#I realize this is the 2020s fandom where all is black and white and characters are pure good or pure evil

[lightdancer1]

A certain type of Buffy fan:

"Tara Maclay never did anything wrong."

"Willow and Tara freeloaded off of Buffy in Season 6 and it was terrible of Willow to do that."

These two statements cannot both be true at the same time, Tara did at least two big things wrong to Buffy, specifically, and her lying to Willow for that entire first year had the major justification of her cult survivor trauma, while Willow being too forgiving about it is about Willow's emotional immaturity, not Tara herself.

But.....she specifically had a near-lethal magic misfire (and nobody, after continued searching, has ever done the 'Tara gets Monkey's Pawed in Family by Willow dying as a result of the Cadria spell' fic and that's got my fingers itchy for another short one) and she freeloaded off of Buffy just like Willow did...if you take that as what they did.

It's why I think some of the people who take empathy for her in ways that have only gone up in 20 years along with appreciation of her as the best of the Scoobies (which she 100% is regardless of what she did do wrong with her actual flaws anyway) to a point they substitute a character in their head for the far more interesting one Amber Benson actually played on TV.

[crowscacophony]

its freak-frackin 2017 boi ^-^

I need to write something but mouthwashing has me in a state of shock still I feel like curly’s barely conscious body bruh he’s literally me. (Not a spoiler this is literally revealed in the first five minutes I promise) I need some kohls brainrot but unlike Jimmy I CAN TAKE RESPONSIBILITY FOR MY ACTIONS fuck Jimmy all my homies hate Jimmy mouthwashing 

I was going to do some historical fangstitch but despite my favorite fanfic I’ve ever read being about wwii and fleeing nazism I cannot bring myself to actually write anything even though I have some really cool (I have to keep telling myself that it’s okay for things to be historically accurate even though the vocabulary used *specifically for Crow and his Romani heritage* would be entirely different and it’s better to be tasteful) ideas

So instead. We’re embracing the cringe.

WELCOME TO THE YEAR 2017 BITCHES

Mid to late 2010s fandom was an insane mess. No one knew how to act. No one was anywhere near normal. I was there. I remember it all too well. The era of flower crowns and cell shaded big eyes and Hamilton animatics. Good God it was like being on crack with a bunch of closeted queers 

And I keep seeing the “mouthwashing if it was released in 2016 posts” where people are drawing the characters in flower crowns and big sweaters and “smol beans” and “cinnamon rolls :3” and it’s like a bullet to the brain. And I LOVE it. Give me more.

So. The Dalseum Duet if it was released in 2017. Let’s fuckin pretend. 

The people of 2017 fandom would be cancelled left and right today and I’m going to revel in that for a minute.

An entire cast of characters of color is not really ideal. Because we saw what happened to Hamilton. Here are my predictions for the most cancellable race offenses:

People just cannot draw Sara. They can’t fathom that her skin is dark. They keep coloring her this weird ashy mid-toned color and squishing her face to make her look “cuter.” 

Marie gets whitewashed to high hell. She’s supposed to be cutesy and feminine and the people of 2017 could not fathom that she has darker skin than Crow

Same with Adam. He would 100% get “smol bean” woobified. Someone literally just does not realize that he’s black. Art of him but white (out of pure ignorance, not malice) is posted on a prominent artist’s tumblr and never mentioned until someone digs it back up in 2020

I would say something abt Noeul but people act even worse abt “”morally gray”” East Asian men in 2024 so  just go looking yourself if you’re desperate for people saying weird shit. Dw we get to him later

Multiple people come forward saying they didn’t know Cambodia was even a country before reading Heartstrings

still an issue but people just don’t know how to draw Asian features. they all look white for some reason. 

crow always has straight hair. for some reason.

Other related offenses 

Gale is always drawn either too skinny or something is evidently proportionally incorrect 

Where. Where are Crow’s mobility aids guys

The Charlie hate posts. “she’s so annoying omg she thinks everything revolves around her! terrible main character” when she’s just a woman trying to escape an unsafe situation 

People are just not normal about crow being trans (to be expected no matter what year tbh)

“my smol trans bb 🥺 my little bean protecc him *GUYS DID YOU CATCH THAT I SAID HIM!! HIM NOT SHE I’M AN ALLY* at all costs”

your smol bb just watched someone get decapitated and didn’t flinch but. okay

people exaggerate sonnet’s proportions so ridiculously. is this transphobic or are you just numb to the furry proportions of animation memes bc their hips cannot possibly be that large 

A LOOK AT THE FANDOM

So many theatre kids who can’t communicate to anyone effectively. So many. Think Percy Jackson of eras bygone meets the Heathers animatic era. 

The most viewed video is an animatic of Sara telling off Noeul after the trial set to “Congratulations” from Hamilton. 

And now. Just know that this hurts me to say bc this album is my guilty pleasure but not a pleasure bc it hurts me to listen to some of these songs. Sigh. 

Panic! at the Disco’s album “Death of a Bachelor” released in 2016, shifting the edgy fandom space forever. 

The Council fanart. The animatics. Were edits a thing at this time? Fuckin PMVs? Idk. BUT GOOD GOD. EVERY SINGLE SONG ON THAT ALBUM. THERE WILL BE 100 COUNCIL ANIMATICS AT THE LEAST FOR EACH ONE. ALL IN THE SAME EXACT ARTSTYLE YOU KNOW THE ONE

THE FANART EDITS. GOD. NOEUL WITH HIS EYES BLACKED OUT WITH A BAR WITH LIKE “Fifty words for murder and I’m every single one of them” WRITTEN ACROSS IT HAHAHAHAAAAA his touch is black and poisonous guys. eyes like broken Christmas lights fr

PEOPLE GET SO CORNY OVER THIS MAN. SO CORNY. LIKE. HE MIGHT AS WELL BE TORD. THAT IS THE EXACT TREATMENT HE GETS

oh yeah and Jason Dean too. the comparisons of costco to JD and Veronica. dead girl walking animatics galore 

people made JD’s entire personality slushies even though he committed so many crimes. Noeul’s personality is reduced to bulgogi but no one can pronounce it so it just keeps getting worse

people woobify the fuck out of Sonnet. drawing them in big sweaters and flower crowns and sh scars on comically “thicccc” thighs bc they were “suicidal 🥺” (because they were “depwessed” not bc their marriage was fucking loveless and they no longer recognize who they are) and they have pretty pink hair. they tried to murder an innocent woman folks

unironic sams club shippers. “they should have gotten back together after the end! they did!! here is my fanart of Adam (ace mlm who has been severely traumatized by sonnet’s actions) and Sonnet (body has been borderline botched by “gender affirming surgery” and just watched their husband get slaughtered by their daughter in front of their own eyes. cannot form a cohesive sentence due to addiction to a variety of substances) 

I’m. I’m going to bed but I will add on to this. Because I find it really funny. 

Anyway. Just throwing the image of smol bean-ified Kai in your brain. @svwhssftr Big eyelashes and big blue sweater. Shark plushie. His eyes are blue and suspiciously round. Why does he have visible tits guys this isn’t… He doesn’t even have a face anymore. Bitch is built like captain curly. He is a fucking menace with an undiagnosed personality disorder. But yeah. Yeah smol trans bean (white..?) Kai. Perfect. Exactly. Sorry for that attack of psychological warfare. Thank you 2017 for your service in fandom history

[reanimatedcourier]

How to Write Indigenous Characters Without Looking like a Jackass:

Update as of December 26th, 2020: I have added a couple new sections about naming and legal terms, as well as a bit of reading on the Cherokee Princess phenomenon.

Boozhoo (hello) Fallout fandom! I'm a card-carrying Anishinaabe delivering this rough guide about writing Indigenous characters because wow, do I see a lot of shit.

Let's get something out of the way first: Fallout's portrayal of Indigenous people is racist. From a vague definition of "tribal" to the claims of them being "savage" and "uncivilized" mirror real-world stereotypes used to dehumanize us. Fallout New Vegas' narrated intro has Ron Perlman saying Mr. House "rehabilitated" tribals to create New Vegas' Three Families. You know. Rehabilitate. As if we are animals. Top it off with an erasure of Indigenous people in the American Southwest and no real tribe names, and you've got some pretty shitty representation. The absence of Native American as a race option in the GECK isn't too great, given that two Native characters are marked "Caucasian" despite being brown. Butch Deloria is a pretty well-known example of this effect. (Addendum: Indigenous people can have any mix of dominant and recessive traits, as well as present different phenotypes. What bothers me is it doesn't accommodate us or mixed people, which is another post entirely.)

As a precautionary warning: this post and the sources linked will discuss racism and genocide. There will also be discussion of multiple kinds of abuse.

Now, your best approach will be to pick a nation or tribe and research them. However, what follows will be general references.

Terms that may come up in your research include Aboriginal/Native Canadian, American Indian/Native American, Inuit, Métis, and Mestizo. The latter two refer to cultural groups created after the discovery of the so-called New World. (Addendum made September 5th, 2020: Mestizo has negative connotations and originally meant "half breed" so stick with referring to your mixed Latine and Indigenous characters as mixed Indigenous or simply by the name of their people [Maya, Nahua].)

As a note, not every mixed person is Métis or Mestizo. If you are, say, Serbian and Anishinaabe, you would be mixed, but not Métis (the big M is important here, as it refers to a specific culture). Even the most liberal definition caps off at French and British ancestry alongside Indigenous (some say Scottish and English). Mestizo works the same, since it refers to descendants of Spanish conquistadors/settlers and Indigenous people.

Trouble figuring out whose land is where? No problem, check out this map.

Drawing

Don't draw us with red skin. It's offensive and stereotypical.

Tutorial for Native Skintones

Tutorial for Mixed Native Skintones

Why Many Natives Have Long Hair (this would technically fit better under another category, but give your Native men long hair!)

If You're Including Traditional Wear, Research! It's Out There

Languages

Remember, there are a variety of languages spoken by Indigenous people today. No two tribes will speak the same language, though there are some that are close and may have loan words from each other (Cree and Anishinaabemowin come to mind). Make sure your Diné (you may know them as Navajo) character doesn't start dropping Cree words.

Here's a Site With a Map and Voice Clips

Here's an Extensive List of Amerindian Languages

Keep in mind there are some sounds that have no direct English equivalents. But while we're at it, remember a lot of us speak English, French, Spanish, or Portuguese. The languages of the countries that colonized us.

Words in Amerindian languages tend to be longer than English ones and are in the format of prefix + verb + suffix to get concepts across. Gaawiin miskwaasinoon is a complete sentence in Anishinaabemowin, for example (it is not red).

Names

Surprisingly, we don't have names like Passing Dawn or Two-Bears-High-Fiving in real life. A lot of us have, for lack of better phrasing, white people names. We may have family traditions of passing a name down from generation to generation (I am the fourth person in my maternal line to have my middle name), but not everyone is going to do that. If you do opt for a name from a specific tribe, make sure you haven't chosen a last name from another tribe.

Baby name sites aren't reliable, because most of the names on there will be made up by people who aren't Indigenous. That site does list some notable exceptions and debunks misconceptions.

Here's a list of last names from the American census.

Indian Names

You may also hear "spirit names" because that's what they are for. You know the sort of mystical nature-related name getting slapped on an Indigenous character? Let's dive into that for a moment.

The concept of a spirit name seems to have gotten mistranslated at some point in time. It is the name Creator calls you throughout all your time both here and in the spirit world. These names are given (note the word usage) to you in a ceremony performed by an elder. This is not done lightly.

A lot of imitations of this end up sounding strange because they don't follow traditional guidelines. (I realize this has spread out of the original circle, but Fallout fans may recall other characters in Honest Hearts and mods that do this. They have really weird and racist results.)

If you're not Indigenous: don't try this. You will be wrong.

Legal Terms

Now, sometimes the legal term (or terms) for a tribe may not be what they refer to themselves as. A really great example of this would be the Oceti Sakowin and "Sioux". How did that happen, you might be wondering. Smoky Mountain News has an article about this word and others, including the history of these terms.

For the most accurate information, you are best off having your character refer to themselves by the name their nation uses outside of legislation. A band name would be pretty good for this (Oglala Lakota, for example). I personally refer to myself by my band.

Cowboys

And something the Fallout New Vegas fans might be interested in, cowboys! Here's a link to a post with several books about Black and Indigenous cowboys in the Wild West.

Representation: Stereotypes and Critical Thought

Now, you'll need to think critically about why you want to write your Indigenous character a certain way. Here is a comprehensive post about stereotypes versus nuance.

Familiarize yourself with tropes. The Magical Indian is a pretty prominent one, with lots of shaman-type characters in movies and television shows. This post touches on its sister tropes (The Magical Asian and The Magical Negro), but is primarily about the latter.

Say you want to write an Indigenous woman. Awesome! Characters I love to see. Just make sure you're aware of the stereotypes surrounding her and other Women of Color.

Word to the wise: do not make your Indigenous character an alcoholic. "What, so they can't even drink?" You might be asking. That is not what I'm saying. There is a pervasive stereotype about Drunk Indians, painting a reaction to trauma as an inherent genetic failing, as stated in this piece about Indigenous social worker Jessica Elm's research. The same goes for drugs. Ellen Deloria is an example of this stereotype.

Familiarize yourself with and avoid the Noble Savage trope. This was used to dehumanize us and paint us as "childlike" for the sake of a plot device. It unfortunately persists today.

Casinos are one of the few ways for tribes to make money so they can build homes and maintain roads. However, some are planning on diversifying into other business ventures.

There's a stereotype where we all live off government handouts. Buddy, some of these long-term boil water advisories have been in place for over twenty years. The funding allocated to us as a percentage is 0.39%: less than half a percent to fight the coronavirus. They don't give us money.

"But what about people claiming to be descended from a Cherokee princess?" Cherokee don't and never had anything resembling princesses. White southerners made that up prior to the Civil War. As the article mentions, they fancied themselves "defending their lands as the Indians did".

Also, don't make your Indigenous character a cannibal. Cannibalism is a serious taboo in a lot of our cultures, particularly northern ones.

Our lands are not cursed. We don't have a litany of curses to cast on white people in found footage films. Seriously. We have better things to be doing. Why on earth would our ancestors be haunting you when they could be with their families? Very egotistical assumption.

Indigenous Ties and Blood Quantum

Blood quantum is a colonial system that was initially designed to "breed out the Indian" in people. To dilute our bloodlines until we assimilated properly into white society. NPR has an article on it here.

However, this isn't how a vast majority of us define our identities. What makes us Indigenous is our connections (or reconnection) to our families, tribes, bands, clans, and communities.

Blood quantum has also historically been used to exclude Black Natives from tribal enrollment, given that it was first based on appearance. So, if you looked Black and not the image of "Indian" the white census taker had in his brain, you were excluded and so were your descendants.

Here are two tumblrs that talk about Black Indigenous issues and their perspectives. They also talk about Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people of Australia.

However, if you aren't Indigenous, don't bring up blood quantum. Don't. This is an issue you should not be speaking about.

Cherokee Princess Myth

"Princess" was not a real position in any tribe. The European idea of monarchy did not suddenly manifest somewhere else. The closest probable approximation may have been the daughter of a chief or other politically prominent person. But princess? No.

Here is an article talking about possible origins of this myth. Several things are of note here: women from other tribes may have bee shoved under this label and the idea of a "Cherokee Princess" had been brought up to explain the sudden appearance of a brown-skinned (read: half Black) family member.

For a somewhat more in depth discussion of why, specifically, this myth gets touted around so often, Timeline has this piece.

Religion

Our religions are closed. We are not going to tell you how we worship. Mostly because every little bit we choose to share gets appropriated. Smudging is the most recent example. If you aren't Indigenous, that's smoke cleansing. Smudging is done in a specific way with ceremonies and prayers.

Now, a lot of us were forcibly converted. Every residential school was run by Christians. So plenty of us are Catholic, Baptist, Anglican, Lutheran, etc. Catholicism in Latin America also has influence from the Indigenous religions in that region.

Having your Indigenous character pray or carry rosaries wouldn't be a bad thing, if that religion was important to them. Even if they are atheist, if they lived outside of a reserve or other Indigenous communities, they might have Christian influences due to its domination of the Western world.

Settler Colonialism and the White Savior Trope

Now we've come to our most painful section yet. Fallout unintentionally has an excellent agent of settler-colonialism, in particular the Western Christian European variety, in Caesar's Legion and Joshua Graham.

(Addendum: Honest Hearts is extremely offensive in its portrayal of Indigenous people, and egregiously shows a white man needing to "civilize" tribals and having to teach them basic skills. These skills include cooking, finding safe water, and defending themselves from other tribes.)

Before we dive in, here is a post explaining the concept of cultural Christianity, if you are unfamiliar with it.

We also need to familiarize ourselves with The White Man's Burden. While the poem was written regarding the American-Philippine war, it still captures the attitudes toward Indigenous folks all over the world at the time.

As this article in Teen Vogue points out, white people like to believe they need to save People of Color. You don't need to. People of Color can save themselves.

Now, cultural Christianity isn't alone on this side of the pond. Writer Teju Cole authored a piece on the White Savior Industrial Complex to describe mission trips undertaken by white missionaries to Africa to feed their egos.

Colonialism has always been about the acquisition of wealth. To share a quote from this paper about the ongoing genocide of Indigenous peoples: "Negatively, [settler colonialism] strives for the dissolution of native societies. Positively, it erects a new colonial society on the expropriated land base—as I put it, settler colonizers come to stay: invasion is a structure not an event. In its positive aspect, elimination is an organizing principal of settler-colonial society rather than a one-off (and superseded) occurrence. The positive outcomes of the logic of elimination can include officially encouraged miscegenation, the breaking-down of native title into alienable individual freeholds, native citizenship, child abduction, religious conversion, resocialization in total institutions such as missions or boarding schools, and a whole range of cognate biocultural assimilations. All these strategies, including frontier homicide, are characteristic of settler colonialism. Some of them are more controversial in genocide studies than others." (Positive, here, is referring to "benefits" for the colonizers. Indigenous people don't consider colonization beneficial.)

An example of a non-benefit, the Church Rock disaster had Diné children playing in radioactive water so the company involved could avoid bad publicity.

Moving on, don't sterilize your Indigenous people. Sterilization, particularly when it is done without consent, has long been used as a tool by the white system to prevent "undesirables" (read, People of Color and disabled people) from having children. Somehow, as of 2018, it wasn't officially considered a crime.

The goal of colonization was to eliminate us entirely. Millions died because of exposure to European diseases. Settlers used to and still do separate our children from us for reasons so small as having a dirty dish in the sink. You read that right, a single dirty dish in your kitchen sink was enough to get your children taken and adopted out to white families. This information was told to me by an Indigenous social work student whose name I will keep anonymous.

It wasn't until recently they made amendments to the Indian Act that wouldn't automatically render Indigenous women non-status if they married someone not Indigenous. It also took much too long for Indigenous families to take priority in child placement over white ones. Canada used to adopt Indigenous out to white American families. The source for that statement is further down, but adoption has been used as a tool to destroy cultures.

I am also begging you to cast aside whatever colonialist systems have told you about us. We are alive. People with a past, not people of the past, which was wonderfully said here by Frank Waln.

Topics to Avoid if You Aren't Indigenous

Child Separation. Just don't. We deserve to remain with our families and our communities. Let us stay together and be happy that way.

Assimilation schools. Do not bring up a tool for cultural genocide that has left lasting trauma in our communities.

W/ndigos. I don't care that they're in Fallout 76. They shouldn't be. Besides, you never get them right anyway.

Sk/nwalkers. Absolutely do not. Diné stories are not your playthings either.

I've already talked about drugs and alcohol. Do your research with compassion and empathy in mind. Indigenous people have a lot of pain and generational trauma. You will need to be extremely careful having your Indigenous characters use drugs and alcohol. If your character can be reduced to their (possible) substance abuse issues, you need to step back and rework it. As mentioned in Jessica Elm's research, remember that it isn't inherent to us.

For our final note: remember that we're complex, autonomous human beings. Don't use our deaths to further the stories of your white characters. Don't reduce us to some childlike thing that needs to be raised and civilized by white characters. We interact with society a little differently than you do, but we interact nonetheless.

Meegwetch (thank you) for reading! Remember to do your research and portray us well, but also back off when you are told by an Indigenous person.

This may be updated in the future, it depends on what information I come across or, if other Indigenous people are so inclined, what is added to this post.

