#I might draw something to kick off the story itself //shot

[monstersandmaw]

So I've just read the entirety of Gabe and Odessa's story for the first time today.

Ghosti. It's so good wtf. I don't have the words to tell you how much I adore those two idiots in love and all the sweetness and fluff that surrounds them.

I am astonished. Positively befuddled. Absolutely and undoubtedly stunned by how beautifully written everything is.

Thank you so much for sharing all that hard work with us.

Thank you???? SO MUCH???? FOR THIS??????? :D :D

Here's a WIP of Gabe's POV from the 'between seasons interlude' thing I worked on, as a thank you, and hopefully a treat?

Contents: shifting, pining, mention of mating/true mates, estranged family, and fluff Wordcount: 2957

The shift was already prickling along his skin the moment her little red VW was out of sight through the trees.

Thunder sensed it first, going tense before herding Axel gently away from the metal fence and chuffing at Mia to follow. For once, they both obeyed without question, and Gabe’s awareness of them faded.

A series of tiny tremors skittered through his muscles and he snarled as a frisson of pain shot up his spine. He needed to get out of sight of the main road and into the woods, but each step he took away from the direction she’d gone felt like he was being torn apart. His wolf was screaming at him to chase after her, throwing itself against the walls of his mind in desperation to make right whatever he’d done wrong, and no amount of human reasoning that she had just been there on holiday would placate it. Wolves didn’t understand time the way humans did and he found no way to convince his wolf that this wasn’t goodbye forever; that he’d see her again in no time.  

Her.

Odessa.

His mate.

That did make him pause, with one foot through the front door, the other still out on the veranda.

He’d mated her.

After leaving the city at just shy of nineteen, he’d spent the intervening fourteen years never expecting to mate anyone, and in less time than a single cycle of the moon after meeting her, he’d mated her.

“Fuck.”

Gabe’s eyes rolled closed and he clutched the doorframe as real, genuine pain lanced through his chest at the growing physical distance between them, and he let out a muted grunt through clenched teeth. He was bound to her for life, and he’d chickened out of telling her what he’d done. “You moon-damned idiot,” he snarled at himself, kicking his legs back into action and slamming the front door shut behind him so hard it made the OS map on the wall to his right vibrate. “You bloody well should have told her.”

He’d told himself that he was holding off telling her because he hadn’t wanted her to feel obliged to stay with him in any way, and while that was the case, he knew he had also just been a coward about it. He might have been certain of his feelings for her, but he had a wolf’s instinct to rely on. She was human, and she deserved the time to make up her own mind about him.

Silently, as he levered off his boots and crossed the living room that still smelled of pancakes and strawberries and of Odessa, he vowed to tell her the next time he saw her face to face. Mating wasn’t like a human marriage ceremony, where it was fundamentally just words, no matter how earnestly they were spoken. This was something that went down to his bones, that bound him to her forever, and he’d chosen it after only two weeks of knowing her. She was his One though. He’d known it the moment he’d looked at her in the Centre and her wide, dark eyes had skated down his body in a way he’d almost been able to feel like a physical touch. There would never be another for him now, no matter what.

The wolf paced and snarled about in his head and in his heart, and he knew there was no way to silence it now. With the moon this close and his mate drawing further and further away, he was facing a shift whether he wanted to or not.

He just about managed to get his clothes off before the cramping began in his shoulders and back, and he pitched forwards onto his hands and knees to let the shift sweep over him in the middle of his living room. God, the last time he’d done this, abandoned himself to the shift, he’d mated her. Just the memory of sinking his knot into her wet heat was enough to make him howl and forget the pain of the transformation.

When it was over, he was out the back door and halfway through the wolf-dog enclosure before he had even realised it. Thunder kept the others back, physically penning them into the den, and Gabe lifted his lip to warn him to stay put. Thunder dropped his head and licked his lips in submissive understanding, and let him go without asking to come along.

Mud beneath his paws, claws digging into the soft, cold earth. Damp air filling his nose. Pine needles. Deer scent.

South.

Run.

Find her.

Find her.

Find her.

He drew up short at the edge of an open meadow and stood stock still apart from his heaving chest.

A fly buzzed past his ear and he twitched it in irritation.

This was too close to being feral. Spooked by that realisation, he shook himself and forced himself to take a step back, to think.

I am not an animal. I am a wolf, but I am a man.

Mate.

Find her.

Again, he shook his head, snapping and snarling.

Think.

His mind was like the mud of the forest behind him — cloying and slow.

He skirted the forest at a steady lope, still on all fours since it was easier to run like that despite his slightly longer hind legs, and as he turned instinctively south west, he realised where he was going. The road cut through a rocky pass that was blanketed in thick trees, and if he was careful about it, he might be able to get there before Odessa’s little red car did. He could watch her.

He knew it was stupid and reckless and dangerous, but the wolf leapt at the thought of catching up to their mate, as though it had become a game of long-distance tag.

They did make it to the promontory before her, and when that red VW trundled into view, he lifted his nose to the sky and howled in triumph. The car didn’t stop though. It didn’t slow, and the sound died in his throat. She didn’t know he was there. She couldn’t sense him the way he could feel her, like a tug on his soul.

The wolf lay down on the rock with his muzzle on his paws and watched the car vanish for a second time. The day drifted by, and he didn’t stir for hours. He felt the moon rising though — another tug in his chest like the pull of his mate, only even more primal — and he threw back his head again and sang his heartache out to her like a child crying to his mother. The moon had always been there for him, in a way his own mother never had been. Ruth Kirkbride was a hard woman, all sharp angles and cutting words, even when her boys had been young children, but the moon was soft curves and gentle guidance, and he lost himself to the wolf that night for the first time in years.

When he woke up, it was to the sound of a car engine and running water, and he panicked. Looking around, he found a small, human building made from cut trees. A cabin.

Shit, he thought, realising exactly what he’d done. His wolf had brought him to the place where his mate’s scent was strongest and he’d lain like an oversized hound outside the door, waiting for her to come back.

And now someone was here to tend to the cabin and ready it for the next visitors. He growled. They were going to destroy her scent with chemicals that burned his nose, and —

Hide!

The wolf took him into the trees in a swirl of dark fur and he lay low in the bracken, just as he had that first night when he’d glimpsed Odessa through the pines in the dark. Except the person who drove up to the cabin and got out of the 4x4 was not Odessa. It was Tala. He backed away and skirted many miles around to avoid her, following the soft calling of Thunder’s warm baritone, checking in. He lifted his muzzle while he paused to lap at another fast-flowing stream and, with his chops still running with icy water, he told them he was coming back.

Slinking back into his house like a thief, Gabe felt ashamed of himself. He forced the shift to ripple through him the moment he was indoors and he hobbled upstairs to run himself a bath. Odessa’s scent filled the bedroom and he considered climbing into bed and losing himself in it for a while, but he knew he should wash the mud off his hands and feet and make himself feel human again. The wolf was angry and brooding, unsettled by the absence of his mate from the den, and confused about why they weren’t going after her.

Gabe phoned in sick after his bath and curled up under the sheets, burying his nose in Odessa’s pillow before exhaustion claimed him and he slept the rest of the day away. It was only the yipping rebukes of Mia that brought him to consciousness again, and after nuzzling once more at Odessa’s pillow and filling his lungs with the scent of her, he got up, dressed, and went to take proper care of his dogs.

Life resumed its pattern after that, though it was hard to keep his focus. It got better when he acquired a smartphone and had an engineer come out to install internet at his cabin. Odessa’s answering selfie had taken him off guard, and when he hit video-call it had gone a long way to quieting his pacing wolf once more. She looked happy and safe. Jake had not resurfaced. She’d been out with her friends, who were apparently dying to meet him and had teased her endlessly about falling in love like it was a Hallmark movie. 

She was also looking at job options, but she seemed a little cagey about the details, so he left that subject alone for the time being and made a note to ask Carys if she knew of anything that might appeal to Odessa in the area. The park service must need some kind of legal team, though he was embarrassed to admit to himself that he had no idea what that might involve. He knew the woods and how they worked, but much beyond that was a foggy mystery to him. Until Odessa, he’d never had any reason to think much about it.

A week after Odessa had returned to the city, he opened his piece of shit laptop and began an email to his brother. It took eleven drafts and three complete re-writes to get something he was confident about, and before he lost his nerve completely, he hit send at 2:03am. 

Raph,

It’s been a while, I know. Somehow it’s almost Christmas and the last email you had from me was back in the spring. I hope you’re doing ok. I think about you a lot.

Something’s happened in my life lately that’s made me rethink a lot of stuff, and I know I’ve not been the brother I maybe used to be, and certainly not the brother you deserved, and I truly am sorry for that. We were out of touch for so long, and when we started to email again all those years later, it was all so distant and cold. I’ve been alone for a long time, and I never expected to find someone out here that I wanted to share my life with, but it’s happened all the same. I met someone while she was visiting, and she’s my One, Raph. I know it. We’re mated. She lives in the city though, and for the time being, we have to do distance. It’s been rough, but I’m handling it better than I thought I would. We talk every day, which helps.

I know I don’t have any right to ask you for favours, but I have one to ask of you anyway. I’d like to visit my mate for a weekend, but you know as well as I do that I’ll have to speak to mother first. Would you advocate for me if it becomes necessary? I don’t want to interfere with the pack — I don’t intend to see anyone or involve myself with pack business while I’m visiting at all, though if you wanted to meet somewhere neutral, I’d love that.

Let me know your answer when you can.

Gabe

 Less than a day later, Raph had replied.

Gabe,

I could hardly believe my eyes when I read your last email. It’s always good to hear from you again, though I was surprised to hear that you’re mated! She must be one hell of a woman. Can’t promise she’ll let you stay, but if you need someone in your corner, Gabe, you have me. When are you planning to come? Let me know and I’ll set something formal up for you with mother. She won’t like it, but she’ll at least have to give you an audience.

Raph

Relief flooded through him so violently that his vision swam and he sat back against the soft sofa cushions, dizzy. The fans on his brick of a laptop whirred and for a moment he wondered if the sound was in his own skull it was so loud. His heart thudded and the early morning light felt far too bright against his eyes. Outside, snow had piled up on the gravel and on the roof of his house, insulating it like a proper den in the winter, and the wolf-dogs were loving the snowfall. He could hear Mia already haring around the enclosure, snapping at snowflakes and careering to a sliding halt, face first, ass in the air as she troughed through the snow like a pig in mud. Even Axel was enjoying himself.

Did Odessa like the snow? The realisation that he had no idea suddenly pained him, and he shook himself. That discovery could wait. Hitting her contact info in his recent calls list, he was three rings in when he realised it was six o’clock in the morning on a Saturday, but it was too late now. She answered blearily, the phone camera struggling in the dark room, and his heart clenched at the sight of her looking so sweetly dishevelled and sleepy.

“Morning,” he grinned apologetically.

“What?” she frowned, squinting in the light of her phone as she fumbled for the light beside her. “What is it?”

“I’ve been emailing my brother,” he said. That got her attention, and he smiled as she came more sharply awake.

“Oh?”

He nodded. “Raph said he’ll advocate for me. I’d… I’d like to come and see you…” he said, trying to ignore the fact that his sudden burst of courage and elation was sputtering out like a guttering candle flame. “If that’s still alright?” If she was having second thoughts about having him there, it would crush him, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to keep it off his face.

“Alright?” she practically shrieked at him, grinning so that her cheeks bunched up in a way that made him want to hold them in his hands.

She scrabbled around like an upturned spider, flailing with one hand get the duvet out of the way, and revealed her adorable cupcake pyjamas in the process. The neckline sank down to reveal her bare collarbones and Gabe ached all over to run his teeth over them and suck bruises into her delicate skin and cover her with the scent of him so that she would know he was hers. Instead, she caught him looking and he smiled bashfully.

“Of course it’s alright! Yes! When? I was going to suggest making a trip to see you soon, but that works too, if you’re sure about it?”

“I’m sure,” he said, trying not to sound too intense. “How does next weekend sound?”

A look of wide-eyed joy spread across her face. “Yes! Oh my god, perfect!” she actually made some kind of inhuman screeching noise that got a bit garbled over her phone’s microphone, but he didn’t overly mind. He was fairly certain Thunder and the others would have been able to hear it. “Why are you awake now anyway?” she asked. “You do know what a weekend is, right?”

“Yeah,” he chuckled. “I’m sorry. I’ve just picked up Raph’s message. He’s an early morning person too, so…”

“Oh my god, you’ve only just this second heard back from him?” she asked. He wondered fleetingly how she could have been a good lawyer when she wore all her emotions so plainly on her face, but perhaps she was different when she was at work. The thought of seeing her dressing down some scumbag in a courtroom made him unexpectedly hot under the collar, and he nearly missed her next question, which followed on the heels of the first without waiting for an answer. “…long will you be staying?”

He scrubbed at his beard and thought idly that he needed to trim it, and shrugged. “I’d set off early from here on Saturday morning to be with you by about nine or ten, and then, if she lets me stay, I’d go back on Sunday night or Monday morning. Does that work?”

“Of course,” she said, and he could practically feel the excitement rolling off her. God, he wished he could smell it too — practically taste the way her body was reacting — but he would have to make do with just being able to see her. His mate. God, she looked so happy. That was miracle enough for him, he supposed.

__

Hopefully one day there'll be Season Two of Gabe and Odessa - I've written bits and bobs and snippets of it, and I know the rough outline. It just takes a lot of time and effort...

If you enjoyed this, which I hope you did, please consider reblogging it, as well as the original Season One story.

Take care of yourselves, and I hope you have a lovely day/night wherever you are, and whenever you read this.

| Masterlist | Ko-fi (tip jar)

[dancerinthestorm]

Fic Recs: Awesome OFCs edition

For some reason OCs tend to draw a lot of fire in certain fandom circles but I love them unapologetically. For me they are a brilliant way to add something new, something unexpected to a well known and well loved story. So, here‘s my utterly incomplete list of „fics that should be read for their awesome OFCs alone“.

Make way Lizzie Bennett, Sophie Hatter and Tiffany Aching, there are a some new girls in town! 😁

Theodora Byrne in @esta-elavaris epic "Catch the Wind" (AO3).

Oh dear, where to start. I am forever in love with Theo. I'd kill for her, I'd die for her. Her sass, her indomitable spirit, her way of throwing poor James Norrington off kilter. The whole story is just shy of 418k words and a beautiful, terrifying beast to behold. I unwisely started it on a Friday night shortly before going to bed and simply could not stop until my darling, long-suffering husband put his foot down on Sunday and made me eat, drink, shower, sleep and (most cruelly) sent me off on Monday morning to resume adulting.

I'm not sure if I should own up to it in public but to tell you the truth: I have not been able to pick it up since that day. Not because I do not want to (oh how I want to!) but because I am afraid. Afraid that the story will end and I am not ready for it. Afraid for what might happen to Theo and James. When I left them in chapter 63/101 they were happy, comfortable and (relatively) save but with the whole ordeal of "At World's End" still ahead of them.

Should you still put down everything else to read it? Yes! Absolutely! Go! Now! Shoo! And don't be a wuss like me, the story deserves so much more!

Pirates of the Carribeans. James Norrington x OFC. Rated E.

***

Nika in "This Destiny is Mine" (AO3) by @messy-insomniac-bookgirl

I knew I was done for when one of my favourite authors decided to let one of her gorgeous female leads tackle one of literature’s most heinous crimes: The fate of Boromir. No way I would not root for her, rage with her, fear for her, laugh with her. A beautifully nuanced and overall kick-ass female lead that I cannot get enough of.

The story itself is not too long yet and is intriguingly hard to place. The author calls it a fix-it. And it is... but also not... not really... It gives us an OFC but she's no 10th walker. It has already made me feel everything it is humanly possible to feel, sometimes within the span of one short chapter alone.

Amazing storytelling and I cannot wait to find out where this journey will take Nika.

Lord of the Rings. Boromir x OFC. Rated E.

***

Jenya in Bramandian0336's "Black Honey" (AO3)

Having to deal with the emotional hot house that is Kylo Ren/Ben Solo is nothing for the faint-hearted and calls for especially intrepid female leads. So, this list would be utterly incomplete without her.

Meet, Jeyna: historian, archeologist and - suddenly and unnervingly - subject of Kylo Ren's scrutiny. I absolutely devoured her stroy with all it's amazing world building, obscure Star Wars lore and action.

Star Wars. Kylo Ren/Ben Solo x OFC. Rated E.

***

Asta in "Where I am needed most" (AO3) by @scyllas-revenge

Unable or unwilling to commit to any of the literary behemoths above? Then I have just the thing for you! A beautiful one-shot set in the chaos of the Battle of Helm's Deep. Wonderfully dense story telling garnished with spot on characterizations. Headstrong, brave, resourceful, sharp-tongued Asta is a sight to behold and I could not get enough of her clashing with Eomer.

Eomer/OFC. Idiots in love, shouting matches and kisses. Rated T.

****

As mentioned: this list is totally incomplete. Please feel free to yell your own favourites at me in the comment section, regardless of fandom! 😁

And as always: a huge shout out to all the authors for your time, your talent and your dedication! You guys are absolute rock stars!

[a-dwellers-time]

Time to kick this off this AU! Hat Kid and Mustache Girl are ready answer questions for the Dweller AU! To find out more about this AU, ask away! The story won’t reveal itself.

It’s a new Co-op AU me and my sister, @anautisticartist, Are both authors of. Due to limitations of what i can draw, their appearances are mostly feline, Apologies if that puts any fans off.

yet again it’s not required for people to even find this blog so what the peck…

As the blog progresses, more characters will join in! So stick around to ask them some questions if who you’re curious about here hasn’t arrived yet.

[oh-hush-its-perfect]

Alex Fierro's Introduction Full Breakdown

Okokok so. This is going to go full English-professor mode, where I'm drawing conclusions that are gonna seem a little far-fetched. That's what's fun about media analysis! I can say something is a symbol, and even if I don't have enough faith in RR's competency to know if he meant for it to be a symbol, it's still true! That being said, a lot of these choices I'm sure are intentional, either at a literal or subliminal level. Page numbers are going to be used not to assert a kind of authority or whatever— this is a Tumblr post, not an essay— but to help readers find the pages I'm referencing in case they'd like to do some digging of their own. Also, this is going to be really long. Really sorry to anyone with ADHD; I might make an audiofile of this so you can get the information without having to read the whole thing. With all that, let's get into it!

To kick off, let's talk about Alex being in the form of a cheetah when she first meets Magnus. Of course, there's the obvious impact of him seeing her but only so breifly, as well as introducing the conflict between her and the rest of Hall 19. But that could have easily been accomplished by almost any animal. The choice of a cheetah being implicated implies two qualities of Alex that will be recurrent throughout the two books she's in: 1. She has a tendency to run away, as we'll later learn when she describes how she became homeless, and 2. To Magnus, she's elusive. She can't be caught or held down. The event that shows this so transparently is how Alex refuses to define their relationship at the end of the series, despite it clearly surpassing the normal bounds of friendship.

But the cheetah isn't the animal Alex is in the form of when Magnus first gets a good look at her; she's a weasel. Weasel's bring up all kinds of connotations: ferocity, slickness, a lack of charm. When we want to describe someone as an untrustworthy person, we call them a weasel. RR had Alex take this form to play up her comrades' feeling of distrust towards her. She could be a double-crosser. But paradoxically, the up-front and vicious mannerisms of a weasel also have a transperency. She does not try appealing to her Hallmate's sense of goodwill because she doesn't have anything to gain from it. So even though there is the implication that she might be an antagonist, there's also evidence from her actions and mannerisms that she isn't. The weasel's long and skinny frame also allow for a smooth transition into Alex's actual body, which is convenient.

As Alex transforms into her usual human form, Magnus describes her as "a regular human teen, long and lanky, with a swirl of dyed green hair, black at the roots, like a plug of weeds pulled out of a lawn" (pg. 50). That simile at the end is of particular interest. Let's compare it to another time Magnus describes Alex's hair, in Ship of the Dead: "Her hair had started to grow out, the black roots making her look even more imposing, like a lion with a healthy mane" (pg. 136). By contrasting these two different examples, we can see the development of Magnus and Alex's relationship. The first time he sees her, he thinks of her hair as something nasty— note the word choice "weeds." Later on, though, he becomes more affectionate towards her, more complentary. The immedient negative reaction is less his actual impression, though, and more the reaction he expected to have based on everyone else's reaction to Alex.

Her clothes are equally as interesting; as Magnus describes it, Alex wears "battered rose high-tops, skinny lime green corduroy pants, a pink-and-green argyle sweater-vest over a white tee, and another pink cashmere sweather wrapped around the waist like a kilt" (pg. 50). Aside from the obvious fact that this outfit is a) bizzare, b) fire, and c) Alex's signature colors, which add a layer of style to what can otherwise be a somewhat boring series fashion-wise (excuse me, Blitz), the outfit reveals a crucial facet of Alex's backstory in a kind of subtle way. These are expensive clothes, like the Stella McCartney dress in Alex's room. Note the mention of fabrics (corduroy, cashmere) and patterns (argyle). These indicate wealth and status. Even the high-tops; shoes like that don't come cheap. But I'd like to return to the very first word of the section: "battered." Alex's wardrobe show-cases a proximity to wealth, but also shows that that proximity has been strained and lengthened, maybe for an extended period of time. Alex dresses like a rich person, but she isn't one. Least, not anymore.

The last word of that outfit-introduction is also of interest: "kilt." At the current moment, Magnus thinks that Alex is male. No one has indicated otherwise to him. Everyone has been referring to Alex with he/him pronouns. Samirah called Alex her "brother" (pg. 29). His first thought in seeing what he at first perceives as a guy with a jacket wrapped around the waist is That looks like a kilt. This thought tells us about Magnus: despite being open and accepting, he still has some lingering notions of gender conformity from his years in wider American society.

Magnus also indicates that the outfit "reminded me of a jester's motley, or the coloration of a venomous animal warning the whole world" (pg. 50). This is rather self-explanatory, but it's still worth noting that Magnus sees the outfit as something bizzare, strange, and even perhaps comical. This places Alex at odds with the other people Magnus has met. It also reveals that Magnus has zero fashion sense. But we already knew that.

After finishing up staring at the ensemble, Magnus finally gets around to actually looking Alex in the face. First Magnus says that he "forgot how to breathe" (pg. 50), which, yeah, relatable. This is justifed by saying that Alex has the same face as Loki, but the very same sentence that asserts that that's the case also suggests an alternative reason: Alex has "the same unearthly beauty" as her father. Here we can see the beginnings of Magnus's attraction to Alex, though at this point, he still has a lot of internalized homophobia. Though there's certainly some truth in that Magnus was unnerved by Alex's resemblance to Loki, the idea that Magnus pointed out that Alex was pretty without elaborating on that thought until about a chapter later— after he was informed that Alex was presently a girl— can tell us a lot about how Magnus perceives sex and beauty.

Of course, Alex's eyes are given special attention. She has cool eyes; what can I say? But I'd like to focus in on how Magnus here depicts Alex's heterochromia as "completely unnerving" (pg. 50). Again, let's contrast this with how he describes them after getting to know Alex a little better in Ship of the Dead. In Chapter 3, Magnus describes "[Alex's] dark brown eye and his amber eye like mismatched moons cresting the horizon" (pg. 25). Once again, this shows the development of their relationship— but this time, it's in a much more personal way. Eyes are the windows to the soul; they are culturally important and biologically important in inter-personal connections. In you look into someone's eyes, you're giving them your full attention, and you're implying a kind of closeness. The way that Magnus describes Alex's eyes in the second passage is downright intimate. At this point, he is in love with Alex, and it is clear when contrasting the two descriptions.

As my last point, I'd like to discuss Alex's first words on page: "'Point that rifle somewhere else, or I will wrap it around your neck like a bow tie'" (pg. 51). First of all, Alex saying this with a "perfect white smile" (pg. 51) on his face implies that she is used to being threatened. She is not afraid of being shot; she counters the promise of an attack with a promise of her own. This pleads the question: why is Alex accustomed to violence? What events of her past or qualities of her life have brought her to this point? The threat itself reveals Alex's trauma from being genderfluid in a society with rigid gender norms, as well as her antagonistic relationship with her father. Magnus makes a comment that Alex "might actually know how to tie a bow tie, which was kind scary arcane knowledge" (pg. 51). Like Alex's wardrobe, the idea that she may have experience in high-class fashion also implies her former status as a rich kid.

I could go on. I could break apart Alex saying "'Pleased to meet you all, I guess'" (pg. 51). There is a wealth of information in this short page span that tells us things about Alex Fierro in the present moment, quietly demonstrates things about her past, and characterizes the narrator Magnus Chase. This passage is also effective in hindsight in marking the progress of Magnus and Alex's relationship.

But I'd like to take a step back and look at not the pieces, but the whole picture. Alex Fierro gets a full page of pure description— her outfit, her face— and about a chapter of introduction. This comes after several chapters of build-up. Alex Fierro is an important character you need to keep your eyes on. Alex Fierro is emotionally significant to the main character, Magnus Chase. Alex Fierro is one of the most developed and well-rounded characters that Rick Riordan has ever written— heck, she's one of the best characters in middle-grade books period. The extended emphasis on her and her alone tells us exactly what role she's going to play in this story: she's the star.

