vs Shiki vs My-Hime

Laughing under the Clouds VS Naruto VS Sakura Wars

The Vampire Dies in No Time VS Dragon Ball GT VS Fist of the North Star

Shadowverse VS Blue Lock VS Tamako Market

Legend of the Galactic Heroes VS Lycoris Recoil VS Tanaka-kun is Always Listless

Agatha Christie's Great Detectives Poirot and Marple VS Sonic X VS Samurai Champloo

Cutie Honey VS Tokyo Revengers VS Parasyte

Kaiji VS Deca-Dence VS Clannad

I'm the Villainess, So I'm Taming the Final Boss VS Digimon Adventure VS Charlotte

Kageki Shojo!! VS Majuu Senshi Luna Varga VS Stars Align

Love, Chunibyo, and Other Delusions VS Gintama VS Kakuriyo: Bed & Breakfast for Spirits

Bubblegum Crisis VS Air VS Made in Abyss

Touch VS Fire Force VS Love Live! Sunshine!!

The Adventures of Tom Sawyer VS Sket Dance VS Himitsu no Akko-chan

Zatch Bell VS Little Witch Academia VS Gal & Dino

Parappa the Rapper VS Life with an Ordinary Guy Who Reincarnated into a Total Fantasy Knockout (Fabiniku) VS Talentless Nana

Nyanbo! VS Bomberman Jetters VS Do It Yourself!

Kochikame: Tokyo Beat Cops VS Nobody's Boy Remi VS Mobile Suit Gundam: The Witch from Mercury

Chika Ichiban VS Squid Girl VS Anne of Green Gables

Ikkyuu-san VS The Case Study of Vanitas VS Free!

Birdie Wing: Golf Girls' Story VS Chihayafuru VS So I'm a Spider, So What?

Aggretsuko VS Hakumei and Mikochi VS Mou Ippon

What's Michael VS Kimono Jihen VS Kiratto Prichan

Mushishi VS Uma Musume VS Jojo's Bizarre Adventure

Sabikui Bisco VS Dorohedoro VS The World Ends With You: The Animation

Un-Go VS The Case Files of Jeweler Richard VS Tropical-Rouge! Pretty Cure

Sonny Boy VS Tiger & Bunny VS Black Butler

A Place Further than the Universe VS Lupin III (all Parts) VS Tsuritama

Tari Tari VS Maoyu VS Buddy Daddies

Horimiya VS Akiba Maid War VS Cap Revolution Bottleman

Helck VS Play it Cool, Guys VS Revolutionary Girl Utena

right side:

Gegege no Kitarou VS Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood VS Urahara

D.Gray-Man VS Bakuman VS Devilman

Violet Evergarden VS Death Parade VS Speed Racer

Skull Face Bookseller Honda-san VS Mazinger Z VS Planetes

Aim for the Ace! VS Futari wa Pretty Cure VS Saiunkoku Monogatari

Comic Girls VS Galaxy Express 999 VS Dr. Slump

Wedding Peach VS Ronja, the Robber's Daughter VS Haikyuu!

Saint Seiya VS Mahoutsukai Chappy VS Yuri on Ice

Hikaru no Go VS Yona of the Dawn VS Mega Man NT Warrior

Black Lagoon VS Nichijou VS Space Cobra

Ms. Koizumi Loves Ramen Noodles VS Stop! Hibari-kun VS She and Her Cat: Everything Flows

Space Brothers VS Gakuen Alice VS Dragon Ball Z

AKB0048 VS Kino's Journey -The Beautiful World- VS Musashi no Ken

Flip Flappers VS Hamtaro VS Daily Lives of High School Boys

Another VS Descending Stories: Showa Genroku Rakugo Shinju VS Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon

Gurren Lagann VS Hana no Ko Lunlun VS City Hunter

Nadia: The Secret of Blue Water VS Welcome to Demon School, Iruma-kun VS To Your Eternity

Kiteretsu Daihyakka VS Monthly Girls' Nozaki-kun VS Noir

Bungo Stray Dogs VS Soreike! Anpanman VS Moomin

Hajime no Ippo VS Paranoia Agent VS Mobile Suit Gundam

Maison Ikkoku VS Yuru Camp VS Sherlock Hound

Great Pretender VS Kabaneri of the Iron Fortress VS World Trigger

Little Princess Sara VS Ghost Sweeper Mikami VS Keep Your Hands off Eizouken!

My Next Life as a Villainess VS Kirby: Right Back at Ya! VS Air Gear

Saint Tail VS Haibane Renmei VS Astro Boy

Crayon Shin-chan VS Tokyo Ghoul VS Hell Girl

Heaven's Design Team VS Neon Genesis Evangelion VS Kiznaiver

Servamp VS Akane-chan VS Yo-kai Watch

The Vision of Escaflowne VS Tsurune VS Sk8 the Infinity

The Promised Neverland VS Hime-chan no Ribbon VS Fruits Basket

Urusei Yatsura VS Dr. Stone VS Shaman King

Star of the Giants VS Cardcaptor Sakura VS Angelic Layer

Berserk VS Kodocha VS Ping Pong The Animation

Yu-Gi-Oh! 5D's VS Boys over Flowers VS Otherside Picnic

Monster VS Sgt. Frog VS K-On!

Aria VS The Rose of Versailles VS Beyblade

Natsume's Book of Friends VS Planet With VS Detective Conan / Case Closed

Nodame Kantaabire VS Kyou Kara Maoh VS Mobile Suit Gundam: Iron-Blooded Orphans

Duel Masters VS Shounen Ninja Kaze no Fujimaru VS Hunter x Hunter

Mahou Shoujo Lalabel VS Carole & Tuesday VS Powerpuff Girls Z

Big Windup! VS Heartcatch Pretty Cure! VS Fighting Foodons

Gosick VS Ace Attorney VS Inazuma Eleven

Given VS The Prince of Tennis VS Cowboy Bebop

Code Geass VS Teppen!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! VS FLCL

Wolf's Rain VS Reborn! VS Princess Tutu

Magic Knight Rayearth VS Romeo x Juliet VS Oshi no Ko

Gankutsuou: The Count of Monte Cristo VS Bakugan VS Jujutsu Kaisen

Yu Yu Hakusho VS Love Live! School Idol Project VS Trigun

Kimba the White Lion VS Waccha Primagi VS Toradora

Ultra Maniac VS Mahou Sensei Negima VS Shoujo Kageki Revue Starlight

Visual Prison VS Steins;gate VS Inuyasha

Vinland Saga VS Assault Lily Bouquet VS Anohana: The Flower We Saw That Day

Pop Team Epic VS Gingitsune VS Tokyo Mew Mew

Blue Period VS Higurashi When They Cry VS Fairy Tail

Chargeman Ken VS Shin Sekai Yori VS Chainsaw Man

Beyond the Boundary VS Silver Spoon VS Hyouka

Stitch! VS Mobile Suit Gundam SEED VS Symphogear

Kuroko's Basketball VS Pokemon Horizons VS Gatchaman Crowds

Ghost Stories VS Non Non Biyori VS Samurai Flamenco

Fushigi Yuugi VS Psycho-Pass VS Azumanga Daioh

Bleach VS Dragon Ball Super VS Ace of Diamond

My Neighbor Seki VS Mob Psycho 100 VS No. 6

Full Metal Panic VS Princess Principal VS Ya Boy Kongming!

Sayonara, Zetsubou-sensei VS Puella Magi Madoka Magica VS Vivy: Fluorite Eye's Song

#thank you all for your submissions btw!!!