[blackstarising]

coming back to this post i made again to elaborate - especially as the ted lasso fandom is discussing sam/rebecca and fandom racism in general. there are takes that are important to make that i had failed to previously, but there's also a growing amount of takes that i have to, As A Black Person™, respectfully disagree with.

tl;dr for the essay below sam being infantilized and the sam/rebecca relationship are not the same issue and discussing the former one doesn't mean excusing the latter. and we've reached the glen of the Dark Forest where we sit down and talk about fandom racism.

i should have elaborated this in my last post about sam/rebecca, but i didn't. i'll say it now - i personally don't support sam and rebecca getting together for real. i believe what people are saying is entirely correct, even though sam is an adult legally, he and rebecca are, at the very least, two wildly different stages of life. for americans, he's at the equivalent of being a junior in college. there are things he hasn't gotten the chance to experience and there are areas he needs to grow in. when i was younger, i didn't understand the significance of these age gaps, i just thought it would be fine if it was legal, but as someone who is now a little older than sam in universe, i understand fully. we can't downplay this. whether or not you think sam works for rebecca or not, even despite the gender inversion of the Older Man Younger Woman trope, whether or not he is a legal adult, i don't think at this point in time, their relationship would work. i think it's an interesting narrative device, but i don't want to see it play out in reality.

that being said!

what's worrying me is that two discussions are being conflated here that shouldn't be. sam having agency and being a little more grown™ than he's perceived to be does not suddenly make his relationship with rebecca justified. i had decided to bring it up because sam was being brought into the spotlight again and i was starting to realizing that his infantilization was more common than i felt comfortable with.

sam's infantilization (and i will continue to call it that), is a microaggression. it's is in the range of microaggressions that i would categorize as 'fandom overcompensation'. we have a prominent character of color that exhibits traits that aren't stereotypical, and we don't want to appear racist or stereotypical, so we lean hard in the other direction. they're not aggressive, they're a Sweet Baby, they're not world weary, they're now a little naive. they're not cold and distant, they're so nice and sweet that there's no one that wouldn't want approach them, and yeah, on their face, these new traits are a departure and, on their face, they seem they look really good.

but at a certain point, it reaches an inflection point, and, like the aftertaste of a diet coke, that alleged sweetness veers into something a lot less sweet. it veers into a lack of agency for the character. it veers into an innocence that appears to indicate that the person can't even take care of themselves. it veers into a one-dimensional characterization that doesn't allow for any depth or negative emotion.

it's not kind anymore. it's not a nice departure from negative stereotypes. it's not compensating for anything.

it's patronizing.

it is important that we emphasize that characters of color are more than the toxic stereotypes we lay on them, yes, but we make a mistake in thinking that the solution is overcorrection. for one thing, people of color can usually tell. don't get it twisted, it's actually pretty obvious. for another, it just shifts from one dimension to another. people of color are still supposed to be Only One Character Trait while white people can contain multitudes. ted, who is pretty much as pollyanna as they come, can be at once innocent and naive and deep and troubled and funny and scared. jamie can be a prick and sexy and also lonely and also a victim of abuse. sam, however, even though he was bullied (by jamie, no less), is thousands of miles away from home, and has led a protest on his team, is usually just characterized as human sunshine with much less acknowledgement of any other traits beyond that.

and that's why i cringe when fandom calls sam a Sweet Baby Boy without any sense of irony. is that all we're taking away? after all this time? even for a comedy, sam has received a substantive of screen time over two whole seasons, and we've seen a range of emotions from him. so as a black person it's hurtful that it's boiled down to Sweet Baby Boy.

that's the problem. we need to subvert stereotypes, but more importantly, we need to understand that people of color are not props, or pieces of cardboard for their white counterparts. they are full and actualized and have agency in their own right and they can have other emotions than Angry and Mean or Sweet and Bubbly without any nuance between the two. i think the show actually does a relatively good job of giving sam depth (relatively, always room for improvement, mind you), especially holding it in tension with his youth, but the fandom, i worry, does not.

it's the same reason why finn from star wars started out as the next male protagonist in the sequel trilogy but by the third movie was just running around yelling for REY!! it's the same reason why when people make Phase 4 Is the Phase For Therapy gifsets for the mcu and show wanda maximoff, loki, and bucky barnes crying and being sad but purposefully exclude sam wilson who had an entire show to tell us how difficult his life is, because people find out if pee oh sees are also complex, they'll tell the church.

and the reason why i picked up on this very early on is because i am an organic, certified fresh, 100% homegrown, non-gmo, a little ashy, indigenous sub saharan African black person. the ghanaian tribes i'm descended from have told me so, my black ass parents have told me so, and the nurses at the hospital in [insert asian country here] that started freaking out about how curly my hair was as my mother was mid pushing me out told me so!

and this stuff has real life implications. listen: being patronized as a black person sucks. do you know how many times i was patted on the back for doing quite honestly, the bare minimum in school? do you know how many times i was told how 'well spoken' or 'eloquent' i was because i just happen to have a white accent or use three syllable words? do you know how many times i've been cooed over by white women who couldn't get over how sweet i was just because i wasn't confrontational or rude like they wrongly expected me to be?

that's why they're called microaggressions. it's not a cross on your lawn or having the n-word spat in your face, but it cuts you down little by little until you're completely drained.

so that's the nuance. that's the subversion. the overcompensation is not a good thing. and people of color (and i suspect, even white people) have picked up on, in general, the different ways fandom treats sam and dani and even nate. what all of these discussions are converging on is fandom racism, which is not the diet form of racism, but another place for racism to reveal itself. and yeah, it's uncomfortable. it can seem out of left field. you may want to defend yourself. you may want to explain it away. but let me tap the sign on the proverbial bus:

if you are a white person, or a person of color who is not part of that racial group, even, you do not get to decide what is not racist for someone. full stop. there are no exceptions. there is no exit clause for you. there is no 'but, actually-'. that right wasn't even yours to cede or waive.

(it's also important to note that people of color also have the right to disagree on whether something is racist, but that doesn't necessarily negate the racism - it just means there's more to discuss and they can still leave with different interpretations)

people don't just whip out accusations of racism like a blue eyes white dragon in a yu-gi-oh duel. it's not fun for us. it's not something we like to do to muzzle people we don't want to engage with. and we're not concerned with making someone feel bad or ashamed. we're exposing something painful that we have to live with and, even worse, process literally everything we experience through. we can't turn it off. we can't be 'less sensitive' or 'less nitpicky'. we are literally the primary resources, we are the proverbial wikipedia articles with 3,000 sources when it comes to racism. who else would know more than us?

what 2020 has shown us very clearly is that racism is systemic. it's not always a bunch of Evil White Men rubbing their hands together in a dark room wondering how they're going to use the 'n-word' today. it's systemic. it's the way you call that one neighborhood 'sketchy'. it's how you use 'ratchet' and 'ghetto' when describing something bad. it's how you implicitly the assume the intelligence of your friend of color. it's the way you turned up your nose and your friend's food and bullied them for it in middle school but go to restaurants run by white people who have 'uplifted' it with inauthentic ingredients. it's telling someone how Well Spoken and Eloquent they are even though you've both gone to the same schools and work at the same workplace. it's the way you look down at some people of color for having a different body type than you because they've been redlined to neighborhoods where certain foods and resources are inaccessible, and yet mock up the racial features that appeal to you either through makeup or plastic surgery.

it's how when a person of color behaves badly, they're irredeemable, but a white person performing the same act or something similar is 'having a bad day' or 'isn't normally like this' or 'has room to grow' and we can't 'wait for their redemption arc', and yes, i'm not going to cover it in detail in this post but yes this is very much about nate. other people have also brought up the nuances in his arc and compared them to other white characters so i won't do it here.

these behaviors and reactions aren't planned. they aren't orchestrated. they're quite literally unconscious because they've been lovingly baked into western society for centuries. you can't wake up and be rid of it. whether you intended it or not, it can still be racist.

and it's actually quite hurtful and unfair to imply that concerns about racism in the TL fandom are unfounded or lacking any depth or simply meant to be sensational because you simply don't agree with it. i wish it was different, but it doesn't work that way. i'm not raising this up to 'call out' or shame people, but i'm adding to this discussion because, through how we talk about sam, and even dani and nate, i'm yet again seeing a pattern that has shortchanged people of color and made them feel unwelcome in fandom for far too long.

coach beard said it best: we need to do better.

[dutchforstrangers]

Snow in August - Happy (belated) Odaiba Day!

Also @digiweek Day 7 - Free Day Fieldtrip (I hate that I missed it and I really wanted to contribute at least something)

Lately, the entirety of Digimon isn't getting me excited the way it used to do. Even the new 02 movie's sneak peek didn't get me that hyped the way I saw others were and it made me incredibly sad and to a certain point even left out...

It truly bothers me, because I do miss the fandom, the community and interactions. So, being on vacation as we speak, I sat down in the car on the passenger's seat, on my way to Austria towards my beloved mountains, surrounded by the beauty of Germany's Black Woods, to think of what exactly brought me back to the Digimon-hype a little over one and a half year ago.

I found it was fanfiction that eventually led me to the reboot. So on this 1st (2nd... I'm a day late, blame writers block) of August, Odaiba Memorial Day, while I initially had different plans and ideas, I found myself writing the following.

A careful try getting out of my Digimon-block with a short little thing. Enjoy~

Digiweek Day 7 - Free day | Characters: Taichi Yagami (vague mentions of the others) | words: 579 | Setting: Digimon Adventure: 2020, Summer Camp in episode 3

Pic + edit by me (Schwarzwald, Badener Höhe, Germany)

Snow in August

Looking around, all Taichi saw were rocky trails zigzagging their way up along trees. The goggles around his neck had been hanging there since this morning and though everything was new and unknown, a feeling of familiarity had struck him. It was all vague, but oddly familiar all the same. The goggles around his neck traveled up to his head, the glass reflecting the shimmers of light seeping through the green leaves, dashingly providing all that was there with light, love and liveliness. Including himself.

He had no idea where he was going, or why he was going. He only knew he was and that something inexplicable had pulled him towards here. It had ogled at him from a distance, lured him in without it feeling suspicious or scary. It was sheer excitement and curiosity that made him follow the unknown path, all the way up, over meandering paths paved with rocks and dirt. It was the adventure that had kicked in, the want and need to get more, go higher. Be courageous. He had something to fight for.

Once up that hill, still unclear of what had brought him here, unsure of what he had to find or see, he knew he had to wait. His peers often called him impatient, though he knew he was not. Especially at times like these he knew he had to wait. And so he would.

Maybe he was chosen, even though he was just a child. Just like he had been chosen to fall into that strange digital realm, meeting the yellow-orangy dinosaur, facing threats in there, accompanying the mysterious blonde boy… He had been destined to shake the hand of his bright newfound friend. They had been destined to literally trip and catch in front of his female teammate and friend.

They had all been coincidences, encounters by any chance, nothing was preconceived. It had been encounters for life, connection that were made, that were not easy to unbound. They were chosen to stay. The why, however, was a question he wasn’t been able to answer. It wasn’t complete just yet.

They weren’t complete.

Suddenly, chillness filled the air, the sun disappearing behind white clouds and a shadow crossed the valley where Summer Camp was held. Instead of it feeling like it was a threat, it was more of a welcoming change of weather.

Before he realized it, there were little crystals falling out of the sky. White dots flying and falling, not staying, just falling. Every normal kid would think it was strange, but this as well gave him that familiar feeling. A feeling of coming back home to a place, a moment in time, where he, for as far as he could remember, had never been before…

Slowly the snow continued to fall, whirling down to touch the still warm ground. It evaporated into thin air, leaving invisible damp traces fogging up his goggle’s glasses. Looking in those glasses, he saw colors; Orange and pink, green, blue, grey, red and purple and yellow. In the falling snow he saw silhouettes, one more clear than the other. Friends, known and unknown, objects, creatures, signature clothing pieces.

He wondered… He shook his head, trying to see clear again. To think and act or act, then think.

It was out of the ordinary, snow in August. But he knew, he felt, it had happened before, marking the beginning of adventure.

Taichi could do it -whatever that ‘it’ was- all over again.

[imagine-being-straight]

A Message to the TOH Fandom

I’m tired.

I feel like everyone in the fandom can agree that the TOH fandom overall has white favoritism. If you actively deny that we have a problem with white favoritism or are offended that I said this, look at yourself and other people who have been talking about this issue. Really look at yourself and ask why you are offended by what I said. Now back to the TOH fandom’s problem with white favoritism. It’s a huge problem and I don’t think people have realized how bad it’s gotten.

Luz and Amity

Do both of them have amazing content created about them? Yes, but if you look a bit closer to the contents of their contents you’ll see a clear disparity between the two. Luz is more likely to be in Lumity art (which itself isn't a problem), but the problem lies in that she is only there for Amity. Is there still content with her alone and highlighting her character? Of course there is, but for every content that exists for Luz solely, there are at least two others for Amity. Don’t get me wrong I love Amity as much as the next person, but she still is a side character. The Owl House focuses on Eda, King, and Luz mainly. They are the main characters.

When I first joined the TOH fandom, I noticed a lot of Amity focused content. A lot more so than I expected since she is a side character. I understand that a factor in her popularity is her crush on Luz and we’re all really excited for confirmed gay characters, but it doesn’t explain how popular she is. She appears in roughly half of season one’s episodes (I know she technically appears in 11 episodes, but some of her appearances are so minor you can easily forget they happened) compared to Luz being in all 18 episodes. Yes Luz isn’t always the focus of these episodes, but she still changes and develops as a character through most of them.

The reason I’m bringing all of this up is that Amity is white and Luz is a POC. Characters of color in the past have been overlooked and underappreciated in the past, not just in this fandom, but it still happens a lot here. Whether it’s conscious or not, we all have been affected by white favoritism and it is our responsibility to recognize it and change. The Owl House brings more than just gay representation: it brings an Afro-Latina Bisexual protaganist with two major side characters, Willow and Gus, being a mixed Asian-Black character and a Black character. You still think I’m full of shit saying there’s white favoritism in the TOH fandom? Well I’m just getting started here.

Willow, Gus, and Boscha

Boscha herself is an interesting character and I think people see a lot of potential for her character, but the problem is that she overshadows a lot of other characters who are much more important and relevant. Willow is a good example of someone who has been constantly overshadowed by Boscha. Most content I see of Willow is usually Boschlow content (I’m not approving or condemning Boschlow here, this is me just stating some facts) and it’s so unfair to Willow as a character. Willow is more than just Luz’s friend or a quiet girl and more people need to realize that. If you can analyze Boscha’s character in the three episodes she is in, you can do the same thing to Willow, who has been in 14 episodes (three more than Amity). There is no excuse for the lack of Willow content and the abundance of Boscha content.

The same thing can be applied to Gus. Sure he doesn’t get very much screen time, but it is still loads more than Boscha. I have seen barely any content about Gus and the few times I do, he is usually with a group and not alone. No one talks about him and I cannot express how underrated he truly is. If you want some funny content with him, play around with his interest in humans and how he has totally misinterpreted things we know as facts. If you want Gus angst, then write about how young he is and how he could be feeling inadequate despite being smart enough to skip two grades. Amity is seen by the fandom as a whole as being extremely smart, but the fact that Gus skipped two grades, a feat Amity has not done herself, truly showcases how smart Gus really is. It’s not that hard to make Gus content and everyone is just sleeping on him.

The fandom loves to attach itself to Boscha, who may I remind you is white. Willow and Gus, who have way more plot relevance and screen time, are constantly pushed aside for more and more Boscha content. Willow and Gus are beautifully written in the show, but most people overlook it for Boscha, who in the show has been fairly one note so far. If your only argument is that you want to show the background characters some love, then where is the Skara content? Skara has just as much screen time as Boscha, but I’ve seen very little content about her. I guarantee if Boscha was a POC she would have the same level of content as Skara, but since she is white she overshadows literally every other POC supporting character, including those who have had more screen time than her. Don’t even get me started on the Detention Track kids and Emira/Viney. This post is already long enough and I don’t need to make it any longer.

Camilia and Alador/Odelia Blight

Right here is the clearest example of the white favoritism of the TOH fandom. Alador and Odalia Blight have gotten so much content about them and we still haven’t seen their faces. You can easily find so much analysis on them and how their parenting must affect the Blight siblings. You can find so much content about them and we know literally nothing about them other than the fact that they’re abusive. I know Alador is set up to be less abusive than Odalia, but it doesn’t change the fact that he is still abusive to his kids. Whether he approved what was going on or not doesn’t matter because he was still complacent with what was happening.

Now let’s look at Camilia and all her content- oh wait there is basically none for her. All the Camilia content is basically nothing other than CamilEda content (again I’m not trying to bash or approve CamilEda, I’m just trying to state some facts). Camilia did make a mistake in setting Luz to the camp, but that does not make her a bad mother. People need to remember one bad action does not make a bad person. I think Dana herself said that Luz and Camilia do love each other, but they do have their differences, which makes things hard sometimes. Camilia truly does care about Luz and tries her best to do what‘s best for Luz and more people need to recognize it. There is so much untapped potential with Camilia’s character, like how she will react to Luz not coming home or what she will do to try to get Luz back. What if she sees all of the recordings Luz has made for her? How will she react? These are all things we can make content on, yet I see so many people sleeping on it.

Now when you compare how the fandom treats both Camilia and the Blight parents, there’s a clear bias in favor for the Blight parents. The Blight parents are given more attention and content despite having less actual screen time and being actual pieces of garbage. Camilia is shoved to the side despite there being plenty to analyze about her and her relationship with Luz. Camilia is also a good person, which is clearly different to the Blight parents. It’s never been a matter of which parent/child relationship is better because they’re both written very well, but rather the fact that Camilia gets shoved aside every time we talk about parent/child relationships. I mean when you look at it, Camilia and Luz’s relationship with each other is literally the Blight family’s dynamic, except the opposite. The only difference between the two families is that one has POCs and the other is white. And to no one’s surprise, the white family gets more attention and analysis than the POC’s family.

Statistics

If you’re still not convinced here's some cold hard evidence that white characters are more favored than POC characters. I’m going to be using AO3’s (archiveofourown) data on how many works a character is tagged in.

On AO3 at around 6:35 PM EST Oct 3, 2020, The Owl House had 1921 works. As we can see Luz is number one (as she should), Willow is number three, and Gus is number four. They’re ranked fairly high (which was a surprise to me), but when you look at how many works they’re actually in, the white favoritism becomes clear. Amity is tagged in around 1480 works and Willow and Gus each are in 730 and 610 respectively. Willow and Gus are in half the works Amity is. Somehow Willow appears in half the works Amity does even though Willow appears more than Amity in the show. Boscha also has 360 works with her in it, half of what Gus and Willow’s works despite being a very minor character who has appeared only a few times. What's worse is that Edric and Emira are literally 200 to 60 works away from Willow and Gus respectively. Edric and Emira, two white characters who have appeared in literally three episodes, but are tagged in nearly the same number of works as two main POC-supporting characters. Now maybe you’re like “Oh the Blight siblings are only so popular because of Lumity, this data is skewed” so the next picture is of all the characters with all of the romantic relationship tags excluded.

The data shows that the fandom favors the white characters so drastically that there is no excuse or other explanation for it. Lumity being popular doesn’t explain why Amity is still the third most written-about character, even with the Lumity tag being blocked. Quantity of episode appearances doesn't explain why Willow has less content about her because Willow appears in three more episodes than Amity does. The only explanation is white favoritism because the most popular characters are all white (with the exception of Luz, but that’s because she is the main character). Before you tell me “Oh it's because they’re more interesting or they have more potential” actually look and analyze the POC characters because they’re amazingly well written if you actually sit down and analyze them.

Why Calling Out White Favoritism Matters

Now you may be asking: why should I care? Well you should care because the fandom as a whole is literally favoring white characters over POC characters, which is low key racist. It makes people care less about POC characters and actual people which can lead to some internalized racism if not caught early enough. The Owl House tries very hard to highlight their POC characters and actively ignoring or dismissing them is disrespecting the show itself.

I feel like I should make it clear that I’m not shaming anyone who’s favorite character just happens to be white. What I’m doing here is being critical of whether or not a person likes a character because they are white (whether that decision is conscious or not). There is a clear difference between “Oh X is my favorite character, but I recognize the other characters are good in their own ways.” and “Oh I love X and only X. I will only use the other characters to further X’s character and completely ignore everyone else’s complexity”. Please take some time and think about why you like a character and see if you unconsciously love them because they are white. No one is immune to it and even I had to realize I was unconsciously favoring white characters while writing something The Owl House related.

The sad part about all of this is that it needs to be said that racism is bad. It needs to be said that white favoritism is extremely toxic and we should make sure we don’t actively take part or be complacent in it. I know for a fact that other POC have seen this white favoritism, but are too numb to say anything about this because they feel like their voices won’t change anything. The few people who have spoken out haven't been listened too. The fact that I had to step up and make this just to try to get people to listen and I might not even make a difference is so sad to me. The fact that I’m young makes me not numb to the white favoritism. The fact that I dealt with, for the first time, racism at the age of 14, which is extremely late for a POC. The fact that the only reason I can be mad about this is because I dealt with racism so late that I have energy to speak out against this and not be numb to this all. I hate that all of this exists and we all let this happen. We all let this problem fester and now it is now our responsibility to get our priorities straight and change. If we let this problem grow and grow, then in a few years this fandom will be a shell of what it once was.