[hrina]

The Thrill of the Chase, Pt. I

PAIRING: Harry x Reader RATING: M WORD COUNT: 3.6k REQUESTED: no

hi! it’s been a while since i’ve posted something on here lol, i wonder if anyone still remembers me 🤕

this is PART 1 of the hunter!AU that i’ve been writing. while the story is a patreon-exclusive, my patrons gave me permission to post the first chapter here on tumblr for anyone who’s curious about the kind of content i offer on patreon. 

if you want to read the rest of this series and unlock access to my other exclusive work, you can sign up for my patreon here. and as always, please reblog the fics you like and leave feedback for the authors, because we pour a lot of time and effort into our stories. happy reading 💌

~*~

Harry’s life is simple.

He performs only the essentials—wakes up and eats an apple for breakfast. Drizzles some lemon juice into his flask of water to keep his teeth healthy and clean. Shrugs on a few heavy furs. Lets Magnus outside to keep him from howling and pawing at the door. Sharpens his arrows. Knocks on the threshold of the cabin once for good luck. Goes hunting.

Upon returning, he crouches next to the firepit, laying out his kills and skinning them. He cooks one for himself—something small, like a squirrel, or a rabbit. Others, he saves for the market—fox, deer, coyote, boar. The pelts, tusks, and antlers are extremely sought-after (particularly by nobles), and often earn enough coin to carry him through the rest of the week.

He doesn’t entertain visitors, because who in their right mind would trek up the side of a mountain just to seek out one lonely hunter? Despite that, he’s come to appreciate his solitude. The silence is familiar—comfortable. Besides, Magnus proves both excellent and useful company, if the sheer volume of their kills offers any indication.

A simple life for a simple man.

Harry doesn’t need anyone else.

“Ready to go, mutt?”

He scratches behind Magnus’ droopy ears. One of the hound’s hindlegs thumps frantically in response. Harry chuckles, slinging his bow over his right shoulder and pulling open the cabin door.

“Come on, then.”

The sky is a dark, cloudy grey, and the smell of oncoming rain is unmistakable. Still, the two of them persevere, ducking past the trees at the edge of the clearing.

It’s a bad day to hunt.

With the threat of a storm looming just above the canopy, the animals have forgone their typical foraging patterns in favour of taking shelter. Harry only manages to kill a rabbit, and even then, it’s a messy shot. He usually gets them right through the eye—a quick, neat splice that results in minimal suffering. This time, however, his foot slips on a damp stone; he fumbles, and the arrow buries itself into the creature’s stomach.

“Fuck.”

The rabbit is still alive when he reaches it, its furry body heaving with shaky, uneven breaths. Harry kneels down, apologising quietly. His hand finds the scabbard strapped to his waist, and he draws a silver dagger from its depths.

He slits the poor hare’s throat just as rain begins to fall.

It’s easy work, after that. He pins the animal’s fluffy forelimbs together, tying them in place with thick, coarse rope. Magnus whimpers as Harry slides the creature’s limp body over his shoulder. He shoots the hound a tired look and shakes his head. Damp brown curls stick to his temples.

“Think that’s enough for today.”

The two of them have nearly made it back home—Harry’s boots squelch as he jumps over the small creek that flows close to the clearing—when Magnus perks up, lifting his snout and sniffing the air.

“What is it, mutt?” Harry asks.

Magnus releases a loud bark and takes off in the direction of the cabin. Harry sprints after him, one hand clutching his game while the other wraps around the leather grip of his bow.

“Magnus!” he yells.

The dog skids to a stop next to the wide trunk of a tree. He barks again and wags his tail feverishly.

Harry releases his bow, approaching with slow, cautious steps.

“What’s got you so—shit.”

You’re slumped in the mud, unconscious. Harry’s gaze rakes over your form, from your tattered blue gown to the leaves and twigs tangled in your hair. There are a few cuts littered across your face, arms, and chest. Rivulets of blood trickle down your wrist, spiderwebbing across your skin.

Magnus sticks his tongue out and pants.

“Good boy,” Harry mutters, bestowing a rugged caress atop the hound’s head.

He gathers you into his arms, paying no mind to the extra weight of your sodden dress. Your neck lolls over his bicep, sternum rising and falling with shallow, barely-there breaths. Harry carries you out of the forest and into the clearing. When he kicks open the cabin door, your eyelids flutter.

“Bear?” you mumble, lifting your head slightly. Your voice is grating, hoarse.

He looks at you. Your face contorts for only a moment before you slouch back into oblivion.

He sets you down onto the thick, woven rug splayed out in front of the hearth. He works quickly, shrugging off his furs and his game and discarding all of it without a second thought. Rain thrums against the roof, but the sound is lost amidst his heavy footsteps.

He hurries into his bedroom and pulls open the top drawer of his wooden dresser, fumbling for a glass jar and a spool of bandages. When his fingers finally make contact with the desired supplies, he darts back into the other room and kneels beside your motionless body.

He draws his dagger again, gripping the intricate material of your gown and slicing through it. Your corset proves far more challenging, practically embedded into your skin. He sets his knife aside, not willing to risk it. Instead, he hooks his fingers beneath the top of the girdle, rough knuckles brushing against your soft bosom. With a mighty tug, the structured fabric splits under his palms.

He screws open the lid on the jar and dips his thumb inside. The salve is sticky, viscous, and smells faintly of lavender. He smears it across your scrapes before inspecting your wrist.

The flesh is slashed and bloodied—how did you acquire such an injury? Canines? Claws? Harry uses the frayed edges of your dress to clean the mess. He then unwinds a few bindings from their roll, expertly bandaging your wound.

Once he’s finished, he sits back on his haunches, expelling a stale breath. His work is far from over—he needs to wash you, to scrub off all the dirt and grime staining your skin. He’ll go down to the creek with a cloth, he thinks, and saturate it with cool water. He’ll pick the leaves and branches out of your hair, and cover you in spare furs to keep you warm. He’ll prepare a hot meal so that you may eat when you wake. You’ll be ravenous, certainly.

These thoughts whirl around in his head, along with the realisation that you might expire here, lying on an old rug in the middle of a stranger’s secluded home. Still, he watches your chest rise, swelling with proof of your vitality. The sight puts him at ease.

Harry aims a cursory glance over his shoulder. Magnus is stationed at the door, wet snout resting on the ground. The dog gazes at your limp body with big, solemn eyes, as though he somehow understands the severity of the situation.

“Don’t worry, mutt,” Harry tells him, knees shuffling against the floor. “I won’t let her die.”

~*~

Three days pass.

Harry curtails the duration of his hunts. He kills only the essentials: a hare or a squirrel, something small enough to cook over the fire. He has enough coin saved up from his previous trades to last him another few trips to the market.

Every morning, he prepares a simple, homely meal for you should you wake. When you do not, he eats the food in your place—he’ll be damned if it goes to waste.  

On the fourth day, he carries a bowl of soup into his room. He’s expecting to see you tucked into his bed, still unconscious. Instead, you’re alert, sitting upright and studying your surroundings. The furs that previously covered your body now pool around your waist, exposing your naked chest. When you catch sight of Harry lingering in the doorway, you gasp, fumbling for the pelts and clutching them to your sternum.

“You’re up,” he says gruffly, stepping through the threshold.

You scramble back, eyes widening in fear. He pauses.

You’re afraid, he realises, tilting his head to the side. This may be more difficult than he initially thought.

“Soup,” he says slowly, holding out the small clay bowl in his hands. “You need to eat.”

“Who are you?” you ask. Your voice is patchy and frail. “Where am I?”

He sets the dish down onto his dresser before shooting you a stern, expectant look.

“Eat.”

Upon exiting the room, he strains his ears and listens carefully. The creak of a loose floorboard—you’ve climbed out of bed. The sound of nimble footsteps pattering across the ground—you’re moving toward the door. And finally, the quiet scrape of clay against wood, indicating that your hunger has prevailed.

He nods to himself.

You’re not dead. That’s a start.

~*~

That evening, Harry is perched next to the firepit outside the cabin. The orange sun crawls down the horizon, kissing the tops of the trees. He basks in the warmth, knowing that it will soon be eradicated by the cool chill of nightfall.

He fiddles with the spit poised above the flames. He caught another rabbit, today. The creature’s fur is laid out across the grass, scrubbed clean of blood. The rest of it cooks over the fire, darkening with each passing minute.

A faint creak reaches Harry’s ears. He perks up, glancing at the door.

You hover just beyond the threshold, leaning nervously against the strong wooden beams. Harry relaxes and turns back around. He uses a long stick to poke at the charred logs; the kindling pops, and a few embers float into the air.

“What are you doing?” Your inquiry is soft, shaky.

His reply is curt: “Dinner.”

You approach warily, bare feet treading through the grass. When you spot the hunk of meat roasting over the flames, a feeble gasp tumbles from your lips.

“That’s barbaric.”

Harry rubs his palms against his thighs. “That’s sustenance.”

He stands, and you retreat. His attention then falls to your torso. You’ve covered yourself with the furs from his room; they hang just past the swell of your bottom, rendering you exceptionally vulnerable. Goosebumps crop up on your bare thighs, visible in the golden light of the sunset.

He hums. “You need clothes.”

You look down at the ground.

“That would be nice,” you whisper at last.

He merely grunts in response.

You follow him back inside, albeit from a distance. He strolls into his bedroom, pausing in front of a large trunk shoved against the far wall. Twin latches click open, and he begins rifling through its contents. After a few moments of silence, he produces a pale linen shirt and a pair of dark leather trousers.

“Here,” he says.

He dumps the fabric into your arms. You huff in surprise, instinctively relinquishing your hold on the pelts covering your body. They fall to the floor in a heap, exposing every inch of your skin.

An embarrassed squeak echoes in the back of your throat. Harry averts his eyes, staring pointedly up at the ceiling.

“Put those on,” he murmurs.

You nod quickly, sidestepping his broad frame. Now that you’re no longer in his line of sight, he lowers his gaze. Part of him wonders if he should say something else, but he decides against it. His legs carry him forward, and he disappears through the door.

~*~

You emerge from the bedroom a short while later, smoothing your hands over your hair in an attempt to look a bit more presentable. Harry resists the urge to tell you that here, in the mountains, appearances are hardly significant. He doesn’t own a mirror—such luxuries can only be afforded by the rich.

His clothes are too big on you, but that was to be expected. You’ve rolled up the sleeves of his linen shirt and cuffed the brown leather trousers so that they cinch at your ankles. You’re anxious, incisors gnawing on your bottom lip and eyes darting around the clearing, like you’re waiting for a monster to burst forth from the bushes.

“Here.”

Harry cuts a sliver of meat from the cooked rabbit carcass resting on the spit. You sit down on a wide, round tree stump as he holds the food out in your direction.

At first, he thinks that you may vomit. Fortunately, though, he finds himself mistaken. After a long moment of deliberation, you accept the protein, bringing it up to your nose and sniffing it warily.

“It’s good,” he rasps, slicing off another strip for himself. “Rabbit—all white meat.”

He pops the piece into his mouth and chews. Slowly, you copy him, sighing happily as newfound flavour erupts over your tongue. You waste no time, then, impatiently shoving the rest of the meat into your mouth.

Harry’s lips twitch.

“Thank you,” you say after swallowing.

He simply nods. The two of you continue to eat in silence, grinding the remnants of supper between your teeth.

Eventually, your curiosity overwhelms you.

“What’s you name?” you ask, timid.

Harry sits back, wiping his dagger with the hem of his cotton shirt.

“Harry.”

“And how did you find me, Harry?”

A low chuckle resonates in the back of his throat.

“Wasn’t exactly hard. You were lying in a puddle of mud not far from here.”

Your lips part. “How long have I been asleep?”

“Three days.”

“Three days?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t remember any of it,” you say softly, playing with your fingers. You hesitate before elaborating: “But I—I remember seeing your face. I thought you were a bear.”

He recalls that day, how you lifted your head weakly and uttered the word before sinking back into unconsciousness. It led him to believe that you’d been attacked. Your side of the story, however, proves much more entertaining.

“Well,” he says, exhaling brusquely, “I’m not.”

You examine him with big, tender eyes. He shifts awkwardly under the intensity of your gaze.

“No,” you finally agree. “You’re not.”

He swallows and flips the conversation around.

“Who are you?”

You stiffen, caught off-guard.

“That is…hardly relevant.”

“Perhaps,” Harry says. “But it is fair.”

When you don’t reply, he continues.

“You’re a lady, aren’t you?” he guesses. “A duchess. Your gown was too pretty to have belonged to a commoner.”

“My gown?” You perk up at the mention of the dress. “Where is it?”

“Gone. I tore through it.”

You gasp. “Why on earth would you do that?”

“It was the only way to keep you alive,” he says simply. “Your corset was impeding your ability to breathe.”

“My corset…” you mutter, mostly to yourself. You grimace after registering the implications of his words, thoroughly scandalized. “So, you—you—?”

“Yes. I had to.”

“God,” you choke out, covering your mouth. “How dare you? You should have just—!”

“Let you die?”

His query successfully squashes your disapproval; your lips flatten into a thin line, and you say nothing else. Harry watches the creases in your forehead dwindle as you realise that he’s right. You fiddle with the collar of your shirt, turning to the side and regaining your composure.

“Thank you,” you finally murmur, trying to hide your face from his piercing stare, “for not letting me die.”

He grunts. “You’re welcome.”

Brief silence ensues. A light breeze blows through the clearing, tousling the curls atop Harry’s head. The gust is enough to extinguish the last few flames frolicking over the kindle, until glowing embers are all that remain.

“I am a lady,” you suddenly add, though you refuse to meet his eyes. “But not a duchess.”

Harry leans forward, prodding at the residual ash in the firepit.

“What were you doing in the woods?”

You tinker with the bandages wrapped around your injured wrist.

“I was to be wed,” you confess, peeking up at him. “But I—I could not bear to go through with it. One should not marry for duty, but rather—”

“For love?”

You pause at his intrusion, lips parted in surprise.

“Yes,” you breathe. “For love.”

Your gazes lock. He clears his throat, breaking the contact quickly.

“You ran away, then.”

It’s not a question. You nod, and he hums.

“What is it?” you ask, brows knitting together.

“Nothing. It’s just…I may find good fortune in this situation.”

“How so?”

He shrugs. “Any man with sense would carry you down this peak, deliver you back to your family, and collect a hefty reward.”

Though he’s not looking at you, he can tell that you’ve recoiled.

“Please don’t,” you whisper.

He examines your face in the periphery of his vision. Your eyes glisten with unshed tears.

Just then, Magnus races out of the cabin, his tail wagging eagerly behind him. He trots over to you, sniffing your shoulder and releasing a high-pitched whine. You use one hand to swipe hastily at your cheeks; the other migrates to his head, tickling his floppy ears.

Harry watches the interaction unfold, completely stunned.

“He—he likes you.”

You glance over at him, still wary of his previous threat.

“I suppose he does,” you say quietly.

Magnus paws at your thighs. You direct your attention back to the keen bloodhound, pressing a feathery kiss to the tip of his wet nose.

Harry blinks a few times, trying to pinpoint the reason for his mutt’s newfound behaviour. At first, he wonders if his eyes are simply playing tricks on his brain. Yet with each flutter of his lids, the sight before him only seems to solidify.

“He doesn’t usually take well to strangers,” he mumbles.

When you don’t respond, he clenches his jaw tightly. Countless thoughts zoom through his head, spinning like wheels, tangling like thread.

Any man with sense would carry you down this peak, deliver you back to your family, and collect a hefty reward.

Harry is not a sensible man.

~*~

The three of you retreat indoors when the last shards of sunlight fade from the sky. Magnus circles the large woven rug poised in front of the hearth. Eventually, he collapses onto the mat, his snout drooping over his front paws. You stretch your arms into the air and yawn gently.

Harry is the last one to enter the cabin; he shuts the door behind him.

“Thank you again for dinner,” you say lightly.

You spin around and nearly crash into the hard barrier of his chest. Reflexively, his hands fly up to grasp your biceps, steadying you. He peers down at your face in the darkness, his thoughtful gaze tracing the contours of your cheeks. Your eyes are wide, lips split apart as you suck in air.

“Sorry,” you say, frozen in place.

He only grunts, releasing your arms and stepping away.

Your attention lingers on him as he approaches a wide pile of furs stacked into the corner of the room. He’s been sleeping on the makeshift cot for the past three nights, and though his back is always sore the next morning, he has yet to find a better alternative.

“What are you…?” You hesitate, rethinking your question. “What is that?”

“My bed.”

“Do you…always sleep there?”

“No,” he rasps, lowering himself onto the thick pelts. “I prefer to sleep in my room.”

He shoots you a pointed look, and you frown when the realisation sinks in.

“We—we can switch,” you say, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. “I don’t want to impose.”

“No.”

“I insist.” You try again.

“As do I.”

You clamp your mouth shut, unsure of how to respond. Magnus has already dozed off—his soft snores filter through the heavy silence hanging over your heads.

“He’s lovely,” you suddenly say, referring to the quiescent hound. “Well-trained, too.”

“I won’t take credit for that,” Harry grumbles, rubbing his palms against his thighs. “He was a palace dog.”

You blink. “W-what?”

“A palace dog,” he repeats. “I found him alone in the woods after a hunt. His leg was broken—the guards left him there to die.”

“That’s awful.”

He hums in agreement.

“You took him in, then,” you say. When he nods, you add, “It seems that you have a knack for nursing others back to health.”

He doesn’t reply.

“The hunts—” you start, chewing nervously on your bottom lip. “Do they…occur frequently?”

“Why do you ask?” Harry says. His shoulders wobble with a hollow chuckle. “Are you afraid of being caught?”

You inhale sharply, and he realises that yes, you are.

“No,” he says, shaking his head. Subconsciously, his voice drops an octave, taking on a soothing quality. “They don’t come around often. And even if they did, I doubt that a single runaway lady would be of much concern.”

You blow out a relieved sigh, though the uneasy expression on your face never wanes.

“You’re probably right.”

A few hushed seconds draw out, during which neither of you speak. Your bare feet shuffle clumsily against the cold floor. You appear to be waiting for some sort of cue—a sound, a gesture, anything.

“Er—” Harry breaks the peace, cocking one eyebrow. “I sleep naked.”

“Oh.”

The exclamation is unbelievably breathless. Your throat bobs amidst a difficult swallow, and you totter back.

“Of course,” you stammer. “I’ll just—”

With a trembling hand, you motion toward the entrance of his bedroom.

He nods wordlessly.

“Right,” you mumble, retreating. “Goodnight, then…Bear.”

At that, he pauses. Your cheeks twitch with a feeble smile, but you don’t comment on the sweetness of the simple endearment.

Harry remains completely still as you scurry into his room. He sits there for a prolonged moment after the door shuts, trying to make sense of his thoughts. Your features have been stamped onto the backs of his eyelids, practically seared into the skin.

At last, warm air spills past his lips, and he allows himself to utter the low, relentless reply pulling at his tongue.

“Goodnight.”

[the-lonelybarricade]

Loved your latest chapter and Im so excited to see what happens under the mountain!

I was wondering if I could request a one-shot?(up to you how long and you can do it in your own time)something along the lines of:

Feyre( from either ACOWAR, ACOFAS or ACOSF) time travels back to ACOTAR, but instead of finding herself back in her human body i the spring court, she's still in her fae body and ends up trapped in velaris, having to explain to the rest of IC who she is and why she cant go free their highlord(add some mistrust from the IC)

🙈🙈Id its very similar to what youre doing rn with your other fic but, if you find the inspiration sometime could you please do this? Ive wanted to read a fic for ages were feyre rime travels and meets pre-acomaf inner circle who dont know/trust her, but Ive never found a fic like that

Thank youuu

Hi lovely anon! It makes me so happy you enjoyed my latest chapter! I’m supposed to be working on a project for uni, but I couldn’t resist gratifying my lovely friends (because you're anon and won't be notified I was getting sad at the idea of you checking my blog and not seeing me respond) <3 I’ll admit I’m a bit scatterbrained at the moment, so I hope it’s okay!

I was having trouble brainstorming a reason for Feyre getting sent back in time because I didn't want to borrow the reasoning from ACoFD. So I was vague and twisted the pre-existing rules around the Ouroboros, and ended up getting quite carried away with the story since I don’t like not giving things a happy ending (even though it’s a little cheesy, sorry)

Anyway, I hope this is what you were looking for! I know you wanted the angst of not being able to save Rhys but... I couldn't just leave my poor bat-boy behind, you know? ;)

Also if this didn't quite scratch that itch, I'm always happy to take more requests

Word count: 4,446

The Ouroboros.

It was a massive, round disc—as tall as Feyre was. Taller. And the metal around it had been fashioned after a massive serpent, the mirror held within its coils as it devoured its own tail.

Ending and beginning.

From across the room, Feyre could not see it. What lay within.

She forced herself to take a step forward. Another.

The mirror itself was black as night—yet… wholly clear.

She watched herself approach. Watched the arm she had upraised against the wind and snow, the pinched expression on her face. The exhaustion.

She stopped three feet away. She did not dare touch it.

It only showed Feyre herself. Nothing.

Feyre scanned the mirror for any signs of… something to push or touch with her magic. But there was only the devouring head of the serpent, its maw open wide, frost sparkling on its fangs.

Feyre stared and stared, but all she saw was herself. There was nothing else. Then—

Feyre woke with a gasp, sitting up in bed to shake away the cobwebs of sleep and the strange, foreboding feeling that felt draped around her shoulders like a weighted cape, pulling her down. It hadn’t been a particularly horrifying nightmare. In fact, it was perhaps of the tamer dreams she’d had in the last year.

Yet something about it clung to her, perhaps a lingering agitation that she’d yet to retrieve the mirror the Bone Carver had requested. That must be it.

The bed space beside her was cold. The sun peaking through the window was not high, it couldn’t be long past dawn. However worrisome her own dream, her mate’s must have been worse to draw him from sleep so early. Worse still for him to sneak away.

Feyre rose from the bed, reaching absently for Rhysand’s dressing robe to wrap around herself. She always loved to steal her mate’s clothes, to be wrapped in his scent.

With gentle steps, she made her way to the study, where she could only assume Rhys had sequestered himself in the lone hours of the night. She’d noticed the weary draw to his shoulders, the dark circles under his eyes. This war was weighing on him heavily, and he was nervous. Feyre wished he didn’t insist on shouldering the burden alone.

“Rhys?” Feyre called softly as she got to the study, knocking on the door before she cracked it open.

Peeking her head around the door, she was met with the sight of Rhysand’s abandoned study. The scattered papers and war maps that had become characteristic of his desk space were surprisingly missing. In fact, the whole space had been cleared away and there was a thick layer of dust on every surface as if no one had been in here in years.

Feyre frowned at the sight, and how different it had been just the day before. Where had all the dust come from? And more importantly, where was Rhys? Perhaps he’d taken a morning flight to clear his head.

Where are you, love? She called to him through the mating bond, but was met with silence.

“Who are you?”

The voice was cold and venomous. Feyre turned, coming face to face with Mor, whose face was twisted into a threatening scowl.

“Mor?” Feyre asked, confused by her friend’s cold demeanor. “What do you mean? Have you seen Rhys?”

Mor’s face turned deadly, a look Feyre had only ever seen from Mor in the Court of Nightmares. “Is that some kind of joke?” she snarled.

Then, before Feyre could process what was happening, Mor had gripped onto Feyre’s wrist and they were enveloped in darkness. They stepped into the House of Wind, into the dining room where Cassian and Azriel abruptly stood up.

“Mor?” Feyre questioned when the blonde didn’t release her steel grip. She looked to Cassian and Azriel quizzically. “Guys? What’s going on?”

Cassian crossed his arms, assessing Feyre with a hostility that put her on edge. “Who’s this, Mor?” he asked gruffly.

Feyre frowned as she watched Azriel reach for Truth-Teller.

“Is this a joke?” she asked, flitting her eyes to each of her friends. Where she sought that friendly warmth in each of their gazes she was met with hard stares, filled with distrust, ready for a brawl. She couldn’t make sense of it. Was this an act Rhys had put them up to?

“I found her in the townhouse,” Mor said. “I don’t know how she got in there. She was in Rhysand’s study.”

“And she’s wearing his dressing gown,” Azriel noted dryly. Cassian did a double glance, his eyes going wide, then narrowing with a rage Feyre had never seen from the male. Certainly never directed at her.

There was a whisper of shadow, then suddenly Azriel was behind her, Truth-Teller poised at her throat.

Feyre startled. “Azriel!” she said sharply. Even if it was a joke, Feyre couldn’t imagine Rhysand would sanction this kind of threat. And the energy in the room was off, the tension too thick. “Stand down.”

“And who are you,” he breathed in her ear, his voice coated in shadow and nightmare, “to command the Shadowsinger of the Night Court?”

“I’m your High Lady,” Feyre answered steadily, not letting Azriel’s shadows, nor cunning voice, shake her resolve. “Now, I don’t know what is going on with the three of you, or what strange joke you’re trying to pull, but you will listen to what I say. Put. Your. Knife. Down.”

“High Lady?” Cassian repeated with a snort of disbelief. “You’ve got balls, little girl.”

Truth-Teller danced across the skin of her neck, pressing lightly enough to intimidate without breaking skin. “Do you even know to whom you speak? You should be bowing before the acting Queen of the Night Court.”

Too stunned to properly resist, Azriel kicked his feet out to knock Feyre to her knees in front of Mor. His fingers slid into her hair, gripping it tightly to pull her head back as Truth-Teller resumed its threatening position at her throat.