[gaydragontournament]

ROUND 1: PART 2

Propaganda under cut

Kaido

● He ate a magic fruit and can turn into a dragon. He flirts with both men and women when he's drunk, so he's bisexual.

● He can transform into a giant azure dragon or a hybrid dragon, and he's bisexual.

Not explicitly confirmed bisexual, but he has a son so he must have had sex with a woman (or a trans man, we never saw Yamato's mother), and he drunkenly flirted with the male main character in the middle of their epic battle.

Also, Kaido's aforementioned son is a trans man, and while he abuses the shit out of Yamato for the man he kins (one of Kaido's old enemies), he does respect his pronouns.

https://hot.leanbox.us/manga/One-Piece/1042-006.png

● Kaido is the main villain of one of the most recent sagas of One Piece, and he ate the fish-fish fruit: azure dragon model which allows him to transform into a half-dragon form and a dragon form. He is a drunkard and flies into different moods when drunk such as angry, sad, happy, etc. One of these moods is "flirty drunk" and he says to his (male)opponent while the opponent is attacking him, "Stop it, you! <3" while winking. While this could be seen as a flimsy reason to call him gay, most characters in the series don't show attraction at all due to romance having such little focus. This is stronger evidence of attraction than most characters have in the entire series. Also, the dude is pretty cool. He's a completely messed up P.O.S. individual, and it's fun to watch him on screen. He's a well written villain, we love to see him get his shit wrecked by our protagonist. Also he respects his trans son's pronouns while still being a complete abusive a-hole to him. He's funny, he's terrifying, he's irritating, Kaido rocks as a character and is up there as one of the best one piece villains.

Velverosa

● N/A

#gaydragontournament #ask #polls #tournament poll #dragons #dragon #one piece #kaido one piece #kaido #mage and demon queen #mage & demon queen #queen velverosa

[voltageapps]

Three new Switch otome games by Voltage Inc. are under development! 🎮

2024 NEON MAFIA & Kaleido Tower

2025 Vampire Hunter

Website: Click Here

NEON MAFIA (ネオンマフィア)

Staff

Director: Ichika Shiina (Voltage Inc.)

Illustrator: Takao (Voltage Inc.)

Scenario: Ririka Yoshimura

Popular Works: Cupid Parasite, Gensou Kissa Enchanté, Hamefura Pirates, DIABOLIK LOVERS MORE,BLOOD, Shiro to Kuro no Alice, DesperaDrops, Matsurika no Kei

Backgrounds: Studio COCOLO

Popular Works: Code Geass, Demon Slayer, Detective Conan, Mobile Suit Gundam Thunderbolt, Rage of Bahamut, Re:cycle of Penguindrum, Sleepy Princess in the Demon Castle, Tada Never Falls in Love, A Whisker Away

Music: Shunsuke Tsuchiya

Popular Works: even if TEMPEST, Black Wolves Saga, Another Eden, Bad Apple Wars

Theme Vocals/Lyrics: Shihoko Hirata

Popular Works: Persona Series, even if TEMPEST

Love Interests (so far)

Gante Lowd: Avenger in Faith

Zhang Hiyok: Outlaw Drunk on Emptiness

Sodyk Mun: Scheming Bellwether

Sun Maslo: Singularity who Questions Reason

MC

Liu Kroa: Mastermind who Transports Fate

Kaleido Tower (カレイドタワー)

Staff

Director/Scenario: Ayane Ushio

Popular Works: even if TEMPEST, Norn9, Juuzaengi, The Wizard's Promise aka Mahoyaku

Illustrator: Tana Khaki

Popular Works: even if TEMPEST, Birushana, Hamefura Pirates

Costume Design: UNICO INC.

Popular Works: even if TEMPEST, a lot of Voltage Love 365 titles

Backgrounds: Shizui fen

Music: Hayato Asano

Popular Works: Atelier Series, Blue Reflection Series

Theme: DUSTCELL

Love Interest and MC (so far)

Vampire Hunter (ヴァンパイアハンター)

Staff

Director: Nachi (Voltage Inc.)

Scenario: Yuzuki

Popular Works: Paradigm Paradox, Dream Meister and the Recollected Black Fairy aka Yumekuro, Shuuen no Virche, The Lucky Princess of Temirana and the Tragic Knights aka TsuiTsui

Illustrator: Norita

Popular Works: even if TEMPEST, Beast Darling! Backgrounds: Minoru Akiba > Popular Works: Pokémon Series, Trigun, Chuubyou Gekihatsu Boy, Grand Blue, Magical Girl Site

Music: Yamato (Heart Company Ltd.)

Popular Works: Free!, A3!, Ensemble Stars, GYROAXIA from BangDream, D4DJ, IDOLM@STER, Uma Musume, SHOW BY ROCK!!

Theme: 9mm Parabellum Bullet

Love Interest and MC (so far)

After her family is killed, MC becomes a vampire hunter out of revenge.

Sorry if there's any mistake or missing info in the thread. Stay tuned for more information and follow @Voltage_Switch on X/Twitter!

We also have a Discord server to hype on these games, even if TEMPEST, and many Voltage Inc. otome games!

Join us: https://discord.gg/voltageinc

#voltageinc #voltage inc #voltage otome #otome romance #otome #otome game #neon mafia #kaleido tower #vampire hunter #even if tempest

[voca-edits]

Read this before requesting!

Hello and welcome to my little edit blog! You can call me Miku! I enjoy editing and have nothing to do with what I edit so I'll put stuff here occasionally. I also take requests! Please forgive me if I'm slow with answering requests, this is my first time running a blog like this. ^^;;

Requests are open! I only accept requests involving sources I'm familiar with! (Sources below)

Please don't bring any discourse here. This isn't the blog for it! Anyone can interact and request an edit!

Under the cut;

I will do; Transparent edits Icons and gif icons Tumblr/Twitter/Discord headers Bouncy gif headers and icons Reply/RP icons Phone and desktop wallpapers (Please specify dimensions!) Edit sets (Consisting of two phone wallpapers, three icons, and two tumblr headers)

I can take requests for the following; VOCALOID/SynthV/CeVIO Project Sekai/Colorful Stage Danganronpa Doki Doki Literature Club DRAMAtical Murder Togainu no chi Slow Damage Lamento -Beyond the void- Attack on Titan Rune Factory Black Rock Shooter Happy Sugar Life Madoka Magica + Magia Record Kingdom Hearts Blush Blush/Crush Crush Steins;Gate Nekopara Talentless Nana Pretty Cure Magical Girl Site Tokyo Mew Mew Serial Experiments Lain Your Turn to Die Blue Archive Arknights Azur Lane Promare Cafe Enchante Amnesia: Memories You and Me and Her Magical Girl Raising Project Zombie Land Saga Needy Streamer Overload My Dress Up Darling Komi Can't Communicate Don't Toy with Me, Miss Nagatoro Taisho x Alice Spy x Family Genshin Impact Onimai: I’m now your sister Chaos;Head Chaos;Child Trigun Stampede Kiss him, not me The girl I like forgot her glasses Ensemble Stars Bang Dream Love live Girlfriend Beta Oshi no ko Chainsaw man Nu carnival Obey me Love Plus d4dj Tale of food Revue Starlight idolm@aster/idol master Honkai impact Honkai star rail Boyfriends (webcomic) 100 girlfriends who really really really love you Diabolik lovers Frieren beyond journey’s end

I won't do; UTAUloids Fanloids Moodboards Stimboards Edits including fanart Edits involving Leon Kuwata or Teruteru Hanamura KaiMei/KaitoxMeiko Eruri/ErwinxLevi

I have the right to refuse a request for any reason!