“We can do this together.” -Luz Noceda

[saby-chan]

Why the ATLA comics fail when it comes to Zuko and his family

To whom ever took their time to actually stop and read this post, thank you in advance for not skipping my post and willing to stay and read my humble opinion! I hope I won’t disappoint you!

As a relatively newcomer to the ATLA fanbase since 2020, I’ve come across a lot of interesting debates, comments and rants about the show, characters and fandom in general, but nothing has captivated me as much as the dumpster-on-fire that are the ATLA comics, more specifically: The Promise and The Search. 

On one hand we have the hardcore fans who want them to be animated or serialized into the Netflix live action, praising the comics for the new views and subject matters they’ve brought into the show’s lore, while on the other hand we have the furious Azula fandom who is really angry for the fact that best girl didn’t get the redemption arc she rightfully deserved so much after the painful event that was the Last Agni Kai and the even more angry fans of the Urzai ship (yeah, the people who actually ship Zuko’s parents unironically) who hated the retconning of the show’s cannon since the comics basically took a huge fat dump on what was previously established as official cannon, when the Search entered the scene, but between these two sides, who has the more valid point? In the end, are the comics good cannon or bad written fanfiction?

Well... Here are my two cents on this matter since I myself happen to be an Azula and Zuko fan and had huge expectations from these comics (since I wanted more from my fave hot-headed fiery siblings duo) but ended up disappointed: the comics are indeed a huge mess and actually bad written fanfiction when it comes to Zuko and his family! Don’t click off yet, because I actually documented the reasons why exactly the comics fail in this area:

1. The author of these comics is not part of the BryKe duo

Yes, I would like to start with the fact that if you actually take a second to look up who in the heck took the time to write these two books, you won’t find Bryan, nor Mike, but a fellow man named Gene Yang. This is important because while the wiki of both The Promise and The Search state BryKe as the creators, that doesn’t mean that they were the actual minds behind these comics, but rather because ATLA is their “baby” and these comics involve their characters, over which they have copyright. Mr. Yang here is the actual brain behind the plot, as the main writer, which explains why we find huuuuge inconsistencies between the show lore and the comics, especially Zuko wise.

My main issue with Mr. Yang isn’t that he isn’t BryKe specifically, but because he did an unforgivable mistake in his writing process: He projected himself into Zuko’s character, based on the relationship Zuko had with his father. This is a documented fact from an interview in which he explains that he sees himself and his dad’s relationship into Zuko and Ozai and used that when writing their interactions and built Zuko’s character in the comics. And this is wrong because when you have an already very developed and complex character such as Zuko, you can’t just come in and be like “Oh, I was an angsty teen just like him in my teenage years, fighting with my dad and whatnot, so he must have the same thought process as me!”. NO! This is bad fanfiction writer behavior! Zuko has his own personality and philosophy, which he developed over the course of 3 seasons and is not defined by only 1 unfortunate aspect of his past, so you can’t just base his whole mindset and actions off of your own personal experience just because you had the same daddy issues he had!

2. The whole “Promise that you will kill me if I turn out like my dad!” nonsense in The Promise

Reason number 2 why these comics fail and go under the category of “bad fanfiction” is because they fail to convey the core essence of the source material. The whole point of Zuko’s redemption was that he realized the wrongdoings of his ancestors and his own mistakes. He outgrew his desire of gaining his father’s acknowledgement in favor of choosing his own destiny. Having him worry that he’ll turn into his father is utter nonsense and feels like poor angsty drama material for the sake of angst. At this point in time, Zuko has overcame that obstacle in his life a long time ago and should be at the level where he himself is the “Uncle Iroh” for other people and in no way someone concerned of becoming their own worst enemy!

Not only that, but the whole point of Aang’s journey and the story of the show as a whole was to teach us, the viewers, the importance of forgiveness, empathy and love in life. Aang didn’t spare Ozai, aka “the ultimate evil” just to flex in front of his pals or because he is a “ 12 y/o vegan pacifist monk kid”, but because he knew that killing someone, no matter of what they did or wanted to do, wouldn’t restore balance into the Universe, on the contrary, him killing the villain would have meant perpetuating the “endless cycle of hate” that plagued the world. So having Aang promise to kill his best friend in case “they turned into an evil maniac like their dad” contradicts Aang’s whole character and it’s a nonsense that throws into the trash what we’ve learnt throughout the entire TV series.

3. Azula deserved (and was supposed) to have a redemption ark

This might still be pure speculation, but I count it as a documented reason because I’ve heard quite a few people saying that there should’ve been a book 4 in the show, aka “Book 4: Air”, and no, it wasn’t The Search, but actually Zuko and Azula’s journey as Zuko helps his younger sister heal her broken mind by being her very own “Uncle Iroh”. Sure, they prolly were going to end up looking for Ursa, but the journey should’ve ended with them actually being happy and a family again and not the bs we got in The Search where a still very unstable Azula runs away and becomes the “Next Joker”! The only problem is that M. Night had to pop up and curse the world with his movie, which forced BryKe to delay the project (and eventually abandoned it in favor of Korra).

All in all, either if BryKe had this preplanned or not, it made sense for Azula to get a redemption ark, she deserved it because she was just a broken 14 y/o child! If Katara’s mom’s murderer deserved to be forgiven, so did this poor child who had no fault for what happened to her since she had a dysfunctional family! What Gene Yang did in his poorly written fanfiction was to just antagonize a broken child, turning her into a monster for the sake of friggin angst!

4. The Search is the worst of the two, being flat af character wise

And finally, getting to the point that I personally find the most annoying about these comics: The Search. This one... This one is a mess on a hella lot many levels, and just to list a few: characters are flat as fudge, being either black as vanta black (like Ozai and Azula) or pure white like Gene’s Gary Stue OC, Mr Ikem (or how I like to call him, IKEA man) and his ‘victim’ rendition of Ursa, Azula gets to suffer more for no reason (see reason number 3 to why I find this as a no no), Ursa’s whole character sucks ass (man, I could write a whole thesis on why Yang’s version of her is terrible and doesn’t match the strong woman we got in the show) and Zuko does morally wrong stuff (my man literally used his unstable sister to bribe their dad into spitting info about Ursa... Show Zuko would never do that!;-;)

Oh boy, as a person who’s seen a ton of anime and other media and read many books, I can’t begin on how much I despise this type of writing: flat characters are the worst!

 ATLA characters in the show are nothing close to being flat! What I mean by that is that none of them fall perfectly into pure white (aka goodest of good characters with no imperfections) or vanta black (aka lowest and darkest twisted monsters out there), each of them are various shades of grey (like Aang who is a very light grey because despite being a very kind and nice character, he still isn’t a “perfect hero” since he ran away from his duties, practiced tax fraud with Toph, had insecurities and even threatened to kill people on ocassions like with the sand benders who took Appa) and this is a good choice because that prevents them from becoming what’s globally known as Mary Sues and Gary Stues (aka those either “perfect” characters with no flaws and/or unlimited power, or the twisted monsters full of flaws).

And the other reason why many other people hate The Search: it literally negates previously established cannon. And here comes my short essay on why this comic fails Zuko’s family (since we’ve already talked enough about Zuko himself).

In cannon and even interviews with BryKe, it was clearly stated that Zuko’s family was “once happy”. Where is this “once happy” family in The Search? All I see is pain, deception, lies and betrayal, nothing close to anything that resembles happiness. Okay, some of you might come in and say that “It’s because it was never the case! It was only lies and Zuko trying to convince himself that he didn’t live in hell forever!” and here is WHERE YOU WERE ALL WRONG! And why? Because, my dear fella, where were depicted the flashbacks of Zuko’s “happy family” in The Beach? Ember Island. And what do we know and had been even quoted in the show?  "Like waves washing away the footprints on the sand, Ember Island gives everyone a clean slate. Ember Island reveals the true you." (direct quote from the show). Exactly, no matter who you are or how hard you try, you can’t hide your true self when you are on the Ember Island, best example being Azula, who’s impenetrable though shell cracked and revealed the true vulnerable child that was underneath. If Azula couldn’t resist the “spell of the island”, no one can. So this means that Zuko’s family was indeed happy once and yes, Ozai wasn’t always the douchebag we got to know in Season 3 (I have a whole nother essay on my theories regarding what could be his real past story and why he’s actually the “Zuko” of his generation, based on stuff I gathered from old wiki entries and character analyses I made, but that’s for another time, lemme know if ya’ll are interested).

And what I guess is the biggest proof why The Search did this family’s past trash is comics Ursa herself. My dude, if this woman were indeed the victim of years of endless abuse and never loved her husband, I guarantee you that she would’ve been closer to what we saw in Todoroki’s mom from BNHA and Zuko would’ve gotten that scar or even worse long before the Agni Kai, not from his “daddy dearest”, but from “mommy dearest” herself, because no sane woman would be soo affectionate and attached to a child that’s the perfect copy of their abuser, sepecially appearance wise (again see Todoroki’s mom’s case from BNHA because the stories are really similar) and in no way would’ve she been willing to sacrifice her life for said child’s sake. With this ocassion, I remind ya’ll folks that according to the ancient ATLA cannon wikis on Nick’s site, Ozai was designed with Zuko’s appearance in mind, being meant to be like a “grown up scarless version” of Zuko. So yeah, remember this with a grain of salt that whenever you simp over grown up Zuko, you involuntary simp for Ozai too.

So yeah, I guess this kinda concludes my “not so short” rant about why the comics fail and are bad fanfiction. Lemme hear your thoughts in the comments and if you agree, feel free to leave a like and even reblog.

Bye bye and remember that Momo is the true strongest character of the show!

 Saby out.

[klarolinelibrary]

This week, for our first 'loyal reader,' we had a chance to chat with Ennie, a very enthusiastic and passionate reader. Keep reading to find out what she has to say about her start in the fandom to her favorite story.

KCL: For our first question we would like you to introduce yourself! What's your name or alias? And could you mention your username?

Ennie: Hi! My name is Ennie and my tumblr username is @enniec123.

KCL: Thank you for allowing us to interview you. We are really excited about this. So let’s jump in with this question: how and when did you join the Klaroline fandom?

Ennie: Yeah, of course! I joined the Klaroline fandom because my friend is really into the show and had been telling me to watch it for a long time, so I binged all 3 shows in spring 2020.

Before watching the show, I knew the bare minimum, which was that he's a bad guy and she's a good guy, very black and white. I also knew that Klaroline was a thing and was kinda confused as to how they could be together because they were on opposite sides. Keep in mind, I knew basically nothing, and I had only really read friends to lovers ships before watching the show. Next, I watched the iconic 3x11 scene, then immediately saw why they were so loved and jumped on board so fast.

KCL: Would you say after watching the memorable 3x11 scene, that it was what drew you to Klaus and Caroline ship? Could you explain what exactly drew you in?

Ennie: 3x11 is definitely what drew me into them. In my opinion, there was nothing really platonic about that whole scene. First of all, the words he used and the way he said them were really soft and different compared to what we had seen before. Until this point, we knew him as the ruthless killer, then he becomes softer and is telling her that there is a huge world out there, waiting to be explored. The other part was that he leaned in really close while talking, and he could have put his blood in a glass and give it to her, but instead, he offered his arm, brought her close, and stroked her hair.

KCL: You answered that beautifully! Their first scene together is definitely one of the most popular ones here in the fandom! After falling in love with the Klaus and Caroline ship, do you remember the first story you've read?

Ennie: I was kind of shocked that I remembered which fic brought me into reading more Klaroline, it feels like it was forever ago, not 9-ish months. Before TVD, I was reading Gendrya fics from the GOT universe, and I knew that as soon as I started reading Klaroline fics I would not be reading other fics anymore. So, I waited a few months after finishing the show, and I think around August/September-ish I saw that one of my fav Gendrya writers also wrote 3 Klaroline fics. Then I was like "ok, maybe ill read them and see what happens."

My first fic was either Right Place, Wrong Time or When Life Changes by @psychvamp25. Then I binged all of @honestgrins one-shot/drabbles. Everything snowballed from there, and here we are today.

Right Place, Wrong Time is the fic that made me start to love time travel fics and the viking era fics. When Life Changes made me love the period fics and the ones that they were together for a long time. Then I read @bellemorte180's Original Caroline fic and I was a goner. Original Caroline is definitely one of my favorite tropes.

KCL: It's impressive that you still remember your first story! And it seems like you have spent a lot of time reading. On average, what would you say is the number of hours you have spent reading stories?

Ennie: It honestly depends on how busy I am. I like to binge stories, and read till like 2 am. I know it's a very bad habit, and I am working on it. If I am busy then maybe 1 hour-ish during the day and 2 at night so 1-3 hours. If I have a break in school, then I would read for an entire day. If I have more time while it's a school week, then maybe 3-8 hours a day, sometimes more depending on how late I stay up… I realize now that I have a problem. Yikes. A lot basically.

KCL: That's nothing to feel bad about! We’re sure that there are many others who are on the same boat as you, we certainly are! Since you do a lot of reading, do have any favourite authors? Could you share a couple of them?

Ennie: I have so many favorite authors. Here are a few: @galvanizedfriend (Yokan), coveredincolors, @honestgrins​ (honestgrins), @helpless-in-sleep​ (perfectpro), @helpfulfairy​ (helpfulfairy92), @lalainajanes​ (LalainaJ), @misssophiachase​ (misssophiachase), @klarolineagainnaturally​ (klarolineagainnaturally), @bellemorte180​ (bellemorte180) and @lynyrdwrites​ (LynyrdLionheart).

This was really hard to choose.

KCL: We are so lucky to have so many talented authors in this community, where we can always enjoy reading new or rereading stories from them. Before we dive into your favorite story, what are you currently reading so we can add it to our reading list?

Ennie: I am currently rereading Endlessly by @slstmaraudersjple. Another one of my favies.

KCL: Thank you for sharing! We will definitely be checking it out. So far, you have mentioned your first stories and your favorite authors, but what would you say is your favorite KC story?

Ennie: Only Human by @peacefulvillagefairone is one of my favorite fics. Besides The Wolf 2, I will say this is definitely my favorite story.

KCL: We love that story too! It’s one of our favorites! In your own words, could you give us a brief summary of the story?

Ennie: I suck at summaries because I end up spoiling it, but I will try my best.

Caroline is human and wants to know more about Klaus because he doesn't open up a lot to her. She gets sent back in time to when the originals were human. From that point on, she goes on an adventure to try to get back to her time but not before trying to dodge trouble that comes her way.

KCL: That was such a great summary! And what was it that you loved about the author’s writing style?

Ennie: In my opinion, the story is very light. There is a lot of fluff but there is also a lot of plot. It's centered around time traveling and I really love that. It's about the adventures that they go on and how Caroline gets to see different versions of Klaus.

I think that the fic is a fun ride. It's a non-thinking story which I really enjoy. Don’t get me wrong, I love really analytical fics that make me think a lot, but when your brain needs a break from real life and you don't want to think a lot then this fic is perfect. There are some mysteries in the fic that make you think but it gets revealed soon and there are a lot of hints so it's a fun mystery to solve without deep diving into it.

KCL: Our next question is what made you fall in love with the story? Was it the chemistry between Klaus and Caroline? The conflict in the story or maybe the character arcs?

Ennie: I thought that it was a different story because it starts with Klaus and Caroline getting together when she was human and then time traveling. I loveeeee domestic and established kc and the fic shows them being physically together but not mentally together if that makes sense.

The fic shows the progression of their trust and how deeply they fall in love with each other. While I do love fics that start with them not together, sometimes I want a long fic with a lot of fluff. This story has a balance of plot and fluff. It's a beautiful story. It's on the longer side but it makes me really happy. If I'm feeling down, then I skip around the fic to reread my favorite parts.

KCL: We agree! We enjoy a good story of Klaus and Caroline in a domestic setting too. And for our last question, what would you want to say to readers who haven't read your favorite story yet?

Ennie: I hope you read it and it brings you joy and satisfaction like it did to me.

Letter To The Author

To @peacefulvillagefairone,

Thank you for creating such amazing stories. Only Human has a special place in my heart. It was one of the first fics I have ever read and I am in love with the plotline. Time travel fics are so fun and you wrote it beautifully. I can't spoil anything for the fic but I really love a certain someone. I think that he is such a good character and the matchmaking cracked me up. The convos between present and past were so amazing. The characterizations were on point. The story is so fluffy and full of plot and it makes me so happy when I read it. When Klaus, Caroline, and the OC are together, it's so sweet. I loooovvveeeee their moments, esp the ending. The story has so many of my favorite tropes all wrapped up in 120k words *chefs kiss* Thank you once again for creating this masterpiece and sharing it with the world. 💖

From your loyal reader,

@enniec123 🍊

[terresdebrumestories]

Available for consultation

FANDOM: The Old Guard (2020) SERIES: - RATING: General audiences WORDCOUNT: 4 776 words PAIRING(S): None CHARACTER(S): Nile Freeman (POV), Yusuf Al Kaysani, Andromache the Scythian, Niccolo di Genova (mentioned), Sébastien Le Livre (mentioned). GENRE: Mutual care, Nile Freeman character introspection. TRIGGER WARNING(S): None that I can think of :) SUMMARY: Nile misses her mother but doesn't know how to talk about it or with who. fortunately, Bâtard the emotional support tortoise is here to help. NOTE(S): This was originally written for Nile Week 2020 but never put online because of reasons, so now here it is, longer and better written than it was :D Hugest thanks to @avaniesque for the most excellent beta work :D [ALSO AVAILABLE ON AO3.]

Nile gasps when something soft bumps against her foot, hurriedly wiping at her cheeks as she turns towards the door. It looks empty at first, the cobwebs they didn’t bother dealing with earlier in the day gently swaying in the air. There’s some shuffling along the dusty floor, a light click of nails on stone, and then a small oblong head appears near the bottom. This is swiftly followed by short scaly legs and a black and brown shell wrapped in a crocheted lab coat. Nile tenses, unprepared for any sort of human company at the moment, but relaxes when it becomes apparent Booker has not elected to follow his pet around.

Said pet has now fully entered the living-room and is beelining for a strawberry resting against her right pinky toe. It looks good enough to eat, as does the rest of what Booker feeds it, which Nile still doesn’t really understand but who is she to tell Booker how to care for his pet? Bâtard, of course, is unconcerned by her surprise and eventually gets to chomping on the strawberry.

Nile’s eyes are dry by now, the tight press of sadness around her heart still present but past its peak, at least for now. It still takes her a couple of seconds to realize the small square of bright white on the side of Bâtard’s outfit is a piece of paper. She picks it up to find a few words from a hand that hasn’t yet lost the impeccable penmanship of its first life. Apparently it’s hard to let go of habits people beat into you with a stick. The note reads : “He’ll keep your secret as long as you keep paying. First one on me.” It makes Nile smile.

(Andy, Nicky and Joe are all just as capable of impeccable calligraphy, but when free not to pay attention to it they tend to revert to script letters. Booker is the only one who insists on torturing them all with permanent cursive written with fountain pens on special paper.)

She doesn’t know Booker all that well, yet. Seven years ago, he was the quiet grumpy member of the group who didn’t seem to care much whether Nile stayed or left. Then he was the one who made a pretty compelling case against Nile seeing her family again—revealing himself to have some unresolved issues in the process—and then he was the one whose issues exploded all over the rest of the group. Now he’s mostly the one who was brought back way too soon, who knows it, and tries to make himself as scarce as possible because of it.

Mostly, it means that while Nile is the one who’s exchanged the most words with him so far, it’s also pretty much been limited to the topic of...well. His tortoise. All in all, much less informative about the man compared to just watching him settle said tortoise up in every safehouse they use, no matter how temporary. (Nile would help, but she’s not entirely sure how the others would take it. It seems prudent not to.) Or looking at the cozies the tortoise parades around on a regular basis...or, as the case may be, discovering he’s taken the time to bedeck his precious reptile in a new outfit for the sole purpose of leaving it (uncharacteristically) unsupervised in Nile’s company just so she has someone to talk to.

“You’re not who I want to talk to either,” she says, because she’s under no illusion that her solitude today has been accidental. “I mean, I know they’re trying I just—”

Nile sighs, wiping at her face in a vain attempt to clear her head, but the gesture only brings fresh moisture to her eyes as she tries to swallow down her frustration. It feels almost silly, in the grand scheme of things, to be this upset over this, but, well... Hearts do what they want, and there’s nothing Nile can do about that, so eventually she looks down at Bâtard’s scaly little head and tells the tortoise:

“It’s my mom’s birthday tomorrow. She’s turning sixty-five and I—”

Nile claps a hand on her mouth to stifle the sob wrenching itself out of her, but it feels piercing and loud in the quiet evening air nonetheless. She breathes around it for a bit, unwilling to attract company just yet, and reaches down to rub Bâtard’s head with her forefinger.

“I want to be with her,” she eventually confesses to the tortoise. “I want to be there and hug her, I—I miss my mom.”

Nile knows she can call. They’ve got burner phones, Copley’s skills to keep them hidden, and an uneasy truce with Quynh ensuring the biggest threat they’ve faced so far isn’t much of one for now. Three years ago she wouldn’t even have had that: her mother and brother both convinced she was dead and buried somewhere in the mountains of Afghanistan. She believes with all of her heart that her mother and brother would never blame her for living when they can’t.