“Breaking into the High Lord’s personal residence, impersonating a high position within the Night Court, lying to the Morrigan’s face,” Azriel listed, increasing the pressure of the blade with each transgression. “You throw our High Lord’s generosity and protection in his face, something we as his acting Court do not take lightly.”

“Acting court? Acting Queen?” Feyre repeated, feeling as if she’d woken to a different reality. “What are you talking about? Where’s Rhysand!?”

“We’re the ones asking the questions here,” Cassian growled.

Feyre looked to each of her friends, studying their faces. Beyond their militant expression, she could see their grief. Could smell it. She repeated, “where is Rhysand?”

She felt the snarl that rumbled through Azriel’s chest behind her, vibrating against her back. When the question was once again unanswered, Feyre abandoned all sense of patience.

Darkness exploded through the room. She heard Mor gasp as the walls of the House shook from the might of her power. Feyre folded into the shadows, winnowing out of Azriel’s grasp so she stood in the center of the three of them.

“Az, Cass, Mor, you are my friends and I do not want to hurt you. But I am also your High Lady and you will answer me this instant, where is Rhys? Where is my mate!?”

Siphons gleamed red and blue through the thick tendrils of night, illuminating the Illyrian males’ faces. Cassian’s jaw had fallen open, while Azriel was studying her through narrowed eyes, wisps of shadow surrounding him. Feyre wondered what they were whispering to him.

“Mate?” Cassian echoed, the first to break the heavy silence.

Mor took a cautious step forward, her countenance completely changed. Her pupils were blown wide, twin brown depths churning with sorrow and gentle astonishment. Azriel went rigid at Mor’s approach, but no one moved to stop her as she came face to face with Feyre.

“Where did you get this?” she whispered, taking Feyre’s left hand, eye fixed on her mating band. On the sapphire-star ring that once belonged to Rhysand’s mother.

All eyes befell the subject of Mor’s attention. Cassian swore softly in recognition.

“It’s my mating band,” Feyre answered measuredly, still puzzled that the inner circle, her family, didn’t seem to have any memory of it. Nor of her. “I won it from the Weaver, as was the task set by Rhysand’s mother. But you were all there for that. I don’t understand what’s going on. Where. Is. Rhys?”

“Under the Mountain,” Mor whispered, her voice soft and pained.

The darkness ebbed away like a receding tide. Feyre felt her heart sink as she tried to process this information. “He—What?”

“He’s been Under the Mountain for the last 50 years,” Mor said, firmer this time. “And if you were his so-called mate, you would know that.”

“No,” Feyre said, shaking her head vehemently. “No, that’s impossible. We got out. We—”

This was a nightmare. It had to be a nightmare, and she just hadn’t woken up from it.

“Amarantha’s dead,” Feyre insisted, mostly in an attempt to console the unparalleled grief and panic that were raging inside her. “She’s dead, and Rhys and I got out.”

The grim faces of her friends said otherwise. They stared at her, in unbearable mixtures of pity and horror.

“I think she’s having a mental break,” Cassian said, not unkindly. “Should we get a healer?”

“Let me show you,” Feyre said meekly, casting her magic out to tap on their mental shields.

They all tensed, clearly not aware they’d been in the presence of a daemati. Trained well by Rhys, they all cracked their shields just enough for Feyre to send her conjured memories through. She showed them going Under the Mountain as a human, winning the trials and being resurrected, falling in love with Rhys, and eventually becoming High Lady of the Night Court. In turn, the three of them pushed back their own memories, of the current state of the world. Of Rhysand sacrificing himself so that his Court and Velaris would be safe.

A sob broke out of Feyre. “How is this possible? How am I here?”

It was Azriel who immediately went for the jugular. “More importantly, if you’re here as a High Fae, how is Rhys going to get out? How do we stop Amarantha?”

Feyre fell to her knees, grief-stricken by this realization. She was no longer human. She couldn’t stride in as Tamlin’s human lover and undergo the trials. Feyre had her powers, but they were untested. Would she be able to take on the whole of Amarantha’s court?

“What do I do? How do I save him?” she whimpered, staring in mute horror at her mating band.

Mor tentatively reached forward, laying a comforting hand on Feyre’s shoulder. “Rhys sacrificed himself to keep the people he loves safe. He wouldn’t want you getting yourself killed trying to save him.”

“I have to try,” Feyre answered desperately. “Amarantha she’s…” Feyre couldn’t bring herself to say the word, rape. Not to his family, who wear his sacrifice for them like an open wound. “She’s doing unspeakable things to him. He’s suffering so much. I can’t leave him to that fate. I have to try.”

With renewed conviction, Feyre accepted Mor’s outstretched hand and picked herself to her feet. “Rhys said it himself once. Amarantha’s biggest weapon is that she keeps the High Lord’s power contained. She can’t access them herself. But I… I have access to all the High Lords’ powers. And that bitch has my mate. My wrath will be plenty to take her down.” She faced her friends, who watched her warily. “You have my word as your High Lady,” she swore to them. “The High Queen of Prythian is going to fall by the night’s end.”

⟡⟡⟡

Winter had not yet fallen in the Mortal Lands. Feyre wondered if across the world, there was a version of herself curled in a bed with her sisters, clinging to any shred of warmth and survival.

That version of Feyre was very different from the version who strode up the sloping hills of the Spring Court with Azriel by her side. Rhys would be furious that Feyre had allowed him to accompany her. Should anything go wrong, it would destroy her mate to know his family had been put in harm's way after everything he’d done to protect them. Which was why it was only Azriel who came with, the only compromise she could reach with his Inner Circle, who insisted on coming with.

Who better to sneak into the Mountain with than the very soldier who taught Feyre the art of stealth. He was the obvious choice, since Mor needed to stay to rule the Night Court and Cassian was too heavy-handed to handle such a delicate task.

Their footfall was silent. Feyre wrapped them in the shadow of Night as they winnowed through the cave network. Her heart hammered in her chest, panicked to be back in the source of so many nightmares.

But Rhysand was more important than her fear. For him, she would not falter.

With the Shadowsinger by her side, Feyre snuck through the winding tunnels until she came to a familiar passageway. They slid into a massive, dark bedroom, lit only by a few candles.

To attack Amarantha in the throne room would be too messy. Too many variables to contend with, should Amarantha have enough wit about her to use any faeries as a shield. Especially Rhysand.

After several hours of waiting, the lock on the door clicked and swung open. Darkness swirled around the room as Rhysand took in the sight of Feyre and Azriel on the bed.

Immediately, the door slammed shut.

“No,” he whispered, voice dripping with horror. “No.”

“Rhys—” Feyre started, but her mate wasn’t paying any attention to her. He was looking at Azriel as if his whole world had shattered.

“Leave,” he said, his voice cold and commanding. This was no happy reunion between brothers. This was Rhysand’s worst nightmare. “Leave this instant, you stupid fool. That is, if you’re lucky enough to have avoided detection when you passed under her wards.”

“I took down the wards,” Feyre said. They weren’t particularly strong, either. Amarantha had gotten lazy, perhaps thinking herself secure with the only spell-cleaver under her control. Or so she believed.

Rhys turned that quiet fury towards her. “And who are you?”

“Your mate,” Feyre answered steadily, tipping her chin up.

Rhysand laughed. A desperate, humorless sound. “Then you are just as foolish as my idiot brother. And you have both sealed your deaths by being here. Do you understand that?”

Feyre scratched along those familiar adamantite shields. Rhys’s eyes flickered in surprise, but otherwise he looked unruffled as he cracked a sliver open for her.

It would be unwise to underestimate me, mate.

I wouldn’t be going around boasting about such a thing, if what you claim is even true, came his icy response. And I wouldn’t count on a few party tricks to save you, either.

And what if I told you, she purred, that I possess the power of all seven High Lords?

That, at least, garnered a reaction from the stoic male. He narrowed his eyes in disbelief, studying Feyre carefully. His gaze caught on her hands, at the lace tattoos that flowed to her fingers. And the mating band she still wore.

Feyre watched those violet eyes go wide, the silver constellations dancing in astonishment at the sight of his mother’s ring.

Where did you get that?

It’s a long story, love, but you’re going to have to trust me. She lowered her mental shields completely. Have a look for yourself. I’m telling you no lies. I am your High Lady, and I am here to free my husband.

She felt those familiar talons wrap around her mind. A foolish thing to do, to give a daemati unrestricted access to her mind. And if it were anyone but Rhys, it would have been. But his touch was gentle, and he took only the information he needed.

“I don’t understand how this is possible,” he whispered, breaking the silence of the room. Azriel had been waiting patiently, but looked relieved to be included in the conversation once more. “And I hate that you’ve put yourselves in danger for this, but it could work.”

Rhys considered for a long moment, then he looked between Feyre and Azriel and said, “do it when she’s sleeping. That bitch has been playing dirty for 50 years, you might as well level the playing field to give yourselves the best chance. Let’s do it tonight. I’ll leave the door unlocked, wear her out, and signal you once she’s asleep. Her spell prevents me from harming her, but I’ll make sure she’s restrained. All you have to do is drive the ash dagger through her heart, but have your magic ready for damage control.”

⟡⟡⟡

Feyre and Azriel waited in Rhysand’s bedchambers for his signal. There was a revelry tonight, as there was every night Under the Mountain, and Rhys was expected to be in attendance. Afterwards, he’d join Amarantha in her bed and make sure she was, in his words, “thoroughly exhausted”.

It was torturous for Feyre. To know exactly what the implication in those words were, to have to use her mate’s body in such a way. She wanted to roar at the Mountain, at the Cauldron, at anything that would listen, but instead she was next to the quiet, brooding Shadowsinger, and lamented in silence.

She’d begged Rhys to reconsider, to perhaps help them stage a more physical encounter that didn’t rely on his own suffering. But he’d denied any plan but the one he’d proposed, insisting it would cause him more anguish to but Feyre and Azriel in harm's way.

So they waited the long, agonizing hours until she felt a delicate pull at her chest. She’s asleep, Rhys called. Be on your guard.

He sent her directions to Amarantha’s bedchambers. There were guards outside, but Feyre and Azriel winnowed past them, cloaked in night and shadow.

Amarantha’s bedchambers were huge. Feyre had never been inside them before, but she was unsurprised to see they provided any luxury a High Queen could wish for.

Atop a large bed of red, silken sheets, lay her mate and Amarantha, both stark naked. The smell of sex clung to the air, Rhysand and Amarantha’s scents intertwined. Feyre thought she might be sick.

Even more sickening was the sight before her, of Amarantha’s arms restrained to the headboard in cloth. A clever way for Rhys to restrain her under the guise of sex, but horrifying nonetheless, to see the proof of what they’d been up to. The female was fast asleep, so convinced of her authority that she could fall asleep tied-up and not feel vulnerable doing so. How satisfying, Feyre thought, that such arrogance would be her downfall.

Feyre warded the room, putting up a shield of darkness so that no sound would break through to alert the guards. Rhys watched their approach warily from where he perched beside Amarantha, so still Feyre was convinced he held his breath.

He wouldn’t risk moving to wake her up, which terrified Feyre. Should something go wrong, her mate would be susceptible to Amarantha’s wrath. Naked, vulnerable, and completely under her control. It was such a dangerous game they were playing.

The room was as quiet and still as the bewitching hours of the night, their footsteps silent as they picked across the room. Azriel held the ash dagger. If Rhys could not kill Amarantha, his brother wanted to do it on his behalf. Meanwhile, Feyre summoned tendrils of night that carefully wrapped around Amarantha’s legs, slithering up her body like a snake, ready to constrict and restrain.

The female stirred in her sleep, perhaps feeling the ghostlike touch of Feyre’s magic. But she did not wake. Not as Azriel raised the dagger over her chest, and not as he plunged it down.

Amarantha’s eyes shot open as the dagger pierced her chest. She let out a shriek of agony and ire, moving to claw at her attacker. She raged against the restraints, spewing obscenities until they died at her lips as the blade sunk into her heart.

Rhysand’s chest was heaving as he watched the female still, then slump. He looked from her dead body, to Azriel and Feyre.

Feyre’s heart sank as she watched her mate process that it was truly over. There wasn’t a trace of elation in his eyes at being liberated, but she understood why. Rhys would finally be returning home, but as a much different man than the one he had been. He’d survived, but not unscathed, and he’d need time to process this.

Feyre came to him, reached towards her mate with the hand that bore his mother’s ring. Rhys looked to it, then up to her. His eyes were clouded with sorrow, with a melancholy she could only hope to chip away at in time. But she could see stirring beneath it was a breath of hope, perhaps the first he’d allowed himself in a long time.

“Let’s go home, Rhys,” she said gently.

Slowly, Rhysand nodded, moving to grasp her hand. She felt him jolt at the touch and, as she glanced at him questioningly, she saw his lips part in wonder.

I suppose you weren’t lying about being my mate, he whispered, the words a sensual brush in her mind. Thank you for coming to rescue me, High Lady.

Feyre grasped onto Azriel, and together the three of them stepped into darkness.

Then, they were above the House of Wind, tumbling through the night sky. Feyre unfurled her wings before Rhys could move to catch them, worried that her mate would struggle after 50 years without flight.

Both males stared in astonishment at the sight. Rhysand’s eyes danced in awe as Feyre, albeit clumsily, carried them to the training ring on the roof.

Rhys snapped his own wings open as they landed. Feyre watched him tilt his head back in rapture as he felt the wind against his wings for the first time in decades. Then he opened his eyes, his expression shifting to reverence as he beheld the night sky.

“I was beginning to think I’d never see it again,” he whispered, his voice a heartbreaking blend of exaltation and disbelief. “And for this gift… for my salvation to be courtesy of my mate and of my brother… I’m a bit overwhelmed,” he admitted sheepishly.

Feyre hesitated. If this was the Rhysand from before, the one to which she was mated and married, she would come to comfort him. But this version of Rhys had only just been freed from enslavement, and she didn’t know what he needed.

As though sensing her hesitation, Rhys cast his eyes back to the sky. “I know they’re all waiting for me downstairs, but I’d like a little bit of time with the stars. Will you let them know, Az?”

Azriel nodded, though he seemed conflicted. His reunion with his brother was perhaps not as merry as the male had expected. But right now, she knew the Inner Circle would hardly deny Rhys anything. Perhaps for a long while yet. So Azriel headed downstairs to inform their friends, who were sure to be anxiously awaiting their arrival.

Rhysand regarded Feyre carefully once the two of them were alone. “Mate and High Lady,” he mused. “You seem to wear many hats.”

“You forgot ‘wife’,” Feyre said lightly.

“Yes, and ‘Salvation’, ‘Queen Killer’, ‘Most Beautiful Female in Prythian’, it seems there’s many things I could call you. Could we start with your name, perchance?”

Feyre was shocked. She’d assumed he’d taken such information out of her mind earlier, but it seems he’d been even more respectful than she’d expected.

“Feyre,” she answered. “My name is Feyre.”

He looked wonderstruck. “Feyre,” he repeated, testing the name on his lips. A gentle smile curled at the corners of his mouth, the first she’d seen from him yet. He extended his hand towards her. “Would you like to watch the stars with me, Feyre?”

It was an offer she couldn’t refuse. Her hand found his with all the casual grace of a dancer, as if it were a routine they’d been perfecting their whole lives. Their fingers interlocked and as one, they stared up at the dazzling night sky.

This reality wasn’t perfect, Feyre thought. This Rhys was different from her own, and he still had a lot of healing to do. But if she could be there for him, to help him in a ways she hadn’t before, then she would be grateful to the strange eddies of the Cauldron for bringing her here. For allowing her to end his torment early. For giving them this extra time.

She watched a shooting star dart across the sky and smiled as it passed. There was nothing she could wish for except that her mate find peace in all that he’d endured the last half century.

His deep, velvety voice cut through the silence. “Do you often wish on stars, Feyre?”

She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. He was watching her with a heart-wrenching wistfulness.

“Only when I have a wish worthy of the stars.”

“And do you?”

Feyre looked to the northernmost star, which shined brightest in the sky. “I wished for a light in the darkness,” she told him. “I don’t think the stars would ever begrudge such a wish.”

Rhysand nodded solemnly. “It’s true that they would be begrudging themselves in doing so. But I see no need for you to wish for such a thing.”

Feyre looked to him. He was still watching her, but something in him had shifted. He was smiling at her gently, that lingering sadness already receding. “Why’s that?” she asked cautiously.

That gentle smile widened, showing off his brilliant teeth. “Why, Feyre, to find such a thing, all you’d need to do is look in a mirror.”

[kaizokuou-ni-naru]

The Voyage So Far: Fishman Island

east blue (1 | 2) || alabasta (1 | 2) || skypiea || water 7 || enies lobby || thriller bark || paramount war (1 | 2) || fishman island || punk hazard || dressrosa (1 | 2) || whole cake island || wano (1 | 2)

i know i’ve said it before but i really, really love the entirety of reunion arc. it might be short, but there’s just so much fun and joy packed into it after the extremely fraught and upsetting paramount war. there’s something exhilarating about seeing characters who could barely compete on the world stage two years ago not just come back from nigh-obliteration, but come back so much stronger. this is true about fishman island as a whole as well, really, which is the main reason i enjoy it so much. 

every time we get to see luffy flex his conqueror’s haki absolutely fills me with delight.

brook’s return to the crew is, i think, the most meaningful of all of them. he knew them for, what, a week or two in-universe prior to the separation at sabaody? and in the two-year interim, he becomes basically an extremely successful rock star known worldwide and selling out stadiums. and yet he doesn’t hesitate a moment to drop all of that, to declare before the world that luffy is alive and will be king, because he might have only known the strawhats for a little while but they saved him, and he’s going to see his dream through to the end with them. 

this is possibly my favorite panel in all of one piece. it just makes me so fucking happy to finally see him again! 

i’m a big fan of oda’s choice in not revealing his full design until this moment, so that we get to see him finally appear in all his glory the same moment the rest of the world does, just in time for him to explode back into the public consciousness and fuck up sentoumaru’s whole day. 

i feel like i might be repeating myself a little with regards to reunion arc, but i don’t really care- it just makes me happy. this spread where luffy finally arrives back at the sunny- look how delighted they all are to see him! look how much they missed him! the strawhats are such a family, even though at this point they’ve just spent far more time apart than they’ve ever spent together, and i just adore them so much. 

roger is one of my favorite flashback characters and definitely one of the characters i wonder about the most, and a lot of the thoughts i have about him circle back around to this panel right here. where did he get the hat? why did he give it to shanks? why did he choose to set out to sea who is he- 

i think about kuma a lot. for such a minor character his tragedy is immense, and i would really like to know more about him, why he chose to do the things he did, what his relationship with dragon and the other revolutionaries was like- whether there’s any chance he can still be saved. 

fishman island is absolutely gorgeously drawn. i’d call it absolutely the prettiest setting in the series until wano, and i think that, like wano, it’s clear oda was waiting to draw it for a very long time. the amount of detail and care put into all of the big establishing shots is really breathtaking.

one of the reason i think fishman island is so fun is because the comparatively lower stakes, combined with how much stronger the strawhats are, means they get to be at their most fully chaotic best. they take ryuuguu palace hostage almost completely unintentionally, off-screen, and then immediately start bickering and making ransom demands. i love them so much. 

i love luffy and shirahoshi’s relationship so much- i love how much she trusts him to keep her safe, and i love how easily he does it. i love how he’s brutally honest with her but never really mean and how he encourages her to open up her world and do new things even when it’s scary and dangerous, and lets her take things at her own pace. 

i think the sun pirates’ symbol is probably my favorite jolly roger in the series, both because it’s so well-established in the story, all the way back to arlong park, and because it has so much meaning. the shadow of fisher tiger’s life and death is cast over the entire story long before we even know he existed. 

the symbolic destruction and replacement of the slave brand with the rising sun is so, so cool, and the knowledge of the reasoning behind the symbol also makes it clear long before its confirmed in-story just how empty hody and his crew are. their versions of the symbol are open, with the silhouette of a decapitated human, because they have no brand to cover. 

i care so much about koala and fisher tiger, and the relationship between them as two former slaves and two deeply injured people, and how fisher tiger still manages to muster the strength to be good and gentle to her even after how much humans have hurt him. 

i think it’s really a shame that he never got to see who and what she grew up to be as a direct result of his kindness. i think he would’ve been really proud of her.

i’ve always really liked that otohime isn’t perfect. she’s not as flawless as she first appears to be- gets angry and frustrated and even drunk and shouty when her own people won’t listen to her trying to help them, and it makes her feel so much more real. her patience and pacifism feel much more admirable when we’re also shown how hard she fights to keep them up. she works to be good.

one thing i like in one piece is how much value is placed on just the value of knowledge, of writing, of reading and understanding. it’s visible in how one of the rarest powers in the world is the ability to hear the voice of all things, and in the poneglyphs, too. 

one of my favorite things about luffy is how he becomes a hero by trying not to be one. he doesn’t care about how people view him, and he never has; he really only cares about his friends and loved ones. it’s just that he’s also an incredibly easy person to befriend, and if those friends need help, then he’ll help them, regardless of the cost. most of the island-saving he does is just positive collateral to luffy’s driving desire for the people he cares about to be safe and happy. 

i have always loved strawhat group shots ever since back in east blue when the crew was just three people, and they’ve only gotten more exhilarating as the crew has expanded and full-crew shots have become less common in the new world. it’s always just awesome, seeing them all together and united for a common purpose, whether it’s saving robin in enies lobby or kicking hody’s ass here.

my friend zeph grainjew calls moments like these, where other members of the strawhats deal with a problem so luffy doesn’t have to, ‘honor guard moments’, and i really like them. they’re a display of both the loyalty luffy’s crew has for him and the trust luffy has for them right back.

the thing about shirahoshi is that she’s not a coward. she’s a crybaby and overemotional and extremely skittish (which, for the record, is fully understandable for someone who’s been the subject of constant assassination attempts since she was six), but when it comes down to it, she’s fully ready and willing to let herself get killed by the noah in order to protect her people and her country. she’s so brave.

i sometimes see people complain that the villains of fishman island are flat and boring, as though that’s not the whole point, as though the entire arc isn’t a treatise on the importance of not passing hatred down to children. of course hody and his crew are hollow, they’re the equivalent of malcontented shitty white men who become neo-nazis because it’s easier to blame minorities for their problems. 

luffy’s victory over hody itself is nothing. it’s easy, it’s only barely a challenge because they fight in the open water and luffy is a devil fruit user, and in the larger scheme of the one piece world, hody is nobody to even take notice of, no matter how grand his ambitions might be. what’s important isn’t hody’s defeat itself, it’s that the children of fishman island see luffy come when shirahoshi calls, and that at the end of the arc, they all want straw hats of their very own.  

this might genuinely be a coincidence, but i’ve always liked that fishman island, an arc all about inheritance and what we pass down to our successors, is when luffy first pulls out red hawk, an attack clearly inspired by ace. inheritance can positive or negative- the negative examples in this arc are obvious, but there are positive ones, too. we can also see it with koala and fisher tiger, or with jinbe and both of the legacies he’s shouldered. it’s up to us what we leave behind. 

for all that fishman island isn’t the strongest arc on its own, i do think it has by far one of the strongest endings. it’s an arc all about hurt and loss and how it gets passed down and renewed over generations, and it ends with a return to zero. everything’s not better, but the wound’s been cleaned and bandaged, and now it can finally, finally start to heal. 

and into the new world we go! with skies full of fire and oceans full of lightning, looking just like the entrance to hell- and all our crew can’t wait to get there. 

[veeranger]

So you want to watch Precure!

Version 1.3

(Google Docs Vers & Changelog)

Maybe you follow people who like it, maybe you just love magical girls and never got into Precure, but there are over a dozen seasons and you don’t know how to jump in. Never fear, this masterpost is here to give you a rundown of Precure, and hopefully by the end you’ll have an idea of where you want to start. 

What Is Precure?

Precure (short for Pretty Cure) is a Toei Animation franchise started in 2004 and has been on the air nonstop since then. It’s a magical girl franchise, y’know like sailor moon or ojamajo doremi or other such shows. The main demographic is children so you don’t have to worry about any weird “fanservice” or panty shots or anything nasty like that, it’s very G rated. 

What Are The Shows About?

In a general sense, Precure is about a team of 2-6 middle school age magical girls fighting bad guys and giant monsters and saving the world on a weekly basis with pretty outfits and big flashy finishers and the power of love and friendship. Each season follows a pretty standard formula (toku fans should be pretty familiar with it for the most part), and each season is around 48-50 episodes long. 

In keeping with this toku-esque formula, most seasons will feature mid season additions to the cast, in the form of new precure heroes. For the sake of not spoiling these shows, these mid season cures will not be mentioned in our plot overviews unless they appear extremely early or something like that. Just know that almost every season will feature an additional cure joining the team later in the show. 

Additionally, every season has at least one movie, these days there’s usually two per season. Usually you’ll find the movies are a standalone self-contained romp, and a crossover movie with the preceding seasons, with a focus on the most recent 2-3 teams. These movies might as well exist in a continuity of their own, and have absolutely no bearing on the plot whatsoever, save for one except which I’ll mention when we get to that season. 

Why Should I Watch Precure?

Because it’s good. It’s a really stellar franchise with a ton of content and genuinely engaging characters and stories. Also this isn’t your mom’s magical girl show, these girls throw punches, and kicks, and big lasers. Precure is pretty well known for being extremely hands on with its combat compared to other magical girl shows, though don’t expect the same kind of fights you’d find in kamen rider or anything. Also a main draw for a lot of people is the amount of gay subtext in, frankly, every season. While there’s only one season with an explicitly confirmed gay relationship between two cures, every season has varying levels of subtext between cures, it’s pretty cool. We won’t discuss the subtext in every season overview but trust us, it’s in there. 