Anyone is free to request and use my edits, on any site you wish! You also do not have to credit, though it is of course appreciated. However please do not claim my edits as your own or reupload them elsewhere! if needed, please link back to the original post.

*Extra note, any gifs I upload from now will be uploaded in both .gif and .webp formats. webp is much higher quality than gifs, and tumblr supports webp well enough that you can apply one as your header with no issues. You will however need to click on the webps for them to animate, as the thumbnails are static. As not many sites support webp, you can use the .gif versions of my edits there instead.

Thank you for visiting, have a lovely day!

#edit blog #edit tumblr #wallpapers #icons #reply icons #vocaloid #danganronpa #doki doki literature club #genshin impact

[andromeda-grace]

Writeblr Introduction

Hi, I’m Andromeda (she/they). I am returning to Writeblr and decided to start a new blog for my WIPs and writing updates! I want to use this blog to shout out other Writeblrs, make posts about my current WIPs, and experiences in publishing. I mostly write original fiction but write fanfic when the inspiration strikes. I love Writeblr games and asks!

This blog is a safe space for all identities, gender & sexuality, neurodivergence, race, and religion. I do my best with content and trigger warnings.

My Writing: Genre and Representation

I love horror, sci-fi, and fairy tales 

I don’t enjoy romance (if it’s only the pursuit and drama), but I love writing nuanced love stories where people communicate well and put effort into building relationships

Lots of queerness and queer relationships

BIPOC main characters

Neurodivergence- shout out to the undiagnosed ADHD queens, the anxiety, and masking/coping behaviors

Trauma, out of context, is seen as personality

Smut- sex is a part of life and it’s fun to write. Get down, make mistakes, get messy. My sex scenes aren’t just conventionally attractive people putting on a show. I emphasize body diversity, complexities of gender identity, and emotional state

Tropes:

Found Family

Villains

Redemption- working to be a better person, even when it’s hard

Poly-Amory- we often have more than one close friendship, and have variety and nuance in those different relationships, so the same thing goes for romance

Morally gray/Feral girls- women have so much responsibility put on them for the emotional wellbeing of others, but what if they aren’t capable of that? (think Broad City/ Bottoms)

Finished works:

The Devil You Know- short story- Out now! Find your copy here

Genre: horror, vampires, fairytale

Vibe: The Green Knight x The Witch

Anya has built a quiet life for herself, trusted as the village healer as long as she keeps her magic hidden. All of that changes when a strange traveler arrives at her doorstep. The man looks human, but Anya senses an old and powerful magic within him. Intrigued, she allows Owen inside. He claims to have been an apprentice to a witch, and Anya, despite her suspicions, finds him to be a kindred spirit. They begin a romance, both finding comfort in one another.

Their peace is broken when a family comes to Anya in crisis. Their child has been cursed, and is transforming into a monster. Desperate to save the boy, Anya asks Owen for help. He can grant her the power to break the spell, but it requires blood and forbidden rites. Knowing that she can’t break the curse alone, Anya faces a choice with deadly consequences.

WIPs:

Bubblegum Capital

Genre: Queer Cyberpunk

Vibe: 1984 x Legally Blonde

Novaczek is on the brink of fame. They’re an amateur gamer about to break into the pro leagues. But their dreams are crushed when work denies them time off for the championship.

Novaczek decides to play on shift and is caught. Everything comes crashing down. They find themselves at rock bottom having lost their job, company housing, and girlfriend all at once.

In a world where your value is measured by your social ranking, Novaczek has to claw themselves back up, hustling for money and favors from friends. As they work their way back up the ranks they discover an underbelly where nothing and no-one are what they appear to be.

Love, Asunder

Genre: Gay Vampires, Family Saga

Vibe: 1917 x Hellboy

James Townsend was supposed to be starting his new life, an American abroad, with a Fellowship at Oxford University. All of that changes when Germany marches on Paris. James can’t remain in the classroom while teachers and students leave their desks for the battlefield. So James enlists as a volunteer ambulance driver on the Front. The days stretch long with violence and misery, but he finds purpose and friendships in the trenches. 

Then he meets a man, a smuggler providing supplies and information to the Allies. Etienne is so different from the soldiers, bright and charming. They begin a secret romance, disappearing together when they can, and writing letters in between. 

An opportunity comes to meet in Paris, and James is overwhelmed at the opportunity to spend time with Etienne in the City of Love. Free to spend their days together, James quickly discovers just how much Etienne has been hiding from him, and enters a world of magic, beauty, and death. 

Tropes and fun stuff:

Butch witches

Femme werewolves

Playing the vampire tropes straight

Magical Underground

Found Family

Bio-Family responsibilities

Many, Many different kinds of love

I'll be sharing moodboards and snippets along the way! Looking forward to learning more about the other talented Writeblrs out here!

tagging: @hillnerd-art @suffrajett @starknstarwars @em-dashes @blind-the-winds @leave-her-a-tome @athenswrites

#writeblr #writing #gay vampires #writeblr community #writers on tumblr #witchy shit #novel writing #horror #fairy tales

[critical-catastrophe]

d&d campaigns be like

how it started: the party meets in an inn, fights thieves and cultists, makes friends with a few locals... how it's going: the bard is trying to revive and marry someone he's never met, the rogue works for a (new) cult, the sorcerer got replaced by a doppelganger and no one noticed for a week, last week we fought a sentient boat, the party keeps eating random things, one time we just did an escape room, medusa is here now, we're pretty sure the warlock isn't actually a warlock, also god is a duck

#critically bad jokes #magic rock saga #other ttrpg stuff #d&d #dungeons and dragons #ttrpg #dnd #dnd memes #dnd campaign #dnd shenanigans #this feels like another #tag your characters #all of these are things that are true about our campaign #and a very abridged version at that

[multicolour-ink]

Mario carrying Luigi to safety

For the prompt list?

Person A carrying Person B to safety

writing prompts

Takes place in the Mario Movie verse. Based on Superstar Saga (not plot related but can be interpreted as such).

- - -

Carry You

Mario gasped as a long range attack narrowly whizzed passed his shoulder. He gritted his teeth as he clutched at the cliff face.

Not far. Just a little more and they could get away. They could escape from the enemies persuing them.

He could finally get Luigi to safety.

He glanced back briefly at his brother, passed out unconscious on his back from the last battle. Mario had only just been able to get away before the enemies nearly dogpiled on them, in an attempt to finish them off.

With jubilation, Mario managed to finally pull himself up and over the edge of the cliff, then quickly scouted the area. To his great relief, he spotted a small cave opening, obscured just slightly by a jutting out rock face.

Mario dived into it, pausing briefly to lay Luigi down on the flattest bit of ground there was, before sneaking back to peer out of the entrance.

He watched silently as the enemies looked around just feet from where the brothers were, before giving up and moving away and back down the cliff. Mario breathed a sigh of relief.

Immediately, he turned back to his brother and started to try and make him more comfortable. He pulled his brother's hat off, as well as his, to make a pillow, before taking the travelling bag and rummaging inside for some medicine.

They had used up all their full healing mushrooms, and the only things left were just normal Super Mushrooms. But it would have to do. Gently, Mario pried his brother's mouth open, and pushed the mushroom into his mouth. The mushroom dissolved instantly, and his brother glowed with the magical healing essence it gave him.