Her mother is starting the second half of her sixties, and she’s not there to see it. Her mother, who’s growing older and greying a little at the temples. Her mother, who deserves better than never knowing when they’ll see each other again, with little-to-no news in between visits. Her mother, who was there for her in every way she could and every way that counted, and for whom Nile wants to be there but can’t. Her mother, who will not be there forever.

(Sometimes, the thought hits Nile out of nowhere, and it takes an impossible effort not to drop everything right then and there to jump in the first flight to Chicago.)

“It’s just—” Nile pauses, trying to pick her words so she can really make Bâtard understand, as impossible as that is, and continues : “They’re great. All of them. They’re—even Booker’s not so bad. I mean, I’m kind of stuck in the middle of the family feud so that’s not the best feeling, but... They’ve gone above and beyond to help me feel welcome, they’ve taught me so many amazing things…. They’re just...not my mom.”

Bâtard, done with his strawberry, lifts his head to look at her, and Nile swears he even leans into her scratching, just a little. It’s a pleasant surprise and she finds herself smiling, not very bright but present nonetheless. It soothes something in her, too, not to be alone right now even though she’s not ready for human company. Both her mother and Jordan have allergies so they’ve never had pets before, and Nile never really longed for one either. Right now, though, she thinks she understands a little better what endears them to people.

“I’m...scared,” she admits, keeping her voice quiet like it’s going to make a difference. “I know I’m going to lose her one day, that’s inevitable, but I don’t want to find out about it months later because my brother couldn’t reach me...I don’t want to find out about his death from nephews and nieces who’ll barely know who I am, if they know I exist at all.” Nile sighs again, sobs crowding in her throat and tightening her voice as she admits: “I wish I hadn’t listened to Booker.”

That last admission is what breaks the dam, and all of a sudden Nile is sobbing again, and she couldn’t stop if she wanted to. There’s misery here, and anger too, maybe even more than there was at the beginning. It was...easier, in a way, to pretend to be dead. She had to mourn, of course, and that tore at her and still does sometimes, but it was a clean cut. It was simple.

Now her mother knows she’s alive and her brother knows and it’s a relief for all of them, but it also means Nile has to be the one consciously deciding not to call home until she’s in a safe enough place to do so, not to text until she can do it from a sufficiently untraceable phone. The temptation there is a hundred times harder to resist because it would be so easy not to.

“If it makes you feel better,” Joe’s voice says from the threshold, “I think we can all sympathize with that sentiment.”

He’s being quiet and careful—it’s the middle of the night after all—but Nile is still startled, and she pretends to glare at him until he tilts his head in quiet enquiry. In response she sighs, wipes at her wet cheeks again, and waves him over. He smiles, something almost like relief in it, and steps lightly into the living room.

“Mind the doctor,” Nile tells him, gesturing at the remains of the strawberry, as he lowers himself on the ground next to her.

“The doct—you mean Bâtard?”

“Yeah he’s—”

In that instant, Nile realizes she has no idea where Bâtard went. He was chilling by her feet, seemingly content to go to sleep soon, and now he’s nowhere to be seen. The realization is enough to send Nile’s heart racing, horrified at the thought of being the one under whose watch Bâtard meets an unfortunate end.

Sure, it isn’t her pet and she and Booker aren’t really close—not like she’s becoming with the others, at any rate—but 1) Bâtard doesn’t deserve to die and 2) it doesn’t take a genius to realize his demise would be absolutely disastrous for Booker’s mental health, and no one wants to see the consequences that could have on the rest of them. Joe must have gone through a similar realization, because as soon as Nile falls quiet he tenses and gets back up into a crouch.

“Please tell me we didn’t lose the tortoise,” he whispers, like he thinks Booker might be listening in on them.

“We didn’t lose the tortoise,” Nile replies because it’s barely been five minutes and Bâtard cannot possibly have gone far in that time frame.

“Good,” Joe says while Nile rummages through her pocket for her phone and turns the flashlight on, “because I don’t think any of us are prepared to deal with the fallout of—”

“We did not lose the tortoise,” Nile interrupts, her tone firm enough to pretend she’s not actually nervous about this. “Can you turn the light on? I’m getting nowhere with this.”

Joe does, and Nile spots Bâtard almost instantly, ambling in his unhurried stroll towards the fridge like he knows where the treats come from...maybe he does, Nile really doesn’t know enough about tortoises to tell. Either way, it’s a relief seeing him there, and she turns to let Joe know she’s found their target.

“Oh thank God,” Joe sighs, sagging with it. “I really don’t want to find out what Booker would be like if we lose him.”

“You know,” Nile remarks as she follows Bâtard’s mosey to the fridge, “I’ve been thinking maybe it’s time the lot of you had a talk about this.”

Joe winces, and Nile can sympathize with that if she’s really honest. She doesn’t feel the same about what happened, but then she doesn’t have a shared history with Booker the way the others do; it’s easier for her to let go faster. Still, Booker’s been back for nearly three months now, and Nile is getting tired of feeling like she needs to be walking on eggshells between the two parts of the group. Joe sighs.

“Which ‘this,’ do you think?”

“All of them,” Nile retorts, careful to keep her voice gentle. She’s not trying to force anyone into anything, after all. “Just...it’s been months, and you’re still avoiding each other. You all need to talk.”

Joe sighs again, running a hand over the nape of his neck. He looks like he might be ready to talk with someone, but the very thought of it makes Nile want to recoil. Another day, maybe. When she’s got more energy, and more space in her head for other people’s problems.

Not right now.

“Remember you’re on my strawberry,” Nile says, smiling to turn it half into a joke, “if you need a consultation you pay your own fee.”

“Alright,” Joe chuckles, good natured even in the middle of the night. “That’s fair.”

He sobers up soon after, growing quiet and serious to ask: “Is it working for you? Or would you like to tell me what’s going on? I’ll even listen for free, if you’re short on strawberries.”

Nile snorts. The truth is, she does feel better for having told him what was going on, even if her ‘consultation’ was accidentally cut short. She’s not sure how much of this she wants to share with the team just yet. There’s never an easy way to tell people who want to help you that they can’t because they’re simply...not who you want at that moment.

“Actually, I’m good right now,” she tells Joe. “Take you up on it another time?”

Joe visibly hesitates, something a little worried in his frown, so Nile gives a fond smile and leans up to squish him in a hug as much as she can manage.

“Thank you,” she tells him, relaxing when he returns the embrace just as tight and actually lifts her up against him. “I’m good, I promise. It’s not─you can probably guess most of it, honestly. I just...I feel kind of awkward about it, I guess.”

“Because we’re too close?” Joe guesses, and Nile nods.

“Sometimes it’s just easier to talk to someone uninvolved.”

“Well,” Joe says, something too wet in his throat to be only about Nile, “I’m glad you have that then. Just...just know I mean it.”

“I know,” Nile promises, chest warming from the care and the obvious concern. “Now go to sleep, old man.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Nile gives Joe a playful shove, snorting when he pretends to stumble, and watches him go with the stretch of a smile sinking into her cheeks. Slowly, the air around her grows still again, the vague sounds of a forest at night and a door creaking barely even noticeable.

How much sleeping is actually taking place on the other side of the safehouse, Nile doesn’t know. She learned very quickly that no one on this team is capable of normal sleep patterns. It’s quiet all the same, and after a few seconds of standing in place, she goes to the fridge, retrieves a peach quarter from Bâtard’s snack box and she plops the offering in front of him, turns the light off, and sits back down next to the tortoise.

“Alright,” she tells him, “maybe I wasn’t completely fair with your dad. I mean...he was wrong, but it’s not like he was trying to be cruel. And he did have a bit of a point.”

She still can’t quite stand the thought of losing her family. It’s unavoidable, she knows. One day, maybe, she’ll make her peace with it, but for now...no. She doesn’t want to think about that any more than she already has tonight.

“I know there’s a purpose,” Nile tells Bâtard. “I’ve seen it. I’ve witnessed it. And we’re getting better at it! I know I’m doing more good here than I used to as a soldier...but sometimes I wish there wasn't a purpose and I could just go home.”

Bâtard, either oblivious to or unconcerned by Nile’s predicament, keeps munching on his piece of peach, and Nile can’t help but smile down at him, reaching to rub at his head once more.

“You really are a good listener,” she tells him. “You’re still not my mom though. She’s the one I want to talk to.”

Bâtard looks up then, and straight at Nile with something that could almost pass for a purposefully flat expression...and, really, he’s not wrong. It’s nearing three am here which makes for...maybe ten or eleven in the evening in Chicago? And sure, Mom’s not so young anymore and could probably use the sleep...but today is her birthday, and Nile’s always tried to phone her on the day before, and she has a burner phone with her so, really, what’s stopping her?

Maybe the possibility of displeasing Andy, a bit. But, Nile thinks as she dials, they’re leaving tomorrow aren’t they? If she’s going to do it, at least she’s picking the least inconvenient time for it.

“N─yes?” Mom’s sleepy voice mumbles into the phone, better at the incognito game than she was when it all started two years ago. “Who is it?”

“It’s me,” Nile says, and smiles at her mother’s joyful, wordless exclamation. “Am I waking you up?”

“Nevermind that,” mom chides, “nevermind that! How are you? Where─well no, you can’t tell me where you are, but how are you?”

“Better now,” Nile says in a sigh, warmth and bittersweetness spreading in her chest as she leans back against the wall, finger still tracing circles on Bâtard’s head. “I mean. I miss you, but at least I get to hear you now.”

“Oh, I miss you too baby,” Mom says, tears audible in her voice, “but I’m so glad you called! Don’t tell your brother, but it’s definitely my favorite present this year!”

Nile smiles again, a little wobblier than she’d like, maybe, but not forced. This isn’t ideal and she wants more, but it’s better than not calling the way she’d planned to do. At her feet, in the dim silvery light of the moon, Bâtard looks just a little smug.

“Not a word,” Nile promises, knowing her mother is going to share the news herself anyway. “How was your day?”

“Oh it was nice! You know how I told Marjory down the street I felt ready to celebrate a little more this year now I got used to you being dead and all, so she treated me to lunch at that new Italian on the corner─you tell your Nuncio he was right, by the way, osso bucco is delicious. And then we went for a stroll in the park, and I was a little worried, because I’m still supposed to be grieving, but you’re alive and I wasn’t sure I’d look suitably emotional when we passed your favorite spots, but I do miss you so it really wasn’t that hard and all in all it was nice and Marjory’s none the wiser so I’m calling it a success.”

“I’m sorry,” Nile says, unsurprised when Mom tuts at her in response. “I know, I know. I still wish you didn’t have to lie to her.”

“Nile, baby, if Marjory knew, she’d understand. Now you stop worrying about her and tell me what your day was like.”

“It was alright,” Nile says, rolling her neck as the tension slowly seeps out of it, the breaths coming slower and easier now that she’s actually doing what she’s wanted to do all day. “I missed you. Jaamal taught me how to draw a dog, though, and then Antaram kicked my butt in training again.”

“Just you wait a few years,” Mom says with a chuckle, “then you can take advantage of her age.”

Nile snorts, even though she seriously doubts Andy will let an aging body get in the way of remaining the best fighter of the group. She might look past forty─although she doesn’t remember how long she’d lived before she died the first time─but she’s also been fighting since before horses were domesticated (or near enough), and all that expertise doesn’t just go away.

It’s still an amusing thought, though, so Nile chuckles along with her mother for a bit before continuing.

“It’s not that bad. I’m learning a lot.”

“Of course, of course! I’m just saying.”

“Of course,” Nile repeats, still smiling. “Anyway, that’s about it. Nuncio made us tagine, Jaamal made fun of him because apparently he cooks like a christian─I’m pretty sure that’s an inside joke. And then I was feeling a little down so Blàsi lent me Bâtard, and now I’m here.”

“Is Bâtard Franklin’s name?” Mom suggests when she hears Nile hiss at her slip up.

“Yes, but I don’t think he deserves it,” Nile says, grateful for her mother’s help. “I think we’re bonding. Either that or he just wants me for my fruit.” Mom chuckles. “He’s wearing a doctor’s outfit right now, by the way. I think it’s one of the homemade ones.”

It looks lumpier than the ones Bâtard wore at the beginning, at any rate, but in a way that makes it even cuter. Not that she needs the cozies to find Bâtard cute anymore. It’s entirely possible the tortoise doesn’t care one whit about her─she really doesn’t know a lot about them─but it’s clear that this little late night conversation was enough for Nile to bond with him.

“Oh, well, send me a picture if you can,” Mom says with the tone of a connoisseur readying to look at a newbie’s attempt, “see if I can give Blàsi some pointers.”

“I’ll try my best, but you know I can’t make promises,” Nile says, sadness creeping up again. “Places to see, things to do...you know how it is.”

“Speaking of,” Mom asks, “what time is it where you are? I mean─you can telle me that, right?”

“I can,” Nile says, smiling at her mother’s effort. “It’s uh...almost one AM.”

Nile yawns, unbidden, and then sighs.

“I think I need to go.”

“Yes you do,” Mom chides, teasing and firm all at once. “You’re not going to accomplish anything if you’re dead on your feet─off to bed, Nile.”

“I don’t want to,” Nile protests, not trying very hard to keep the pout out of her voice. “It’s your birthday.”

“It’s okay,” Mom says, and the tone of her voice is like a hug Nile wants to linger in forever. “I understand. I’m just glad you called.”

“I’m glad too,” Nile says, wiping at a stray tear on her cheek. “Happy birthday, mom.”

“I love you, baby,” Mom says, and Nile grins through a fresh wave of tears.

“Forever and ever?”

“Of course forever,” Mom promises with something like an amused eye roll in her tone. “Now go to sleep.”

“Yes mom. Bye.”

“Bye bye, love you.”

“Love you too,” Nile says, and then she reluctantly disconnects the call.

She’s still feeling blue, it’s true, but it’s a different sort of ache now, the sort that’s softened enough to be a fond remembrance of someone you love rather than a knife to the heart. It isn’t something Nile has figured out how to value yet, but it could be, someday, maybe. With a watery sigh and a smile, Nile bends to pick Bâtard up─he’s fallen asleep, it seems, all snuggled up in his shell and entirely unresponsive in the time it takes for her to scribble a quick thanks at the bottom of Booker’s note and bring Bâtard back to his terrarium in the old parlor.

“M’ci,” Booker mutters from the seat to her left, and Nile almost has a heart attack.

When she turns to scold Booker for it, however, he’s already back to sleep─or feigning sleep, she’s not entirely sure─his back to the door to the bedroom and turned towards the only unboarded window, which they’ve been using as an entry and exit point. Nile sighs, shaking her head, and goes to the room she shares with the others, only to jump again when she lies down on her mattress and finds herself face to face with Andy’s eyes shining in the moonlight.

“I fear the day my sleep patterns start matching yours,” Nile whispers to Andy, and sighs when all that garners her is a sharp smile. “How are you not dead on your feet?”

“I’m old enough to transcend the need for sleep.”

Nile punches her in the shoulder.

“Feeling any better?”

“Yes, actually,” Nile says, trying to shift into a comfortable position. “I talked to my mother...it’s always too short but. It’s good.”

“Good,” Andy says. There’s a pause, and then she adds, “Nile, I’m sorry.”

Nile blinks at the darkness. It’s been seven years, and while she knows full well Andy is perfectly capable of recognizing her shortcomings, it’s the first time Nile hears her actually apologize for anything. She’s got a right to be a little startled, she thinks.

“I was with Book on this,” Andy explains when the silence between them has stretched a little while longer. “Not seeing your family again, I mean. I didn’t think it could turn out well, either...sure didn’t do him any good. Or Lykon, for that matter.”

“To be fair,” Nile admits after a beat, “I get it. I’m probably just very lucky. And I...I’ll lose them anyway. Sooner or later. I don’t─I’m glad I still have them for a bit, even if it hurts but...sometimes, I think at least the clean break was...easier.”

Andy stays quiet at that, eyes still looking at Nile in the darkness. Nile resists the urge to squirm under those eyes, but she’s not surprised when the urge to elaborate becomes too strong:

“It’s just...before my mom saw us, I didn’t have to wonder how this was affecting everyone. No contact, stay out of Chicago for another fifty years, maybe a little more, and that was it. It hurt, but at least the path was clear. Now I keep wanting to call her not knowing if I should. I have to use fake names to tell her about the most important people in my life, who she’ll never meet─I’m making her lie to her best friend!”

On the other side of the room, Nicky snorts in his sleep, and Nile smiles through her anguish as it morphs into a soft snore.

“They’ve been friends since elementary school, you know,” Nile tells Andy when she’s sure Nicky isn’t waking up. “They tell each other everything, and now my mom has to lie to her because of me. I don’t know how she can bear it.”

She pauses, breathing through the sudden tightness in her throat, and concludes:

“I don’t know how long she’ll bear it.”

Andy hums.

“I don’t have any advice for you Nile,” she says eventually. “I don’t really remember how that went for me, it’s been too long. But...even now, sometimes I─it’s hard, living without your family. Even at my age.”

“I...I didn’t know you felt like that,” Nile admits. “I thought you’d grown past that.”

“I don’t think we’re meant to,” Andy says. “I can’t remember what my parents looked like, or what it was like to be a child...but I do know what it’s like to want someone else to take care of your shit for a while.”

Nile grins, surprised into a light laughter that’s almost a giggle. Sometimes it’s easy to forget Andy is as human as any of them, even if she’s the oldest person on Earth. Discovering moments of relatability is always a delight and a relief all at once.

“I know we’re not your mom or your family,” Andy says after a while, the smile fading from her voice as she grows more serious, “and we’re not trying to be. But you’re─I won’t get angry if we’re not enough. You don’t have to...to hide it from me. You don’t have to stay alone and just...assume. There’s been too much of that lately.”

Nile can’t see Andy’s face in the darkness, not when her eyes aren’t angled to catch the moonlight, but it’s not hard to guess where she’s looking. In the doorway, Nile can see the outline of Booker’s seat, one hand dangling over the armrest─bottle free for the second night in a row, though there’s still an empty glass nearby on the floor.

“What I mean,” Andy says, startling Nile again, “is that you don’t have to be ashamed if we’re not what you want or need. The fact that you value your family isn’t a weakness, or a flaw. Just because we’ve─just because most of us grew out of it doesn’t mean you’re wrong for still needing more time, especially when it’s so recent. This...I didn’t tell him that, and I should have, so now I’m telling you. Not to protect us, but because it’s true.”

“Thanks, Andy,” Nile says.

“Sure. Now go to sleep,” Andy orders fondly.

Nile snorts, gives Andy a light punch in the shoulder, and turns over to go to sleep.

[mrslittletall]

Title: Hunters of the Abyss (Chapter 1) Fandom: Made in Abyss/Bloodborne Characters: Laurenc, Gehrman, Micolash, Rom, Maria, Master Willem Word Count: 4.561 AO3-Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32531749/chapters/80689318

Summary: On the island Belouska, in the middle of the town Orth, lies a gigantic chasm filled with precious relics and dangerous beasts as well as a mysterious curse, only known as the Abyss.

Many have ventured into the Abyss, but not everybody came back. This is one of the tales about the Abyss, in which a group of delvers takes the challenge to brave the Abyss... and maybe turn from the hunted to the hunters.

(Author's note: This is a crossover, so I wrote up a neat little FAQ which can be found at the end of the chapter. If you have questions, please look there first. I may update it when more questions arise.

Now onto this one: I watched Made in Abyss in 2020 and fell in complete and utter love with the world. Just one year prior I played through Bloodborne and well, these two fandoms had to meet! I planned for this fic for quite some time, but being busy with various writing challenges and the pandemic happening, stuff got postponed and postponed until I finally found the time to sit down and write chapter one.

The characters in this chapter are still children, but they will grow up into adults over the timespan of the fic. There will be quite a few time skips actually. The first few chapters will mainly be world building and exposure.

Last but not least, this is both Made in Abyss and Bloodborne, so be prepared for some soul crushing angst and dark stuff happening. Just... nothing will happen to children. Other than Tsukushi, I prefer to torture adults and older teenagers.

So our protagonists are safe... for now...

If you enjoyed this, please don't hesitate leaving me a comment. Both BB and MiA are tiny fandoms, so I don't expect that this will get much attention, so knowing that someone enjoyed it will be all the much sweeter.)

„Laurence, breathe!“

The boy called Laurence took a deep breath, not even having realized that he had held his breath in the first place.

“Sorry, Gehrman.”, he gasped out. “I am... nervous.”

“Of course, it's your first time.”, Gehrman said, glancing over to the group of Red Whistles which had gathered around their appointed Moon Whistle, which they all called Master Willem. Laurence' gaze followed Gehrman's. The children in front of Master Willem were all orphans from the Balchero Orphanage, like Laurence himself. The only difference was, that all of them already had gone delving at least once, while it was the first time for Laurence. He had only recently turned ten.