What Show Should I Start With?

It doesn’t actually matter which season you watch, every season is a new setting and with new characters and set in a new world (except for two sequel seasons i’ll explain later), so you’re free to watch whatever you want in any order! We’re going to spend the rest of this post talking about each season to give you, the beloved reader, a glimpse at what each season has to uniquely offer. Don’t worry, there’s no spoilers down there. 

Futari Wa Precure (We Are Pretty Cure) & Futari Wa Precure Max Heart

The original precure show that aired in 2004, and even received an english dub. Misumi Nagisa is a star lacrosse player living a normal life until one day a shooting star she wishes on turns out to be a fairy that careens right into her room, or rather, smacks her right in the face. The fairy, named Mepple, explains he comes from the Garden of Light, another world that’s been taken over by the evil Dark King and his Dark Zone in order to capture the Prism Stones, a number of heart shaped crystals that, if collected, could give Dark King the power to destroy not only the Garden of Light but also the Garden of Rainbows, Earth itself. Meanwhile, Yukishiro Honoka finds a box in her grandmother’s shed containing an item just like the one that smacked Nagisa in the face, and inside is the fairy Mipple, who explains the situation to Honoka. The two fairies, seeking to be reunited, drag Nagisa and Honoka along and the four of them end up meeting up, but are attacked by an emissary of the Dark Zone. Mepple and Mipple grant the confused duo the power to transform into the warriors of legend, Precure. As Cure Black and Cure White, Nagisa and Honoka manage to fight off their attacker and protect their new fairy partners. The girls are then more or less dragged into the battle against the Dark Zone, as the only hope for both Gardens, they fulfill their duty as legendary warriors despite their hesitations and desires to go back to being normal teenagers.

Futari Wa doesn’t exactly have any major themes to speak of, it’s just your standard magical girl vs evil bad guys kind of thing, forgive it for being the first season. What it does have to offer is the relationship between Nagisa and Honoka, as well as the action in fight scenes. The girls don’t start the season as best friends, in fact they barely even know each other’s names when they’re first flung together. It takes a few episodes and a major fight between the girls for them to really start opening up to each other, but soon enough they become inseparable and support each other in everything they do. It’s clear, especially near the end, that the girls cling to each other for support and strength in the face of the increasingly overwhelming odds they face as the Dark Zone gains strength. It’s very compelling to see their relationship deepen in the early season and see how deep their bonds truly go near the end. 

Futari Wa received a sequel show, Futari Wa Precure Max Heart, picking up the story where it left off in the first season’s finale. Honoka and Nagisa are still the main characters, and they’re still fighting the Dark Zone, but this time they’re joined by a mysterious girl named Hikari, who can transform into Shiny Luminous, not a precure but precure-ish. This time the girls are trying to recover the heart and soul of the Queen of the Garden of Light, before the Dark Zone can recover and destroy the queen in her weakened state. Also their precure costumes have changed slightly. 

The first season (that is to say, not max heart) is currently one of the few seasons available with official english subtitles on the streaming platform Crunchyroll

Futari Wa Precure Splash Star

Hyuuga Saki (Cure Bloom), a tomboy who loves playing softball, and Mishou Mai (Cure Egret), a quiet transfer student and aspiring artist, meet each other by chance one day under the Sky Tree, where they discover two creatures from the Land of Fountains named Flappy and Choppy. The two girls transform into the legendary Precure and are tasked with restoring Princess Filia and the Seven Holy Fountains, which were sapped of their power by the evil forces of Dark Fall.

Splash Star's main theme is the appreciation of nature. The main focus is on the girls rediscovering their relationships with their town and the nature and people in it. You get to meet a whole cast of characters in their community, who have a lot of heart and charm behind their writing and the show does a good job of getting you genuinely invested in their stories.

Unfortunately the romance in Splash Star isn’t much better than Futari Wa's (sorry to any Fujimura/Kazuya fans), but the main girls themselves are so engaging that it's easy to ignore. The villains are pretty goofy, but entertaining if you can accept that the show doesn’t take itself very seriously. There are two villains in the latter half of the season that really stand out, though. Without spoiling too much, I can promise you their character arcs will tear at your heartstrings in the best way.

If you've watched Futari wa Precure, Splash Star will probably feel familiar. Although it's the first "reboot" series in the franchise with completely new characters, Toei overall played it safe and Saki and Mai in many ways still feel like "Nagisa and Honoka 2.0". Splash Star is different in enough other ways to make the show stand on its own merits, but if you watch it immediately after Futari wa you might find yourself feeling some deja vu. Personally, I think it's interesting to see what Splash Star builds on and explores when compared to Futari wa, since it has many of the same themes and character archetypes but they play out quite differently.

Yes! Precure 5 & Yes! Precure 5 GoGo!

Nozomi is a cheerful, carefree girl, but she doesn’t have a dream. One day she meets a hot guy and finds a mysterious item called the Dream Collet, capable of granting any wish once all the fairies known as Pinkies are gathered inside it, in the school library. She discovers that the hot guy is actually a tanuki from Palmier Kingdom named Coco, and that the Kingdom has been destroyed by the Nightmare. Coco’s dream is to restore his kingdom using the Dream Collet, and Nozomi decides to make it hers as well. 

She’s joined by her jock friend Rin, Urara, an aspiring actress, Komachi, a writer, and the rich student council president Karen. Together they form Yes Sentai Fiveranger Yes Precure 5 and work together to prevent Nightmare from obtaining the Dream Collet before they can gather all the Pinkies. They also save Coco’s “”””””friend””””””” and fellow hot guy squirrel, Nuts, and he joins them as the second mascot/handsome love interest.

The theme of Yes is dreams and heterosexual furry romance. It pulls off the dreams part very nicely. The het furry romance is bad, mostly because Coco is Nozomi’s teacher at school and also her love interest. However, Coco and Nuts are fairly gay and if you look past the romance part they have very good dadly relationships with the rest of the team. 

Yespre, like Futari Wa, received a sequel show, Yes! Precure 5 GoGo!. After the defeat of Nightmare some time ago, a new faction called Eternal rises up and starts stealing treasures from various dimensions. When Eternal targets the Rose Pact belonging to the Cure Rose Garden, the precure are called back into action to fight against Eternal, with new cure outfits, a new fairy named Syrup, and a new cure-like teammate named Milky Rose.

Fresh Precure!

Fresh is sort of the defining series for modern Precure, introducing a lot of plot and thematic elements to the franchise that would be used repeatedly later on. 

A concert Momozono Love attends is attacked by a monster called a Nakewameke. When Love stands up to it, she is nearly killed, but is saved when she is chosen by a mysterious power to become Cure Peach. She is joined by Inori and Miki as Cure Pine and Cure Berry, and, together with the talking ferret from the Kingdom of Sweets, Tarte, they have to prevent Labyrinth, a grey world led by Mobius, from taking over the Parallel Worlds and transforming them into identical, machine-like dictatorships, and also figure out the secret behind the Magic Baby, Chiffon, that Tarte is entrusted with. 

Fresh’s themes are happiness and nature/technology and donuts. The donuts are important. Labyrinth operates by gathering misery; the Nakewameke are created from it and their function is to create more of it and fill the Sorrow Gauge. All the girls (and the mascot) have love interests and their familial relationships are explored a lot to bring out the general stakes and emphasise what they’re fighting for.

While Fresh is very strong in characters, plot, and thematics, its lack of budget is very apparent. It looks terrible. Fortunately, it isn’t that difficult to get used to the bad animation once you get into the show, although the lack of means tends to show up at inopportune moments, like new powerups.

Heartcatch Precure!

Featuring character designs and art direction from Ojamajo Doremi’s character designer Umakoshi Yoshihiko, and written by Ojamajo Doremi and Onegai My Melody writer Yamada Takashi, Heartcatch should look and feel familiar to fans of either franchise, especially Doremi.

After having a reoccurring dream about someone called Cure Moonlight being defeated trying to defend the “Great Heart Tree”, the shy and reserved Hanasaki Tsubomi moves in with her grandmother and ends up inheriting the will of Cure Moonlight and becomes the newest precure, Cure Blossom. Finding out her grandmother used to be the legendary Cure Flower, Tsubomi vows to protect the world as a precure and learn to change herself for the better. She’s joined by her new friend and the first person she saved as a precure, Kurumi Erika, a loud girl with a big heart who means well, but doesn’t hesitate to speak her mind. Erika becomes Cure Marine and the two become Heartcatch Precure, the newest precure in the long legacy of those who have stood up to the evil Dune, a mysterious invader who destroys planets and turns them into lifeless deserts. Heartcatch Precure fights against Dune’s minions: the mask wearing Professor Sabaku, his Desert Apostles, and the mysterious Dark Precure. Along the way they meet the former Cure Moonlight, now stripped of her power, and try to help her cope with her defeat.

Heartcatch Precure’s main theme is flowers and flower language. Everyone has a “heart flower” that the Desert Apostles take and use to create their monsters every week. As an interesting result of this, the monster of the week will be the main character in the plot of the week and often their big monster form will vent about their issues which will usually lead to a resolution when the precure return them to their regular bodies. Heartcatch also has a very nice backstory and lore to it. Unlike most iterations of precure, the Heartcatch girls are not the first precure to exist in their world, there are dozens maybe hundreds of precure that came before them, fighting against Dune and his forces for hundreds of years. It adds a lot to the narrative in small ways, especially later on in the season. Also the fight scenes are extremely excellent, especially when Moonlight is involved. 

Suite Precure♪

The musical paradise of Major Land falls under siege by the forces of Minor Land, led by King Mephisto. His goal is to steal the living notes of the “Melody of Happiness” and remake them into the “Melody of Sorrow”, throwing the world into a permanent depressive state. As a last resort, Queen Aphrodite scatters the notes into the human world and tasks Hummy, the cat-like fairy, and the Fairy Tones, to find the notes before the forces of Minor Lands can capture them. In the human world, Hummy meets Hojo Hibiki and Minamino Kanade, two girls who were best friends as children, but drifted apart as teenagers because of their tendency to bicker with each other. The two find themselves thrown together again by fate and transform into Cure Melody and Cure Rhythm to protect the things they hold dear. Not long after, the two rekindle their relationship and become closer than before, despite their bickering. Soon the girls run into the mysterious Cure Muse, a girl who appears to be a precure like them, but hides her face with a mask and refuses to join in their fight, claiming to be neither friend nor enemy. Melody and Rhythm battle against Minor Land and the giant Negatones they create from the notes they gather, as well as Siren, another cat-like fairy who used to be Hummy’s best friend before turning to evil and joining Minor Land. 

Suite Precure’s main theme is music, and it is a very encompassing theme. Hibiki and Kanade bond over their piano practice, the town they live in celebrates music frequently and is aesthetically music themed, and their powers take the form of musical instruments. Harmony is also a large theme for the two girls. Their precure power increases as they harmonize with each other, and the early season is very much about them learning to harmonize with each other. Suite also features several extremely well done mystery arcs, about the identity of Cure Muse, and various other things that I can’t very well talk about without risking spoiling things myself. If you manage to go into Suite not knowing anything consider yourself extremely lucky and be super sure not to get spoiled. The show staff went to great lengths to hide certain things, including leaking fake cure designs, and creating a second version of the second dance ending to further mask the identity of Cure Muse until her true reveal. 

Also something to note, usually precure movies have nothing to do with the plot of the show itself and can be watched whenever but the Suite movie is best enjoyed right after the arc revealing Cure Muse’s identity is concluded, it has a nice resolution to plot elements in that arc and sets the stage for the last few arcs of the show, so be sure to watch it then.

Smile Precure!

Written by Kamen Rider Kabuto head writer Yonemura Shoji, Smile Precure is the second season to feature a 5 girl team after Yes! Precure 5 Gogo!. Running late to her first day of school, resident happy-go-lucky klutz Hoshizora Miyuki runs face first into a small creature called Candy, a fairy from a place called Märchenland. The two are attacked by an anthropomorphic wolf named Wolfrun, and Miyuki transforms into Cure Happy to fight against Wolfrun and the big clown faced monster he summons called an Akanbe. After Candy explains that the legends say there are five precure, Miyuki recruits four new friends: the hot blooded Akane (Cure Sunny), shy artist Yayoi (Cure Peace), responsible older sister Nao (Cure March), and refined student council vice-president Reika (Cure Beauty). The five of them become Smile Precure and fight against Wolfrun and his allies in the Bad End Kingdom, who attempt to revive the slumbering Pierrot by trying to put the world in a “Bad End”. 

Smile Precure’s main theme is fairy tales, in a general sense. The Bad End trio are based off of the big bad wolf (Wolfrun), the oni from Momotaro (Akaoni), and the witch from Snow White (Majorina), and Miyuki herself is utterly captivated by fairy tales. The secondary theme is happiness, and the happy go lucky tone of the series often turns on its head during serious arcs to deliver extremely powerful emotional moments. Smile Precure is light on plot, and most episodes are an ultra happy experience, but the show knows how to get serious when it needs to and Smile is exceedingly competent at pulling off drama when the time comes. Smile knows how to get you invested in its characters and use that to pull on your heartstrings during the big moments. The last 10 episodes of the show are the absolute pinnacle of the show’s emotional drama, and each cure gets her own episode for closure before the finale sets in and emotionally destroys you. Also you get to play rock paper scissors with Cure Peace during her roll call so that’s always fun.

Doki Doki! Precure

Doki opens with Trump Kingdom’s destruction by the Selfishness as Cure Sword looks on, helpless. Switching to our world and brighter topics, we meet Aida Mana, Student Council President of Oogai Middle School, whose dream is to become the Prime Minister of Japan. Whenever Mana sees someone in trouble, she’ll help them out, so when a monster attacks the city, Mana does the obvious and tries to stop it. And when, chosen by the fairy Charuru (Charles? Cheryle? Cherry?) to become a Precure and defend the world, she meets Cure Sword, she has to befriend her and help her restore Trump Kingdom and find her happiness. 

Mana (Cure Heart) is joined by Rikka (Cure Diamond), her studious companion and supporter, and also the immeasurably powerful and rich (in that order) Alice (Cure Rosetta). Together they have to unravel the mystery of the man who gave them their transformation items, the missing princess of Trump Kingdom, the strange, evil girl called Regina, and Ai, the chaotic neutral baby who hatches out of an egg. 

Dokipre’s theme is love and selflessness. It also has Deep Lore, a lot of which is established in extra-series material. The show does try to explore concepts like past cures and manages a very nice repeating pattern effect with the plot, in terms of past and future happenings. There’s a lot of foreshadowing. Compared to most Precure seasons it’s very plot-heavy and even the filler usually ends up being plot-relevant. 

Happiness Charge Precure!

The 10th anniversary of Precure! The Phantom Empire is spreading across the world, and Precure are rising up all over the globe to fight them off. In Japan there are two active cures, Cure Fortune, strong and capable, and Cure Princess, scared and unsure of herself. As Cure Princess, Shirayuki Hime, struggles desperately to do her duty as precure, Cure Fortune refuses to work with her for reasons Hime doesn’t fully understand. Realizing her only hope is to find a partner to work with, Hime bumps into Aino Megumi, a super friendly girl who has a tendency to drop everything and help others any time she sees someone in need. Megumi becomes Cure Lovely, and bolstering Hime’s confidence, the two of them become Happiness Charge Precure, tasked with protecting Japan from Queen Mirage and her Phantom Empire. The two are joined by Cure Honey, and eventually Cure Fortune, and the four of them receive support from Blue, the God of Planet Earth. As the girls continue to fight and defend Japan, they are assaulted by Phantom, the ruthless Precure Hunter who has defeated and trapped countless Precure in his Precure Graveyard, and the Oresky Trio, the Phantom Empire generals who oversee the invasion of Japan. 

Happiness Charge Precure’s themes are romance and happiness. There are several arcs dedicated to the budding romances of the cures, and the backstory of the show is heavily tied to romance. Happiness might as well be Megumi’s middle name, she makes it her business to spread happiness to as many people as she can, and takes every chance she can to help others. Happiness Charge is also the first season to have form changes for the precure, each cure has a small selection of forms they can change to for different big attacks, and this concept would later be expanded and used as a core concept in Maho Girls Precure. Like Heartcatch before it, Happiness Charge exists in a world where multiple precure exist, but unlike Heartcatch all those precure exist at the same time in the present day. Other precure teams make cameos every so often and the concept creates a great world in which the whole planet is being protected by teenage girls with superpowers, creating a wonderful sense of scale that really makes the big victories of Happiness Charge Precure feel even bigger. 

Go! Princess Precure

The first precure series to take place at a boarding school! Years ago, a young girl named Haruno Haruka meets a very royal looking person named Kanata who gives her a Dress-Up Key, a big key shaped like a dress. A teenager now, Haruka starts attending Noble Academy, a prestigious boarding school, all the while holding tight to her dream of becoming a true princess, in a quasi-literal sense. Not long after starting the school year, Haruka meets Pafu and Aroma, two fairies from the Hope Kingdom desperate to revive the legendary precure to fight back against Dyspear and her minions who steal dreams to create their giant Zetsuborgs. Realizing what her Dress-Up Key is meant for, Haruka uses it and the Princess Perfume to become Cure Flora. Together with student council president Kaido Minami (Cure Mermaid), and Amanogawa Kirara (Cure Twinkle) a fashion model with huge aspirations, they become the new Princess Precure, tasked with learning to become true princesses along with protecting the Dress-Up Keys from Dyspear’s forces. 

Go! Princess Precure’s main themes are princesses (duh) and dreams. Dreams are a driving force behind all of the cures, and most of the plot of the week characters. Dyspear steals dreams to make monsters, and the precure fight to return those dreams. Characters follow their dreams with conviction, pride, and full commitment. This is also where the princess theme intersects, since it’s Haruka’s dream to become a true princess. One should note that princess is used sort of liberally in this series, it’s not that Haruka wants to somehow become someone of noble birth or have political power, she just wants to be strong, kind, and beautiful, the traits of a true princess in Princess Precure’s own terms. Also she wants to wear pretty dresses and such but who can blame her really. 

Mahou Tsukai Precure! (Maho Girls Precure!)

Quite literally putting the magic in magical girls for the first time in the franchise, Mahou Tsukai Precure was the first season to have its cures be actual magicians. Izumi Riko lives in the magical world, a world where magic is real and she attends a magical academy to hone her craft. She leaves the magical world to travel to the “non-magic” world, to search for a legendary item called the Linkle Stone Emerald. In the non-magic world she ends up catching the attention of another girl, Asahina Mirai, who sees her using magic. After trying to show off some magic and messing it up, Riko is attacked by Batty, a servant of the dark wizard Dokurokushe, who is seeking the Linkle Stone Emerald as well. As fate would have it, both Mirai and Riko carry stones that turn out to be the Linkle Stones Diamond, and the two of them use them to become Cure Miracle and Cure Magical, the legendary Mahou Tsukai Precure. Additionally, the power of the Linkle Stones grants life to Mirai’s lifelong companion, a teddy bear named Mofurun. Having discovered the world of magic and become a precure, Mirai is invited to spend time in the magical world learning magic alongside Riko, before the two, joined by Mofurun and a baby fairy named Ha, return to the non-magical world to search for the Emerald and protect it from Dokurokushe and his minions.

Mahou Tsukai Precure’s main themes are bonds and separation. It’s strengths lie in how it shows the relationship between Mirai and Riko. The show takes its time building their relationship in the first dozen or so episodes of their adventures in the magic world, highlighting their similarities and differences as they grow closer and learn to live with each other and fight as precure together. Well before the halfway mark it’s clear how strong their bond is and how deeply they care for each other, and the lengths they would go to for one another. Mahou Tsukai is an emotional ride in so many ways, every emotional moment hits its mark and the more you get attached to the characters the more the show will hit harder and harder with its moments, both sad and happy. Even side characters get satisfying and emotional conclusions to their storylines outside of the episodes they’re introduced in, it’s all wonderfully crafted.

KiraKira☆Precure A La Mode

Another return to the five cure format, Kirapre is also the second season to feature a sixth team member after Yes! Precure 5 Gogo!, as well as the second season to feature high school age precure after Heartcatch Precure. Usami Ichika is in her second year of middle school and loves sweets, especially making sweets. One day a hungry fairy named Pekorin finds her way into Ichika’s kitchen, and after being fed teaches Ichika about Kirakiraru, an energy source that exists in all sweets, and something that can be stolen and used for evil, leaving the sweets gray and tasteless. Utilizing the power of kirakraru in the shortcake she baked for her mother, Ichika becomes Cure Whip, one of the legendary patissiers, Precure. One by one other precure appear, the smart but shy Arisugawa Himari (Cure Custard), the rock band headliner Tategami Aoi (Cure Gelato), the fickle catlike Kotozume Yukari (Cure Macaron), and the responsible and helpful Kenjou Akira (Cure Chocolat). The five of them fight against the evils of Noir and those he has influenced: Julio, the mysterious masked boy who runs “experiments'' using kirakiraru, and Bibury, a mean spirited girl who uses her talking doll to steal kirakiraru and create monsters.

Kirapre’s main motifs are sweets and animals, and it has a pretty general togetherness and happiness theme going on, the standard precure stuff, mostly viewed through the lense of sweets and sweets-making. All the precure work as patissiers for one reason or another and it’s the main way the team bonds early on. The team, as well as the people of their small town, love sweets as a part of their culture and sweets maintain an important role as the emotional tie that binds most things together in the story. Overall Kirapre is a wonderful show with a great cast on both sides of the conflict, and a lot of care has been put into the show to make sure characters have their moments to interact with each other as well as have their own stories , even on a team of six every precure gets more than enough time to shine on her own. Kirapre is at it’s best when it takes two girls and puts them together for an episode, letting each unique dynamic play out in a fun and satisfying way. Kirapre is also noteworthy for the almost inarguably canonical relationship between two of the cures. It's not exactly explicit and it does leave something to be desired, since this is a Toei children's show, but there’s not really any other way to read the evolution of their relationship or their duet song, so I’m more than satisfied calling it canon.

This season is currently one of the few seasons available with official english subtitles on the streaming platform Crunchyroll 

HUGtto! Precure

Precure’s 15th anniversary! This season is in many ways a celebration of all things Precure, bringing together a lot of familiar elements from past shows into one. Hugtto! is another five cure season whose main themes are destiny and future. Nono Hana (Cure Yell) is a thirteen-year-old girl whose dream is to be a "cool and stylish woman," although she worries that others see her as childish. One day, a hamster named Harryham Harry and a magical baby named Hugtan fall out of the sky into Hana's house. They're being chased from the future by an evil organization called Criasu Corporation, who are trying to use Hugtan's power to freeze time forever. Hana makes friends with two of her classmates: the responsible class representative Yakushiji Saaya (Cure Ange) and the reclusive ex-figure skater Kagayaki Homare (Cure Etoile), and together they fight Criasu while taking care of Hugtan and figuring out the many mysteries surrounding her. Expect some light sc-fi elements and an emphasis on modern technology/social media.

Hugtto! explores its themes primarily through the lenses of childcare and the workplace, giving us a look at how each girl comes to terms with the transition from childhood to adulthood. This season does a good job of letting each member of the team shine; you spend several episodes with each girl (or duo of girls) and there's a real sense of a complete character arc for all of them. The romance aspect is, unfortunately, pretty bad: there’s a return of hetero furry romance between Harry and Homare, and Hana’s love interest exhibits some really creepy behavior towards her. There’s uncomfortable age gaps in both of these relationships too so it’s a just a bit…. Yikes. Thankfully, it’s fairly easy to ignore like past seasons, but a warning for it nonetheless.

Something that makes this season stand out is its LGBT subtext; there's a TON of it even compared to the normal amount that Precure is known for. Without giving away too much, two of the cures this season are heavily coded as lesbians (though not with each other per se), and there's a subplot concerning a side character who is pretty explicitly (well, as explicit as Toei dares to be) a gender non-conforming man/nonbinary person in love with another man, and it's all very wholesome and presented in a positive light. Again, this is Toei, so don't expect anything too radical, but I have to admit I was pleasantly surprised with how Hugpre handles it.

Finally I'll just say that while Hugpre is a fantastic season on its own, I would personally recommend waiting to watch it after you've seen some other seasons (notably Futari wa). It's not required, but since Hugpre is an anniversary season, there are a few episodes (especially near the end) that will really hit different if you have an emotional connection to the franchise already. Ultimately though this is a fairly minor part of the show, so watching this season first won’t ruin it or anything like that, it’s just something to keep in mind.

Star☆Twinkle Precure

Precure… in space! Our protagonist, Hoshina Hikaru (Cure Star) loves space and cryptids, to the point of drawing her own constellations. One of her constellations is an adorable alien puffball, who warps into Hikaru’s room almost immediately after she draws it. The puffball quickly befriends Hikaru, who names her Fuwa. They are later joined by Prunce, the team dad friend/alien mascot, and Lala (Cure Milky), a humanoid alien who is an adult in her own culture. After our initial duo gets off to a bit of a rocky start, they are joined by the student council president, Kaguya Madoka  (Cure Selene) and a biracial upperclassman who is considered to be the “sun” of the school, Amamiya Elena (Cure Soleil). Together, they explore the universe and befriend all sorts of aliens, while also defending them from the Notraiders, who want to rid the universe of all imagination. On top of that, the universe is dying and the cures need to find the 12 astrologically themed Star Pens to save it and the 12 Star Princesses. This series is notable for attempting to break the “monster of the week” format, instead making it a “fight of the week”.