Mario sat back on his heels. The mushroom had done its work. Now he had to wait.

He sat in silence, lost in his own oppressive thoughts. It hadn't been that long ago, before they were suddenly thrown into another adventure, and into a new strange land. The Mushroom Kingdom had its challenges, but the Beanbean Kingdom seemed especially cruel. There were enemies the brothers had never encountered before; creatures that seemed even tougher than those in the Mushroom Kingdom!

None of it had mattered though, because as long as the brother's had each other, then they could get through anything.

But Mario wasn't so sure now.

If things were getting this hard, then how could he and Luigi save Peach? How could they help save this kingdom?

How could he keep his brother safe?

"Mario?"

He was suddenly drawn out of his thoughts at the soft voice of his brother. He looked up. Luigi was awake now, gazing at him through half sleepy, worried eyes, as he rubbed his head.

"Luigi!", Mario gasped. He was next to his brother in an instant.

"Are you ok?! How do you feel?"

"Like I just got used as a punching bag", Luigi groaned.

Mario sank back onto his knees again.

"Hey", Luigi said. He reached out and placed a hand on Mario's arm.

"I'm fine now. Are you ok?!"

"Yeah", said Mario, his voice now deadpanned. "I'm ok. We're safe now."

He seemed to be saying that as if he was trying to reassure himself, as well as his brother. And Luigi noticed.

Luigi sat up as carefully as he could, being mindful of his now minor injuries, and sat closer beside his brother. Mario was staring at the wall again, deep in thought. Luigi knew it was never a good sign when Mario went this quiet.

"We had a scrape. But we're ok now."

"It's not just that", Mario replied softly. "What if that was it? What if I had not been able to get you away in time?"

Luigi sighed. He placed his hand over Mario's trembling ones, and squeezed gently.

"But you got me away. And I knew you could because I know you would never give up that easily."

Mario sighed again, and leaned his head into Luigi's shoulder.

"And I know...that you'll always have my back to make sure I can keep going."

"Never stopped you before", Luigi laughed.

The younger brother paused for a moment. He shuffled around so he and his brother were facing each other, and then leaned forward so their foreheads touched.

"I'm sorry I got taken out back there. If I hadn't, we would've had a better chance..."

"It's not your fault", said Mario firmly. "It's never your fault. It's just...this adventure seems to be getting tougher by the minute..."

"Means we're getting close to the end?", suggested Luigi.

"The final boss?", Mario now joked.

Luigi chuckled.

"So...don't you think we should keep going, and finish the level?"

Mario had to laugh at that. He pressed his forehead closer to his brother's, suddenly overcome with emotion.

"Thanks Lu."

"Anytime. Let's stay and rest here a bit."

"Yeah...let's do that."

#oof have some angst and wholesomeness #so pleased I got this done in one sitting #I hope this suffices anon #thank you for the prompt :) #and hope you all enjoy this <3 #super mario #mario #luigi #the super mario bros movie #super mario movie #mario movie #mario and luigi #brothers #mario movie 2023 #mario and luigi superstar saga #superstar saga #writing prompt #mario fanfiction #mario fanfic #fanfiction #multicolour ink writes #my writing #supportive brothers is my good food

[cringefaillosersummit]

Pathetic Woman Showdown!!

The bracket is out! Here are the 32 lovely cringefail and pathetic women!

The poll will begin July 31st at 12:00 P.M. EST. They will run for a week.

The match-ups are below the cut!

Side A

Group 1 Minamoto Sakura (Zombieland Saga) Misaki Shiki (The World Ends With You) Group 2 Operator 6O (NieR:Automata) Marie (Persona 4 Golden) Group 3 Abe Nana (THE iDOLM@STER) Yua Serufu (Do It Yourself!!) Group 4 Clementine Kesh (Friends at the Table: PARTIZAN) Hanasato Minori (Project SEKAI) Group 5 Eleanor Shellstrop (The Good Place) Natalie Scatorccio (Yellowjackets) Group 6 Yaegashi Yasuko (Akiba Maid War) Honda Hanako (Asobi Asobase) Group 7 Alphys (Undertale) Jessie (Pokemon) Group 8 Gwen Stacey (Spiderverse) Harrowhark Nonagesimus (The Locked Tomb)

Side B

Group 1 Egokoro Nao (Your Turn to Die) Kiryū Nanami (Revolutionary Girl Utena) Group 2 Kikimora (The Owl House) Surge the Tenrec (Sonic the Hedgehog) Group 3 Deandra "Dee" Reynolds (It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia) Gotō Hitori (Bocchi the Rock!) Group 4 GLaDOS (Portal) Vriska Serket (Homestuck) Group 5 Eva Heinenmann (Naoki Urasawa's Monster) Perona (One Piece) Group 6 Liliana Vess (Magic: The Gathering) Higuchi Ichiyō (Bungo Stray Dogs) Group 7 Bart (Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency) Sha Hualing (Scum Villain's Self-Saving System) Group 8 Lilith (Public U. Art Club) Goromi (Yakuza)

#pathetic woman showdown #tumblr tournament #pathetic women bracket #pws round 1

[boybff]

wait hiiiii hi hello bestie i didn’t know u like video essays!! i’ve been trying to find more to watch recently, do u have any other recs? about any topic 👀

HIIIIII bestie Robin, are you ready?? After harvesting my Youtube subscription and liked video lists here is what I have compiled. I'm gonna put my current top 5 video recommendations and then the rest of the list, under the cut, is organized by creator.

Why Are There So Many Confederate Vampires

The art of religious interpretation (midnight mass vs god’s not dead)

Defunctland: Walt Disney's City of the Future, E.P.C.O.T.

Hogwarts Legacy, JK Rowling, and Trans Advocacy

Cultural Inspirations in Avatar: The Last Airbender Book 1 - Water 

CHANNELS

biz barclay - hilarious, brilliant, my best friend who drinks wine and weaves me long insightful stories while sitting on the dresser or in the bathtub. The vast amount of knowledge, historical 

understanding snapewives: religion, fandom, sociology, & erotica

Goncharov (1973) video essay

The art of religious interpretation (midnight mass vs god’s not dead)

Xiran Jay Zhao - Author of one of my FAVE YA novels, “Iron Widow” (which is a MUST read). I always want more avatar content that focuses on cultural inspirations from trusted sources. Xiran taught me so much about the avatar universe I already loved as well as valuable critiques. They also do retellings of historical events such as- Bisexual Han Dynasty Emperors and Forgotten Warrior Queen - Fu Hao.

Cultural Inspirations in Avatar: The Last Airbender Book 1 - Water 

Cultural Inspirations in Avatar: The Last Airbender Book 2 - Earth 

Cultural Inspirations in Avatar: The Last Airbender Book 3 - Fire 

Fundie Fridays - Jen, a leftist queer feminist, and her husband James examine different aspects of Christian fundamentalism, American conservative politics and pop culture. She has remade a lot of her older videos so make sure to watch the updated versions! She was also featured in the Amazon docuseries “Shiny Happy People” which I would HIGHLY recommend. 

Vacation Bible School of Rock (3 part video series History of Contemporary Christian Music)

Ken Ham’s Creation Museum & Ark Encounter

Ask a Mortician - Caitlin Doughty!!! The adult Wednesday Addams we should have got. So compassionate, informed, and moving!! I love her work and she has taught me so much about what it means to have a relationship with death and grief. Her work deals with heavy topics and you can tell she does this work from a deeply respectful, informed place. 