“Every Red Whistle gets nervous when they delve for the first time. You don't have to worry too much about going down, though, it's going up that should concern you. Speaking of going, it appears we are moving.”

“Right, the curse.”, Laurence wrinkled his nose at the thought as he started to walk alongside Gehrman. He of course knew all the effects of the curse of every single layer, but he hadn't experienced them personally. Yet. “Dizziness and nausea for the first layer.”

“Correct. And I bet with you that you have to puke on your way up, I haven't seen a single first timer who hasn't.”, Gehrman grinned at him. Laurence just gave him a look.

“I even manage to get sick without any curse affecting me, so that bet doesn't exactly feel fair.”, he said, crossing his arms. “And I certainly won't get into any competitions. You are two years older than me and used to the curse of the first layer already.”

“True.”, Gehrman said. “But before you know it, you will be twelve as well and be allowed to go deeper into the Abyss. Before we both know it, we will be fifteen and be able to turn into Blue Whistles. Time started to move much faster once I was allowed to delve.”

“Or we could die a horrible death down there.”, Laurence said, looking down at his feet. He was wearing the standard delver boots. Every Red Whistle was wearing the standard delving gear, consisting of leather pants, a vest, gloves, said boots and a helmet. Laurence didn't wear the helmet on his head though, but instead it was clasped behind it. He disliked how it flattened his locks of auburn hair. He had tried so hard to preserve his hairdo once he tried on the delver gear, but to no avail.

“Are you thinking about your parents?”, Gehrman asked, making Laurence stop in his tracks, but not for long, as Gehrman pushed him along so that they wouldn't lose sight of the group in front of them.

“...Is it that obvious?”, Laurence looked at the ground next to him, not feeling like he wanted to look into Gehrman's eyes. “I always wished they could come with me to my first delving...”

“I know, we all wished our parents could have come with us.”, Gehrman said, laying a hand on Laurence' shoulder. “We all know how you feel...”

The both of them fell silent after this exchange. Laurence' parents had both been delvers, Black Whistle's even and he always had been eager for the day he was old enough to earn his red whistle and go on his first delve. However, that day never came, because around three months before his tenth birthday, Laurence got the message that they had died on their latest delve.

He had gotten a warm welcome in the Balchero Orphanage where almost every child of delvers landed sooner or later, but the pain of their recent passing was still strong. He really really had wanted for them to be around on his first delve.

Laurence had the feeling that was why Gehrman had decided to come with him even though he was allowed to go deeper already. The older boy had a certain fondness for Laurence and the two of them soon had become friends. He also had befriended a few of the other children, a boy named Micolash, who had a face like a gremlin and deep black hair which were messy curls, a girl named Maria which wore a beautiful white ponytail and a girl named Rom, with tan skin and straight black hair. Laurence always had the feeling that Micolash seemed to like her. Gehrman, as the oldest of their group, held them together and was kind of an older brother to the four children. All of them were heading down on that delve today.

“That's why I am nervous.”, Laurence suddenly said.

“Huh?”, Gehrman put his attention back on Laurence, clearly not having expected for him to speak again so soon.

“Nervous about going down here. I have dreamed my whole life about this day. The image of the Abyss is pretty much my first memory. I always wanted to come down here and see it with my own eyes, but now that it happened, I can't help but be nervous. Of course I knew that delvers died in here, but... that never was something that should happen to someone close to me...”

Gehrman came closer to Laurence and patted his shoulder. “Laurence, once we stop, I have to show you something. I am sure it will put your mind at ease. But for now, how about you stop looking at the ground and look at what is right in front of you?”

Laurence finally released his gaze from his boots and once he saw what was in front of him, he almost lost his breath again.

The Abyss... it was nothing short but beautiful. He saw green grass and lush vegetation, in the distance he could see a river flowing through the netherworld. There were little animals scurrying around between flowers of fortitude, butterflies landing on them, collecting their nectar. Even though Orth was covered in these same flowers, their sight never stopped being beautiful. Laurence wondered if the flower came from the Abyss or if it had taken hold in the Abyss. It was common for them to throw their petals into the Abyss alongside the ashes of the deceased.

“Beautiful.”, he said, not knowing where to look first. He had been so caught up in his own head that he had completely forgotten to enjoy the experience.

“As soon as I saw it for the first time, I knew it was worth coming down here.”, Gehrman smiled at him. Then, the group in front of them stopped.

“Ah, it seems we have arrived.”, Gehrman said and then pushed Laurence' helmet onto his auburn hair. “You are supposed to wear the helmet on your head, not behind it.”

“I don't like the helmet.”, Laurence grumbled, adjusting it so that it would fit better.

“Well, better having some messed up hair than being dead from a stray rock.”, Gehrman shrugged. “You get used to it. Also, there is a glowstone embedded into it, it will help you when it gets dark.”

“Alright.”, Laurence said, stopping as well once he and Gehrman had reached the group. His gaze fell on Master Willem. He looked already very old, but apparently was still fit enough to come with them into the Abyss. When Laurence asked Gehrman about him, Gehrman told him that Master Willem always had looked old. Seeing that a delver with such an advanced age still existed, made Laurence feel a little bit better.

Master Willem looked them over, silently taking stock if every child under his care was still there and then spoke to the group: “Everyone's here? Good. Most of you have already been down here once, so you can continue like the last time. Laurence, it's your first time, so you stay with Gehrman today. I am here if any of you have any questions. Remember, we search for relics. Keep out of the danger zones and don't go out of sight. Don't eat outside of the assigned breaks, come tell me if you need a bathroom break and don't go up on your own.”

A combined “Understood, Master Willem.” sounded from the children's throats and then everyone was off. Laurence kept standing where he was, unsurely looking at Gehrman.

“So... what do we do now?”, he asked.

“First, I will show you what I talked about earlier.”, Gehrman said and took Laurence' hand, guiding him a few steps away until they stood next to the wall of the Abyss. There, Gehrman laid Laurence' hand on the wall.

“Your parents died here, in the great chasm. This means, they have become a part of it now. While their physical bodies aren't there anymore, their souls will be with you each time you go down into the Abyss. Go on, ask them for their blessing.”

Laurence felt the cool stone wall under his hand. That was the Abyss, a part of it... his parents had died in here. Their souls went back into the Abyss. He knew that. It was how Orth functioned, what Orth believed. He heard that other countries believed in something like a god, some figure in the heavens that they never saw and he never got it. Why did they believe in something that they couldn't see?

The Abyss was there, it was tangible, he could touch it. In fact, he touched it right at this moment. At this moment, Laurence felt a connection. It felt like everyone who had entered this place was in unison with him. That also had to include his parents. He wondered if they could hear him, but he would never find out if he wouldn't try.

“Mom... Dad... please watch over me.”, he whispered, opening his eyes, seeing how Gehrman smiled at him.

“And now we can start our delve.”, he said. “Follow me, I will show you how it works.”

Laurence followed Gehrman, always having questions on his mind. He probably should just spill them, no reason to stay silent. “Master Willem told us that we should tell him if we need a bathroom break.”, he started. “Why?” Wouldn't it be fine to just find a corner to duck down into?

“Ah, we are not supposed to leave his sight.”, Gehrman answered. “And he has to know where we are when we are under his care. We are also supposed to take a partner with us, so that the other can keep watch. It's how it works down here, you get used to it.”

“Hm, makes sense...”, Laurence said. “And we are forbidden from eating anything, other than when a break is called? What about drinking?”

“You are allowed to drink just fine, but we shouldn't eat outside of the designated breaks, because it can make us a bit sluggish. We are supposed to all take a little break after eating and it is easier when we all eat at the same time. Besides, sometimes new Red Whistles find food in the Abyss and eat it without thinking... and well, not everything is safe to eat.”

Laurence shuddered a bit at the thought of actually eating something poisonous. Yeah, he should stay away from anything that was unknown to him.

“Do you have any more questions or can we start delving?”, Gehrman asked, standing in front of what looked like a loose stone wall.

“Well, besides from what we are supposed to do, no, I guess.”, Laurence said, fidgeting with his fingers.

“It's easy enough.”, Gehrman smiled, getting a pickaxe out of his rucksack. “We search for loose stone structures like this and break it down.” Gehrman demonstrated his words with a wide swing of the pickaxe and soon it crumbled, revealing a small cave beneath it. “Then we get into it and search for anything that looks like a relic.”

Laurence just stood there when the wall crumbled, now very much knowing why they were supposed to wear the helmet. That would hurt a lot when stray debris would hit him. After a minute or so, he silently followed Gehrman into the little cave, his glowstone providing him with a small light source.

“And that is why the helmets are so useful.”, Gehrman said, turning to Laurence and putting something that looked like a vase or something into his hands. “Look for anything that doesn't look natural or simply unusual. The more relics we find, the better. They give us more allowance the more we can unearth.”

“I am sometimes amazed that we still can find relics...”, Laurence said, getting on his knees and searching through the rubble. “Wasn't the Abyss discovered 1.900 years ago?”

“Yes, but that doesn't mean that Orth existed that long.”, Gehrman said, his trained eyes scanning the bottom of the cave with ease and soon he had a second relic located which went into his rucksack. “Besides, all the good stuff has already been found. All we unearth is trash. Valuable trash though.”

“Hm, I guess...”, Laurence shrugged, getting a bit frustrated with searching the rubble. If anything had been in there, it probably had been smashed to bits.

“Laurence, don't search the entrance, come deeper into the cave.”, Gehrman said. “You rarely find relics at the entrance.”

“Oh alright.”, Laurence was more than glad to get away from the rubble and he wandered to Gehrman's place, searching in the opposite direction of him. When he saw something glistening in the wall, he approached it with a vague hope, but instead a yelp escaped him when he saw that it was a human skeleton!

“Laurence, is everything alright?”, Gehrman came over to him and once he saw the skeleton, he was quick to calm him down. “Oh don't worry about those, this is a praying skeleton, they are apparently 2.000 years old. Isn't that fascinating?”

“But... the Abyss was only discovered 1.900 years ago...?”, Laurence repeated his earlier statement, still a bit shaking.

“That doesn't mean that it hasn't existed for longer, don't you think?”, Gehrman said, his smile in the vague light of the glowstone looking more creepy than reassuring. Laurence shook his head and then got up. “I think I want to get out of this cave...”

“Come on, Laurence, you are getting used to the sight. There are still relics to find in here. How about you come over and help me with searching?”

Laurence looked back at the skeleton, then to the cave exit, which wasn't even far away, the cave actually was more of a little alcove in the wall, and then nodded, walking over to Gehrman. “I just didn't think my first find in here would be human bones...”, he murmured.

“Nobody expects to find them at first. I should have warned you, sorry.”, Gehrman patted Laurence' shoulder and then pointed at the floor. “Now, help me find anything unusual that you can see.”

“Alright.”, Laurence kneeled down, glad that the thick leather of his pants protected his knees and observed the floor. A few minutes later, he had several round and flat things in his hands, that clearly weren't rocks.

“I found something.”, he said. “I think...”, he then added, suddenly feeling a bit self conscious about his find. As Gehrman put his attention on him, he showed it to him. “What could that be?”

“Currency maybe?”, Gehrman suggested, looking at the relics. “There once must have been a civilisation in here, they probably used it to pay for wares and stuff.”

“Hm, makes sense.”, Laurence said, putting the “coins” in his own rucksack. “It doesn't seem to be very valuable though.”

“Like I said, most stuff in here is trash anyway. You will rarely find something good. And if, then don't even think about keeping it.” Gehrman let something fall in his own rucksack. It looked like a statue of some kind. Maybe for rituals or anything?

“What happens if we keep relics?”, Laurence asked, curious. He knew they weren't supposed to keep relics, but he never had asked what the punishment for it would be.

“Then the punishment will be worse than being hanged naked.”, Gehrman said, rather casually, as Laurence' face fell. He still had nightmares sometimes about the time a prank on Master Willem had gone too far and this had been his punishment, it had been the peak of uncomfortableness and humiliation... and they had a punishment that was even worse than that?! He didn't want to find out about it.

“Yes, so make sure to deliver all of your relics. We are taking stock of them anyway.”, Gehrman said as he saw the drained colour from Laurence' face.

“Understood.”, Laurence said and quietly kept searching, filling his rucksack with a bit more odds and ends that looked like someone's dinnerware. Maybe it was. If there were skeletons that were 2.000 years old in the Abyss, then why not their homes as well?

After he and Gehrman had cleared out the cave, which had taken far longer than expected, it was already time for their lunch break, as Master Willem was rallying them up to take a break and eat what they had brought along. The problem was that Micolash wasn't making any advances to come and sit down with them.

“That oddball again.”, Laurence sighed, getting up when Micolash still didn't move even though Master Willem had called his name three times already. “I better drag him over here.”

“Do what you must.”, Gehrman said, knowing that Laurence kind of could connect with Micolash, he always had been the odd one of the group and only when Laurence had arrived at the orphanage had he managed to get out of his shell.

“Micolash, what are you doing?”, Laurence said, stopping next to his friend, feeling a bit dizzy when he noticed that Micolash stood at the edge of a rather steep cliff and was staring down into it.

Micolash raised his head, slowly, almost looking creepy and stared at Laurence. Then, he opened his mouth and said: “If you stare in the Abyss, does the Abyss stare back?”

What? Laurence felt a bit at a loss at what to reply to this question, when Rom spoke and shouted over to them: “If you want to get swallowed up, then stare in the Abyss, otherwise head over finally, so that we can finally eat!”

Laurence heard both Gehrman and Maria giggle at Rom's statement and couldn't help but grin himself at it, while Micolash actually looked... a bit embarrassed. Maybe. It was hard to tell.

“You will understand one day.”, he murmured as he finally got into motion. “All of you will understand one day.”

“What, that staring into the maw of the netherworld is making you speak in riddles?”, Rom was at it again and the children around her started to giggle again, as Micolash glared at her a bit.

While Laurence had a hard time to suppress his own giggling, he said: “She's just teasing you, Micolash, that's all.” Though he had to agree with Rom mostly, the Abyss couldn't stare back if you stared into it. It didn't have any eyes, right? ...Right? Suddenly, Laurence wasn't too sure about it anymore. He should stop thinking about it and finally eat.

Laurence joined the group and sat down on a rock, eagerly unpacking his lunch. This morning had been a special day, not only because it was his first delve, but also because that meant that he could eat rice for the first time in his life. Orth, as a city on an island, had to import rice and therefore it had turned into a delicacy and was a food that only delvers were allowed to eat, at the day they went to delve into the Abyss, because it could be their least meal and they deserved to have something special then.

Gehrman had prepared the rice into rice balls, a simple dish with salt and alga and it had been one of the most awesome things Laurence had ever tasted, even though Gehrman told him that was one of the simplest forms in which rice could be prepared. He actually had to be stopped from overeat himself, so he had taken the leftovers with him and was now happily munching on it, enjoying the taste of the food he did had to admire from afar for so many years.

As Laurence was enjoying his food, he could hear Gehrman talk. As he put his attention on him, he saw Gehrman sitting next to Maria. Apparently he was asking the girl questions and she was answering them. Laurence slid a little bit closer to overhear their conversation.

“And what are these insects called?”, Gehrman asked, pointing at something in the grass, sitting on top of a flower of fortitude. Laurence' eyes sparkled when he saw the butterfly, far bigger than the ones in Orth and with sparkly wings.

“It's a crystal wing.”, Maria answered. “Their wings sparkle like this because of the sun that gets reflected from the forcefield. They try to dazzle predators with them.”

“Correct.”, Gehrman said. Laurence still had his eyes on the crystal wing, what a beautiful creature, when suddenly a lizard-like animal appeared out of nowhere and had the butterfly in its mouth. Nothing short but shocked, Laurence lowered the half eaten rice ball, feeling as if his food got stuck in his throat.

“And this?”, Gehrman asked, both his and Maria's eyes on the lizard.

“A stalking lizard.”, Maria replied. “Always attacks from the shadows, seemingly from nowhere, the prey won't even know what killed it. Insects are its favoured food.”

“The Abyss sure is cruel...”, Laurence mentioned from his spot, still not feeling able to keep eating on.

“It's something you will get used to.”, Gehrman said. “At least we are not part of their diet. Actually the stalking lizards can be quite tasty, if you manage to catch them. Dastardly fast though.”

“One time I thought I had one and only had the tail in my hand.”, Maria said. “And they can even get rid of their legs if they please. They can grow all their limbs back without trouble.”

“Sadly, only the meat that isn't extremities is palatable.”, Gehrman added.

“I see...”, Laurence said. He knew that they sometimes got meat from the Abyss in the orphanage to eat, but nobody actually had ever told him what exactly it was they were eating. He wondered if he had maybe eaten these lizards already.

“Do you want to know more about the creatures of the first layer, Laurence?”, Gehrman asked. “I was just testing if Maria remembered everything I told her. Feel free to join us and listen in.”

“Gladly.”, Laurence said and got up to sit closer to them. As he ate the rest of his rice ball and washed it down with some water, he listened to Gehrman and Maria going over various creatures of the first layer, the different insect species, the well known hammer beaks, a little rodent that was pretty much harmless, but could mess with trying to steal the smaller relics, the trouts that could be caught in the underground river and many more. He knew that a lot of the creatures in the Abyss actually were still unnamed, but he was sure that the first layer probably had a pretty complete encyclopedia of the wild life.

After they all had eaten, Gehrman pointed out that it was the perfect time for taking a bathroom break before they continued with their work, so they did exactly that, with Micolash, Gehrman and Laurence being one group and Maria and Rom the other. Laurence found it made sense that the boys and girls would try to stay apart from each other during it.

Then, they continued what they were doing before lunch break, with Master Willem having a vigilant eye on all of them. Laurence stayed near Gehrman and absorbed everything that his friend could tell him about the Abyss and about delving in general. At the end of the day, both of their rucksacks were filled with various relics that looked like they were just common household objects. While Gehrman kept insisting that it only was trash, Laurence knew that even the trash could be sold for a high price into foreign countries. It was how Orth managed to stay so wealthy.

“You did well today, children.”, Master Willem said as they all presented their finds. “We will rate all of your finds back at the orphanage. The better you managed, the deeper you will be allowed into the Abyss. We were only 50 metres deep today.”

“Understood.”, the children replied in unison. Laurence was pretty excited. After he had seen what was pretty much the beginning of the Abyss, he already was eager to see more. But first... first they had to get back up.

Which meant that he would experience the curse for the first time.

You will puke., Gehrman had said and as much as Laurence wanted to believe that it wouldn't happen, how bad could a little dizziness be...

The moment they had started to go upwards though, he had been hit by the worst dizziness in his life. That wasn't any usual dizziness... his head hurt, his vision seemed to swim, he actually had trouble seeing clearly and that alone was bad enough so that his stomach was revolting from the mixed signals his body gave. Laurence had to clasp a hand in front of his mouth, trying so hard to swallow down the bile that tried to force its way out, but had to give up after only a minute or two and retched on the ground, being on both his hands and knees while it happened, heavily breathing at the unpleasant sensation.

He felt a hand on his shoulder and when he looked up, tears in his eyes from the burning in his throat, he saw Gehrman smiling at him. “You will get used to it.”, he said and offered Laurence a hand which he took. “But for now get used to throwing up once you ascend. At least you are not the only one.”

Gehrman gestured at the other kids and Laurence felt a tiny bit better when he saw that Micolash pretty much experienced the same fate as him.

Still, he would be more than glad once he wouldn't have to throw up anymore after going up, but he had the feeling that would take quite a while.

After they had fully ascended and the awful feeling of the curse slowly vanished, Master Willem led them back to the orphanage where they were supposed to rest and then tally up their finds. Laurence could only think about one thing though.

It had been his first delve and he had returned alive. And still, he couldn't wait to go down into the Abyss a second time.

It truly had a fascinating aura around it, it was as if he was drawn to it.

The second delve couldn't come fast enough. (FAQ:

1) I have never played Bloodborne? Will I still understand this fic?

This fic takes place in the world of Made in Abyss. I simply put some Bloodborne characters into the world of Made in Abyss and act like if they had grown up here. There will be a ton of Bloodborne references though, but you don't have to have played the game to understand the plot I am going for. And the characters... we know very little about them, so they are basically 80 to 90 % OCs, so you can just see them as OCs if you please.

2) I have never watched Made in Abyss? Will I still understand this fic?

I strongly advise to be familiar with Made in Abyss for this fic, for it takes place in the world of Made in Abyss. You don't have to be familiar with the plot though, for I am going for a completely different plot detached from the canon of the anime/manga.

I will do my best to explain the world building though, which is 50 % canon and 50 % my own. Anyone familiar with the canon feel free to point out where my headcanons took place.

3) Will characters from MiA show up?

Any MiA characters will likely only be cameos, for I want to focus on the life of the Bloodborne characters here. Don't expect that anyone of the MiA characters has a very huge role. They will more be mentioned in passing and appear for short whiles, but never play a big role.