The major themes of Star Twinkle are space, imagination, and maturity. The cures have to explore the universe to find the Star Pens, and in doing so, visit a bunch of different planets. About half the series is spent on Earth, but the world still feels developed! Honestly speaking, the theme of imagination is forgotten pretty quickly and I’d refer to it more as free will. The theme of maturity is where Star Twinkle really shines. All of the cures have had to grow up too fast in some way, and the series is partially about just allowing them to goof off. Lala is considered an adult on her planet, and this plot point is treated realistically. Well, as realistically as it can be. This is one series I’d recommend avoiding spoilers like the plague for, because part of the fun is in how the plot twists are pulled off. Also Star Twinkle is notable for featuring the first ever dark skinned precure, as Elena is half-hispanic. 

Healin’ Good Precure

The currently airing Precure season, as of this writing. The Byogens seek to revive their king by inflicting viruses on Earth, the Healing Garden sends three medical interns to combat them. These interns, fairies named Rabirin, Pegitan, and Nyatoran, along with a baby fairy princess named Latte, journey to Earth to find partners to become Precure. They end up meeting Hanadera Nodoka, a kindhearted girl who was hospitalized for most of her young childhood. After Nodoka risks her life to protect Latte, Rabirin chooses her to become Cure Grace. Joined by older sister type Sawaizumi Chiyu (Cure Fontaine) and the outgoing Hiramitsu Hinata (Cure Sparkle), they form Healin’ Good Precure, and defend their friends and the Earth from the Byogen’s newest wave of attacks. 

This season is currently one of the few seasons available with official english subtitles on the streaming platform Crunchyroll.

Where To Watch Precure Online

Unfortunately for us, Precure isn’t really a thing in the west. There was a dub of Futari Wa back in the early 2000’s and Smile and Doki both got “adapted” into Glitter Force over on netflix (I don’t really recommend checking those out), but really Precure just doesn’t exist over here.

However, as mentioned above, there are currently three seasons avalible for streaming on crunchyroll. The original Futari Wa Precure, Kira Kira Precure A La Mode, and the current season, Healin’ Good Precure.

Beyond these isolated examples of official releases, you can really only watch precure online on streaming sites or through torrents. You can find precure pretty much on any major anime streaming site, kissanime, gogoanime, the works. You can also try your luck torrenting the seasons, i’ve found that pretty much every season has a working torrent you can find on sites like nyaa.si or the like. For more recent seasons you should have little difficulty getting torrents, and last time i checked every season was on one of the aforementioned streaming sites. What I’m saying really is there’s no single place to find precure, but it’s not impossible to find for sure.

Thanks for reading this post, I hope you decide to check out precure and I really hope you end up loving it.Thanks to my wonderful friend @meltorights​ for writing the sections on Yespre, Fresh, and Dokipre, to @wonderlilane​ for writing the sections on Splash Star and Huggto, and @cure-cosmo​ for writing the segment on Starpre. 

If you have questions feel free to drop me an ask I’d be happy to help. I will literally go out of my way to help you if it means getting someone new into precure so please do not hesitate by any means. 

[citydreamgrls]

surprises

ron weasley x fem!reader

words: 4,049

a/n: i would just like to say a massive thank you to the love shown on my past two weasley fanfics. i hope this one can bring you just as much joy and escape in these horrible times ,, stay safe ! :)

warnings: smut (18+) , daddy kink , dominant ron ;)))

It was a sunny day in London, and people had flocked to the streets to enjoy the fleeting good weather before it was gone again. I was on my break, the top buttons of my work blouse undone as I leant over the bridge to watch the river’s water pass by. A cigarette went between my fingers and lips as I checked my watch, just another five minutes then I’d be back to serving coffee to rushing businessmen.

My lungs filled up and I turned around, my back on the railing as I puffed out a small cloud of smoke before my eyes. I froze, blinking a few times before laughing quietly to myself.

I really must be missing my friends, because I could’ve sworn I saw Harry, Ron and Hermione on the other side of the road. But there wasn’t anyone there when the smoke cleared. I snuffed out the cigarette and headed back into the coffee shop, doing up my buttons and grabbing my apron.

-

“Do you think she saw us Ron?” Hermione asked me as I fell against a lamppost.

“How would I know, I was there too.” I huffed, looking up at the house that stood in a row of identical ones.

“Come on you two,” Harry called, having aparated a few doors down “I think it’s this one?”

“Number 52?” Hermione shouted, grabbing her bag and following me as I caught up to Harry.

“Yep, it’s this one.”

“Well we better set up then,”

We had decided to visit y/n last minute, knowing her parents’ plans to visit her grandmother on her birthday weekend. So we decided to throw her a surprise party to cheer her up.

“When are the boys getting here?” Harry asked, preparing to pick the lock.

“One step ahead of you!” Fred and George pulled open y/n’s front door, making us all jump back. “Well come on you lot, this house won’t decorate itself.”

“It would if we could use magic,” I grumbled. 

-

“Bye guys, see you on monday.” I said to my co-workers, grabbing my bag and heading out into the warm evening air.

“Have a good birthday darling,” My boss, who was stacking the outdoor chairs, said as I walked past.

I opened cards on the walk home, mostly from regular costumers and people I worked with. A few of my muggle friends had come into the shop to give me gifts and wish me a happy birthday, even an aunt I hadn’t seen in months stopped by today. But nothing from Harry, Ron or Hermione.

In fact, I’d heard very little from them since the term ended. Not that I minded too much, they were spending the summer together and were probably busy. I had muggle friends in London too, which made the summer that little bit better.

“Oh y/n darling.” My neighbour hobbled down her doorstep, drawing me from my thoughts.

“Oh hi Mrs Hampton, is everything okay?” I asked, putting the cards in my bag and fishing around for my house keys. She bent down to pick something up from her front door.

“I made you a cake sweetie, I heard your parents are out of town and wanted to make sure you had something good to eat for your birthday.”

I took the cake from her outstretched hands and beamed with glee.

“Thank you so much, this is the nicest thing anyone’s done for me.”

She winked my way and chuckled,

“Just you promise that you won’t have too many friends round, my hearing might not be great but I can still sense a crowd.” she smirked.

“I promise it’ll be civilized if anything.”

“Well enjoy it anyway darling, bye bye.” I waved her off, turning to leave as she disappeared inside.

I caught a glimpse of something flashing by the window of my house and stopped again. Maybe I was just beginning to see things. I shook my head and carefully unlocked the front door so as not to drop the cake.

“Happy birthday buttercup,” A voice sounded from nearby, I turned round in the doorway to see my best (muggle) friend Jade leant against the garden gate with a smile on her face.

We’d known each other ever since the first day of nursery when I had an obsession with buttercups, hence the nickname. She had helped me find as many as I could to take home, and we’d been close from then on.

“Jade!” I put the cake down and went to give her a hug, I’d barely had a chance to see her before she had gone on holiday. “When did you land?”

“About an hour ago, I thought I’d come and say hi. And give you this.” A small blue box was placed into my hands gently, I frowned as I opened it up. Seeing a little silver bracelet, one that matched hers exactly. “Mum helped me find another one,” she laughed, “it took long enough.”

“I love it, thank you.” I hugged her again, holding her tight against me. “What are you doing later?” I asked.

“Nothing really, why?”

“I was thinking maybe we should have an early party, you know because the parents are out of town and all.” I offered up.

“Yeah, i’ll round up the others and be back here in an hour?”

“Perfect, oh and bring as much booze as you can.”

“Anything for you y/n,” she teased and went off down the road.

I picked everything up and went into the house, kicking the front door shut and heading to the kitchen to place the cake down carefully. I read the icing message with a smile and flicked on the kettle with a sigh, I didn’t have long to get ready.

A giggle sounded behind me, making me jump and grab my wand from the side. I stuck it up in the air and called out to the air.

“Who’s there!” I wasn’t sure what I’d do if an intruder came out. Especially if it was a muggle, I'd look a bit mental flinging a stick in their face.

Another noise caught my attention, this time from the living room. As I crept towards it, I could tell it was more of a fizzing of sorts. I turned the corner, wand still outstretched, and stopped in my tracks.

Right in the middle of the room a small firework was spinning around harmlessly. I got closer, frowning until it burst and displayed the small message.

Happy Birthday y/n !!!

Before I even had a chance to process it, Harry threw off his invisibility cloak in front of me and the rest of the group appeared out of thin air. I screamed in shock, amazed that they were all here for me. Suddenly the room was no longer dark and miserable, and now covered in balloons and streamers, music already playing.

“Surprise!!” The twins grabbed me from behind, and threw me into the air.

“Put her down you lunatics!” Ron shouted over the music. “The neighbours will think she’s being murdered.

“Don’t worry,” Hermione smirked, “I already put a silencer on the house.”

“What are you all doing here?” I asked, hugging them all in turn.

“We didn’t want you all on your own,” Harry smiled, quick to pour drinks for everyone.

“Yeah, especially not on your birthday.” Ron added, wrapping an arm around my shoulder, earning a teasing look from Fred and George who were wearing matching party hats.

“Oh guys this is great, but we have a small problem.” They all frowned at me as I explained what was gonna happen.

-

“So Fred, George, remember to keep the magic to a minimum but it isn’t the end of the world. Harry, you're in charge of making sure any pictures are hexed so they’re deleted immediately okay, we don’t need any traces of this party for my parents to see online. My friends I could explain, but you guys are strangers in their eyes and would be harder to explain if you two are performing charms in the background” I glared at the twins.

“Hermione, you’ve already obliviated the front door yes?” I asked.

“Anyone who crossed out of it will forget this entire night.” She promised me.

“Perfect.”

“Uhhh what’s my job?” Ron asked.

“Heavy lifting,” I smirked. “Take all the breakables and lock them in the coat cupboard, I can put it all back in the morning.”

The group nodded, rushing off to sort out everything while I sped up to my room to get ready for the party. Hermione followed closely, having missed her own muggle life for some time this felt like normality for her.

“It’s odd coming back isn’t it,” She nodded, looking round my room before chilling on my bed. “How has your guy’s summer been?” I asked her, starting my makeup.

“It’s been good, I stayed at the burrow. Ron wouldn’t shut up about you.”

“Do I irritate him that much?” I giggled.

“Come on he’s obsessed with you,” Hermione huffs, sick of trying to convince me yet again. “It was his idea to come here, he wouldn’t rest until we all agreed to come surprise you.”

“He’s just nice like that,”

“Have you ever seen him put as much effort into anyone else?” she smirked.

“I think you’re the only one who thinks he likes me mione,” She rolled her eyes, picking up an old magazine and waiting for me to finish.

-

On cue, Jade and a whole group of my muggle friends arrived each person with handfuls of booze to get through the night with. Soon the music was blasted and everyone was doing shots and dancing around my house.

The twins were impressing girls in the kitchen, this time with their new-found beer pong skills, instead of magic. But Harry was the one to watch, as he made up some wild story about his scar to a group of boys I’d known from down the street.

“Ron, I think she might be checking you out.” I giggled, leaning close so he could hear me over the music. He didn’t even bother looking at the girl I was talking about.

“Oh right,”

“Well aren’t you going to talk to her?” I nudged him.

“Oh, no I’m good thanks.” He took another gulp of his drink.

“Come on, you may as well give it a try. She won’t remember anything about tonight anyway,” I joked, he looked over at the girl giving him glances. She blushed when he noticed her.

“She’s not my type y/n,”

“God you’re so stubborn,” I laughed, finishing my drink. He didn’t say anything and just walked off, leaving me standing alone at my own party.

“Oh thanks a lot,” I scoffed and headed to the kitchen just to see Fred land another shot at the table. The boys on the opposing team were hammered and could barely see at this point.

“Having a good time y/n?” Fred asked, taking a break as they set up another round.

“Yeah this is fun, thanks you guys.”

“Oh it’s all Ron’s doing really,” George said, coming to my side as I poured another drink, not holding back on the spirits “Speaking of, where is he?”

“Oh he went off in a huff when I mentioned some girl was checking him out, I don’t know why he’s so stuck up about it. I was doing him a favour.”

Neither of the twins said a word, making me suspicious. “What?”

“Little Ronniekins does have a crush, you know.” George teased me.

“Oh not you guys too. Hermione said the same thing, he doesn’t like me like that.”

“Never underestimate how dim that boy can be y/n,” Fred huffed.

I gulped my drink down in a matter of seconds, sick of hearing them tell me something that didn’t feel true. I went to fill it up again, met with an empty bottle. In fact, there wasn’t much alcohol left at all.

“Great, looks like I’m off to the shops,” I rolled my eyes and turned around to see Hermione in the hallway. “I’m going out won’t be long.” I told her, she nodded in agreement. “Oh could you do me a favour-”

“I’ve already put a silencer on the house, no one on the street knows a thing.” She reassured me.

“God you’re good.” I laughed and took my coat off the hook. I temporarily lifted the obliviate spell on the door and passed through, seeing Ron sat on the front wall.

“So this is where the real party is,” I teased him, putting an arm around his shoulder.

He laughed lightly, unable to stay mad for too long.

“Are you going somewhere?” He pulled at my coat.

“Just to the shops, I won’t be long.”

“I can come if you want?” He offered.

“Yeah sure,” I smiled, jumping off the wall and stumbling back a bit with drunkenness.

“Careful darling,” He teased me, making me pout.

-

The streets were quiet on our walk back.

“This is fun,” He said in confidence.

“Do you mean us walking or the party?”

“Both, but this a bit more.” I was swaying about, the bottles in the bag rattling about. He took it from my hand with a laugh and used the other to hold me steady.

“Thank you, I can get clumsy when I’m drunk.” I rested my head on his shoulder as he slowed even more.

“It’s sweet.”

“You think so?” He nodded. “Hermione told me the surprise was your idea,”

“Uh yeah, sort of.”

“Well I think it was your best idea to date,”

Ron let go of my arm and took my hand in his, swinging it between the two of us.

“Hermione also told me something else,” I teased.

“What?” he seemed nervous.

“It’s a secret,”

“y/n,” he glared jokingly, “tell me.”

I stopped us in the street so I could get close to his ear to whisper.

“She told me that you’ve been talking about me all summer.” He was blushing slightly when I pulled away, but his hand remained in mine.

“Yeah I kinda have,” he kept his eyes on his feet as we started walking again. “But it’s only because I missed you.” “Aw I missed you too Ronniekins,” he shook his head.

“You’ve been spending too much time with Fred and George.”

“Are you jealous?” I joked.

“You’re my friend after all,”

We stopped at the front gate where Ron turned to face me as he leant against the wall, shoving his hands into his pockets as he spoke.

“I think you like me,” He declared boldly.

“You’re getting brave,” I teased.

“Am I right? That’s what matters.”

“Maybe a little,”

“I like you y/n,”

I smirked, moving closer to him so that he was pressed up against the brick.

“Does this mean I can kiss you already?”

Ron grabbed my face the second I had uttered those words, and kissed me hard as if it had been boiling inside him all this time. My hands grabbed at the collar of his shirt, playing with the fabric between my fingers while he caressed me gently.

He had a reserved sense of fierceness behind his actions. One part of him held me tight and close, unwilling to release me and halt our kiss. But the other side wondered whether he should savour this moment in all its glory.

A cough sounded at the door behind us, making both Ron and I jump apart.

“I would love to say ‘about time’, but we’re one down for our beer pong team and we can’t lose the streak.” George complained, and Ron nodded moving to follow his brother inside. “So come on y/n, you’re needed.”

“And that is why I am the best chaser on the quidditch team goalie,” I teased Ron, bringing him in with me.

-

Once all the alcohol had been consumed, one way or another, and all the muggle guests had left (with no recollection of the night at all) I began to clear up. Hermione was already in bed in my parents’ room, and Harry had been discarded on the kitchen table where he insisted he would spend the night.

The twins were dead asleep on the sofas when I checked on them, Ron clicking in their faces to try and rise them. With no luck.

“They’re out cold,” He laughed.

“Come on then, I’m tired.”

“Oh so you’re letting me join you,” Ron grabbed my waist, pulling me away from the staircase before I could even get a foot on the first step.

“Put me down Ron,” I giggled, jumping at the feeling of his lips on my neck. He began walking up the stairs and kicked open my door.

“Only when it’s safe to do so,” he joked, throwing me onto the bed.

I landed on my back, the air in my lungs knocked out.

“Careful, throw me around too much and I might just fuck you,” I joked, but Ron’s eyes were darker now as he smirked. I moaned internally, just seeing him like this got me excited.

“And if I did fuck you y/n?”

“I would never complain about anything, ever again.” I sighed and he threw his top off, getting on top of me and kissing my neck yet again. Deeper and harder, leaving little purple marks to show off the next morning.

His hands were all over my body, even more so when our clothes were gone. He reached down between my legs and pushed my thighs away ever so carefully. He whispered beside my ear, fingers ghosting over my panties.

“Is this what you want y/n?” I nodded, words seeming too complex. “You want my fingers inside you don’t you, knuckle deep?” All that came out was a gasp as he pulled the final item of clothing away and pushed a single finger in as promised.

I could hear how wet I was, and he could feel how, even around one finger, I was the tightest he had ever felt. One by one he added fingers, making my body seize up with the burning pleasure of their movements.

Then they were gone, dragged away, my back falling onto the mattress yet again this time with a disappointed sigh.

“Don’t worry darling, I’m not done.” He grinned, taking his cock from against his chest and pumping it. He was fully hard at just the sight of my naked body before him, all his to use as he desired. I had never wondered about the size of Ron’s cock, but this was beyond what I had ever imagined anyone’s.

It was thick and long and begging to be inside my dripping pussy. He leant closer, lining himself up with one hand and holding one of my thighs down with the other. I groaned at how forceful he was, enjoying that he was so openly having his way with me.

“You ready baby?” He asked.

“Yes… daddy,” Ron’s cock pushed deep inside me, and the nickname just made him want to get even deeper. He held one of my legs up, forcing me to tighten up around him.

“Oh fuck .. fuck.” I screamed, unbothered if I would wake the others.

“Turn around,” Ron demanded, to which I scrambled to bend over for him with my ass in the air. “Good girl,” He smacked my cheek with one hard slap and entered my pussy again in one smooth thrust, immediately groaning at the feeling.

He was hard, but I loved it. His rhythmic, strong thrusts would have sent me flying if it wasn’t for his iron grip on my waist keeping me down. I had no choice but to grip the bedsheets in my hand and scream myself silly while he pounded me like an animal.

One hand reached forward, round my neck and onto my throat. Ron pulled me up, so my back was pressed up against him.

“You’re gonna ride me now darling, like a dirty slut.” I moaned at his words, completely unravelled by them. I came then and there, being held like a willing prisoner and fucked like a whore. “Good girl,” He whispered, pushing me away and laying down, his hands resting behind his head as I climbed onto his cock and letting it slip up and into me.

This feeling, with his length, made riding an incredible experience. I felt unstoppable with Ron’s encouraging words and wandering hands that would rest upon my bouncing tits as my hips went up and down.

“Oh fuck, daddy I’m so close.” I screamed, getting faster as I chased my high like a hungry bitch.

“I want to cum inside you y/n,” He told me.

“Do it,” I groaned out. “I’ll cum too, I promise.”

“Beg,”

I pleaded out, over and over, before he spilled inside me. Less than a second after I came all over his thick cock, falling down in exhaustion and laying beside him. The only noise in the room was our laboured breathing, but Ron took my hand in his and kissed it.

“You’re incredible,” he spoke softly, now worried that we might have woken the whole street if it wasn’t for the house’s silencer.

A few moments later, once we had finally come round again, I pulled the covers over us and let Ron hold me close.

“We have to leave in the morning,” He told me.

“Can’t you just stay the rest of the weekend?” “Mum and dad are going away, and they can’t leave Ginny on her own.”

“I’ll miss you,” I told him.

“Come with us, you can stay the rest of the holiday.” He offered up, not wanting to sleep without me by his side now he felt how normal it felt to have me in his arms.

“I wish I could, but I have to work.”

“Just quit, it wouldn’t matter.”

“I need that job when I come back next summer,” I laughed, but Ron had a thought on his mind.

“Don’t come back next summer, just stay with us. You’re always complaining that your parents are never here. And if you want to see your friends, you can still visit.”

“Every summer at the burrow, with you?”

“Only if you want to,”

“I really want to.” I smiled, nustling into his side.

-

The next morning I packed a bag and wrote two letters. One for my boss, to explain that I had to quit under important circumstances and that I was very sorry. The other for my parents, telling them not to worry. That I was grateful for them always, but that I had friends to be my family now.

“Come on y/n,” Harry shouted down the stone steps, “I want to go to diagon alley before we leave London.” I threw my case down to George, who almost fell at the weight of it.

“Y/n?” Jade shouted to me across the road. The Weasley’s, Harry and Hermione froze at the sight of her but she smiled at them politely as if she’d never met them. A silent sigh of relief was sounded by us all. “What happened last night?” She asked, putting us on edge again.

“What do you mean?” I laughed it off.

“Well I remember bringing loads of people over, but I can’t for the life of me recall anything that happened last night.”

“You must have been really drunk Jade, I saw you and it looked bad.”

“Oh god, I feel awful. I must have been a real hassle.” She noticed the twins eyeing her from the group. “They look familiar, have I met them before?”

“No, they’ve just picked me up. I’m going away for a bit but I’ll let you know when I’m back.” Her attention was quickly back on me.

“Okay, well, have a good summer and ring me when you can.” She hugged me goodbye and headed off back up the road.

“She totally had a thing for me last night,” Fred gloated.

“No she did not, she wanted me.” George argued.

“Oh shut it you two!” Hermione huffed, sporting yet another hangover. “Are we all ready?”

I took Ron’s hand in mine and smiled at the ginger boy beside me, “Ready.”

[millllenniawrites]

sparks fly (Poe Dameron x Reader)

part three of dear love of mine

words: 1.6k

warnings: very very slight dom!reader vibes; tension; second hand embarrassment; reader has a last name; regency au for the aesthetic but it’s historically inaccurate for the *vibes*; afab!reader; slow burn; sexual themes throughout; eventual smut; pining; warnings will be added as the series progresses

a/n: this chapter was supposed to be longer but I decided to split up some scenes so I could get it to you sooner!! I hope you guys like it!

__

Poe did not attend breakfast the next morning.

You weren’t sure what you were expecting. It’s not like you could very well ask him why he decided sneaking into your room in the dead of night was appropriate in front of your mother and your staff, even if he had come.

But your questions nagged at you. Had he known that you were out in another part of the house? Had he expected to find you in bed? What would he have done? He couldn’t very well have come into your room. That wouldn’t be proper.

Not that you were worrying about your prospects. It wouldn’t matter if you were untouched if you were never going to marry.

Not that he’d ever—

As you jolted yourself out of your thoughts, you kicked up, sending Ana’s cup careening off the table. Finn managed to catch it before it hit the ground, which your mother applauded. As if that was some trick of magic and not pure luck.

Ana batting her eyes at him and the way he softly smiled was enough for you to keep your mouth shut, if only barely. The men in your home were here to ensure Ana and Finn were married. And quickly.

You’d returned to your room after breakfast, claiming an entirely false headache before shutting yourself in for the day. Retrieving the note from under your pillow, you read over his words again.

Your humble servant.

Humble, indeed. So humble he dared to insult your mother and your household by not showing up to his first breakfast in your home.

You traced over the curl of his name. Poe. It was strange, how fitting it was. Gentle. Like the slope of his neck…

Crumpling the letter in your hand, you stuffed it back beneath your pillow and lay atop it. It seemed the General did not need to be in your presence to be needling away at your patience.

You retrieved an old copy of one of your father’s favourite novels, intending to distract yourself from the handsome stranger and dive into a well-loved tale. Running your fingertips along the edge of the cover, you squinted your eyes in an attempt to focus.

You read the same sentence over and over. It was as if your mind had refused to cooperate.

A change of scenery. That should do the trick.

With your book tucked under your arm, you snuck out of your room and made for the drawing room on the first floor. The couch in the corner had a beautiful view of the mountains…

A view that had been thoroughly obstructed by one General’s large, curly, unkept head.

Ana sat across from him, and Finn beside them both at one of the smaller card tables in the centre of the room. Lord Barnes spread out a group of playing cards in one hand and leaned over to fan Ana with them, making her giggle.

Slowly, you began to back out of the room, but your sister caught your eye before you could escape.

“Sister! Come sit!” Ana patted the stool beside her. “We can play as teams! That would be much more fun.”

Lord Barnes stood and gestured across the table to the empty seat. “Miss Dean. If you would be so kind as to join us.”

You approached the table as you would a rabid animal. The General stood slowly, as if in pain, though he straighten the moment his eyes found you.

“Miss Dean,” He sounded surprised. Did he find it odd that you would frequent your own drawing room?

Perhaps he was not as educated as he claimed.

At least he was now dressed. His dark coat was fully buttoned, his teasing sliver of chest from the night before thoroughly covered.

“General Dameron,” You bowed your head slightly, only enough to be polite. “I trust you slept well?”

He had the decency to look embarrassed, though he recovered much too quickly for your liking. “I must apologize for my absence this morning. It was a late night.”

Something glittered in his eyes that had you casting your gaze to the ground. There was a darkness to him that you refused to allow yourself to examine, no matter how much it may intrigue you.