The Lake That Never Gives Up Her Dead

Let’s Visit the Churches Made of Human Skulls

Why are Black and White Funeral Homes STILL Separate? With Dr. Kami Fletcher

Iconic Corpse Series

Princess Weekes -  Nuanced video essays on pop culture, race, feminism, and other social issues. Takes time to break down complex concepts, their origins and material consequences. The essay on confederate vampires and the connection later made to sci-fi media like Firefly were so paradigm shifting to me!

Why Are There So Many Confederate Vampires

The Magical Negroes of Stephen King

Ro Ramdin - Poetic, biting, and introspective essays on pop culture. 

Do Celebrities Hate Their Fans? (Doja Cat, Frank Ocean)

Hogwarts Legacy, JK Rowling, and Trans Advocacy

DefunctLand- History of extinct theme parks and themed entertainment experiences. 

Defunctland: Walt Disney's City of the Future, E.P.C.O.T.

Disney Channel’s Theme: A History Mystery

Mina Le - Fashion, movies and pop culture

WHY IS EVERYTHING SO UGLY: The Curse of Modernism

FAIRYTALE COSTUMES: it’s giving renfaire but why?

Quinton Reviews - Extensive videos covering niche topics, most popular for Nickelodeon deep dive retrospectives.

How Documentaries Lie to You

The ICarly/Victorious Saga Playlist

TheEpicNate315 - yea i fucking love endless hours of useless skyrim lore because the conspiracies are so deep and I have to do 0 of the research to get all of the information years of scouts worked to piece together! 

The Skyrim Mysteries Iceberg (Part 1 of 4)

The Fallout Mysteries Iceberg (Part 1 of 2, incomplete series)

Mike’s Mic - Silly, goofy, and thorough breakdowns of nostalgic TV shows

Any of his unhinged recaps - LOST, Pretty Little Liars, Glee

Tiffanyferg - Media criticism and commentary

Internet Analysis Series 

Zoë Ligon - sex educator, artist, and writer, who also owns SpectrumBoutique.com, a health and education oriented sex toy store. Such a special place in my heart for her!! Her bondage mini-documentary with Midori was so touching. 

Sex Stuff | Japanese Rope Bondage with Midori

Channels Newer to Me

Broey Deschanel - a mixture of film analyses, retrospectives, politics and just absolutely overthinking anything to do with pop culture

Elvis (2022) and the Utter Mediocrity of Biopics 

Meeptop - rambling about movies and stuff

Who is Dahmer Even Made For?

LadyJenevia - discussing entertainment media content including films, television series, etc. Expect to find reviews of recent cinematic releases, video essays on older releases, and interviews with talent from the film/television industry

Glass Onion: A Knives Out Mystery and The Art of Hiding in Plain Sight (Netflix Review/Video Essay)

As a disclaimer, I am not endorsing any creator fully and if you see someone you think I should not promote please reach out to me so I can edit this list. As a general rule of thumb the more I had to write about someone, the more informed the recommendation.

#if you read/watch this monster list thank you and I hope you enjoy!! #you can really see my niche interests displayed here lmao #send me asks if you have questions! or have recommendations for me!! #boybff reccomendations #video analysis #video essay reccomendations #video essay #YouTube recommendations

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

A Page, Turning

There’s another me on the page, another me in the mirror.

This is part 15… of 20. Your hand is frozen, afraid to see what lies on the other side.

(I have a goal to finish this saga in late 2023 or early 2024 so wish me luck on powering through the last few installments 😅)

The Tale of the Cursed Raven:

Part 1 I Part 2 I Part 3 I Part 4 I Part 5 I Part 6 I Part 7 I Part 8 I Part 9 I Part 10 I Part 11 I Part 12 I Part 13 I Part 14 

“Do you know what drives a story forward?”

He asked the question without looking up from her manuscript. His tone was flat, but edged with sternness as he cut a line of red ink through a sentence. The color fuzzily bled into the parchment paper.

“No. I don’t,” she replied. Truthfully, innocently.

Her mentor slashed through another section, indicating off the offending areas in telltale red. Each strike of the quill made her flinch, as though those strikes were cutting through her instead of through her work.

“Time?” she offered, her guess echoing in the dark room.

He set his papers down and scoffed. The full extent of his gaze settled on his pupil. Discomfort gnawed at her.

His eyes were empty ones. They did not belong to a man, but what remained of one. Just a husk being blown around in the breeze.

“It’s the characters.”

“Characters…?”

“The people we write about.” He slapped the back of his hand against the marked-up manuscript. “A rock won’t cast itself into a lake, it needs someone to throw it. An adventure does not begin if the hero refuses to answer the call. And what good is a rich world and lore without beings to bask in it?”

A light bulb went off in her head.

“Oooh. So characters… make things happen!!”

“Not just that. It is through the characters that a story is shaped. The outcome, the ending… it is the result of all the characters, their choices, and their bonds and connections with one another.”

“Everything is connected?”

“Yes.”

In his circle of candlelight, his empty eyes seemed to soften the slightest bit. He slumped forward in his seat, pressing his forehead against a palm. When he looked down, written words were a blur.

“… I realize that now,” he murmured. A soft groan rushed through his teeth.

“Teacher?” She placed a tentative hand on his arm—the arm still gripping his quill. The raven could feel the muscles under his skin stiffen at the touch.

He pulled away. This time, he did not make eye contact as he spoke. The flickering flame of a candle was his companion, his solace.

“Readers have their reasons for seeking stories. They want to relate to someone, they want to meet new faces, they want to cry and to celebrate with them, they want to be loved. They want to escape.

“Stories make us feel things, child. And just as the characters impact their stories, so, too, do those stories change the world.”

He slammed both hands down on his writing desk.

The candle wobbled, and papers flew into the air. They slowly drifted down, big bales of white against and the shadows they projected along the walls. White feathers and black feathers in a gentle rain.

“The real world. It puts hope into people’s hearts, and it can tear them down just as easily. It’s your role as storyteller to bring the feelings put on the page to life.“

“Feelings…”

I don’t even fully understand my own yet, she wanted to protest. But the words and the composition of them eluded her.

The raven’s mouth remained sealed shut.

“There’s no soul to your characters. Rewrite it,” he commanded gruffly, jerking his chin to the papers scattered at her feet, “and this time, make it something worth reading.”

The gemstone set in her magical quill has not fully cleared yet. Once a clear, deep navy, it now has tendrils of black threaded through it. Plumes of smoke floating up sweetly into the night.

Raven closes her fingers around the writing implement. A book is on her lap, open to a fresh double spread.

Doubts louder than the screeching baby robin swirl in her head.

You’ve never gotten a grip on your unique magic. What happened all those other times you tried to tame it? You failed. Even when you try to cheat and use tools to help channel the magic, you fail.

High quality parchment, enchanted inks, quills made from the feathers of rare birds… No matter what you use, it never works.

The problem isn’t the magic or the conduits, it’s you.

Your own weakness.

Each nasty thought is a little black bird, taking root and roosting where it shouldn’t. The doubts collect into a familiar feeling, a dark cloud suspended above her heart. A group of them, a swarm.

An unkindness of ravens.

She frowns, pressing the nib of her quill into the corner of her first page. It leaves an imprint, a dent. Proof of her existence.

I know I’m weak.

Her confession causes the darkness to cave in, crashing upon her in a thunderous roar. What is left is the quiet that comes after a storm has settled, and a soft, resolute realization.