4) When does this fic take place? Is it during the canon timeline of MiA?

NOPE. This fic takes place before the canon of the manga/anime. During the first chapter, Riko hasn't even been born yet. This first chapter takes place around 20 to 25 years before canon and even after the characters grew up, there won't be much overlap, if any.

5) Why are you using the Old Hunter characters?

Because they are my favs, haha ^^ I have a lot of headcanons about them and they work best for the story I have in mind.

6) Laurence as POV character? Really?

Yep, because he's my ultra FAV. Truth to be told, I actually made up this AU so that I could roleplay Laurence in an MiA verse, but I liked the idea so much that I wanted to make a whole fic out of it.

7) Why did you decide to write a crossover of these two things?

When I watched Made in Abyss, I saw Bloodborne at every corner. Then I thought up Laurence' MiA verse and then... well, I read an interview from Tsukushi himself and he actually said that Bloodborne was one of his big inspirations for Made in Abyss! Speak about coincidences!) Chapter 2

[mxpseudonym]

This time someone did ask! @cactisjuice (I can never tag you?! Also is this a Sokka reference?) asked me to elaborate on my feelings that Peaky Blinders doesn't have good writing and why I'm on the fence about watching season 6.

First I want to say this: I really appreciate that, at the time, PB was the first show I'd actually sat and watched in a while and being part of the fandom pulled me out of a depressive spiral. Also, while I think some of the characters are generally attractive, I don't simp over any of them. I just... feel like that contributes to my ability to be more objective.

Alright, my thoughts: 2020 hit and I realized how important diversity is to me and my standards for the content got really high. You might remember when I went to do a Peaky Blinders rewatch a long time ago but I ended up not making it through the first season.

That's when I realized Steven Knight isn't trying to be progressive or really make a statement with this show. Nothin you can really do about that 🤷🏾‍♀️

Still, my grievances:

1. Something about the depiction of oppression in this show just doesn't sit right with me.

Maybe it's because everyone is white except for I think three people (four if you include the child they mentioned was being mistreated by nuns). "But the Shelbys are Romani." Yes, and the actors for them are all white. So what we see is a lot of white characters being oppressed, while the Black and Jewish characters are sort of an aside.

And because the show isn't trying to be progressive, it just depicts things without a real moral to them. Like season 5 just never sat well with me, especially when you have Alfie and an entire Jewish community in the show. I would have rather them just not go that route.

Also, it was US election season and you want to ambiguously take on fascism when there were/are clear signs of T**mp having international influence? 😬Okay, Steven.

Probably got more viewers though.

2. The writing for women is just so unforgivably poor that even at Peak fandom, I genuinely had to watch the show in spite of how the women are written.

**Honestly, those two alone are enough for me to just bounce. But I'll add in my most controversial, most 100000% preference-based statement:

3. When a show with a continuing narrative has seasons as short as 6 episodes each, I feel like there's even more of a need for the thread throughout to be super clear. You have no time for filler, and everything needs to be intentional. Season 6 is our last chance to see where this is going and what the story Steven's been trying to tell is.

Tommy is the main character, almost forcibly so. Yet, at this point, he's had no arc. He's not learned a damn thing. He's worsened his relationships with family. I don't even really know what he wants anymore. Tommy seems like he's going unhinged, which is fine, but we have six episodes left. I cannot think of an ending that would make me go, "wow, they really spent five seasons setting this up." And I'm gonna be real, I don't have faith that Steven Knight's writer's room is gonna prepare something beyond my imagination.

BUT

I'm so close to the finish I may just watch anyway. I'm marginally interested in seeing what's happening with Michael.

[officialinuyasha]

Analysis on Sesshoumaru and Rin's relationship

Sesshoumaru and Rin's relationship to almost all in the Japanese fandom as romantic when Rin comes of age for that time period. Not only do those fans see them as what Americans call it a "Canon" couple but they are well aware of poly-amorous relationships widely accepted back in that time and era. Like how Inu no Taishou (Touga-Ou) had two wives. Where Sesshoumaru's mother was well aware of the human wife and was unphased nor appeared to be jealous. Only hinting Sesshoumaru's taste in humans (about Rin) like his father with Izayoi.

Western Culture VS Eastern Culture

Atleast 20% of the American fandom in my group while it was closed (that means members only) voted SessKagura when I ran the poll in 2019. It was 64 votes and Sesshoumaru romantic with adult Rin had 126 votes.

In a Fanpop poll SessRin had 61% and SessKagura had 39%

While I ran the poll again in 2020 as public and shared it across multiple Western fan groups which is less genuine data I had to check each profile to ensure the votes were genuine (haters tend to happen in any given anime coupling) They are able to vote even though they weren't members. This time I specifically labeled it "Romantic" or "Parental". The results within just a few hours were what I had expected. The romantic portion still surpasses the parental choice.

American Fandom VS Japanese Fandom

The American fandom majority is mostly accepting of Rin being with Sesshoumaru of age. However, the fraction that is more towards him being parental is far more than what the Eastern fandom thinks.

Two administrators of a 13,000 plus members group called Sinosphere (Eastern culture) have both spoken to me about the differences in views.

One stated (Esther Xiao) "I have never heard of this issue ever until I joined the American fandom. I've known about the gift that Rin recieves at the end of the series as an act of courting."

The second admin Hiroyuki said the Japanese viewed Sesshoumaru and Rin easily as a couple of when of age. Courting being much differently than Western and the fact of it's time period.

"Contemporary courtship in Japan is more subtle than dating in the United States. The blossoming of a relationship from friendship to marriage can take years. The relationship begins as friendship, with dates taking place only in public places, typically with groups of friends present. Public displays of affection are frowned upon. The next stage is dating only as a couple, which is done discreetly. Women typically withhold displays of extreme affection and proclamations of love until she deems her suitor is sincere. When the relationship enters the stage of magkasintahan, which means the status of boyfriend and girlfriend, the couple typically makes an announcement to friends and family members, with the suitor asking for parental permission to pursue the relationship.

The man typically brings gifts when visiting the family.”

Source: https://datingtips.match.com/courtship-japan-13196896.html

Sesshoumaru stops by to visit Rin and Kaede, often giving her gifts. The kimonos are gifts representing courtship. Kaede’s is Rin’s family

An extra unaired episode was released on an audio CD only in Japan when you pre-ordered the Final Act. Where Sesshoumaru proposes to Rin. It takes place right after the Final Act’s last episode and it’s called “The Day After Tomorrow”

Rin, are you finding life in the village okay?

No one is bullying you, right?

Are you wearing the kimono that I gave you last time?

If you ever find yourself in danger, sad or depressed, no matter when, as long as you call this Sesshomaru, I will instantly run to your side.

Even if we are far from one another, as long as you call my name, I will immediately fly to you. If not shouting, you can whistle loudly or silently.

There is no distance between us, our hearts are tied together. The power of trust will win over any fear. And that affection between us is also what makes our hearts more abundant and enriched.

Therefore, you can just be yourself right now. There is enough time for me to look forward in you finding your feelings for me. Prior to this, take care of yourself……

About the CD - No, it does not have a Satire label on it from what we looked at. It  just says Asatte which means Day After Tomorrow. If you want to consider it bloopers that’s up to you. But yes, the producers and animators ship them. It is an officially licensed disc.

"Canon"

To Westerners, Canon was a term invented by the Bible.

"a collection or list of sacred books accepted as genuine" To Westerners nothing else is canon except Manga.

In Japan, including the Dragon Ball Z timeline and continuity - Westerners argue that anything in their perspective that is canon is law and real/what happens. The creator of the series himself, Akira Toriyama never used these terms when it came to GT, in fact anything Westerners argued "Canon". Akira Toriyama would state that it would be apart of a side story.

"If you are able, along with me, to enjoy watching the original Dragon Ball's grand side-story Dragon Ball GT, you will be pleased."

Source: https://www.kanzenshuu.com/forum/viewtopic.php?t=5411

Still very much considered genuine by the Japanese just in a different continuity.

In Japan, Canon is not a term used. If something happens in an anime series it still happens regardless separate reality or not based on storyline. Unless a creator decides to make something in the future that erases the event from a timeline.

Even when Akira Toriyama was re-desigining Broly to fit into the Super series, here’s what he had to say -

“I went ahead and watched the movies from back then, and I felt this could be quite interesting once I rearrange some things. I got right to work trying my hand at a story that incorporates him into the Dragon Ball Super series.”

Source: https://comicbook.com/anime/2018/07/09/dragon-ball-super-movie-broly-canon-akira-toriyama-anime/

Star Wars Canon arguments...

Here's where American perspective on Canon fails. If a creator sells of the rights for anyone to use their character in an agreement they are allowed to twist the perspective on story reality. Disney bought the rights to Star Wars and the creator has absolutely no say whatsoever. Disney decides what is "Canon" and what isn't. That is why Americanized "Canon" is solely based on perspective.

Let's be real here, if something is officially licensed and approved it is still apart of continuity in one way or another no matter how you slice it.

Westerners and Easterners see the world differently

Source (Thanks Mod Esther for supplying)

https://www.newscientist.com/article/dn7882-westerners-and-easterners-see-the-world-differently/

“There is plenty of anecdotal evidence suggesting that Western and East Asian people have contrasting world-views,” explains Richard Nisbett, who carried out the study. “Americans break things down analytically, focusing on putting objects into categories and working out what rules they should obey,” he says.

By contrast, East Asians have a more holistic philosophy, looking at objects in relation to the whole. “Figuratively, Americans see things in black and white, while East Asians see more shades of grey,” says Nisbett. “We wanted to devise an experiment to see if that translated to a literal difference in what they actually see.”

The researchers tracked the eye-movements of two groups of students while they looked at photographs. One group contained American-born graduates of European descent and the other was comprised of Chinese-born graduate students who came to the US after their undergraduate degrees

Each picture showed a striking central image placed in a realistic background, such as a tiger in a jungle. They found that the American students spent longer looking at the central object, while the Chinese students’ eyes tended to dart around, taking in the context"

By rules that some Westerners are raised to follow when it comes to Sesshoumaru and Rin: If you save someone at a young age they are automatically considered your child regardless by blood. Rin was only with Sesshoumaru for one year and with Kaede for three years.

They are also not thinking of the Japanese culture or time period.

Nisbett hopes that his work will change the way the cultures view each other. “Understanding that there is a real difference in the way people think should form the basis of respect.”

Respecting the time period and Japan's culture. Kagome teaches us that in the series.

In the series Miroku proposes to many young girls even Koharu when she was age 11 in Chapter 147 and Episode 41. But she comes back as a 14 year old. 

At first Sango and Kagome were mad thinking Miroku was perverted with her when she was 11. But he tells them that nothing happened between them. They believed him. Sango was also furiously jealous of Koharu! 

Kagome states "Things were way different back then.” Stating her respect for the time period and culture.

Ayame was the same age as Rin when Kouga proposed to her when she was 8 years old. She grew up, and they got married.

InuYasha is 200 and Kagome was 15. She became 18 then they married.

Rumiko Takahashi’s Fire Tripper - There’s time traveling back in forth from Feudal Japan to Modern Era. The boy Shu was brought in with her family and the girl was sent back in time with him where he thinks that’s his little sister. Then as she’s older she’s back in time once more, he wants to make her his wife then realizes she must be his little sister. But she says they aren’t because they are not related by blood. They get married. Pretty much an the same type of pairing.

Age of consent in Japan.

As you know Rin is 8 years old when she is first introduced into the series. 3 years go by and she is 11. Had been living with Kaede for 3 years since Naraku had been defeated. InuYasha states that it's up to her to decide on "what she wants" in the final chapter.

In the proposal Sesshoumaru states that there is enough time for her to decide.

Age of consent in Japan is 13

https://www.ageofconsent.net/world/japan

Back then once you hit puberty that was your adulthood. The world was a much more dangerous place and you had to mature, fast.

The audio episode is officially licensed and produced by the same staff that made the anime but that isn't the only supporting evidence we have that it's accepted by not only the creator and producers.

We actually have the official Adult Rin design.

The character designer and animator for the InuYasha series posted these official artworks of Adult Rin and Sesshoumaru

Rumiko Takahashi wrote strict rules to the animators to follow for each character on what you can/cannot do with them. One of them being, Kagome's skirt must always be covering her underwear.

When you work for a company and produce things you must represent the characters properly so you are not sued. There are rules Rumiko Takahashi gave the animators to properly represent her characters.

To the Japanese, and many Easterners. Sesshoumaru and Rin, InuYasha and Kagome, Ayame and Kouga maturing together - Falling in love with eachother is not an issue.

To a fraction of Westerners it’s led to hate and dis-respect to the time period and Japanese culture. However, even if you don’t like it - Shouldn’t mean you should disrespect one another over it.

--

Just to answer any questions. Yes I like Kagura and Sesshoumaru, or Adult Rin and Sesshoumaru, Kohaku and Rin. But I can care less who he or she ends up with. I don't even care if they really did end up being father and daughter figure. But from how I see it right now from what we have Kaede adopted Rin. If that's different I'm absolutely accepting of it. I also did tons of research, polls, and asked real Eastern Sinosphere members about how they feel and think about it!

All we know right now for fact that the production team like them as a couple and the kids are half demon.

What do I not condone is the name calling and the people who go out of their way to attack others. I think it's absolutely wrong to hate on eachother over a series we should all be family about. I don't go out of my way to search people's blogs to attack them. There are ships I don't like but I never go and attack them for it. Why would I take away from THEIR happiness?

I hope that clears anything up. Thank you for reading!

[wolf08]

Igniting the Fuse

A fic for @zutaraweek

Summary: Zuko can’t stand Katara’s obvious contempt towards him. Determined to fix their relationship, he asks Aang and Sokka for help, who, in turn, devise a series of team building exercises with the intention of sparking friendship between the water bender and the banished Prince. They hadn’t anticipated sparking something more. Pre- (and post-) Southern Raiders. Zutara.  

Available on A03 and FanFiction.net. 

Prompt: Loosely inspired by the prompt “Fuse” (Zutara Week 2020) Genre: Romance/Humour Words: 4293 Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar: The Last Airbender or any of its characters.

A/N: Hi! Please accept my humble offering to the ATLA fandom for Zutara week. :) I’ve only ever written fics for the Naruto verse, but I just finished ATLA last month and have been fangirling about Zutara and the Gaang dynamics ever since. When I learned that Zutara week was just around the corner, I just knew I had to write something. Enjoy. :)  

***

Igniting the Fuse

Now that he was part of the group of vagabond do-gooders (who he used to think were his sworn enemies), Zuko felt a sense of contentment and purpose like he’d never felt before.

It had been an excruciating uphill battle filled with awkward encounters and blows exchanged to finally convince them that he was on their side. But he’d persevered because Zuko just knew he was destined to be here, with them, to support their quest of defeating his father.

Thankfully, in the end, they accepted him.

Well, all except for the water bender, that is.

Katara, the last water bender from the Southern Water Tribe, who had the biggest heart and kindest smile that Zuko had ever seen, utterly despised him.

She made no effort to hide this fact, with how she always sat as far away from him as possible, sneered at his (attempted) jokes, and ignored him point-blank whenever he spoke.

As the Fire Nation’s banished Prince with a prominent scar on his face marking him as such, Zuko wasn’t unfamiliar with this type of treatment. But what made it different with Katara was that (a) she was avoiding him out of pure dislike – not fear (hell, he’d faced her in combat before and knew she could hold her own against him), and (b) it was Katara.

Why did it have to be her who hated him, of all people? She was level-headed, compassionate, and strong, in other words, she was an embodiment of everything that Zuko wished he himself could be.

And, not to mention, she was rather easy on the eyes and nice to be in the presence of (though, of course, Zuko would never dare admit this out loud).

Perhaps the worst part of all of this was that Zuko knew her hatred was justified. After she’d let her guard down in the catacombs of Ba Sing Se by confiding in him and offering to use her few drops of sacred water to heal Zuko’s scar (a gesture that Zuko would never ever forget), Zuko had responded by siding with her enemy and trying to kill her.

So, yeah, Katara had every right not to trust him ever again.

But that didn’t mean Zuko wasn’t going to give it his best shot anyways. After all, he was a changed man now. He was determined to reconcile for his sins. Earning Katara’s trust wasn’t just something he wanted – it was something he needed to fulfill his personal quest for redemption.

Not that Zuko had a clue where to begin.

After numerous fruitless attempts to force an interaction with her around camp like some school boy trying to get a girl’s attention, Zuko realized he needed help fixing his relationship with Katara.

He cast a wistful glance at Katara’s tent before turning towards the sea, where Aang and Sokka were currently fishing.

Zuko sighed and ran a hand through his shaggy, black hair. Despite being a little weird, Aang and Sokka were the most helpful sources of information around, with one of them being Katara’s brother and the other being, well, the Avatar. So he slipped off his shoes, hiked up his pants, and waded out to meet them.

Their fishing tactics were a rather theatrical sight, with Anng literally blowing fish out of the water with some air bending technique and Sokka spearing them as they flung into the air.

Zuko cleared his throat.

Aang, who was wearing nothing but his orange underpants, beamed at the sight of him. “Zuko! Have you come to help us fish?” he asked. “It’s not really my thing, but Sokka needed a hand.”

Zuko shook his head, folded his arms, and proceeded to explain his dilemma. The other boys listened attentively.

“Have you tried being, well, nice to her?” Sokka asked with raised eyebrows. “Katara likes everyone. It shouldn’t be that hard to get on her good side.”

Zuko rolled his eyes. “Of course I’ve tried being nice! But I guess I just suck at it.”

After a moment of deep thought, Aang’s eyes lit up. “I’ve got it!” he said, clapping his hands together. “We’ll do team building exercises to foster trust. When Katara sees that you can trust each other, I’m sure she’ll like you more.”

But Zuko wasn’t entirely convinced. “This isn’t Air Temple preschool, you know,” he grumbled.

“No, no, I think Aang’s onto something here,” Sokka said with a smirk. “No offense dude, but your social skills suck. Structured ice-breakers are exactly what you need.”

“What? My social skills don’t suck!” Zuko shot back, but Sokka just shook his head, still smirking.

Then, in a deep, mocking tone, Sokka said, “Hello! Zuko here. I sent an assassin after you. Can we be friends?”

Aang covered his mouth to stifle a laugh.

Zuko’s eyebrow twitched, his face burning. “Okay, fine. Let’s try your stupid team building then.”

“Great!” said Aang. “Let’s start after lunch. We’ll handle everything Zuko, so don’t you worry about a thing.”

***

In an effort to gain Katara’s support for their day of team building, Aang and Sokka selected an activity that she was sure to enjoy for the first exercise: surfing lessons – an activity that was, quite literally, right in Katara’s element.

It wasn’t a bad idea, Zuko admitted and side-eyeing Katara’s enthusiastic response to Aang’s proposal of the activity. Her blue eyes were brighter than he’d ever seen them.

Shortly after, the four of them, with the additions of Toph and Suki, were gathered around the shore, with the girls in their swimming attire (cropped shirts and shorts for all but Katara, who wore a white skirt overtop) and the boys in their shorts. Then, Sokka explained that there would be no surf boards.

“No surf boards? How’s that supposed to work for surfing?” Toph asked, voicing Zuko’s concerns.

Katara stood, a smile on her face. “I’ll bend the water to make you float – you’ve just got to balance,” she said. Toph raised her eyebrows and crinkled her nose and Zuko made every effort to refrain from making the same face.

The water bender proceeded to demonstrate. With her feet pressed to the rolling waves as if she were on a solid surface, she jumped and glided in a shower of water droplets, her arms outstretched, like she was sliding through snow or sand. In a way, it looked like she was dancing, Zuko observed, and he wondered if he could really do that too, so effortlessly.

The demonstration came to the end and Katara approached the group. “All right – who’s first?” she asked cheerily, while wringing water from her thick, brown hair.

Zuko avoided eye contact.

“I’ll go!” Suki beamed and hopping to her feet.

And said Kyoshi warrior, despite not being a water bender, made it look rather easy too, in Zuko’s opinion, his confidence boosting ever so slightly. Suki jumped and twirled on the water, laughing the entire time, clearly having a blast. Sokka wolf whistled as Suki neared the shore at the end of her turn. She met his eyes and blushed before leaping into his arms with a big smile.

Zuko watched the interaction from the corner of his eye and wondered if he could ever get Katara to feel that comfortable around him.

Yeah right.

Aang went next and he glided over the water with ease (though it was hard to tell if he was truly surfing or floating over the waves with air bending). Even Toph took a short turn, despite her obvious discomfort over being parted with solid ground.

“Zuko’s turn!” Aang exclaimed after everyone had gone, like he was afraid Katara would forget about him.

Zuko caught her gaze and was met with an icy stare. More like she doesn’t want me to have a turn.

He got to his feet and sloshed through the shallow water before turning to the group in anticipation.

With mixed emotions, he noticed that Katara was smiling at him now, her eyes bright once more. What’s with the sudden mood change? he wondered while returning the smile with much hesitation.