You allowed him to push in your chair, though you did not take the hand offered to help you sit, however tempting the warmth of his skin may be.

“Well, what are we playing?”

Finn quickly dealt out playing cards. The game was a simple race to 23 points. Ana and the General played on one team, with you and Finn on the other. You angled yourself as to not brush elbows with the General, though it seemed you could not avoid his gaze, which brushed it’s way over your form as one would brush away fallen leaves. A nuisance, but somehow necessary.

“Where is your other sister? Siena, is it?” The General asked in a lull of conversation.

“With her governess, mostly likely.” Ana answered simply.

The General’s eyebrows shot up his face and you muffled a snort.

“I had not realized she was so young.”

You had more than a handful of things to say if the General had the intention of courting your sister, but Ana beat you to it.

“She is a sweet girl.”

“As most children are.” You followed up, not needing to meet your sister’s gaze to know her intentions.

As much as you differed on your expectations for your futures and the way you saw the world, you and Ana had never once disagreed about Siena. She insisted on growing up too quickly and your mother, in her age and grief, did not have the keen eye she once kept on her two eldest daughters. Even for her clear favourite.

So it was up to you and Ana to look after her, down to ensuring her hems were taken down and her governess reported to you both in secret.

You paid her handsomely to do so and her bore concerns of her own. It wasn’t as if she was going to refuse.

You caught on to the game quickly. Finn was a good partner, keeping up with your quick changes in strategy with such a keen eye that you could have sworn he was reading your mind.

He made you laugh a few times, breaking you out of the overcast mood that the General’s presence put you in.

He’d be a good match for Ana. You were certain of that.

Eventually, his good-naturedness and Ana’s swooning over him relaxed you enough to engage the General in polite conversation.

He asked after your favourite novels and you listed a few obscure titles that he certainly could not have studied. When he admitted as much, you gave him some grace and engaged him on his knowledge of Shakespeare.

“Well, Romeo and Juliet is of course the greatest love story ever told, so I have studied it at length.”

Finn clapped him on the back and leaned across the table as if to tell you a secret. “This one is quite the romantic.”

You rolled your eyes and Finn guffawed, leaning back so far in his chair that you were afraid it might break. He laughed with his whole body, oozing a confidence and joy into the room that you hoped he might bring to his relationship with your sister.

The General cleared his throat. Embarrassment looked good on him. He was a much smaller man without his bravado lifting his chin so high. There was something… sweet, almost, about him.

As he ducked his head, you noticed what appeared to be a bit of a feather stuck in his hair.

You set your cards on the table and started to reach out, but hesitated at the last moment. Hands clutched to your chest, you giggled, “General, you have a bit of…”

The small bit of fluff bounced as he shook his head in an attempt to free it. His curls flew out like wings, but it didn’t release itself.

“Let me.” You reached forward, tipping Poe’s face up with two gentle fingers beneath his chin. At your touch, his lips parted in a small breath that had heat rising to your face faster than you could combat it. You plucked the white fibre from his curls and carefully swept them back into place before leaning away and letting him go.

The way his throat bobbed with shallow breaths did not evade you.

“There,” you whispered, returning to your cards. Your face burned, but you did not meet his eyes. “Fixed.”

Ana loudly cleared her throat. “Lord Barnes, I believe it is your turn.”

You glanced up at Finn. He had hidden his mouth behind his cards, though it did little to hide the amusement shining in his eyes.

This was a plan, a scheme of theirs. Boys. Children.

A plan to embarrass you.

Surely.

It had to be.

Ana gripped your thigh, as if anticipating you would stand and excuse yourself. “Lord Barnes—” she paused and corrected herself, “Finn, if you would be so kind as to make your next move.”

The game continued on for some time, but the tension didn’t lessen. Ana and Finn flirted in your peripheral vision but you couldn’t concentrate on anything but Poe. Ana had to remind you to take your turns and Finn groaned about some of your choices, but you weren’t really paying enough attention to even try to defend yourself. Every slight movement of Poe’s, a swallow or slight widening of his knees, had you flushed and near-panting.

The game couldn’t end quick enough. You did not meet Poe’s gaze again, even as he helped you out of your chair.

You made the mistake of taking his hand. His palm was soft, his fingers rough against yours. Though the touch was brief, it made you shiver when he let you go and took a respectful step back.

“Thank you,” you breathed before sweeping from the room.

[itmighthavebeenintentional]

We've Got Tonight - Ch 4

Summary: “It’s not your job to do this, Andy. You make people happy. I was in the diner all of ten minutes, and you knew exactly how to get me to smile. You do normal, real things like garden and sing karaoke. Saving the world is my job, Sam’s job. Sometimes it’s even Cas’s job, but it’s not yours.”

Inspired by Bob Seger’s “We’ve Got Tonight”

Warnings: Major Character Death, More Major Character Deaths (sort of?), higher than show level violence, blood, light smutting, language, demons, apocalypse, inferred suicide, cult activity.

18+ ONLY, MINORS DO NOT PROCEED

Author’s Note: This story is set hazily around season 8. Just squint a little, and it’ll settle in somewhere. I wrote this story after certain big revelations in the show, but before other big ones; you’ll most likely be able to tell which. I play with time a bit in the story itself, so if things seem out of order, they are. Hopefully, by the end, all the pieces will fit together.

What the hell, let’s give it a shot.

EXTRA WARNING: THIS CHAPTER IS THE SOURCE OF MOST OF THE WARNINGS FOR THE STORY. Please don't kill me. THIS IS NOT THE LAST CHAPTER, I PROMISE. It's not over yet. I can't promise you won't hate me when it's over, but I will not leave you here. There's more.

Image and major edits by the incomparable @there-must-be-a-lock . Heavy editing and cheering by @thoughtslikeaminefield . Thank you both so much.

In case you missed it: Chapter 3 ItMightHaveBeenintentional’s Masterlist

...

We’ve Got Tonight

Ch 4

Pre-dawn is too damn cold, she decides. She has to visually check that her fingers are actually doing up the buttons to her ragged denim jacket. She lost sensation in her hands a while back, and it’s the only way to make sure they’re actually doing their job. Her jacket is utterly unsuitable for the current temperature, but she doesn’t expect to need it for much longer.

Just before sunrise, Crowley told her.

The sky is already lightening on the horizon, the medium gray more obvious than she would have thought against the stark black, but, then, she’s never had much occasion to be out quite this late before. She’s usually done at the diner by six, singing at the club by ten, and in bed by two at the latest. She hopes Crowley is punctual. She can’t decide if the waiting or the cold is worse.

Except that, yes, she really can. The waiting is definitely worse.

The sound of shifting gravel pulls her out of her thoughts, and she turns to find the King of Hell himself smiling beatifically at her. She shivers, not bothering to search out the source of her discomfort, as she is rather spoiled for choice at the moment. She’s out in the freezing dark, about to hand over her life and soul to a demon because deranged cultists got it into their heads that they should use her blood to start an apocalypse (and who knew there was more than one of those outside of Sunnydale, seriously).

Shivering is probably the most rational reaction she’s had in a while.

“Hello, darling. Pleasant evening with the boys?”

He’s got more sass in one off-the cuff remark than she has in her entire history, and for a moment she can only marvel at the affected innocence in his expression. It's almost convincing. She opts to remain silent rather than take his bait. He smirks, the expression natural and only a touch derisive.

“No surprises, then? No sidekicks to save you at the last minute from the bad, bad demon?”

“I thought the torture didn’t start until after you kill me,” she sighs, hugging her arms tighter around herself, a futile attempt to ward off the chill. Maybe she’s got a little spark in her, after all. He laughs, a friendly, personable chuckle that would set anyone else at ease, reassure them of his honorable, benign intentions.

“Come on, Crowley, what's the hold up? I was here on time. Can we just get this over with already? I could have gotten one more round in with Dean if we were just going to stand around, shootin’ the breeze.”

Even watching for it, she can only just see the tick in Crowley's jaw, the slightest tension that betrays...something. She doesn't know what or why, but Crowley has more than a little unhealthy obsession with the elder Winchester brother, and she is pleased she managed to crack his veneer even for the briefest moment.

At least I don't have to worry about Dean, Andy thinks, relief creeping into the sea of dread that is her stomach. Her deal with Crowley was not only about stopping the apocalypse but also keeping Sam and Dean and even Castiel safe.

“Once you're gone, I won’t harm a hair on their precious heads, nor any other part of them,” he swore to her a mere eighteen hours earlier.

“I’m hurt you don't find my company more pleasant, love,” he murmurs, taking a couple of steps closer. He slides his hands in his coat pockets, the very picture of nonchalance. “I do try my best to be cordial, even congenial, after all. But since you’re so very uncomfortable, I suppose you won't object, then, that I took the liberty of inviting a few friends whose company you seem to prefer. What a lovely party we’ll have when they get here.”

As if he’s summoned them, a pair of lights appear in the distance, growing larger with every passing moment. Headlights, she realizes; a second later, she hears the distinctive roaring of a very particular car engine, and before she can turn back to Crowley, the Impala leaps out of the darkness, skidding across the hard-packed dirt road, coming to a halt bare inches from the demon’s impeccably shined shoes.

Andy stumbles back, choking in the cloud of dust the car kicks up, only to hit something solid. Impossibly strong fingers dig into her chin, lifting her face out and away as cold, thin metal is pressed to the side of her neck, and only now does she freeze.

“Let her go, Crowley,” Dean growls, his gun drawn and aimed even before he exits the car. “This isn't her fight, and you know it!” On the other side, Sam and Castiel climb out, Sam drawing his gun and moving to flank the demon.

“I do heartily protest, sir,” Crowley says, his tone mild and conversational. The blade digs in ever so slightly under her ear, and a thin trickle of warmth slides down her skin to soak into her collar. Dean doesn't flinch, but his eyes narrow, and he readjusts his aim.

“Not only is the lady at the epicenter of this fight, she's gone and made herself the brightest star in the show. Ask her yourself, if you don’t believe me.”

“How-” she manages through fear-numbed vocal cords. Dean should be unconscious, snoring blissfully away in his bed where she left him. She made sure to leave no sort of trail they could follow, and she checked that they were all asleep or otherwise occupied before she took off.

“I wasn’t asleep, Andy,” Dean replies, leveling his gun at Crowley. “And I’ve been tracking since I was seven. Gimme some credit.”

“I wouldn't do that, if I were you, Moose.” Crowley’s words freeze Sam in his tracks, and the blade on Andy’s neck digs in a little deeper. The flow of warmth down her neck widens just a touch. The sheer smugness in Crowley’s tone sets her teeth on edge, breaking through her stupor, and she grabs the hand with the knife, pulling at it with all her might. She, of course, doesn’t make a dent in the demonic strength, but she’s got to try something.

If you asked her later, Andy would swear to you that the searing pain that drags along her neck parallel to her jaw line right then is pure Hellfire. Deep down in the darkest recesses of her mind where all the worst truths lurk, she knows she’s feeling the bite from Crowley’s knife, but in that instant all she is aware of is the agony of the wound, of Dean’s enraged roar, and the juxtaposition of Crowley’s gentle touch pressing her own fingers to something hot and slippery under her jaw.

“Hold pressure there, sweetheart, or you’ll bleed out too soon. Wouldn’t want you to miss the finale.”

Her knees buckle, and she drops, but somehow she stays upright long enough to see Crowley’s demons approach out of the darkness. She tries to warn the boys, but time moves with a dreamlike lethargy that betrays every one of her good intentions, and, anyway, her voice doesn’t seem to be working at the moment. The roar of gunfire all around her sounds faint in comparison to the rushing in her ears, and she is powerless to stop Crowley’s plans from reaching fruition.

“You...said...you wouldn’t...”

“Well, pet, you aren’t dead yet, are you? I’ve got, what, at least another three minutes before you snuff it, by my count. Plenty of time to conclude my business with the Winchesters and their featherbrained friend before you expire.”

Though he was right behind her only a moment ago, Crowley appears abruptly next to Castiel, who at the moment is distracted by two lesser demons both wielding machetes. She realizes as she watches Cas easily fend them off that they, just like Andy, are only a distraction, only bait to tempt the bigger players to overextend themselves.

Too late, she sees the perfection of Crowley’s plan. In all the confusion, she loses track of Sam, and she wrenches her eyes away from Dean’s staggering form only to watch as the angel blade in Crowley’s hand bursts through Castiel’s chest. Then her gentle, confused friend is gone in a flash. The demons vanish, and she can’t find Sam or Dean, can’t reach them, can’t make her voice work to call out.

The quiet is wrong, so out of place after the violent cacophony. The roaring is gone, the gunfire silenced, and all that’s left is a terrible wheezing, gurgling sound that takes her too long to recognize as her own labored breathing.

“Crow...ley…”

“I’m here, darling. What do you need?”

“Lying...bastard…”

“Now, now, sweetheart, are those really what you want your last words to be?” He lifts her easily from the ground, carrying her the few yards to where Dean lies sprawled in the dusty gravel. His shirt is stained black in the retreating darkness, and Andy can only be thankful that she won’t make it to sunrise to see what exact shade of red is spreading over him. Dean’s far hand scrabbles on the ground, stopping its frantic search only when it finds his brother’s.

Sam’s still form doesn’t return his brother’s grip.

“After all, I’ve done you a favor; I didn’t have to give you the opportunity to say good-bye. I can’t promise you adjoining cells, but I’m sure your torture will coincide with his occasionally,” Crowley continues conversationally, “so, really, the two of you should be thanking me that you’ll at least get occasional visiting privileges. It pays to be on good terms with the king, after all. And, who knows? After a couple hundred years of good behavior, I might even be persuaded to-”

“Why?” It’s all she can manage as he lays her on the ground. Dean reaches for her with his free hand, and she is just able to find his fingers. Their eyes meet, but her vision is blurring as breathing gets tougher, and she can’t see what he’s mouthing to her. Even his eyes, such a luminescent green only hours ago, are fading into the remaining dark of the night.

“The Winchesters, dear, it’s always been about the Winchesters. Oh, the fanatics and their doomsday ritual were real enough, as was your blood. I just simply took advantage of the situation, as any intelligent monarch would do. Settled things with the apocalypse groupies, rid myself of some major pains in my rear, and now I get you, to boot! I do love when a plan comes together.”

Dean’s fingers tighten in hers, and she tries to grip his back, but the harder she holds on, the less she can feel him.

She’s not really feeling much of anything but cold now.

“Shut...up...already.”

“Always ungrateful in the end, even after everything I do for them,” Crowley grumbles from above her. But then he does shut up, and she finally feels something besides the cold.

Relief. ...

Chapter 5

[stranger-who-writes-fiction]

Back at it again with my self-indulgent comic posts. This time! It’s Supergirl: Woman of Tomorrow #3, perhaps the most tonally-distinct entry yet, with shades of The Twilight Zone. 

Spoilers!

So, as mentioned, this issue is the most deliberate in terms of both its pacing and its tone, IMO.

What is that tone, you ask?

To quote Alex Danvers, from “Midvale”: Hello, darkness.

THE STORY:

Kara and Ruthye are still looking for Krem Clues in the alien town of Maypole.

(Which is actually just Small Town, USA, complete with vintage 50s aesthetics.)

But the locals are clearly hiding something! So Kara and Ruthye continue to investigate, and they eventually discover what it was that the residents of Maypole were so keen to keep hidden. 

Genocide, basically. 

As I said, this issue struck me as very Twilight Zone; a genre story involving the build-up to a dark twist, all set against the backdrop of an idyllic small town. (Think, like, “The Monsters are Due on Maple Street” but instead of focusing on the Red Scare, it’s classism and racism.)

The wealthier blue aliens kicked all of the purple aliens out of town, and when space pirates showed up to pillage and plunder, the blue aliens made a deal with them: the lives of the purple aliens in exchange for their safety.  

Which is where the episodic story connects to the larger mission; it was Krem who suggested the trade, and then joined up with the Brigands (space pirates) when he was freed by the blue aliens.

The issue ends with no tidy resolution to the terrible things Kara and Ruthye discovered, but they do have a lead on where to find Krem, now, as well as Barbond’s Brigands.

KARA-CTERIZATION:

Ironically, it’s here, in the darkest chapter yet, that we get the closest to what might be considered ‘classic’ Kara. 

Which I think comes down to that aforementioned deliberate pace--this issue is a little slower, a little quieter. It gives the characters some room to breathe.

That’s not to say Crusty Kara is gone. Oh no. She is still very much Crusty. XD 

But anyways. A list! Of Kara moments I loved!

I mentioned a few of these in a prior post when the preview pages came out: I like the moment where Kara blows down the guy’s house of cards, and I like that the action is echoed later in the issue when she grabs the mayor’s desk and tosses it aside. A nice visual representation of the escalation of Kara being, like. Done with these creeps. (Creeps is an understatement but you get the idea.)

Another one from the preview pages: Kara explains to Ruthye that her super hearing won’t necessarily help her detect a lie, especially if she’s dealing with an alien species she’s not familiar with.

It not only reveals her level of competence and understanding of her super powers, it also shows that, you know. She’s a thinker. She’s smart. 

Amazing! Showing, rather than telling us, that Kara is smart! Without mentioning the science guild at all wow hey wow.

(Sorry, pointed criticism of the SG show fandom.)

Anyways.

I dig the PJs! 

And Kara catching the bullet! Not only are the poses and character acting great, it’s also a neat bit of panel composition:

We start with Ruthye’s POV, and then move to the wide shot of the room. The panel where Kara actually catches the bullet is down and to the side of the wide shot panel--we move our eyes the way her body/arm would have to move to intercept the bullet. Physicality in static, 2D images!

Also, like. It’s a very tense moment, life-or-death, but. Ruthye’s wide-eyed surprise at the bullet in Kara’s hand? Kind of adorable. 

I was pretty much prepared for the page of Kara shielding Ruthye from the gunfire to be the highlight--it was one of the first pages King shared and I was like, ‘yeah, YEAH.’ But, shockingly? The TRUE highlight of the issue?

Where do I BEGIN?!?!

EVERYTHING. About this moment. Is lovely.

From Kara holding Ruthye above the bench to explaining the concept of a piggyback ride, to telling her:

“I’m going to hold my hands here, and these hands can turn coal into diamonds, so they’re not going to let go. I’m going to keep you safe.”

HNNNNNNNNNNNG.

Ruthye’s narration--about how Kara had avoided flying as she was concerned it would freak Ruthye out--just adds a whole additional layer of YES, GOOD, YES, and her line on that splash page is great: “You see, all that time, she was worried about me.”

HNNNNNNNNNNNG. AGAIN.

To say nothing of the STELLAR ARTWORK.

And SPEAKING of that stellar artwork, Evely and Lopes continue to knock it out of the park. Each issue is distinct and beautifully crafted, a true joy to look at.

Before I jump into more of the art, a few final notes of character stuff in general.

Ruthye is the one most affected by the experience in Maypole, as she can’t comprehend how a society of people that look so nice and gentle and peaceful could have been party to such a horrible act.

One of the big criticisms of the book thus far is that Supergirl is not the main character, and I guess I can agree with that observation. Typically, in Western media, the main character is the one who goes through the most change in the story. 

And, yeah. That’s Ruthye.

As I was reading the end, where Ruthye sits on the curb and Kara hugs her, I was imagining how the scene would’ve played, had King stuck with the original idea for the series: Kara as the one learning to be tough/experiencing all of this for the first time, and while I think that could certainly work...

I continue to appreciate that King literally flipped the script; that Kara, especially in this issue, is like, ‘I’ve seen this, I know this,’ as opposed to being the one going through a loss of innocence.

*Marge Simpson voice* I just think it’s neat!

Because Kara’s been a teen in DC comics for so long--ever since she was reintroduced to the main DCU continuity, actually--so this is all brand new territory, here. Having an older Kara who’s SEEN SOME STUFF.

(Alsoooooo, since Bendis made the destruction of Krypton not just inaction and climate disaster, but rather, genocide, and the subtext of a Kryptonian diaspora text, the waitress’ derogatory comment regarding the the destruction of Kryton, as well as Kara picking up the bad vibes the entire time, suggests not just a broad commentary on discrimination in all its forms, but specifically allegorical anti-Semitism. The purple aliens being forced out of their homes and into substandard living conditions, then the blue aliens--their neighbors and once-fellow residents--essentially allowing the space pirates to kill them, making them literal scapegoats, Kara discovering the remains of the purple aliens, and Ruthye’s horror at the ‘banality of evil’...yes. A case could be made, I think.) 

(Which would probably require a post unto itself and a lot more in-depth discussion, nuance, and cited sources.)

(Should mention that King has brought up that both he and Orlando--the other Supergirl writer he talked to--are Jewish, and for him personally, that shaped his views on Kara’s origin story.)

I guess my point is that this issue is perhaps not as out-of-left-field as some might think, and just because there isn’t as obvious an arc for Kara, doesn’t mean there isn’t some sharp character work at play. 

(I could be WAY OFF, of course, and I’m not suggesting it’s a clear 1:1 comparison. I’d actually really love to hear King talk about this issue in particular.)

Anyways.

Here’s the final page, which I think works, because as I mentioned before, there is no easy answer/quick wrap-up to the story of Maypole:

THE ART:

I mean. How many times can I just shout ‘ART! AAAARRRRRRRRRRRTTTT!’ before it gets old?

I dunno, but I guess we’re gonna FIND OUT.

There are some panels in this issue that I just. Like ‘em! From a purely artistic standpoint! Because they’re so good!

Like, I just really love the way Kara is drawn in that top panel. Her troubled, confused expression, the colors of the fading light, the HAIR. 

Evely draws the best hair. I know I’ve said this before. I don’t care. I will continue to say it, because it continues to be true.

The issue I find myself running up against when I make these posts is that I really don’t want to post whole pages, as that’s generally frowned upon (re: pirating etc.) but with something like this, you just can’t appreciate it in panel-by-panel snippets.

(Guided View on digital reading platforms is a BANE and a POX I say!)

Anyways.

LOVE the implied movement of the cape settling as Kara speeds in and stops. 

And, obviously, Kara flicking the bullet away is just. A+. 

And the EYES, man. LOPES’ COLORS ON THE EYES???!?! BEAUTIFUL.

Also, should note the lettering! The more rounded letters for the ‘WOOSH’ of Kara’s speed (and, earlier, the super breath) work nicely, and contrast with the angular, violent BLAMS of the gunshots. 

And, I gotta say, the editor is doing a really great job of not cluttering up the artwork with all the caption boxes. Which is no small task.

(I assume the editor is placing them, as editors usually handle word balloon/caption box placement, but I suppose it could be Evely? Sometimes the artist handles it. Either way, whoever’s taking care of all the text, EXCELLENT WORK! BRAVO!)

Okay I think that’s everything.

Ah, nope, wait.

MISC.

Just a funny observation, more than anything else: Superman: Red and Blue dropped this week, and King had a story in there, “The Special” (which was very good, btw.) Both Lois and the waitress swear a lot so I’m beginning to think that this is just how King writes dialogue for any adult character who isn’t Clark. XD

This is absolutely a personal preference but when Kara was like, “And my name IS Supergirl,” I was like nooooo. I know King is trying to simplify all of the conflicting origin stories and lore but I LIKE KARA DANVERS, SIR. XD

It’s almost assuredly a cash-grab/an attempt for DC to get all the money it can out of a book they don’t have much confidence in, but I like the cardstock covers! Very classy, much Strange Adventures.

(OH my gosh, can you imagine that issue 1 cover with spot gloss???? Basically the only way you could possibly improve on it.) 

Okay NOW I’m done. For real. XD NEXT TIME: Kara and Ruthye go after Krem and the Brigands!

[victoria-daydreams]

Of Vices and Virtues

Chapter Twelve: What Are These Feelings?

AN: Up until now, this story has been rather lighthearted hasn’t it? Well, this chapter is not. I hope the chapter isn’t too confusing to read, the italics denote memories/the past.

Word Count: 4.4k

Trigger Warning: period era racism, racial abuse, racial slurs, sexual assault, torture, physical and mental abuse

Taglist: @azayamari​

Chapter Thirteen: The Ballad of Claudia Walker

After the silent establishment between Erik and I on not discussing our night time conversation or the bathtub incident, things went back to normal between us. Well normal for us. I continued to find new ways to sass Erik and he still pretended I annoyed him. It was childish but fun. Pretty soon, the days turned into routine, days turning into a week, and then some. In fact, the dates would have blurred if it weren't for the constant announcements from the radio and the television. The routine was set and constant, running in the morning followed by physical training. After that, we went on with our individual training.

Today was no different, Charles had spent the day working on different tactics and ways of controlling the younger mutant abilities during their individual trainings with him. While I found myself entranced with the weight room. I had been dying to do something other than venture around. Something to waste time. I immediately went to the punching bag. I tied up my hair, wrapped my knuckles and feet, then got into my stance.

I closed my brown eyes, letting my surroundings fade, letting only the serene feeling of it just being me and the punching bag. I first just worked slowly on popping out each hand, as it carefully, but swiftly, hit the air. I did this for a minute, until I felt my hands were ready, and I began to move on to the bag. My left hand shot out, striking the bag with a fist, I was about to hit with my right as my fist threw forward, and connected with thin air. Dumbfounded, I opened my eyes in shock, and saw the bag levitating over my head. I whirled around, and found Erik with his brows raised at me.

"Give me back the bag," was my only demand.

"I think I might just leave it here," he snickered softly.