I was never strong to begin with, but… I can still give others strength, can’t I? That’s my role. Not a storyteller, but someone who gives support.

She crinkles her brow, shutting her book. Raven lays her pen flat against the cover, then her hand on top of it.

Maroon leather dappled with spots of sunlight. Pockets of light in a place of shade.

Characters are connected. To the world, to their stories, to other characters. And even to me. Then…

I should have the power to change it too.

To make that magic real myself. To turn dreams into reality.

Her eyes drift shut, and a match strikes, igniting a flame inside of her. A warm buzz skitters across her skin. Magic hums in her veins, manifesting at her fingertips.

“The future is but a blank page. Allow me to guide you through this story.

“Quoth the Raven!”

Something in the air shifts in response to her plea.

She sighs and reaches—this time not within herself, but outward.

To the robin.

There is momentary nothingness.

Then the ground at her feet falls away in one clean chunk.

She’s suddenly sailing through a void, book and quill slipping out of her grasp. The whirring of a great plummet rattles her bones, chilling hands tugging at her skin.

What is this?

Raven doesn’t entirely understand what’s happening, but for once the unknown does not frighten her. Curiosity pulls her deeper down the rabbit hole. Her insides skip, almost embracing the call.

It feels so natural, so expected, for an entirely new experience.

Is this… how it was meant to be all along?

An impact is her answer. Raven’s feet connect, spirit anchoring to a new space.

Sharp pangs spike along both arms. She hisses, expelling a deep breath through her clenched teeth.

But worse yet is the pain in her chest, a boulder cast into a raging river. Her eyes sting, and her throat is torn asunder, left raw and frayed.

The world explodes into another existence, painting everything over with a coat of jet black. The sky, the plants, even Raven, rendered by the night.

A curtain descends, falling across her head in silken waves. Chords of color dangle from the darkness. All shades of blue, all pulsating with pain.

She recognizes them.

The rich blue-violet of Fear, the palest pastel of Forgotten. A cobalt so deep that it was nearly black—Despair.

These must be…

Raven naturally extends a hand to the colors—introducing a new flash of pain down her arm.

Whispers snake along her skin and slink into her ears, indiscernible and unwelcome. There’s a slight shove against her shoulder, testing her sturdiness.

Don’t push me out, she coaxes the robin’s mind space. I’m a friend. I’m just like you.

The sky shudders.

A harsh wind roars, blowing her bangs and pigtails back.

Blue soars through the darkness, weaving ribbons of a pure and cloudless color. Those streaks, Raven realizes, are drawn by a whole flock. They’re loosely defined, existing as nothing more than outline of some bird-like shapes—but the air is theirs.

Her heart fills with melancholy, sadness seeping into the cuts and gashes already there. Salt rubbed in the wounds, reopening scars.

Her pulse picks up pace, her blood rumbling like thunder. The birds passing overhead are a scene put on fast forward, their shadows racing for the sunset.

This feeling is familiar.

Raven shakily takes Despair in her stiff, aching fingers, rubbing a thumb along it. There is no glossiness or sheen to the darkness, no light that refracts.

Icy images slam into her.

A nest. Shattered eggshells. Feathers and beaks. Robins clamoring together. Wings spread out. Takeoff.

Blue, endless blue.

Uneasy steps to the edge. Clumsy footing, a slip. Infantile wings flapping in desperation. A small body falling, falling, falling…

Fallen down.

Raven nods slowly.

Once upon a time, you were bright-eyed and hopeful. You dreamed of the sky, and exploring it with your loved ones.

One misstep and disaster struck. Your wings were injured, and your dream shattered.

Separated from your family and unable to fly, you don’t know what to do. You’re scared that you’ve lost everything—including yourself. You think that this is where your story stops.

She digs her nail into Despair.

But I’ve seen beyond ever after, and I know that ‘the end’ isn’t truly the end.

The deals offered to her. The hands she had held. The promises not kept.

All those times, I thought I was done for—but life still went on. No… I moved on. I continued living. I went to a new place, I met new people, I experienced new things. What hurt me before made me stronger.

Her shoulders sag, burdened by an unseen weight. She stands tall and lifts them, picturing arms supporting her on both sides and a hand upon her back.

“You’ve truly changed—here, at our Night Raven College.”

She smiles.

My wings are broken too. Not physically, but it keeps me from flying. They’re still healing. I’m not yet ready to see the sky again. But I know that, someday, I’ll be able to fly once more. The same goes for you.

Your story is your own. It’s only over if you let it be—if you let the story write you instead of the other way around.

This page can’t turn to the next without you.

Raven’s breath echoes into the ground, oscillating outward in waves.

Tha-thump.

Tha-thump.

Tha-thump.

She feels a heartbeat buried in the earth. Deep below the dirt, the sound dullened by the distance and the substance piled between them.

Her own pulse slows, matching it. Exhales, long trains of secrets unwinding themselves and drifting up into the sky.

Slow, steady—calm.

Tha-thump.

Tha-thump.

Tha-thump.

Their heartbeats align, becoming one.

Breaths coalescing.

Willing the flow of the feelings, guiding them with a channel formed by her hands.

A radiant blue pools in a circle around Raven’s thumb. The shade of the sky seeps into Despair, coloring the whole chord. It bleeds down into the others—Fear and Forgotten and more.

Before long, Raven is standing under a curtain of sky blue. Cool to the touch, and comforting. She feels like she’s surrounded by plush clouds.

A passing breeze pats her cheek as she sifts the strands between her fingers.

This is… my answer.

She falls back, setting the color to the wind. No grass or ground bothers catching her.

The world vanishes, and she’s tumbling through that vast, wonderful color. Sinking into a beautiful abyss with no bottom.

Free falling, flying.

Blink.

Everything implodes, converging in her tiny body.

The moon and sun and clouds and stars all fold up and pack tightly inside of her. Aurora ribbons and storms with silver linings. Even the shadows slip in, riding upon slivers of light.

The sky is bottled up.

Shoved into her.

And she’s back.

Raven opens her eyes. Real sensations slowly piece together again.

Wobbling wetness in her eyes, trails blazing down her cheeks. Her breath expels in deep, heavy pants. Head swimming, her slight form shaking violently.

The aftereffects hit her all at once.

Nausea makes its home in her gut, dampening her attire with sweat. Pressure presses down hard on her skull, threatening to crush it like an overripe fruit. A consistent, dizzying pain creeps at the corners of her vision.

She gulps and looks down.

The gem set in her magical quill is nearing a pitch black. A single thread of color hangs in the delicate balance, refusing to be overtaken by obsidian.

But the robin doesn’t move a muscle. It regards her with an eerie calmness, eyes wide and innocent.

Waiting for what is next.

“... So, here you are."

The quiet but resolute accusation pierces the forest.

An impish young man seats itself beside them at the lake. He wears a brilliant green vest, a jacket draped over his shoulders. When he grins, there is the flash of fangs and a glint in his big, ruby eyes. They beam out from behind uneven, dark bangs streaked with magenta.

"Vanrouge." Their smile is bitter. "How kind of you to join me in the audience. A bit late for it, though."

"I thought I sensed a familiar presence—and I was right. That magic was your barrier after all." He casually crossed his legs. "Tell me, old friend, what brings you to Sage's Island?"

They laugh. "Meddling in others' affairs, are we?"

"Isn't that precisely what you're doing?" Lilia meets their harsh words blow for blow. It comes as naturally to him as swordplay.

"We never did see eye-to-eye on these things. The path to true happiness never does run as smooth as we want it to, do we?”