Then Katara raised her arms and he was off.

“Whoa!” he gasped, arms outstretched for balance, while the water carried him upwards and backwards, towards the sea. He pivoted and widened his stance for stability, while he adjusted to the strange sensation of a rapidly rolling current against his bare feet, and his total loss of control over where he was going.

Despite this, before long, Zuko began to relax, leaning into the waves’ winding motions, feeling a thrill with each dip and jump, as he climbed higher and higher and farther out to sea.

And then – SPLOOSH!

Like a rug being tugged from beneath his feet, the water supporting Zuko vanished, falling back to the sea – along with said fire bender.

He fell into the water in a rather undignified manner, limbs flailing. When he came up for air, spluttering, to his displeasure, just about everyone was doubled-over laughing.

Zuko gritted his teeth as he swam towards shore, glaring at the mischievous water bender.

“Oops,” she said with a shrug, though she didn’t look the least bit sorry.

Well that was a flop… literally, Zuko thought with a grimace as he trudged along the beach and shook water from his soaked hair.

Aang had the decency to try to look apologetic though tears were streaming down his face.

***

“The next activity better not end like that,” Zuko hissed when the boys regrouped. “How about we try something where she has to trust me this time? Because clearly the other way around doesn’t work.”

“Hm. Maybe you can teach everyone something. What are you good at Zuko?” Sokka asked.

“Fire bending.”

“Well, you can’t exactly teach everyone fire bending.”

“Oh, I know!” Aang piped up. “Zuko isn’t a bad dancer. He nailed the Dancing Dragon formation.”

Zuko dismissed the suggestion immediately. “That wasn’t a dance! And you’re out of your mind if you think I’d ever teach dancing lessons.”

A moment of silence passed while all three boys contemplated their next move.

“It’s probably best if I don’t hire another assassin and like… save her from it. Right?”

“Yes, Zuko. Best we table that idea.”

***

Zuko felt a little more confident about the second activity that Aang and Sokka planned for the group.

“We’re going rock climbing!” Aang exclaimed and gesturing to the ropes and makeshift pulleys he and Sokka had fastened to the cliff side earlier. For the most part, in Zuko’s opinion, this activity far exceeded the last because he and Katara would be on relatively even footing as far as their bending was concerned.

“Everybody partner up!” Sokka instructed. “I call working with Suki!”

“And I call Toph!” Aang shouted, which garnered suspicious looks from both Toph and Katara. “I thought we could work on our teamwork?” he added to the earth bender sheepishly.

Toph smirked. “Whatever you say, Twinkletoes. Gosh, I’m popular, huh?”

Through narrowed eyes, Katara directed her attention to the person she was evidently stuck with.  

Zuko tried his hardest to seem friendly, though he was suddenly uncharacteristically nervous. “You can go first, if you want,” he offered.

Katara lifted an eyebrow. After a moment, she said, “All right then,” and turned towards the cliff, her braided hair flipping over her shoulder as she did.

The rock climbing ensued, with Toph practically flying up the wall while she bended parts of the cliff side to jut out like stairs. Momo was doing quite well himself from a little further down, not even holding onto the rope, though Appa dutifully spotted him anyways.

Despite not having any distinct advantages, Suki flourished in this activity too, scaling the wall like a ninja. “Atta girl, Suki!” Sokka cheered on from below. She responded with a glowing smile at her rock climbing partner.

Zuko turned his attention to his own rock climbing partner, who was faring well, though not quite as well as the other climbers. Her movements were a little clumsy and she clung to the rope and handholds like her life depended on it. After all, with each step she climbed, the water bender ventured farther away from the comfort of the sea behind them.

There was no way Zuko would let her fall though, considering the death grip he had on her rope. He needed to prove he was the most trustworthy rock climbing partner she could ever have.  

Taking a page out of Sokka’s book, Zuko decided to egg his partner on. “You’re doing great!” he called.

Unfortunately, his comment prompted an icy glare. “Are you mocking me?” Katara snapped, as she freed her blue sleeve from a protruding twig that had snagged it.

“No...,” Zuko snarled through gritted teeth.

This is impossible! I can’t even compliment Katara without her getting mad!

She proceeded to climb in silence without sparing him a glance, and Zuko couldn’t think of what to say, so he just sighed and frowned in her general direction.

How on earth was this activity supposed to bring them closer together now?

She’s probably clinging to the rope for dear life because she doesn’t trust me to stop her from falling, Zuko thought with a scowl.

But then he was struck with a brilliant (and morally questionable) idea.

What if Katara’s rope were severed… for some reason… and Zuko caught her?

Now, Zuko was no expert, but saving someone from falling seemed like the ultimate gesture of trust if you asked him.

Surely Aang and Sokka would disprove if Zuko deliberately severed Katara’s rope, but she was maybe only twenty feet up – so surely, even if she did fall, she’d survive.

Before Zuko had properly thought through his plan, he’d sent a barely discernible fireball – no more than a small collection of sparks – up the cliff side. It went undetected by the others, who were focused on their rock climbing tasks.

With the softest of hisses, the fire made contact with the rope about ten feet above Katara’s head. The rope began to fray immediately but no one seemed to notice. Until –

“Whoa!” Katara exclaimed as the rope started to give. She clawed for the nearest handhold and gripped it firmly while looking around with wide eyes.

Now, Zuko thought, dropping the rope and racing towards the cliff.

By now the others were catching on to Katara’s predicament.

“Oh no, careful Katara!” called Aang.

“Hold on!” cried Suki.

“Just drop!” Zuko shouted from below, his arms outstretched. “Don’t worry – I’ll catch you!”

Katara peered down at him, like she was mentally calculating the risk of doing what he asked. When she met his eye, Zuko felt a swell of anticipation for a reason he couldn’t quite place.

Then, something determined entered Katara’s eyes and she directed her gaze beyond him, towards the sea.

The rope snapped and Katara began to fall.

Zuko braced himself for the impact, his arms at the ready.

I won’t let you down!

And then – WHOOSH!

Zuko faced an impact but it wasn’t the one he was expecting.

An aggressive current of water slammed straight into Zuko’s legs, knocking him off his feet.

“What?” he gasped as he lost his footing, toppled sideways, and fell to his back. Spluttering, he watched in disbelief as Katara bended a neat stream of water through the air, stepped into it, and directed it towards the ground to safety. She landed beside Zuko with a splash – soaking him from head to toe.

Katara straightened up and regained her composure, brushing off the front of her blue dress, as the water drifted back out to sea.

She turned to Zuko like she was just noticing him for the first time. “Oh!” she said while extending her hand. “You okay down there?” she asked, eyebrows raised and the slightest mischievous glint in her eye.

Zuko accepted her offer to help him up, but didn’t have it in him to celebrate the kind gesture – he was far too embarrassed and couldn’t meet her eye.

As soon as he was on his feet, he retreated and stomped away. “I’m fine,” he growled while shaking water out of his hair for the second time that day.

***

“The next team building exercise will be different. We’ll use our words this time,” Aang decided during a brief rendezvous with Sokka and Zuko.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Zuko asked, eyebrow raised.

“You’ll see – I’ve got a plan. Just make sure you’re sitting beside Katara when we gather round the campfire after dinner. Trust me.” He patted Zuko’s shoulder and flashed him what he probably thought was a reassuring smile, but given their track record with team building exercises thus far, Zuko didn’t feel so confident.

“Fine,” he said anyways because he didn’t have anything to lose.

***

True to his word, after the sun had set, bellies were full, and Aang had summoned everyone to the campfire, Zuko claimed the spot beside Katara, even though he had to wrestle Toph in the process of squeezing in between them.

Katara gave Zuko a weird look and motioned to get up.

He grabbed her sleeve. “Wait – stay here,” he said before he could think better of it (and immediately regretting the motion).

She startled and opened her mouth to respond, but thankfully, Aang chose that moment to command everyone’s attention and start the activity. Zuko released a breath.

It turned out the activity was rather simple. Each person was required to share a compliment about the person on their right – and once everyone had a turn, they were to repeat the exercise in the other direction.

Zuko was skeptical about the cheesy activity having any effect on his relationship with Katara but he figured he might as well try.

He frowned and glanced at Katara, who was on his right, noticing the firelight dancing in her blue eyes. He would have to share a compliment with her first.

I’ve got one shot so I need to think of something good, Zuko mused while absently bending the flames from the campfire into little loops.

His first thought was to comment on her water bending, which was quite good as far as he’d seen. But would that just remind her of the times she’d used her water bending against him?

Then what could he say about her to get her to like him?

It was Sokka’s turn to pay a compliment to Suki.

He turned to the brunette Kyoshi warrior with a wide smile and an arched eyebrow, and said, smoothly, “Suki, you are as radiant as the sunset.”

Suki’s face lit up and her lips curved into a shy smile. “Oh, Sokka,” she sighed and shoving his arm lightly, in a friendly, teasing manner.

That’s it! That’s the reaction I want from Katara, Zuko thought, his chest tightening at the very prospect of it, but would complimenting her physical appearance have that effect on her? He wasn’t sure.

By the time Zuko tuned back in to the activity, Aang was telling Toph that she was the most terrifying girl he’d ever met.

Zuko watched the exchange in anticipation for surely the earth bender would take offense to the remark. But instead, she punched Aang’s arm and beamed. “Thanks, Twinkletoes!”

Would Katara want to be called terrifying? Honestly, Zuko thought she was the farthest thing from terrifying (unless she was really angry). No, Azula was terrifying. And Katara was… well, not like Azula.  

Toph turned to Zuko next, gazing up at him with a cheeky smile. “Oh, this is easy. Thanks for the entertainment in the water today. I haven’t laughed that hard in weeks!”

Zuko bristled with anger for a moment, but when he realized everyone was chuckling, and he remembered that he would much rather them find him funny than evil, he swallowed his pride and smiled. “You’re welcome,” he mumbled.

“Okay, Zuko’s turn!” Aang prompted, and then, suddenly, everyone was starting at him expectantly.

Zuko swallowed. “Okay,” he said before turning towards Katara, whose arms were folded and was watching him from the corner of her eye.

Here goes, Zuko thought. He said the first thing that popped into his head, inspired by Sokka’s earlier success.

“You’re… as beautiful as the… ocean?”

Now, Zuko wasn’t sure what reaction he was expecting, but, strangely, no one seemed to react at all. In fact, the entire group was eerily silent, their eyes trained on him, including Katara’s.

Suddenly, Zuko felt nervous. I did something wrong, didn’t I?

He turned towards Sokka for support, but only then, to Zuko’s horror, did he notice that Sokka and Suki’s hands were clasped together.

Is Suki his… girlfriend?

That hadn’t occurred to Zuko, honestly. He’d dismissed the idea because surely Suki was too good for the guy.

But maybe he was wrong. Maybe they were so close because they were dating. And maybe, by mimicking Sokka’s behaviour, Zuko had inadvertently suggested that he wanted to date Katara.  

He felt his face heat up.

I could use some of Uncle’s calming tea right about now.

Then, Katara was on her feet. She avoided eye-contact when she growled, “Really? Don’t have anything to say about my abilities, do you? I’m just some damsel in distress to you, huh?”

And then she stormed off, effectively ending the team building exercise. Zuko pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration.

I should have just called her terrifying.

He followed her.

***

Katara was perched on a rock near the ledge of the cliff, overlooking the sea and star-sprinkled night sky. She was hugging her knees and her shoulders were slumped.

Zuko approached with caution. “Hi,” he said when he was within earshot.

Katara glanced at him and turned away quickly.

He sighed.

Why do I suck at everything?

“Um, let me try the compliment thing again,” Zuko mumbled, not sure how much Katara was paying attention to him but going for it anyways. “My uncle taught me how to control lightning using the principles of water bending. I never really thought about water bending much, but since then, and since I saw what you can do, now I appreciate it more. It’s a… beautiful ability. And it’s strong. Like you.

“And that’s… what I’m trying to say.”

Katara glanced at him again, and to his relief, there was something kinder in her eyes.

This encouraged him to continue. “And I’m sorry for everything I did before. Please tell me how to make it up to you because I’m trying but I don’t know what I’m doing.”

After a moment, Katara’s lips curled into the smallest of smiles. She turned towards the sea. “You could reconquer Ba Sing Se in the name of the Earth King. Or bring my mother back,” she said sadly with a humourless chuckle, like what she was proposing was ridiculous. She buried her face into her knees.

Later that evening, after a brief consultation with Sokka about the story of his mother’s death, Zuko made plans for what would end up being the most effective team building exercise yet.

***

Many days later, Zuko found himself standing on a dock overlooking the ocean and a sunset painting the sky a glowing medley of pinks and oranges.

He had just returned to camp after a long trek with Katara to track down her mother’s killer, with the intention of executing revenge, but Katara ended up sparing him in the end – while still finding the closure she needed.

Zuko had learned more about Katara’s motivations and abilities on the trip, including her impressive repertoire of water bending feats.

To put it frankly, Zuko had no shortage of compliments to give her if they ever played that campfire circle game again.

And now that he understood Katara better he was filled with hope that maybe, just maybe, she didn’t hate him anymore. Though he wasn’t completely sure.

Katara was sitting at the end of the dock with her toes dipped in the water. Aang was beside her and speaking about the importance of forgiveness.

She got to her feet and faced the two of them. “Thanks Aang, but I didn’t forgive him. I’ll never forgive him.”

And then she turned towards Zuko, a smile blossoming on her face. Zuko’s breath caught in his throat.

“But you,” she said and drawing closer, “I am willing to forgive.”

Before he knew quite what was happening, Katara pulled him into a tight hug. Zuko was startled at first – hardly able to believe what was happening.

I did it! he thought in awe, thinking back to how envious he had been of Suki jumping into Sokka’s arms on the beach.

He smiled in spite of himself and returned the hug with equal enthusiasm, his heart racing.

But then, abruptly, Katara retreated. She stared at Zuko from a short distance away, looking positively radiant in the light of the sunset. A strange expression crossed her features. Embarrassment? Anxiousness? Zuko wasn’t sure. But then –

“I’m not flirting or anything, you know,” she said.

Not… what?

Katara seemed to remember that her hands were still on Zuko’s shoulders and pulled them back quickly. “I forgive you and that’s – that’s it!”

Zuko was still processing her words when she scurried past him, down the dock.

He gaped at her retreating form. “What was that about?” he asked.

Aang, who had been hanging back from the exchange, approached. One of his eyebrows was distinctly twitching. “Well, after the team building exercise around the campfire, everyone thinks that you… well, you know.”

Oh.

Zuko put his head in his hands, face burning. Something told him he was going to need a lot of help, and maybe even a new round of team building exercises, to figure out this new development in his and Katara’s relationship.

[ub-sessed]

Selected excerpts from that Netflix interview with Joey Batey, Feb. 25, 2020

“When I got the role of Jaskier I went away and I read all the books and I played the game -- the Witcher 3 game; I’ve not played the first two -- and a big part of that wasn’t necessarily to do with research -- the game, that is, I mean. The books are invaluable. The game was more about understanding the fandom, I think, and it was about appreciating that yes, we’re taking the show in a new direction, in a new format, in a new medium, but in order to understand how important these characters are to everyone, that was the most important thing for me, in terms of connecting with people who knew Geralt and Yennefer and Ciri and Jaskier or Dandelion before I even met them.”

[The rest is under the cut because it is quite long:]

“I’ve done roles that have come from books before, quite a lot, but this is a different breed of fan. They own it more than you do. And if you can in any way be half of the character that they know and love then hopefully you’ve done your job. But this is the first time I’ve encountered a love for these stories and these games. It’s at first quite intimidating and then as soon as you start to loosen up and you meet people who love it so much, you realize that they’ve got nothing but love for new things, and they have respect for an ambitious narrative structure, whether they like it or not, there’s an inherent respect for it, for trying something, and that’s what I’ve taken away from a lot of the fan reaction, is everyone’s just kind of going, ‘Hey, OK, like we appreciate that these characters are going to be different to their previous incarnations’ or to how they imagined them when they were reading the books.”

“I don’t go on the Internet. I’m not very good at it. It scares the bejesus out of me. I’m quite a socially anxious human being, so I think it’s the equivalent of walking into a crowded room for me. It’s my idea of hell. So I try and dabble occasionally. But a friend sent me a thing the other day being like ‘Oh well, you know the critics have set this percentage,’ whatever it was, I think it was fairly average, ‘but the fan response has -- all the percentages are huge, they’re rocketing.’ And I think that was something, when the show came out, we all went, ‘Oh great, so the people who we wanted to make this for like it, and it doesn’t matter what the quote-unquote professionals think.’ And that was really heartwarming. And also, we were all punching the air ’cause it meant that we can move forward into season 2 with a sense of confidence and a sense of family and love, and we know that this is the first step on hopefully what will be a very long and rewarding journey.”

“The video game fans understand that at the end of the day this is a different medium and the games are equally brilliant at tackling lots of different challenging themes. I think Lauren and her wonderful writing team have made some really strong, bold, ambitious moves towards something that hopefully isn’t there for no reason. They’re not there just to be woke, they’re there because it’s interesting to talk about and interesting to explore, and what’s brilliant about the Continent and the world of The Witcher is that nothing is black and white and no-one’s really right or wrong in it. The question of morality is constantly questioned, and it’s the exploration of those themes that hopefully hooks and grabs people and keeps them in this world, enriches the world around them.”

[replying to a question about being prepared for the fan reaction to Jaskier:] “It’s one of those beautiful things where you think you prepare mentally. You know, I spent from about October, November onwards before the release of the show in December, I spent a lot of time just kind of checking in with myself and making sure I was ready for the response, good or bad. At the end of the day my job is to get up and play this character as best I can. And he is exhausting to play. As soon as I finished shooting I got ill. I was in bed for a month, ’cause I was on about 150 percent for months. He’s incredibly difficult to switch off. Once Jaskier comes out, I can’t really put him back in a box. He’s got a bit of a mind of his own. Hence a lot of the improvisation. I never have any clue what I’ve said at the end of a take, he just sort of takes over. All the fan videos and all the covers and all the fan art, it’s just incredibly heartwarming. And I think I get about three or four proposals of marriage a day on social media. And if I could I would marry each and every single one of them. The love for these characters... I’m so lucky that the fans have responded so positively not only to the show but to Jaskier ’cause it is obviously my interpretation, and I was worried at points, ‘Oh is this a departure from the text?’ But we’re playing in a very different world. He’s a young guy at the start of this show and matures into a -- and will continue maturing into a new character throughout the series, hopefully. All the videos and stuff... If I’m completely honest, a lot of them are quite weird and bonkers, and that’s fantastic, and that’s just the greatest sort of celebration. Forty, fifty years ago you’d be getting fanmail, and now these days that’s the equivalent. I should check some more of them out, because I kind of avoided them ’cause I was like, ‘I don’t want to stare at my own face for an afternoon.’ But the love that’s been poured into them, it warms my heart.”

“I’m gonna tell you now, my lute-playing is terrible. I learned the lute a while back for another project and then I... Well, I say ‘learned’. If a professional lutanist looked at what I was doing, they’d be like, ‘OK.’ It’s the equivalent of the guy at a party who gets on a piano and the only thing he can play is Hey Jude. That’s my level on the lute. But it’s enough because music has been a huge part of my life ever since I was young. We were an incredibly musical family, and it’s sort of in my blood. I play in a folk-rock group called The Amazing Devil, which is very sort of folky and almost Witchery anyway, and I've been playing in them for six, seven years or something now. So when the role landed in my lap, it did feel a little like kismet, ’cause I was like, ‘Well this means I get to explore all my favourite things -- and pick the fucking lute up again.’ ’Cause that instrument is unwieldy. I’m currently practising for season 2, just to kind of get my fingers back in gear, and I am not enjoying it, but it’s the job.”

“I have a lute at home and it sits in a corner gathering dust until I work up the courage to throw myself at it. That’s what I mostly practise on. I don’t touch the prop lute ’cause they’re so fragile and I will just sit on it at some point. And there’s only two of them I think, so if I break one -- and they’re so expensive. So I’m kind of working on it at the moment and trying to get my head back into Jaskier starting season 2. It’s a slow process.”

[regarding the music] “The recording process was a bit of a blur for me because I was quite sick, and the whole process went by very, very quickly. I think Her Sweet Kiss is the thing that I’m proudest of in the show. Which is a song that was originally going to be in an episode. It was originally going to be in episode 6 as its own piece. Then various different things changed in post-production and it became the credit sequence in that. That was the thing that I was probably the proudest of. And it was a mad recording process, it was very, very quick, but I enjoyed every second of it and if there’s more music to come then bring it on.”

From I’m Obsessed with This, a Netflix podcast hosted by Bobby Finger, February 25, 2020.

[bunnimew]

A Friend

Rating: T  Fandom: Rise of the Guardians Characters: Jack Frost, Pitch Black Tags: Space AU, Horror, I did the spoopy!!!, Ambiguous/Open Ending Summary: For RotG Halloween 2020: Day 10 @rotg-halloween

Alone in space, Jack waits.