I pinched the brim of my nose, "Erik, I hope there's a reason for you coming in here other than being an annoyance,"

"As a matter of fact I do," Erik replied, the bag dropping to the ground behind me, as he started to move closer to me. "I was hoping to find you here actually," he stated, with his hands in his pockets.

"Why?"

"I have a question," Erik began. "Could you look into my head and know what moves I'm about to use on you?"

"Maybe, I could predict your movement by reading your emotional pulses," I guessed, shrugging my shoulders.

"How easy would it be to not do it?" Erik asked curiously.

I looked at him confused, "What do you mean?"

"I mean, do you see other people's emotions naturally? Or would you be able to stop yourself seeing how I'm about to attack you?" Erik elaborated.

I thought about his question for a while. I have never put that much thought into reading emotional pulses during a fight, I was mainly focused on everyday emotions and feelings.

"I could stop it. Block you off, so to speak," I finally replied, and he nodded.

"Good, do that,"

"Is this round two from our last little spar?" I asked, a grin on my face and Erik rolled his eyes, but he mirrored my grin.

The two of us stood for a moment, I was unsure of what exactly to do next, until Erik suddenly launched his fist towards me. I barely managed to block him, but didn't catch the kick to my shins, causing me to stumble. Erik continued to push me back, I could tell he was noting each failed block and each successful attack that I landed. Breathing heavily, I stepped back slightly and used my legs to my advantage, lashing out with a powerful front kick, spinning on the ball of my foot with a roundhouse kick, and continued the spin for a back kick.

That's when I felt Erik's foot on my rear and he pushed me off balance. Falling forward, I rolled and came up with fire in my eyes – and saw his smirk.

"Oh Claudia, for all your talk you're still simply a pretty face, not a force to be reckoned with," he taunted.

He was playing with me, trying to get a rise out of me.

"Damn this man to Hell," I thought.

Narrowing my eyes at him, I hopped up to my feet and raised my hands into a fighting stance, pure determination on my face to wipe the smirk off his face. I just needed to knock him on his ass one good time. Erik's fist blurred in front of my eyes and I nimbly slipped past the punch. The advantage was mine now, with a bob in my stance I unleashed a series of punches. Erik grinned at me, seeming proud that he caused me to show visible signs of frustration on my face. I think Erik was much too happy about it and dropped his guard because my fist flew right into his right eye. He slumped down on the ground with his hand to his eye momentarily stunned by the force of the punch I'd thrown.

"Oh my God! Erik I'm so sorry!" I hurried down to his side taking his head into my hands. "Let me see it!" I demanded, worry evident in my voice.

"I'm fine I swear!" Erik insisted taking his hand from his right eye.

"I'll be the judge of that thank you very much," I commented, placing my hand softly to his temple stroking his eye softly. "Does this hurt?" I asked, feeling guilty, but also an inkling of gratification at the same time.

"No, but that doesn't you should stop," Erik answered cheekily with his eyes closed contently.

"Ugh, I can't believe you!" I exclaimed smiling, letting his head drop with a soft thud.

I stood up and slipped my sneakers back on walking out the gym. I shook my head at Erik's antics and I could hear him coming from behind me. An arm wrapped itself around my shoulder and I peered up at him with an eyebrow arched.

"You always hit harder when I insult you," Erik commented, a grin on his face. "I guess I know what I need to do now," he added, and I rolled my eyes.

I folded my arms together as we made our way down the hallway, "Why, so I can end up like you?" I asked, a smirk forming on my lips. "Always running head first into everything and almost getting yourself killed," I pointed out, looking up at him again. "Although, I will say you had one interesting technique earlier..." I trailed off.

"And what was that?"

I stood on my tiptoes and leaned into Erik, "When you kicked me...I felt that you wanted a different...body part there instead," I whispered, drawing back from him.

Erik froze and laughter bubbled from my throat at his face. His eyes were wide, a stunned expression played on his face as I watched his cheeks slightly flushed with red. I clasped my hands together in front of me, smiling wildly as I moved away from the stock-still body of Erik.