"I see that you have no intention of backing down." He frowned. "You have a special interest in this one, or...?"

They dip a finger into the lake water, causing its surface to ripple. The rings rise and fall so easily.

"This story--her story-- was set into motion long ago. It is far past the point of no return. Whatever you do and say now cannot sway the path she has chosen to walk along."

"Ah, but you make exceptions for your own actions?"

"How is she to develop if she cannot overcome the simplest of obstacles?"

"Simple? Even I can see that you're being needlessly cruel and unusual."

"And you are being needlessly lax and indulgent. Time has softened your barbs, O’ Crimson Demon.”

“We don’t speak of the past,” he says quickly. “Not here.”

“You treasure your time here so, even when you are short on it yourself. Worry for yourself, and not for the juveniles you seek to coddle.”

The words hurt—but behind them is a blunted kind of darkness, something deeper and more sullen. An anger and a sadness not shown to the world.

He suddenly understands.

A personal vendetta, then, he ventures. "If this is concerning the Loveless King of old--"

"It is no longer about him. It is about his successor, the one who bears his legacy."

"What is the point of making the child--any child--suffer so? Does she truly deserve to bear the sins of her forefather? Can you not allow her to live and let live?"

The only sound is the water washing everything away.

"Answer me, Estella."

She holds up a finger, silencing him.

"... Listen. Watch. The next scene of the story is unfolding. The finale is afoot.”

A pair tromps through the woods, each person a considerable distance apart. A boy in a headscarf is far ahead, calling out into the thicket through cupped hands. His gloomy partner trails after him unenthusiastically, hunched over and muttering curses.

"No luck so far..." Kalim sighs, his shoulders sagging. "Poor Raven! She must be so confused and cold and tired out here all by herself."

Idia sighs too--much more despairingly.

“‘Poor Raven’ this, ‘poor Raven’ that… Where’s MY ‘poor Idia’?!" he muttered to himself. "I was right in the middle of a game when the headmaster put out that 'urgent' summons and it cost me the match!"

I’ve just been taking Ls left and right lately... First it was Azul-shi pestering me for 'just a little favor', and I felt bad for him so I caved!! That’s the LAST time I decide to have a heart! I had to give up that precious concert ticket to someone that doesn't even appreciate the art of idols!! Then Floyd doesn't do the ONE job he had to do, and I missed out on some limited edition in-game prizes… And now being sent on a rescue mission I didn't ask to be a part of...!

Hell hasn’t known true fear until it’s met with a raging gamer...!!

"Oh, I know! I'll have Jamil run her a hot bath and prepare a banquet to welcome Raven back once we find her. That way, she'll be able to relax and get comfortable again," Kalim babbles ahead of him, all smiles again. (His sadness never lasted that long, Idia had noticed.)

Kalim glances at his partner, then gasps. "Oh gosh, Idia! You look so worn out! You've been so hard at work trying to help us find Raven, it's no wonder you're tired! Should I have Jamil prepare a hot bath and a banquet for you too?"

"N-No!!" Idia snaps. "A-Anything but that!! I think I'd rather die..."

"You feel like you're going to die?! Oh no, should I call a doctor for you?"

"D-Don't do ANYTHING for me, I'm begging you!"

Idia's plea echoes through the forest, shaking the leave above them. They rattle, producing a light, shifting sound. And then...

A chirp comes from far away.

Kalim leaps at the sound. "Did you hear that just now? It sounded like a bird...!!"

"I-Is it really that surprising to find a bird in a forest? Even a shut-in like me knows that's basic common sense..."

"Eh, really? I'm more used to seeing birds in cages. They bring in lots of them at some ceremonies and property openings I've been to. Then we cut a big ribbon and all the birds get released into the sky!"

Kalim glances in the direction of the chirp. "Hey, maybe if we go to the bird, we can ask it for help!"

"H-Huh? That's the first decent idea you've had all day. Birds have the aerial advantage in a situation like this." And the sooner we get this over with, the sooner I can retreat back to my bedroom to catch up on the event, Idia adds. "M-Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea to be paired with you after all. It can be useful to have a party member with a high Animal Language stat!"

"Oh, I'm not good at Animal Languages at all!"

"... Wh-What?"

"I just kind of get a gist for what they're feeling by listening really hard!

"H-How are we supposed to communicate what we need help with to any forest animal then?!"

"I can try my best!"

"What if your best isn't good enough?! I-I take back everything I said, being stuck with an extrovert's the WORST!!"

"Don't be like that, Idia!! We can definitely power through this together!!" Kalim rushes over to his upperclassman's side and--to Idia's horror--links arms with him. "Come on, let's get going before we lose the bird!"

"W-Wait, don't just go deciding that on your own...! A-And be careful, I’m not an athletic otaku! D-Don't pull on my arm, you'll dislocate itttt...!!"

Idia's protests go largely ignored or not registered. In the distance, critters scatter on little paws and hooves. Away from him, away from them.

Kalim drags him along the twisted road ahead and toward an uncertain outcome.

Only the hope of a birdsong to guide them.

Elsewhere in the woods, another pair struggles.

"Tch. I can't believe I was woken up from my nap for this,” Leona groans, batting a branch out of his way. Leave it to the headmaster to call us in to do his dirty work. “If he can’t keep an eye on the canary, that’s his problem, not mine.”

“Oh, quit it, will you?” Vil retorts with a sigh. “It’s exactly this kind of attitude that reflects poorly on both yourself and your entire dormitory.”

“You can’t possibly be happy about this.”

“I’m not--but you certainly aren’t making this any more bearable for me.” Vil grimaces as he steps over a large twig. The path before him is long and littered with environmental hazards: rocks, mud, and bugs--none of which he had dressed for. “The least you can do is go about this gracefully.”

“Oh, I do apologize, your majesty. I didn’t realize we were on our way to greet the Queen of Hearts herself,” Leona spits. “Wouldn’t want to offend her with poor manners now.”

“So you think it’s appropriate to offend me with your poor manners instead?” Vil huffs.

“Not like I have a choice. You see any other sorry saps around?”

Their sour exchanges are nothing new, but it offers Vil temporary reprieve from the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. Like a pool of fabric clenched in a fist, it gathers, twisting into a concentrated lump. An inkling of dread.

“... Something is wrong,” Rook had said. He, who was always smiling, had unmistakable panic in his eyes that night. “Something is terribly amiss.”

Vil hadn’t thought anything of it until the summons had come.

They had all anticipated the same old thing. Another emergency meeting with some inane demand from the headmaster, some offloading of responsibilities onto the dorm leaders. Expected, shared reluctance and complaints to match the headmaster’s crocodile tears.

It was simply that his niece had gone missing, and he sought her safe return. There were groans and eye rolls to be had, immediate rejections of the request as he scrambled for a bribe or a blackmail that would convince them.

The man was so flippant--yet he pleaded with such an intense desperateness. Not acted, nor exaggerated.

From the night before, Rook’s foreboding warning had arisen fresh in Vil’s mind. And again, now.

Danger on the horizon. A tragedy on the brink of becoming reality. The huntsman had a penchant for sniffing them out.

“... Rook, you absolute fool of a man,” Vil grumbles. “What have you gone and gotten yourself entangled with now?”

“Bleh, why’d you have to bring him up all of a sudden?” Beside his fellow dorm leader, Leona glowers, his ears flattening. “Cut it out or you’ll will him into existence. It’s already bad enough I have to put up with one pain in the tail.”