On AO3 here.

It was dark.

It was always dark, out here.

It had been more than a week since the station was attacked, and Jack couldn’t know if anyone had received their distress calls, or his own, since. 

It had been an act of desperation to crawl into this capsule. An act of instinct to initiate launch. The station was being torn to pieces by some unknown… thing, tendrils of deep black crawling along the walls and creeping into the crevices only to rip away whole chunks of the technology and machinery that kept them all alive. 

Jack had no idea what became of his friends. If they had been on a deck that was destroyed before they could leave it. If they had been running for a capsule like this one only to find all of them gone. If they had made it to a capsule, and were just floating out in space like he was: alone, anxious, a little crazy.

The capsules didn’t have rear viewports. Being in one now, Jack considered that a huge oversight. The first several hours after launch, Jack had desperately wanted to know what was happening behind him. He had pressed himself to every window he had, trying to see past the end of his little boat, but the angles were all wrong and Jack had no idea, then or now, whether the station was even still in one piece. 

Jack felt a small stirring of hunger and slipped the last of a stick of jerky into his mouth. The capsule had rations enough to keep him alive for at least a month, and Jack was doing his best to stretch them even further. The generator hummed constantly, filtering his air and waiting for commands, but Jack had nothing to ask of it. 

The noise had been so annoying at first, before Jack got used to it. The beeps of life supporting machines used to be so loud, but now all Jack heard was the silence. 

He floated in the middle of his capsule, drifting aimlessly in time with his tiny world around him so as to seem like he wasn’t moving at all. The stars were so distant, they didn’t look to be moving at all, and their light… it barely reached him here.

Jack left the capsule barely illuminated to preserve power. If he focused on a window and ignored the sharp shine of the barest of light reflecting off mechanical corners, he could almost imagine the capsule wasn’t even there.

That it was just him.

Alone in space. 

Except for the whispers.

When the hums and the beeps and the whirrs faded out, when the silence was total and all encompassing, when Jack was almost sure this was just a dream and he was already gone, there would come a slip of sound.

It took a long time for Jack to come to accept that he wasn’t hallucinating. Time didn’t mean anything anymore, and without the onboard clock, Jack wouldn’t know what day it was. He slept when he was tired, or when he was tired of being, and woke to more dark, endless dark, so the idea that he might be making things up just to be less alone was incredibly reasonable, all things considered. 

But he wasn’t.

It always started so quiet, barely discernible from the rest of the white noise. It took forever, or it took Jack really trying to hear it, but they would get louder. Silk on a mattress, water on a slide, there would be the slightest rustle, then a rush, then, eventually… a voice.

To say Jack flipped his shit the first time he heard it would be an understatement, and Jack still wasn’t completely comfortable with it now. Where could he run, though? A day spent pressed against the walls of his capsule, eyeing every corner and window, waiting for an attack that never came was enough to drain every self-preservation instinct right out of him.

He could only spend so long on edge before the edge crumbled beneath him.

If he was found, he was found. If he died, he died. If it was starvation, or cold, or asphyxiation, or his stowaway… It hardly mattered. 

But Jack wasn’t alone. 

It was easy to dismiss as a trick of the eye, but once he came to terms with the idea that his ears weren’t lying to him, next was to believe what he was seeing. The darkness moved. 

It wasn’t like on the station, though. It didn’t creep and spread and invade and destroy, it just… settled. In the darkest corners of Jack’s tiny world, shadows shivered and tucked themselves into an endless pitch too black for his eyes to accept. He looked away from them, because watching just made him feel crazy, or like his eyes weren’t working properly, and after days spent in this cold, quiet, darkness… It was just…

Well, it didn’t matter, anyway.

So Jack floated, still as death, in the center of his dim capsule, waiting for whatever tomorrow would bring. 

Something touched him.

Jack gasped and jerked his leg away so fast the muscle in his thigh cramped. He clamped his hand down on it, trying to ease the pain away, even as his attention darted around to every wall, every machine, every little light in his tiny little world.

Of course he didn’t see anything. Of course he didn’t hear anything. But if he had seen something, and was hearing something, then the next step, obviously, was to feel something, wasn’t it? 

Jack almost laughed at the inevitability of it all, but the pain in his leg was still too keen and his lungs didn’t have the air. His stowaway was getting bold and that just meant his time was running out, didn’t it?

Nice to know he was still alive, kind of. He hadn’t lost all of himself to the darkness if his reflexes still worked, but in Jack’s head he knew they were futile. It might have been more merciful if he could have been out of his mind for this. Being completely aware as he faded to nothing didn’t sound like the kind of end he wanted for himself. 

Jack stretched his leg out as the cramp loosened and swore to himself that he wouldn’t jump like that again. If he was going to die, it would be with courage in his heart, not flinching away like cowering could somehow stop this.

Jack stared out of the viewport ahead of him, at the stars, at the dark, at the sheer size of space, and wasn’t surprised when something touched his ankle again. 

It slid all the way around, and Jack shivered at the light, silky, nothing feel of it. He could sense the goosebumps rising in waves on his skin, up his shin, over his knee, across his thigh, all the way down his arms. His shoulders tensed, his back tensed, he clenched his hands to keep still because whatever this was, it would not get to hear him scream. 

The thing inched higher, and Jack shivered again. His spine was locked in a straight line and Jack’s teeth pressed together, jaw clenched shut against his instincts. He could feel the cold of it through the insulated fabric of his suit, poking, prodding, gripping him as it pulled itself higher and higher on Jack’s body. 

By the time it reached his waist, Jack was properly scared. He could still feel it wrapped around his feet, but now it was clamping down on his hips, which meant it was so much bigger than Jack had thought it could be. How something this big had been hiding for days in the tiny corners of his capsule, Jack didn’t know. It was alien, foreign, Jack didn’t know anything about it, except that it would kill him, and nobody was ever going to know. 

He refused to look. He wanted his last sight to be the stars, as cold and distant as they’ve ever been. He dragged stale air in through his nose and tried not to think about just how hard he was breathing, whether the air filters would be able to keep up, whether he was going to pass out and be blissfully unconscious for whatever happened next. 

Barely there ribbons of ice laced around Jack’s chest and it hurt to breathe. He gasped, then bit down on his own tongue to keep everything else inside. The darkness was all around him, strapped to his legs, tied around his arms, tightening against his torso and Jack wondered if the capsule had always been this dark or if he was already beginning to lose himself. 

The universe had never been this silent. 

Whatever sounds the technology of the capsule used to make, Jack couldn’t hear them. Everything was too far away, no longer a part of his world, the sound unable to travel through space to reach him. Jack heard the soft whisper of his own breath leaving his lips, and then everything was still. 

Jack hadn’t heard real wind in a very long time, but this was like that. 

Hello. 

He didn’t jump. His body was so tense, so tight, that there wasn’t any fluidity left for jumping. Jack held his breath, and waited.

But nothing came.

Jack was startled to realize he could hear the beeping of life support systems again. The air rushed out of his lungs in one huge, surprised breath. He was still breathing. Why was he still breathing? Suddenly the aching of his clenched hands broke through the dulled senses of his fear, and Jack stretched his fingers out, instinctively trying to relieve it.

And then he froze, because as soon as his hands were open, the chill rushed in. Soft nothingness pressed into his palms and threaded between his fingers and held. 

Jack waited.

Nothing came.

Jack stared out at space and wondered what the fuck was going on. 

The voice had said hello. It had never said anything before, but now it said hello. 

Jack sucked in a breath, hoped this wouldn’t be the last word he ever said, and whispered, “Hi?”

The thing wiggled against his skin and Jack shuddered at the feeling of it. Was it happy? Or agitated? Would Jack die before he knew?

You’re warm. 

It took Jack several seconds to realize his jaw had dropped. He quickly shut it, lest the darkness press in like it had with his hands. “You’re… cold.” He felt stupid saying it, but higher thought wasn’t available to him right now, and he had to say something, because he needed to hear what it would say back.

I know. 

Jack blinked, surprised and shocked at this turn of events. What was he… supposed to do now? He wanted to ask if it was going to kill him, but somehow that felt like giving it ideas, so Jack asked the next thought on his mind. “What are you?”

Ice wrapped more firmly around him, and Jack swallowed thickly to hold back his fear.

A friend. 

Jack stared. At the darkness. At the vacuum. At the nothing and nobody around him. 

He was lost in space, running out of power, running out of food, running out of air, running out of time. 

No one could hear him. No one could see him. No one even knew he was there. 

Except this shadow. 

Jack relaxed into its hold, accepting the inevitability of its company. It wasn’t like Jack could get away. It didn’t seem to want to kill him, for now. 

So Jack drifted, still as death, in the center of his own tiny world. 

Wanting nothing, awaiting everything.

And the darkness was his friend.

[vannahfanfics]

A Caring and Doting Family

Category: General Fluff

Fandom: Fairy Tail

Characters: Wendy Marvell, Mirajane Strauss

Hello, everyone! Here’s my story for the Fairy Tail Reverse Big Bang for 2020! I had the pleasure of working with @lucykirkland for this event (here is the art associated with the story) and @reachingforme as my beta. I hope you all enjoy :) Thank you @ftguildevents for hosting!

Wendy squirmed uncomfortably as her belly twisted in tight, uncomfortable knots. Whimpering quietly, she draped herself over the wood of the table and tried not to seem too conspicuous. The young dragon-slayer wasn’t sure what had aggravated her tummy so, but it was not something she wished to bother anyone else with. Thus, she suffered in silence, watching through teary eyes as the guild went about its daily business. 

It was an ordinary day in Fairy Tail, about one in the afternoon. Cana had begun her daily ritual of draining the guild of its alcohol; she eagerly gulped ale straight from the oak barrel. Loke had elected for a jaunt to the human world and was striding about with meek little Aries clinging to the hem of his waistcoat; little tufts of her fluffy fur rolled on the floor from where she had tugged it out.The guild’s Exceeds now batted it around with their little paws. Juvia and Levy avidly discussed a recent article in the weekly mages’ magazine. Natsu and Gray were embroiled in one of their daily scraps, upending tables and chairs as some of the other adults looked on with hoots and hollers. After a few punches and kicks, Erza grabbed them by the collars and hauled them off for a fierce talking-to. Mirajane meandered through the crowd, delivering platters of food and tankards of drinks. Eventually she wandered up to the table where Wendy sat alone wriggling in pain. 

“Wendy?” Mirajane inquired quietly. She set down the plates of food she was about to deliver when she noticed the young girl’s apparent distress. “Are you sick, honey?” Wendy vehemently shook her head, not wishing to bother the pretty model-slash-mage with her stomachache. However, the movement sent her stomach twisting further into pretzel knots, and she whined miserably. Mirajane eased onto the table bench beside her, looking at her with raised eyebrows. 

“... My tummy hurts,” the pigtailed girl admitted finally. Mirajane blinked puzzledly; then, her expression softened, and she reached over to rub soothing circles into the small of Wendy’s back. The blue-haired mage sniffed and buried her face into her forearm, embarrassed to be seen in such a compromised state. How weak was she, to be incapacitated by a mere stomachache? “I’m sorry…” she peeped on instinct.

“Wendy! There’s no need to be sorry,” Mirajane laughed amiably, her long white hair swishing as she rose from the seat. Wendy peered over the curve of her arm to look up at her. “Why don’t you come back to the sick bay?” Mirajane offered kindly. “I know just the treatment for a tummy ache!” Her blue eyes sparkled as she offered a hand to the younger mage. Wendy gazed at the presented hand with a small measure of hesitation. She didn’t want to burden Mirajane with her silly illness. Although, when her insides contorted into another painful position and sent ribbons of pain flaring across her abdomen, Wendy abandoned her pride.

“Okay,” she murmured and took Mirajane’s hand. She slipped off the bench, cringing as her ailing stomach protested loudly to the action. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes and she clutched at the skin of her stomach as the twisting, contorting pain clawed at her insides. Mirajane tutted soothingly and pulled her flush to her side, drawing an arm around Wendy’s slim shoulders. Simpering, Wendy pushed her forehead against the flesh of Mirajane’s side. She was soft and warm, and Wendy found herself relaxing in her soothing presence. Somehow, the roiling in her stomach settled down just a smidgeon.

Mirajane steered the ailing girl towards the back of the guild where a small room with a bed and medicine supplies lay. Despite the proclivity for Fairy Tail members to end up in all sorts of trouble that resulted in wounds, from small to grievous, it was unoccupied. When Mirajane opened the door, Wendy immediately tore from her side to scamper over to the bed and crawl in. The freshly cleaned sheets smelled of vanilla and lavender; as Wendy inhaled the calming scent, she crooned in gratification. The fabric was soft and silky on her skin, which she now realized was flushed with mild fever. Mirajane chuckled as she strode to the bedside and leaned over to tuck her in.

“Feeling better already?”

“Mhmm. I feel like a pampered princess!” Wendy laughed as Mirajane pushed the sheets and comforter under her body to envelop her in a nice, warm cocoon. Her intestines were still writhing like a beast inside of her, but the pain had lessened some. Mirajane hummed and laid the back of her hand against Wendy’s forehead.

“You have a slight fever,” the woman frowned. She retrieved a glass of water and two fever-reducers. Wendy gulped down the pills, grimacing at the uncomfortable feeling of the smooth tablets against her throat. She coughed a little before settling back down into the bed, squirming uncomfortably at the smoldering pain in her tummy. The mattress dipped as Mirajane eased down onto it; her hand reached out to stroke Wendy’s stomach over the soft down comforter. “Don’t worry, Wendy,” she smiled kindly when the girl pouted uncertainly at her. “I’ll stay with you until you feel better.”

“Are you sure?” Wendy frowned deeply. “I feel bad… You have work to do, Mira.” Mirajane chuckled warmly and shook her head.

“No work is more important than making sure our cute little Wendy is okay!” Wendy blinked, then smiled bashfully. Mirajane is so kind, she thought happily. She snuggled further into the warm, cozy bed, appreciating the way the sheets and blankets enveloped her like a hug. To occupy herself, Mirajane brought her bin of silverware and napkins into the room so she could fold them and replenish the store. The Fairy Tail guild members collectively had insatiable gullets, meaning that the kitchen was constantly under some strain or another. Wendy watched through lidded eyes as Mirajane wrapped the silken black cloths around forks, knives, and spoons and tied red ribbons around them. She dropped them into another empty bin beside her. She was meticulous yet efficient, so very soon she had filled the bin nearly halfway.

In the interim, various members of the guild meandered in and out of the sick bay to see Wendy. Lucy popped by to deliver a warm cup of chamomile tea that she had prepared using Mirajane’s bar equipment. It’s soft floral flavor melted into Wendy’s bones, pulling her into a sense of ease and tranquility. It also made her a little sleepy, so she caught a quick cat nap; when she awoke, her belly pain had dulled considerably, but was still mildly uncomfortable. 

Gajeel and Levy came by to see her. Gajeel got halfway through one of his senseless, raspy original songs before the bookish girl ushered him out bleating about how he was disturbing the sick girl. Levy hopped back in to give Wendy a plush rabbit she had bought at the local antique store. Its threads were frayed and it carried the aroma of mothballs, but it was incredibly soft.Wendy hugged it tightly to her side.

Next came Erza, who brought her a strawberry shortcake. The redhead seemed very pleased when the sugar aggravated Wendy’s upset stomach too much to finish eating it and she was given the opportunity to polish it off. Natsu and Happy stopped in too but didn’t seem to understand Mirajane’s annoyance when they insisted that a nice cut of roasted meat cured all ailments. Gray and Juvia came in also, and Wendy was very entertained by the way Juvia insisted on wrapping her head in a scarf to stave off her fever. Laxus even came to see her, though he grew very flustered about what to say and just sat uncomfortably in a chair for five minutes holding her hand. Wendy found his hesitant caring very charming.

Wendy was very grateful for all the attention she had received over the course of the day, though she was only suffering from a stomach ache. Her guildmates regaled her with silly jokes and funny faces and kind words. By the time the sun was sinking below the horizon to cast a golden glow into the room, her pain had faded into a mild dull throbbing. Mirajane had finished preparing silverware and was now polishing the glassware they used on special occasions to prevent the accumulation of dust.

“Mirajane?” Wendy asked quietly. Sapphire blue eyes locked on her, sparkling and content. Wendy blinked slowly and squirmed in the bed. She wasn’t quite sure what she wanted to ask, now that she thought about it; she had just been compelled to call out to the model. To save face, she sputtered, “Th-thank you for sitting with me.”

“It’s no problem, Wendy!” Mirajane smiled sweetly. Sensing that something troubled the younger girl, she abandoned her current work and turned to face her fully. “Is something on your mind, Wendy?” Meekly, the little girl nodded. “What is it?”

“I just… This kind of feels like how my old guild used to dote on me,” Wendy explained with a small blush. The rest of her guild was familiar now with her origins and were usually careful not to bring up her disheartening past. Though Wendy was exceptionally happy with her home in Fairy Tail, of course she still thought about her old friends- no, family- from time to time. They were the first to embrace her when she became lost in this strange and foreign world. Though they had faded from existence, Wendy still treasured them very much and sometimes descended down the bittersweet road of memory.

Her bottom lip wobbled as she fingered the stitched hem of the comforter. The tears budded again in the corners of her eyes, blooming like little dewdrops before slipping down her cheeks. “O-one time… I ate some bad meat and got food poisoning. It was so awful; I was terribly sick… The whole guild stayed up with me all night, telling me funny stories and bringing me water and medicine and just helping me through it.” Dark stains appeared in the fabric where her tears had soaked through. “I-I’m sorry, Mira. I must sound so ungrateful right now!” she fretted and rubbed at her teary eyes with the heels of her palms.

“No!” Mirajane interrupted quickly. She scooched up the bed to lay on her side beside Wendy, hugging her head and bringing it to her chest. Wendy sniffled as Mirajane tenderly embraced her. “We could never, ever ask you to forget your former family, Wendy,” the woman told her gently. “They are as much a part of you as we are.” The tears continued to roll down Wendy’s cheeks as she whimpered in relief. She wasn’t sure if telling the truth would offend Mirajane, and the last thing Wendy wanted to do was upset the motherly woman that she so looked up to. Mirajane tutted and pressed her cheeks against Wendy’s head, twirling one of her long pigtails around her hand. “We love you, Wendy, no matter what. Frankly, I’m glad that we’re able to give you feelings that remind you of your old guild.”

“Really?” Wendy asked, peering up at her with wide eyes. Mirajane smiled brightly and nodded.

“Yes! That means that we’re doing our job as your new family and taking good care of you! If you feel safe and loved with us, that is all we could ever ask for.” Wendy trilled delightedly and threw her arms around Mirajane’s neck to snuggle happily into her. Mirajane beamed and embraced her tightly. “You are our guild’s treasure. Never, ever forget that.”

“Thank you, Mirajane,” Wendy giggled elatedly. Mirajane pulled back to smile happily  at her.

“Is your stomach hurting anymore?” Wendy perked up and her hands flew to her stomach. Sure enough, the dull pains in her stomach had ceased. Wendy grinned ecstatically at Mirajane.

“No! I’m cured!” she squealed. She threw the covers off herself and jumped up in the bed, flinging her arms triumphantly in the air. Mirajane chuckled good-naturedly as the blue-haired girl did a little happy dance across the mattress. “Thank you for your help, Mira!”

“Of course. Since you’re feeling better, would you like some cookies?” Wendy shrieked in delight and vaulted off the bed to dash out the door, yelling, “Yay! Cookies!” She ran out into the main guild hall and dozens of pairs of eyes fixed on her.

“Hey, everybody!” she cried, cupping her hands to her mouth. “I’m all better and Mira’s making cookies!” she shouted just as Mirajane came strolling out of the room. A chorus of excited shouts and hollers rang through the room. Mirajane clicked her tongue and teasingly leaned over to tickle Wendy’s sides.

“Hey! That was gonna be our secret!” Screaming in laughter, Wendy wriggled away from her and fled to scramble up into Gajeel’s lap. His big, strong arms wrapped around her middle and he regarded her with raised eyebrows.

“Protect me, Gajeel!”

“From Mira? You’re on your own, squirt,” the iron-eater snorted playfully. Wendy giggled and climbed up to sit on his shoulder like a parrot, heels kicking into his back as she watched Mirajane walk behind the bar to begin preparing the cookie dough. After a few seconds, she hopped down to run over.

“Can I help? Can I, Mirajane?”

“Of course. Here, can you get me the flour?” Nodding, Wendy ran to the cabinets to begin looking for the bag of flour. As she pulled it out and brought it over, she paused to look out into the guild hall, drinking in all the friendly faces.

I miss my old home sometimes, she thought, but I’m very grateful to have found such a caring, lively, and amazing new one! Wendy scampered over to Mirajane and climbed up into a chair to deliver the flour. As Mirajane handed her a whisk to stir the dry ingredients, Wendy prepared to add this moment to the plethora of happy memories she had made at Fairy Tail.  

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