"Thanks for the training Erik!"

~~~x~~~

It was late in the afternoon, and it was finally my turn to fine tune my abilities.

"I know you hate the idea of doing this, but it's for your benefit Claudia," Charles began, holding my hand in his own and I furrowed my brow as to where this was going. "I need you to lower your barriers for me," he continued, making my eyes widened and nostrils flare.

"What!" I yelped, my breathing began to quicken, becoming shallow. "No!" I exclaimed, shaking my head as I attempted to tug my hand away from Charles', but he kept a firm, yet gentle grip on it.

"Hey, hey, hey, don't be afraid. I've got you," he assured, rubbing his thumb over my knuckles. "It will be one quick test and then we'll be done, okay?" Charles asked, a soft smile on his as he gave my hand a small squeeze.

He looked at me waiting for my response, but I turned my head away from his gaze. Still breathing rapidly I clenched my eyes shut, remembering the last time I trusted someone with my barriers lowered. But this was Charles. Charles was kind. Sweet. The opposite of him. He'd never have any ill-intentions with me. I took a deep, shaky breath as I calmed myself down. Suddenly, I felt two soft hands cup my face and slowly opened my eyes to meet Charles' eyes. I could see the twinkle in his eye that would cause many women to simper.

"Claudia," he breathed, looking at me. "I would never hurt you," Charles promised, using his thumbs to stroke my cheeks.

I opened my mouth to speak, but paused and looked down. I took another few deep breaths before looking up at him.

"One test?" I repeated softly.

Charles nodded, "You have my word," he stated.

I wrapped my arms around myself, slowly nodding my head, "Okay...I'll do it," I agreed, mustering up a weak smile.

Charles smiled as well, "You're going to be fine," he reassured, before planting his lips on top of my head.

Removing his hands from my face, he backed away from me just as the sound of footsteps came to a stop at the entrance of the library.

"Everything alright in here?" Erik asked, raising an eyebrow and looking between Charles and I before resting one arm on the frame of the door.

Charles flashed him a smile, "We're fine, I was just reassuring Claudia about her training," he explained, rolling up his sleeves

"So, we're all set then?" Erik questioned, pushing off the frame and closing the door behind him.

I arched an eyebrow, "You knew about this too?" I asked, my eyes slightly widening.

Erik nodded, "Charles knew you would be uncomfortable with this, so he asked me to be here as well to lessen your anxiety," Erik explained, walking over to where Charles and I were.

"Now Claudia, I want you to focus very carefully. Use your emotions to try and block me out," Charles instructed. "I want to see how quickly you can raise your mental shield on command,"

My expression was tinged with worry, "And what if it goes wrong?" I asked, looking between the two men.

"It won't," Charles comforted me.

I took a deep breath, my brows knitting together, "Fine," I sighed, closing my eyes I began to slowly lower my mental shield letting my mind be filled with the raw sensations and feelings coming from everyone in the mansion. Reopening my eyes I faced Charles. "Ready?" I asked nervously, starting to play with my hands.

He nodded, "On my count okay?" Charles asked, and I exhaled loudly while nodding my head as well. "Three...Two...One..." he counted, before he lifted two fingers to his temple as I raised my mental shield.

My eyes fluttered closed as I summoned all of the anger and fear that was coursing through me to block Charles from my mind. A sharp pain ripped through my head and a gasp escaped from my lips as I opened my eyes. The room started to spin and slow down, and the next thing I know, it's gone black. When I wake up, I am lying on soft grass. Grass? I sit up, rubbing my head. Looking around I see Charles and Erik do the same. What happened? Where are we?

"Claudia!"

I turned around and saw a caucasian teenage boy with brown hair gelled to the side and horn-rimmed glasses walking towards me. He looked about seventeen. I gasped as I realized who it is.

"James?" I asked the boy, bewildered.

But he doesn't stop, he runs right through me, as if I wasn't even there. Standing up, I looked around. Everything's slightly misty and fuzzy, and it takes me a while to realize where we are. We're in the meadow I used to play in as a child. I watch as my childhood friend, James, ran towards a teenage girl with medium length, black hair.

"Who is that?" Erik asked, arching a brow.

"It's me," I whispered, as a lone tear slipped down my face as I recalled happier times.

James was the first person outside of my family I ever told about my mutation. We became very close friends. I always felt my mother and father thought I was a freak even though they said that I wasn't. Still, I isolated myself, spending hours in this very meadow, lying in the daisies next to the river. I watched as James and my younger self laugh about something hysterically, and a small laugh escaped my mouth.

"This is most peculiar..." Charles muttered.

Erik and Charles moved closer to me, unsure of what is going on. I smiled at my younger self's happiness. What I'd give to be like that again.

James rolled over to his side, and wrapped one arm around my younger self's waist and leaned down, kissing her. His kisses were always soft and comforting. James rolled over to lay on his back and said something that caused them both to laugh. Suddenly, five teenage boys appear in the meadow.

I recognize them immediately, and my mouth fell open in horror as I realized what I'm about to witness. Again.

"No..." I whispered, almost breathlessly. "No!" I screamed, much louder, and Charles grabbed my hand.

The leader of the teenage boys, stalking towards them and they both stand up as James pushed my younger self behind him. Within a blink of an eye, the leader of the group landed a vicious punch on James' face and he fell to the ground, his nose bleeding. The three teenage boys yanked her from her spot as the other pair of teenage boys grabbed the struggling James and pinned him against the tree on the river bank. While my younger self was having a heated debate with the teenage boys.

Although I couldn't hear it. I knew exactly what they're saying. The four boys had heard that James and I were dating, and they had to teach this "negro lover" a lesson. They wanted to get rid of him and I knew, I was next. I don't have time to close my eyes as the knife is thrust into James' stomach. I heard a blood-curdling scream coming from the seventeen-year-old me. I could feel Charles recoil in horror and out of the corner of my eye I saw Erik had the same reaction. I watched, all over again, as James' body slumped lifelessly to the ground and the boys turn on me. Knowing what happens next.

A hand grabbed her shoulder and roughly threw her onto her back so that she was staring upwards into the faces of the three boys that were her age. One of them crouched over her, the one with those dead blue eyes, only now they were laughing in a way that made her scalp prickle with dread. The ringleader grabbed her by the arm and tugged her roughly off the ground.

"You know what, maybe our buddy James was onto something. She's pretty easy on the eyes for a negro," he rasped, an evil smirk forming on his lips as he tightened his grip around her arms.

And then before she knew it, he had grabbed her face in one of his meaty hands, and forced her mouth to his.

"Get off! Get off, get off, get off!" her thoughts screamed.

She tried to pull back with a mixture of shock and utter revulsion, but his friends were all around her, hands seizing her coat and hair, eager voices egging him on, laughing and leering as she struggled to break free. No one had been this close, without her permission. No one. And no one had the right to ever be this close, to ever touch her as he was doing now. His hand was on her waist and traveling even lower, and all she wanted was for him to stop it, stop it right now. She wriggled, clawed frantically, bucking and juddering against iron-clad hands like a rabbit caught in a snare, but he only mashed his face further into hers.

And suddenly there was so much rage contained inside her head, so much pure anger and hatred seething within her skull, that she felt that she might burst. Heat raced through her blood, a fire that she never felt before, that she hadn't allowed herself to feel in the pretense of being normal. But now this monster had crossed a line, was touching her in ways that left her feeling exposed and violated, like her skin had been torn away from her very soul to be gawked at. Murdering the boy she loved because he had the audacity to not care about her skin color and wanted to date her.

So perhaps this once she was at liberties to cross her very own line.

All she could see was red, as she pulled back furiously, lashing out in any way possible much to the amusement of my audience. Her skin grew warm, then hot, then boiling, thrumming with energy, the hairs along her arms rippling from the magnitude of it, far stronger than she could have possibly comprehended. Seventeen-year-old Claudia, in an enraged frenzy, outstretched her palm and a jolt of crackling purple energy roared from it, the distant ring of screaming in her ears, a warm tingle that played over her skin as the remaining energy fizzled and dissolved, melting back into the nothingness from which it had erupted.

Then...silence.

When the filter of red was lifted from her eyes and she dazedly took in her surroundings. One of the boys was at the base of a the tree, he wasn't moving and his neck looked deformed, the other boy was knocked into the river unconscious. Their ringleader's face was puffy and blistered, having borne the brunt of the attack, pus oozing from the more severe of the burns. She turned her head to see a deputy sprinting towards her, yelling for me to run. It was James' older brother John. By this point, John had reached her and she had a horrified expression on her face, matching the other teenage boy's as John tried pulling her away.

"Not only is she a negro, she's a freak!" One of the two remaining boys hurled the insult toward her.

She snapped back and yelled something at them and instantly one boy turned toward the river. Then, with no explanation, lowered his head into water and he drowned himself. The boy that murdered James took the knife that he was holding and slid it across his throat, silting his throat from ear to ear and a crimson liquid spilled from his throat, before he dropped to the ground.

She grabbed John by the chin and began to speak to him in a hurried tone, as if he had fallen into a daze, he gave a sluggish nod, and then slowly walked back towards his car to call in the crime scene.

My stomach churned and my heart pounded fiercely against my chest just as the image shifted and I let out a shaky breath, gasping for air. The memory had always haunted me, but I never thought I would have to witness James' murder again. As our surroundings change into a busy street. I had tears in my eyes, and I furiously wiped them away as new ones came trickling down my cheek. I turned and saw that Charles and Erik were staring at me. Charles' eyes were glazed as if he wanted to cry and Erik just looking at me with something like pity.

"What's happening?" I yelled at Charles.

"I must have pushed into your mind, your empathy mutation is allowing us to see your memories," he speculated.

Slowly, I spun around taking in our new surroundings, it was growing close to springtime and the streets of Washington D.C. were chalk full of busy people, rushing to get to somewhere they needed to be. Men and women hurried from work to get home, the elderly fed pigeons, and kids ran off out of their schools. It seemed like everyone had somewhere to go.

I let out jagged breaths as I shook my head now remembering why this day was a significant memory for me. A large hand laid down on my shoulder and I whipped around to see Erik standing next to me, looking mildly concerned.

"I'm fine," I stated automatically, pushing my hair out of my face with a shaky hand.

Erik looked unconvinced, but unsure of what exactly to do. He opened his mouth to say something else, but was interrupted when I gave out another gasp. I stepped closer to the wide window in front of us and peered in.

There was a young woman sitting at a table, absentmindedly running her finger along the rough wood of the tabletop next to her novel. She had lived there for almost two years and frankly was growing rather restless. It had been about a month, or maybe two since her boyfriend broke up with her because she was a mutant. She looked out the window that she was seated next to, watching as people walked by enjoying the company of others.

That was until she felt like she was being watched, her head snapped from the window and landed on a tall, tawny brown skin man. His dark brown eyes watching her curiously behind his round frames. His crisp white shirt stood out against the dim lit bar along with his smart grey slacks. Slowly, the man approached her and slid into the empty seat across from her, now she could fully see how handsome this stranger was. It was clear that the man was fit, you could the outline of his muscles underneath his shirt.

"Hello. Are you Claudia Walker?" she nodded slowly, and the man watched as her eyes became guarded.

The open book lay forgotten next to her.

"Who wants to know?" Claudia asked back, and the man smiled despite her rude and blunt attitude.

"My name is Professor Harry Lewis, I teach at Howard, and Miss Walker I believed you are a very gifted young woman," he complimented, flashing her with another smile.

She wanted to tell him that what she has wasn't a gift. It was a curse. But she didn't.

"Um, thank you Professor, but I-uh I promise that I'm not that gifted. My academics are great, but it's not better some of the students at the university," she pointed out.

"You think I'm talking about your academic performance Miss Walker? Oh, no, no, I'm talking what really makes you special, my dear,"

"I don't know what you're talking about," she stated, feigning a perplexed expression which was also expressed in her tone of voice.

Professor Lewis reached across the table and gently grasped her hand, his cold hands caressed her heated skin.

"I really do know what you are, Claudia Walker. I am here to help you, not hurt you,"

She jumped, it was Professor Lewis' voice, but in her mind? Maybe it wasn't, maybe she was going crazy.

"I can assure you, your sanity isn't to be questioned,"

There it was, again.

"Whatever you want. I want no part in it. I just want to live a normal life!" She whispered harshly, and went to stand up.

Professor Lewis gently tugged her back down with his hand, "Listen, let me explain first," he said, and Claudia slowly sat back down as he let go her hand. Professor Lewis slid from his seat across from Claudia and sat next to her. "Thank you," he sighed, turning his body to face her. "I didn't mean to intrude, but I heard your thoughts a few days ago about not having enough money to finish college, and I thought I could be of assistance,"

"How?"

"I'm running a lab for people like us, all you have to do is participate in some tests and then poof, your financial aid problems are gone," he explained, a charming smile appearing on his full lips, where a tiny gap between his front teeth could be seen. "And who knows, maybe I can teach you how to control your abilities better," he added, with a shrug. "I am a professor, after all," he joked, maintaining his smile.

And now he had her intrigued – what if there was a way? What if she could manage some semblance of control over this? What if some day she could look into someone's eyes without the fear of experiencing pain and rage and despair and love and roiling, frothing emotion trying to burn her alive?

"Sign me up," she answered quickly.

Professor Lewis clapped his hands together, a smile on his face, "Wonderful!" he cheered happily. "Now tell me about your powers Claudia," he stated.

"Well with my empathy, I guess I entrance people if I focus hard enough," she answered unsurely. "And there are times when my emotions affects everybody I'm in the room with," she explained.

"Wow," Professor Lewis commented, almost like he was very eager to please her. "So, you can control people?" he questioned curiously.

She bit her lip, "I've always hated that word when it comes to describing my ability," she said, letting out a nervous chuckle and turning away.

Professor Lewis grabbed gently by her chin with one of his cold hands. A shudder went through her and heat flushed in her cheeks.

"Embrace it Claudia, because you have the power to influence the world around you," he encouraged, before releasing her chin. After another deep look into her eyes he took her hand and raised it to his lips. "My dear, you and I are going to accomplish great things together," he whispered and his lips softly touched her knuckles, which caused her cheeks heat up even more. He rose elegantly to his feet and with a last look at her he turned around and started to walk away, leaving her confused.

My ankles wobbled to the side as I stumbled back a few steps from the diner window. I would have fell to the ground had it not been for two pair of arms steadying me onto my feet.

"Claudia, who is he?" Erik asked softly, and I looked up at him with effort.

"A horrible mistake,"

Chapter Fourteen: A Never-Ending Nightmare

[sledgefuweek]

Each year we take a close look at the prompts for Sledgefu Week, for those who may be stuck for ideas or not quite sure about what the prompts could entail. Below the readmore are all seven prompts, as well as a short write-up exploring what they mean and some ideas to help get the creative juices going. Enjoy!!

Sickfic

This is a really popular and well-known fanfic trope that I feel probably needs little explanation, but I’ll write a little bit about it anyway! It essentially covers fic where one character is ill and the other cares for them -- it could encompass any kind of illness at all, (including chronic illnesses) and there’s a lot of room to get creative with it. You can go for angst, hurt/comfort, or fluff: it’s just a really good general prompt that I think works nicely to kick the week off!

It suits for Sledgefu pretty well, considering Snafu’s canon mild hypochondria, as well as the fact that Eugene’s dad is a doctor. It could be fun to lean into it: make Eugene play doctor for an actually-sick Snafu, and it could be just as fun to subvert it! There’s really endless options for canon fic: shrapnel wounds turned bad, heat-sickness, seasickness, illness from bad food or bad water or any kind of tropical disease you can think of (malaria is a big one!). You could make one of them (or both) a medic; you could genderswap them and write the gay field nurse fic this fandom sorely needs. And of course if you choose to branch out into modern AU you can begin to think of what might afflict them outside of a war setting: has Eugene been working too much and come down with a cold? Are they hungover, and need mutual care (and lots of takeout)? A lot of the time sickfic focuses on one character doing the comforting and the other character feeling unwell, but there’s nothing to say they can’t both be feeling shitty! I think we say this every year but there’s really no rules at all, you do whatever you feel inspired to do. With Sickfic, just be mindful to tag anything that others might be affected by eg. vomiting, blood, needles, etc.

Tarot

I feel like Tarot is pretty well-known to the Sledgefu fandom, or at least to those who like to write Snafu or his family a little witchy. In case you just have a vague idea of what Tarot actually is and what its purpose or origins are, I’ll explain it as concisely as I can! Tarot decks started life in Europe as playing cards, but eventually began to be used for divination. It’s made up of four suits, or the Minor Arcana, (Wands, Cups, Swords, and Pentacles) as well as a twenty-two card Major Arcana (the imagery of which you’re probably very familiar with). Commonly, tarot decks and tarot reading is used as a means of communicating with the higher self, deities, or with the universe. They can be used as a way to see the future, answer questions, or to give/receive advice. There are different ways of reading them too, depending on how one lays out the cards: I don’t want to make this too wordy, but if you’re curious I encourage you to check out this site to learn more!

For writers, there’s a lot of places this prompt could take you! Probably the most obvious will be fortune teller fic; a classic. Lean into Snafu’s Louisiana roots and have him telling fortunes in the depths of the French Quarter, or go against the grain and have Eugene reading cards and palms and tea leaves as a practice passed down through his family. Or maybe more casual: modern AU Sledgefu flirting through amateur tarot readings with a deck picked up from a junk shop. If you read Tarot and have a connection to it, you can express that through writing! It’s a pretty open-ended prompt, especially if you consider some of the meanings of the cards; you could even write a story inspired by that! The Hermit: Snafu withdrawing, leaving Eugene on the train to spend the next few months in solitude, working through things. The Moon: Snafu and Eugene hitting a rough patch, hiding things from each other. The opportunities really become endless once you start taking the readings of the cards into account! And for visual artists, this must be such a fun prompt: I feel like it’s so a visually rich, whether you’re re-drawing the cards to encompass Snafu and Eugene within them, or making a collage based around some of the things mentioned above: fortune tellers shops, witches cottages, etc.

Trinket

Every Sledgefu Week we tend to have a couple prompts that are a little more open to interpretation, and this year’s ‘Trinket’ is one of those. It might be difficult to try and think of something to base a whole fic or piece of art around, but we really encourage you to let your imagination run wild! There’s already some great trinkets in the show itself: Eugene’s ring, the lighter that Gunny Haney gave him, Snafu’s stolen gold teeth, or their dog tags. Think of small, special objects that you might have: what imbues them with comfort or meaning? What makes you love them? You could have Eugene giving Snafu his ring, or have Eugene musing over war and death and loss while smoking a cigarette lit by his lighter. If you’re into Modern AUs, how could these objects carry through to modern day? Once you start thinking about it, the ideas start rolling in. Feel free to invent special trinkets for them: or maybe trinkets that they hate and want to get rid of, trinkets that remind them of bad times. Trinkets that remind them of each other, or family, or war. So much meaning can be held in the things we own, and I think it’s such a lovely concept to explore!

Crossover

So this prompt was born from the sheer number of suggestions we had for various movie, TV, and book AUs. We didn’t want to put them all to the poll and risk a lot of you feeling disappointed over the one you wanted not being selected, so thought it’d work best to condense them into a ‘Crossover’ prompt so everyone could do whatever they liked. So this is a very very broad one! It would be impossible for me to really go through the prompt and highlight some things that you could do for it, because you can really do anything you want to! Anything! It encompasses movies, video games, TV, books, musicals... if something tells a story, you can do a crossover. So if there’s ever been a film/book/etc. AU you wanted to do for Sledgefu Week but couldn’t quite get it to match the prompts, now is the time!

Vacation

A pretty self explanatory prompt, and one that I think can appeal to people who prefer canonverse and those who like modern AU too! Do you want to send Snafu and Eugene on the holiday of their dreams, or are they gonna be bickering in a gas station over who gets control of the map? Is Snafu gonna drive across a couple states to surprise Eugene by visiting? Is Eugene gonna do the same? There’s a lot of scenarios you can apply to the backdrop of them vacationing, and a lot of emotional journeys you can take them through! And for the canonverse crowd, you have the extra addition of letting them go have fun on an R&R, or taking a road trip post-war, visiting 1950s Paris... you can really do whatever you like!

Historical

This was another prompt like ‘Crossover’ that came from a lot of various suggestions that all boiled down to a similar thing: different historical events or periods. So like Crossover, I won’t linger too long on it (this post is long enough already) except just to say again: do whatever you’re inspired to do! There’s no rules here, you could even take everyone out of the Pacific and put them over in Germany: give them a different experience of war. In fact, you can do that with any war if you wanted to! Wanna do a M*A*S*H AU but made something else for Crossover? You could do it here! Want to put them in the 1920s? You got it. In the 1850s? Yeehaw, they’re cowboys now. 1969, Summer of Love? 1600s, make Snafu a prince? Literally the world is your oyster!

Horror

Past Sledgefu Week prompts have included things that could come under the horror umbrella (Supernatural, for example) but didn’t necessarily have to be made 'horrific’. For the ‘Horror’ prompt this year, we want to see frightening! Disquieting, uncomfortable; creations that either cross over with existing horror franchises, or lean on horrific things you come up with yourself. Horror movies, or TV shows, or books or podcasts or pieces of art all seek to elicit a sense of fear: this can be done by tapping into common phobias, or nightmares, those things which are universally and almost instinctively scary. We want to see things which lean into that, in whatever way you want to do it! 

I’m no horror media expert (not by a long shot) but the opportunities for this prompt are really vast simply because horror has so many subgenres to work with. You could go gothic horror; Dracula, Frankenstein, Wuthering Heights (a personal favourite AU -- Eugene soaked out on the moors, searching for Heathcliff-Snafu? Divine). Or you could go to the opposite end of the spectrum: Jennifer’s Body AU, Final Girl AU -- there’s no set way to do horror, in fact you could even bring horror into canonverse if you don’t like AUs. Think the Terror: some unknown beast lurking beyond the borders of their camp on Pavuvu, or Okinawa. Or you could even take the prompt entirely literally and explore the horrors of war and the toll it takes on them both. Please don’t feel stuck into needing to do Scary: horror is about fear and revulsion and dread, and these feelings don’t necessarily need to come from a haunting! (This is also a prompt ripe for monsterfucking, just FYI).

                                                - - - - - - - - - -

So that’s the prompts for this year! They’re all really really great, and have a lot of potential to make some fantastic stuff :~) And to reiterate something I said right at the start, there are no rules here! I think every year we normally get at least one person unsure whether their idea will be okay for the prompt they’d like to make it for, so I just wanna say here: don’t second-guess yourself! As long as it can be linked back to the prompt in some way or another (can literally be the vaguest way possible) you’ll be absolutely fine. We don’t vet submissions at all, especially not for their content relating to the prompts. All we ask is that you remember to stay respectful in what you’re writing, and when the time comes to post it, you tag and warn appropriately :~)

On the subject of writing respectfully, we’d like to just take a moment to link the document on mindful writing re: race and gender that was made last year. Please take a look at it, even if you read it last year! It’s always good to keep these things at the front of your mind, as fandom is a community sport and we want to keep it fun and safe for everyone involved! So thank you if you’ve made it this far through this whole post, check out the doc, and enjoy the rest of the run-up to Sledgefu Week!

[astro-break]

I don’t see it being talked about here, so I get to ramble about Crazy:B and Honeycomb Summer so buckle in, its going to be a ride

Quick disclaimer. This is the first time I’m doing something like that and I am simply coming from this as a fan and not as a professional. Some of the things I say might be wrong. And thats okay, I invite you to DM/Ask me questions, correct me, and even have a discussion with me. I’m very willing to learn from things I’ve done wrong and I’d love to hear everyone’s thoughts on this as well. The main purpose of this post will be to analyze Crazy:B’s growth through MVs with really low quality screenshots as my evidence/to make your reading experience more tolerable. I’ll also be speculating as to what might come going forward for the unit so if that interests you skip to the smiling Nikki screenshot near the end. So with that out of the way, have a smiling HiMERU and Nikki, get some water, and lets start.

So one thing ive always noticed with the previous Crazy:B MVs is the distance each member has with each other. This is most prevalent in Crazy Roulette, as the only real contact anyone has with each other is HiMERU and Rinne in that one “Bet. Omae wa dou da” part. In formation transitions, the space they give each other is pretty wide which in itself isn’t that big of a deal but it’s more common to have quick and snappy transitions with minimal spacing in a faster paced song such as Crazy Roulette. This especially holds true in the chorus but Crazy:B seems to be going for a more “Rile up the crowd” approach to both keep up their image as a party unit and allow their members more time to transition into the next formation

Even in shots where usually you’d expect the to be back to back with each other, they have a large gap between them as if there’s supposed to be a third member filling that space. (Note that Kohaku seems to be guilty of this the most. I think that this just speaks more to Kohaku’s impression of idols at this point in the story and the reason why he even entered the idol world in the first place.)

Even in the one scene of physical contact, HiMERU looks almost sad, wistful even, before putting on a stage smile. In HiMERU’s solo section, his face if very much melancholic and maybe even a little bit regretful. One can play it off as his lyrics have quite the somber tone as it is a lull to help increase the hype when the chorus comes around again, but wistful seems a bit odd when talking about having resolve and taking into account the general party like atmosphere of the song. Keep it in mind because it’s a reoccurring happenstance throughout these three MVs

The distance between the members is especially interesting as Crazy:B’s image is that of a wild and well, party like fun unit where the audience can just loose themselves in the adrenaline and hype. Their songs have a very rave kind of feel, the type that would get you on your feet and hopping around with your friends, so why would a unit like with such a party like vibe that keep there distance? Perhaps its because they are a newly formed unit so their approach of “Interact with the crowd” is better for them as it allows them to take more breaks, alleviate a lot of the pressure of dancing on stage, and it builds a loyal fanbase through constant fan interaction. Though it’s still very obvious from this one MV that Crazy:B is a unit made out of convenience and they’re not having any true fun while up on stage. Their smiles appear forced and it’s like they’re simply moving in accordance with the choreo. The only one who remotely looks like they’re having fun is Rinne, who lets himself go wild. We’ll see more of that in Be the Party Bee

Overall, Crazy Roulette sets up what Crazy:B is at the start of the main story. You can see that they are very individualistic and probably aren’t doing this for fun, simply out of obligation with the only exception being Rinnie. Despite being more polished and more technically impressive, they lack the unity that Alkaloid has. It’s a very good base for Crazy:B to grow from, and they definitely improve throughout the next two MVs

Okay now that we’re finally done with analyzing Crazy Roulette, have a picture of Kohaku smiling. Go drink your water and maybe stretch a bit before we move on 

Be the Party Bee starts off with a weird formation with very little symmetry but then again its Crazy:B, thats pretty on brand. It’s important to note here that the distance between everyone is noticeably lessened, there’s more physical contact between members, and the group seems all the more relaxed. The MV came out around the time the final main story chapter was released (If I’m wrong about this please correct me) so it’s around the end of Crazy:B’s unit arc. It makes sense for them to be pretty comfortable with each other at this point with all the shenanigans they went through.

Rinne especially goes off in this Live with very exaggerated motions. He’s all over the stage, kicking cheering and being very Rinne. You see some of this in Crazy Roulette but its in Be the Party Bee that his off the wall enthusiasm is on full display. He’s a beacon, drawing everyone’s attention to himself but he also passes off the baton to everyone else, giving each member the attention with his crazy antics. Its subtle but also really embarrassing on the recipients’ side, but its there none the less. It’s pretty interesting change from his more self-centered character that was showcased in the main story (Side note, I haven’t read the mains story. At all. If this is wrong please tell me). This side of him comes into play in Honeycomb Summer as well.

There’s still some tension in the group though with them still not feeling super at ease with each other. Distance is still present, and though it is much less than what it was in Crazy Roulette, you still have a sense that these members still aren’t all that comfortable with each other yet. You can see this in shots where the group is required to get into each other’s personal space. But at this point, they have a on stage dynamic that resembles a well thought out shuffle group that meshes well together.

Speaking of shuffle groups, it’s interesting to see how Nikki acts during Date Plan A to Z (The whole MV is interesting in of itself but I won’t speak too much about that. If anyone wants me to make a post on it tho i won’t be opposed) His movements in that MV suggest that he is very much used to someone invading his personal space in the middle of a Live coughcoughRinnecoughcough (Note how he leans back from Natsume as if he’s anticipating him to come closer) and thus acts pretty reserved from the other members of AtoZ. But you also get a very real and genuine smile from him which also implies that up till this point, idol work was an obligation and he didn’t find much joy in the people he worked with but with this new shuffle group, he’s found that being an idol can be genuinely fun. Perhaps its because he was working with Rinne this whole time, working with a whole new group of people, none of which are Rinne, is a new experience for him and he finds himself genuinely enjoying being an idol. Seeing as AtoZ happens after the main story, I hope that we see how being in a shuffle group affects how Nikki interacts with his unitmates in the Heat Haze

One last thing to note about Be the Party Bee is actually HiMERU. His movements during both Crazy Roulette and Party Bee are noticeably more restrained than the other members. It’s more glaring in Party Bee as the unit works more as a team than as individuals. The most obvious section of this happening is during a tradition space where the team breaks off into two groups and fool around for a bit to get into position. Nikki and Kohaku pull this off spectacularly and their little pokes at each other seem fun, high energy, and playful. HiMERU on the other hand, focuses solely on getting into position, barely doing anything to Rinne’s attempts to provoke him into the same playful energy. There are other parts where we get an idea that HiMERU is holding himself back, but this is the most noticeable one. My speculation (hah) is that it also ties into why he looks so melancholic in Crazy Roulette, but we’ll never know what happens in canon until HappyEle gives us some lore crumbs

Overall, Be the Party Bee showcases how Crazy:B is slowly learning to work with each other and mesh together into a cohesive unit. They’re still far from perfect and each member still goes off and does things on their own but overall they have a very different feeling from Crazy Roulette

So we’re halfway done, I’m still surprised that you’re here still reading spontaneous ramblings of someone who looks way too closely into MVs. Good job, go stretch, maybe rest your eyes for a while, drink some water, eat something, do whatever you need to take a small break before continuing. Here’s a smiling Rinne as motivation to rest a bit before we move on.

Now we talk about Honeycomb Summer. Honestly its probably one of my favourite ones just because it shows how much Crazy:B has grown as a unit and as characters. From the get go, you can immediately tell how relaxed everyone looks with giant grins on their face and very energetic movements. You really get the idea that they’re having genuine fun being up on stage. And that to me is the best thing any idol can do, is have fun on stage. Because if your performance is brimming with love and fun, your audience knows it and it makes everyone so much happier. And thats my favourite part of being an idol, to make someone’s day just a little bit better, to make them smile. To everyone them that the world isn’t as awful as you think it is.

The first 25 seconds is just them having fun, and though there is still distance between them, its the type of distance that the performers make for each other so that they’re free to play around, not the type of distance that is made because you are unfamiliar with someone. Everyone participates in this play, when previously it was either very choreographed or it was Rinne being Rinne. How do I know it’s not choreographed and its Crazy:B genuienly having fun? Look at the way each member moves. Each move, though uniform, is injected with personality. Nikki is free flowing, energetic, powerful, and bouncy. HiMERU is calm, measured and precise. Kohaku is wild yet still contained, hitting his moves with calculated power. And Rinne is, well he’s his normal off the wall, noodly, playful self.

One thing that has been pointed out a lot by the IG community is Rinne and Nikki’s dynamic. In Party Bee, Nikki was caught up in Rinne’s pace and was dragged along for the ride looking very visibly uncomfortable and put off. Obviously Rinnie invading Nikki’s personal space wasn’t in the choreo and Nikki, being someone who as of the writing of this post doesn’t seem to have that much experience as an idol and with ad-libbing things on the fly, doesn’t really know how to deal with it other than grimace and hope for the best. Honeycomb Summer provides us with a delightfully amusing face as Nikki’s reaction to Rinne’s repeated attempt to throw him off his game. This, my dear readers, is what we call “The neutral face of displeasure”. Is the face of a man who has let his friend get himself into yet another stupid situation and he’s the going to have to apologize on the behalf of his friend. Again. Nikki shows a “Here we go again” type of expression throughout Rinne’s actions, which is quite interesting given that his reaction during Party Bee was nervousness and surprise. Considering that he and Rinne have worked together before the formation of Crazy:B, I have to wonder if Rinne’s antics are a recent development thus Nikki’s surprise as Rinne must have pulled off similar tricks before.

We can clearly see Nikki’s growth and maybe desensitization with his antics when Rinne tries to elicit another reaction out of Nikki. Here, he ends up smiling a cute exasperated smile and its a nice moment where Nikki has grown close enough with Rinne that he can guess when he is going to pull off his ridiculous stunts. The reaction very well may be staged though with how much time was given to highlight such a face, 

What comes next is yet another showcase as to how far Crazy:B has come to trust each other and enjoy each other’s company. Before, it was only Rinne causing chaos, mostly to Nikki, yet in this segment Kohaku and Rinne team up to lovingly bully HiMERU and its the best. Its. its everything I’ve ever wanted and more. I have a full gallery of the group’s antics right here (since I can’t embed every picture into this post, it would get way too long, but i adore this moment) but I can’t even begin to express how great this is when it comes to showcasing Crazy:B’s current dynamic. At this point, the unit is close enough to each other that they feel at ease to fool around on stage. These clearly aren’t staged as they seem to follow the choreo yet there’s aspects that seem very organic such as HiMERU’s small jab at Kohaku with his admittedly very cute smile and Rinne barging in on the two’s play. This is further backed up by how awkward HiMERU and Kohaku’s choreographed movements are, as if the performance barged into their moment. Even HiMERU and Rinne’s exchange is very reminiscent of Rinne’s antics during Party Bee though HiMERU handles these provocations in vastly different ways from Nikki. These small moments are organic, fun, and a small window into what the current dynamic between the unit is like.

The chorus certainly doesn’t disappoint either with so many good story telling beats. Throughout the chorus its very evident that Crazy:B is still a unit of individualists, though these individualists have learned to work together to create a performance that they alone as one person could never hope to create. They each get a chance to sing a small solo but their movements tell a different story, one that meshes very well with the whole. Instead of riling up the crowd like they did in Crazy Roulette, the unit instead uses their dance to entice the audience, sticking to the center of the stage and preforming as a collective, very rarely moving to the wings. That transition from individual to collective is such a satisfying change, and it speaks to how Crazy:B has developed trust with one another, knowing that the unit is there to cover if they ever make any mistakes.

Arguably, the best thing about this MV is the sheer number of genuine smiles that are on their faces. I have around 30 screenshots of just their smiles, a portion which can be found here, and the rest I’m willing to share if anyone just asks damn it. The amount of precious and pure smiles in this performance is staggering that my measly 30 screenshots is a simple fraction of how many beautiful smiles there are. For the first time, you get the feeling that they’re having fun up on stage. It really reminds me of Knights and their own growth and how they came together as a unit as well. In terms of growth, Crazy:B has gone through probably the most alongside Valkyrie and their progression from an individualistic and fragmented group made out of duty and convenience to a family is such a joy to watch 

Here’s the curious thing through. HiMERU still keeps his distance away from anyone. Even in the group shot, he isn’t as close with anyone as everyone and shies away from Rinne’s attempts at invading his personal space. Notice how HiMERU is right beside Rinne in the first screenshot, but quickly moves forward very quickly even through its clear that Rinne is attempting a hug. Even in the second screenshot, as they invade Kohaku’s space, HiMERU still keeps his distance, simply poking his head in to follow with the choreography while Rinne and Nikki bounce towards Kohaku. (Though this is can also be explained as HiMERU respecting personal space, something Crazy:B isn’t all to fond of doing in general) Nonetheless, its clear that he is enjoying himself, and his movements are much more energetic and expressive compared to the previous performances, he’s still more conservative when compared to the other members.

One final observation I had was how down to earth Rinne could be at times. At some points, he seems lost in thoughts, acting like HiMERU at times. These are very few, only appearing twice if I’m not wrong, but they are followed with Rinne “harassing” his unit mates. This leads me to believe that there is something on his mind and his heart isn’t fully in the performance. I have no idea as to the reason why this may be the case, but I hope it’s addressed in the coming event. I’ll talk about about my own hypothesizes in the next segment though

Finally, we’re finished with Honeycomb Summer. I thoroughly enjoyed the MV and it was absolutely brimming with so many details that make me so excited for the coming event. The growth showcased in this one performance is phenomenal and awe inspiring. I’m really impressed by the people who modeled and programmed the MV, it’s no easy feat to create such subtle expressions and dynamic movements.

Okay, so we’re in the final stretch here. I’d like all of you to take a moment to listen to your body and attend to anything you need to do. Maybe stretch a bit, drink some water, talk with someone, take a small break. Nikki is cheering you on as we enter the final segment.

Alright so this final section will be my thoughts on what’s going to happen in the future. The main topic on the table will be: So what I am hoping to see in the new event? bc let’s be real, HappyEle likes to throw us curveballs, we won’t actually know what happens in these events until the come out

My first and most selfish wish is for Shuffle Units to be addressed and how being in AtoZ affected Nikki. Looking at both Honeycomb Summer and Date Plan A to Z, Nikki is genuinely happy in both instances. I’d love to see how being in AtoZ made him realize that how he can help change his own unit into an environment that he can genuinely have fun with.

On that note, something that would be really cool would be Crazy:B teasing Kohaku over his partnership with Mikejimaman and being a part of Double Face at the same time with Crazy:B. I’d also like to know how throwing GFK off the stage flew with the rest of the idol world, but we’re most likely not getting that haha.... Actions have consequences guys, I just want to see those consequences come into play.

Something else I’d love to see is Hiiro and Rinne, how their new dynamic has impacted them and the people around them, and how they themselves interact with each other on a daily basis. I’d like to think that Rinne’s odd behavior in the MV is because he’s hit a snag with Hiiro, but we won’t know until the event actually comes out

Finally, can we please have more HiMERU lore. For all the guessing I’m like to do and digging I do in accordance to my own experiences, seeing things that I remember and speculate both becoming canon and getting jossed from hell to back is something i eagerly look forward to. Please HappyEle give us the HiMERU crumbs. They probably won’t though, considering that we recently got a HiMERU feature scout and some lore there :p

And with that, we have reached the end of a very long post. I don’t blame you if rn your expression is like Kohaku or HiMERU, it was very long for the both of us. I think I’ve said all that I wanted to, so any closing thoughts would just be reiterations of what was already said earlier. All I have to say is, Thank you for sticking through this long post, please ask me any questions you might have, and I hope y’all have a good day.

Thanks~

[love-sapphirerose]

Yashahime: Princess Half-Demon Episode 16 Review

https://www.animenewsnetwork.com/review/yashahime-princess-half-demon/episode-16/.168486

I got a bad feeling about "Double-Edged Moroha" from the moment it started. You'd think, given that last week's episode randomly decided to break away from the story to have a flashback story time with Riku, that the show would take even a scant minute or two to establish things like context and pacing: Where the girls are. Why they are there. Some vague idea about how long it has been since that godforsaken misadventure with the Rapey Mountain Arsonist. You know, the simple stuff that helps the audience figure out what the hell is going on. But no, it doesn't even take a couple of seconds for Yashahime to start screwing up the most basic rules of “How to Tell a Coherent Story”, as we're plunged right into the middle of some anonymous mountain valley or something, with Moroha staring down Yawaragi, telling her cousins that there's some major beef going back three whole years that needs settling. If you don't recognize who this woman is, she's one of the Wolf Tribe members who has appeared exactly one time in the series before now, in a single frame from the very end of last-week's episode.

It honestly feels like something got supremely screwed up in the show's pre-production, and the Yashahime staff realized that they needed to cut an episode right out of the middle of the run, so they took the final scenes from the episode that led up to this climactic showdown between Moroha and Yawaragi, cut everything else that came before it, and slapped it on to the beginning of “Double-Edged Moroha”. Maybe that would explain the seemingly arbitrary placement of the Big Reveal episode from last week? The way it was written meant it could have been aired at almost any time and made an equal amount of sense (read: Not a whole lot), and the only information from “Farewell Under the Lunar Eclipse” that ties into “Double-Edged Moroha” at all is that Moroha ended up with Kouga and the wolves when her parents got sucked into the Black Pearl. If we hadn't gotten that single shot of Moroha being left to the wolves by Hachi, then “Double-Edged Moroha” would have come across as completely nonsensical. As it stands, it's now only 95% nonsense, which is technically an improvement. Good job, I guess?

If you couldn't tell, this was yet another episode of Yashahime that made me absolutely furious with how poorly written and executed it was, but in order to fully explain why, I'll need to cover the events of “Double-Edged Moroha” in chronological order, because the flashback-structure of the episode is stupid and pointless. We begin with the very last flashback, which shows us how Yawaragi attempted to train Moroha in the art of mastering her demonic transformations. We later learn that Kagome apparently placed a seal on these powers in some scene that we never got to actually see because the show was too busy failing at Towa and Setsuna's backstories, but Yawaragi decided to give Moroha the power to transform into Beniyasha with the rouge. Yawaragi then spends years yelling at Moroha for relying on the rouge too much and warning her about how too many transformations will result in her becoming a permanently bloodthirsty monster, so, uh, great call there, Yawaragi. Really thought that one through.

Anyways, one of the days Moroha goes berserk with her Beniyasha self and ends up calling down the wrath of a horde of

terribly-animated Birds of Paradise

before passing out. Instead of doing the logical thing and running away, Yawaragi just sort of stands there and decides they're screwed. That's when a weasel man (who is very helpfully named “Weasel Man”) wanders into frame from literally nowhere and offers to sell Yawaragi the Armor of the Iron Rat he's wearing, so that she can blow up the Birds of Paradise and whatnot. Not only is the completely random appearance of this obviously sketchy weasel not draw Yawaragi's suspicions at all, she also doesn't seem to find it odd that the guy can't even remove the armor himself without getting another person to unlock it with a key. Keep in mind that, for the entire duration of this stupid, stupid conversation, Yawaragi could have very easily just run away from all those birds and hid in a cave or something, but no, she casually takes the armor from the weasel, and wouldn't you know it, the darned thing is cursed to eventually crush its wearer to death unless they pay an exorbitant fee to the smithy rats for another key.

This is, to put it mildly, a very silly chain of events that do not paint Yawaragi in the smartest light, but we just have to roll with it, because that set of Iron-Rat Armor is precisely why Moroha has found herself sold into indentured servitude for the last three years. You see, Yawaragi decided that Moroha needed to complete the “crucible of Kodoku”, which has the eleven-year-old fighting a horde of demons in a spooky cave by herself to…get stronger, and master fighting without relying on Beniyasha, somehow? Yawaragi claims that Moroha needs to absorb the powers of the strongest demon in the cave, but she definitely did not do that, and we've never seen any of these so-called disastrous consequences of the Beniyasha transformation so far, which makes the entire venture basically pointless for our little heroine. For Yawaragi's part, the whole thing seems to have been an excuse to do some gambling with Jyubei, because she previously lost a bunch of ryou in the demon gambling house, which one apparently has to travel through in order to even get to the Crucible of Kodoku; also she needs, like, thirteen Ryou in order to buy a key for the armor that is going to eventually kill her. All of this leads to Jyubei offering to buy Moroha as his own little bounty-hunting slave, which Yawaragi accepts instantaneously, and there you have it: The ridiculous, contrived, and ultimately meaningless explanation for why Moroha has been trying to buy her way out of debt for three years.

Then, the second flashback, which is actually the most recent chronologically, shows us how it took Yawaragi three whole years to get to that damned hidden village of rats, only to discover that Konton arrived just beforehand and killed all of them. Whoopsie! We even get a nice shot of a dead rat mother cradling the corpse of her rat child – a weirdly dark moment that Yashahime certainly hasn't earned or anything – just to remind you that these Four Perils are super evil and powerful (despite the fact that they keep getting their asses kicked by a trio of teenagers who can barely be bothered to acknowledge their existence). Konton makes a deal with Yawaragi that he'll hand over the key if she kills Moroha and the others, and she accepts. “But!” Yashahime then asks, “Is she really going to betray her adopted daughter figure? Or is Yawaragi preparing Moroha for the final and most important lesson of her training?”

The answer is clearly supposed to be that second one, but Yashahime is just so goddamn bad at even the simplest character writing that the point doesn't land. Throughout all of these flashbacks, Moroha and Yawaragi have been dueling one-on-one, with Towa and Setsuna being told to sit uselessly on the sidelines, and Yawaragi keeps insisting that Moroha use her “creative imagination” to beat her, instead of relying on the rouge. This kind of falls flat when Moroha's victory just comes from her busting out a new special move, the Crimson Dragon Wave, which is neither a creative or imaginative resolution to the fight. Every Yashahime fight boils down to some combination of the girls' different special attacks, so why is this any different?

Way late in the episode, Konton suddenly teleports into the fight to gloat at Yawaragi. Nobody else really notices or acknowledges Konton's arrival, though you'd think this is the point where Towa and Setsuna would get off their butts and do something, because it isn't like Moroha's honor would be besmirched by kicking Konton's ass again. The show even forgets to include Konton in the next couple of shots of Yawaragi reacting to Moroha's attacks, even though it is absolutely critical that he be standing right behind her, because when Moroha unleashes the Crimson Dragon Wave, she whips behind Konton to hold him down in an act of self-sacrifice.

Here's the kicker, though: The guy can teleport. Yawaragi just saw him do this, and not thirty seconds earlier! So it shouldn't be surprising to anybody when Konton uses his Rainbow Pearl powers to teleport out of Yawaragi's arms and escapes anyways while the other girls throw some useless attacks at him. So, to recap: The audience learns that Yawaragi created the whole issue of Moroha's Beniyasha transformation in the first place, and she then spent years fruitlessly attempting to undo the problem, including purchasing a deadly set of cursed armor from a random weasel that was traipsing about the forest one day. All of this led to Moroha being sold to Jyubei, which was ultimately pointless because Yawaragi just ended up being coerced into attacking Moroha by Konton, and the one thing that might have made this entire cavalcade of terminally stupid decisions worthwhile – killing Konton – ended up being foiled by random Rainbow Pearl Powers. In other words, absolutely nothing of importance was learned, the girls are not one step closer to any of their goals, and Moroha inadvertently murdered Yawaragi for no reason. It is positively stunning when Yawaragi dies, and the show has the gall to play the moment off like some huge, emotional payoff…except Moroha is more or less fine by the time the credits roll.

Good Lord, this show is continuing to outdo itself in all of the worst ways. I won't damn it with the non-score of Episode 14, because “Double-Edged Moroha” at least has some halfway-decent looking action to try and distract you from how bad everything else is. I did, however, spend far too much time teaching myself how to use image-editing software so I could slap together this dumb meme that perfectly sums up my feelings about Yashahime at the moment. That said, it was probably more time and effort than anybody working on the show spent going over its sorry excuse of a script.