The wind passing through set the leaves above them rustling. Papery thin and delicate, the foliage may as well have been papers being shuffled and sorted.

“It’s rude to eavesdrop,” Vil shoots back. “Do you mind?”

“Can’t help having better hearing than the average human,” he shrugs, infuriatingly smug.

“Oui, Roi du Léon! That is but one of your many charm points!!”

“Yeah, that’s... right...”

Leona’s face slowly falls. Vil’s own expression matches his. Neither of them had noticed a third person emerging after them from the thicket. Not a smell, nor a sound, to give away his presence.

He stands between the duo, the brim of his feathered hat obscuring his eyes. A blonde bob cut, the rich violet and crimson band of Pomefiore upon his arm.

Rook casually tips his hat, causing Leona to shudder and back away. “Bonjour. What a coincidence it is to meet two kings sharing a stroll. It must be destiny that our paths crossed!”

“Oh good, you’ve jinxed us,” Leona drawls, passing Vil a glare. “Go figure.”

He doesn’t deign to acknowledge the lion with a response. Instead, Vil steps toward his huntsman. “Rook, just what is going on here?”

“Hmm?” His smile is far too dazzling for the circumstances. “Are you curious about my day? I’ve only been out taking in the sights and sounds of nature myself.”

“Be serious!” Vil considers shaking him by the shoulders, but thinks better of it. “This wasn’t the ominous attitude you had yesterday.”

Leona scowls. “Your first mistake was to trust Rook with anything at all.”

“As though you’ve been of any more use?”

Their sharp quips are met with a voice like a gentle caress.

“Roi du Poison, Roi du Léon.”

Rook tenderly took each of their hands in his. He playfully swung their arms from side to side in a simple dance, his lips forming a musical chuckle. “Oh, I’ve had the honor of witnessing the most marvelous scene!! It sets my heart aquiver at the thought.”

“What...” Vil sways with him in a confused daze. “What are you on about now?!”

“Looks like he’s finally lost his senses,” Leona simpers. “Tragic, really.”

“You’re not providing any concrete answers, Rook,” Vil protests, tugging on their linked hands—as if to snap him out of his trance. “What happened when you went out last night?”

Rook smiles dreamily. “What indeed. You see, I’ve looked beyond the looking glass and glimpsed the birth of new magic not once, not twice, but three times! First Monsieur Spade, then Monsieur Crabapple… Fufu, I’m quite the lucky man.”

“The first years that came into their unique magic,” Vil recalls. “Yes, I’m aware. Then this third incident must be…”

A bird sounds somewhere in the forest.

Leona immediately catches on. Quick as a cat, he pounces on the opportunity presented to him. “You’ve seen the canary. Well, track her down for us. Poor old Crowley’s beside himself without his golden girl.”

Irises in slivers of green peer out from the shadow of his hat. “Non, I’m afraid I can’t allow that. We mustn’t interfere at a time as fragile as this.”

“You’re making this real unnecessarily difficult. Step aside before I make you.”

The frustrated growl in Leona’s tone does little to frighten him. Rook laughs softly, looking fondly upon the woods surrounding them.

“A flower of evil is most beautiful when left on its own to bloom. If plucked, that vitality dissipates with time.”

He wishes to see it at the height of its beauty.

Pure, noble, and true.

At the end of a path is a clearing--and in that clearing is a raven.

She's crouched to the ground and deliberately made her presence as small as possible. Beside her is a basket. She stares into it, as if afraid to disrupt whatever is inside.

"Raven!!"

She turns at the call of her name, eyes swelling at the appearance of Kalim and Idia from behind the trees.

"Wh...”

“You’re okay!” Kalim tackles her in a smothering hug. “Everyone was so worried!!”

“Speak for yourself,” Idia mutters. “Assuming that everyone will just smile and agree with whatever motivational stuff you spew out... Th-This is why I can’t stand the sparkly, outgoing types irl!”

“You came looking for me?” Her words are tentative.

“Bzzzt, wrong. The headmaster cried and begged for us to find you,” Idia sneers, refusing to meet her curious eyes. “Some of us have more important things to do than random side quests.”

“Uncle did?”

It’s surreal to say.

Shame and shyness well up in her chest. She wonders what he must have been feeling when he discovered her note, wonders if she’s worthy of such worry. Raven is trapped between an apology she can’t bring herself to utter and the questions that fill her head.

“We’re so glad we found you!” Kalim finds her hands and squeezes them. “Let’s go back.”

“Back…?” She’s bewildered by the word. Blinks several times to reacclimate herself to it. “To everyone… to Night Raven College?”

“Gahahah! Of course, where else could we mean? Right, Idia?”

“D-Do you really need my input on this… There’s literally no other place we could mean.”

“... That’s right,” Raven agrees, just barely audible. “Night Raven College is my one and only home. My nest.”

She cradles the basket to her chest, hanging her head low. Her shadow is cast over the contents, odd bobs and ends collected from the forest, remnants of the place she once resided in.

Both the old and the new, together. Something borrowed and something blue.

“... I want to go home,” Raven says quietly, “if you’re willing to have me.”

“Huh, what kind of stupid question is that? The quest was to come and find you. There’d be no point in it if they didn’t want you back with them.”

“There’s people that would miss you if you just up and flew away, Raven. Friends and family,” Kalim adds. He doesn’t speak with the same scathing bite as Idia. “You should have seen how the headmaster was acting, it broke my heart!”

“Yeah, ngl it was p pathetic.”

“That... certainly sounds like Uncle.” There’s a slight laugh concealed in her statement. Amusement at the ordinariness of it.

She sucks in a breath and wills herself to stand. Her legs wobble, no steadier than a newly hatched chick taking its first steps. “I’d better not worry him any more than I already have.”

“You can lean on me for support if you need it,” Kalim offers, offering his shoulder. “Let’s get you back safely!”

“Finally.” Idia turns and starts grumpily tromping in the way he came from. 

He fumbles with his noise-cancellation headphones, wanting to wash away the outside world from his senses. As he slips them over his ears, he overhears Kalim and Raven behind him.

“What were you doing all the way out here anyway?”

“I was looking for something for the longest time. But now I think I’ve found it.” She pauses. “No... a little birdie helped me find it. A piece of the future.”

The junk in her basket? She was looking for that? Idia scoffs and tunes them out. Whatever.

Soft instrumentals play the opening notes of a song. The Fates will soon join in a harmonious choir, spinning the story of another hero. Behind him, Raven gives a rapt observation over the music.

“Ah... The sky is so blue today.”

Blue?

Idia inclines his head, a hand shielding his eyes from the shining sun. Above, a deep, permeating blue expands in all directions. He hadn’t much noticed it before--not when he was so often cooped up in his own bedroom.

It’s so bright, so hopeful.

A wind blows. Drying up tears and lifting their spirits up. Idia’s fiery hair whips in the breeze, shimmering in the sun as he braces himself against it.

Right before the lyrics begin.

“Oh yeah, the sky’s really pretty today!” Kalim notes. “I’ve always wondered what makes the sky blue? Sometimes it’s more and sometimes it’s less.”

“I wonder too.”

The Fates erupt in Idia’s ears, heralding destiny ever closer.

#twst oc #twisted wonderland oc #Raven Crowley #Leona Kingscholar #Idia Shroud #Vil Schoenheit #Kalim Al-Asim #Rook Hunt #Lilia Vanrouge #twst #twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #light spoilers for episode 7 #these events happen in spring sooo #around the time Lilia is about to... you know #Tale of the Cursed Raven