#What little culture I have where I'm from is either taken away from me by white supremacists co-opting a wrongful shitth version
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fiendir · 7 months ago
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not a fucking week goes by without someone grossly misinterpreting norse myth huh
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wolfythewitch · 6 months ago
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Hiui it is 8am and I'm on the zcholl bus and my broam has not shut up about them
There's a lot of discourse about the achilles portrayal in the song of achilles which I agree with for the most part because the sanitization I feel erases the suffering of women and slaves the period was built on by minimizing the raping and violent nature of war hero achilles that Homer wrote - - however, I don't think tsoa ought to be read as a stand alone; tsoa is entirely written from patroclus' pov and I think that idealisation of the man is brilliant because of how grossly codependent they were
I think I really liked one redditors take on it, being [in context of 'the silence of girls'; a breseis pov of the iliad, where in achilles participated in the culture which used her as a bed slave of war] The tsoa protector achilles which defended women who mattered to him and was endlessly devoted, and the achilles that was complacent in the ritualistic abuse of the women he enslaved by pillaging their homes are both coexisting, and possibly one and the same
I personally view the Greek cast as sort of vocaloids, they're tools by which we understand the culture of the ancients, the way we envision their interactions is just a means for our practicing the pragmatics of how we come to understand the period
Okay frankly I'm not the best person to discuss this because I've only read like half of tsoa, but there's two disagreements I have I guess, based on what I Have read
One, as much it's not meant to be a standalone or something like that (to me, it is meant to be a standalone), because of its popularity in contemporary media it is being taken as one, and many people will have Achilles and Patroclus' image forever frozen as tsoa' portrayal. God knows how many comments I've gotten on my videos treating tsoa as fact. I can't really blame the author for that, but it is what it is.
Two, the idealization of man through patroclus' eyes would hold more weight if himself was not changed for the narrative either. Patroclus was a soldier, he was a healer, and he also had his fair share of women (who he slept with). Both of them did. Violence was not shied from, and slave women were war prizes. There are these insidious little rewrites throughout the story to further the narrative of Achilles and Patroclus' only loving each other, and in turn erasing what they've done to the other women in the story. (Taking in slave women because they wanted to save them is. A choice.) Deidamia in the myths, they range from at best her and Achilles falling in love to the point of intimacy, and at worst Achilles raping her. In tsoa, Thetis forced Achilles to sleep with her. Deidamia also forced Patroclus to sleep with her. That flip in the narrative is kind of fucked up, seeing as how both in the myths and in tsoa Peleus raped Thetis.
Trying to make a statement that it is written through the idealized eyes of man, well it doesn't really work here. If anything, it feels more like an author writing with the intent of not having her MCs be morally reprehensible. So Patroclus cares when the plot demands it (saving briseis, outrage when she is taken away. Asking Achilles to save the other slave girls) and not when it doesn't affect him (talking about his mother nonchalantly, questioning why thetis hated Peleus when he also acknowledged how Peleus was involved in her rape).
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jess-the-vampire · 5 months ago
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Happy Arborgeist Day/ Hurl'ullack!
Checked out the storyboard for another deleted s1 episode "No Tree Left Behind"
You can read it here:
An episode about boiling isles holidays and traditions? interlaced with eda and lilith's sister drama? This one was actually pretty interesting, and got me even a little sad, despite it absolutely being non canon now.
Thoughts on the cut episode below:
Honestly this board really serves to remind me we didn't get to know a ton about the actual culture of the Boiling isles, like we kinda get to know the stuff witches do on the isles, what they eat, and the everyday stuff they get into....but not so much about it's culture. You can kinda chalk that up to belos a little but this boarded episode was basically about keeping tradition and making new memories, even in spite of change, so it more or less feels like the crew either didn't have time for this or had other things to focus on.
So the culture of the island is a lot more in the background in the actual series as it keeps it's focus more on the characters dealing with their personal issues and with the conflict at hand.
Speaking of which, despite belos being the bad guy for his hatred and fear of witches, can't deny....the culture of the isles is quite disturbing at times that i can understand that not all humans are gonna have luz's extreme acceptance. Like king's holiday is primarily the celebration of demon overlords and is very casual about maiming others to present to the deity when talking about it. If the isles was a real place i think most humans would be a bit disturbed.
Anyways, king's part of the episode, while funny at times, is the least interesting of the two, the real emotional core is the A plot with eda and luz.
(I did think the scene with willow and gus was fun tho)
There is one scene where i think another demon calls king insensitive for putting the wrong bloodthirsty battle painting of demon history on display and king being like "Tomatoes, tomatoes, it's all the same and not a big deal", and the guy gets SUPER offended and i don't know how to take this scene.
Eda is such a menace during the holidays my god
Luz trying to tell Eda it's ok if her celebration tree is gone because she and her mama celebrated all holidays even if it wasn't on the correct day, and it was more about family in the end then the tree itself.
Only for it to be revealed this tree meant so much to eda because it reminded her of the days she and her sister got along is actually pretty heartbreaking.
Even Lilith, who, despite threatening luz's life to get her way, still has a moment of sadness for the fallen tree you can really feel from the panels. It's really good.
We get some moments for both the construction coven and the plant coven, though the construction coven acts more like.....an actual construction team.
The plant coven members being old guys had some fun jokes tho, think it's cute one wanted to intern willow at the end.
Also kiki cameo.
I know this is a canned episode, but i'm a bit glad we don't have an episode where some of the jokes are about eda telling luz their holiday traditions involve them all being naked and dancing around a tree, this....would of been taken a weird way.
also witches might be able to remove their SKIN??????!!!!
Also this board just remined me how inconvenient it really is that the coven guards don't have palisman, like eda just.....easily flies away from them and they can't catch up to her. Like this is an incredibly bad security system if your trained guards can't even fly up and chase after criminals, like my god.
One reason for sure you know this is basically non canon is apparently the tree in question, the Arborgeist. Is the tree that eda made her staff from, and there's only 10 of these on the entire isles that i assume supply all the palisman.
Basically, these were the proto palistrom trees.
I can kinda see why this was changed, like even if we take it that belos is cutting them down for his palisman eating, this would just raise the question why he's doing it NOW of all times. But on top of that, these rare trees that apparently only show up once per generation all being cut down at once feels like the kinda thing that would REALLY tick off the isles, especially if all palisman are being supplied by it.
Having the trees just be a normal thing that was depleting due to his consumption makes both him seem less suspicious, and the witches seem less dumb for just being....ok that they're not going to make staffs anymore.
It's implied they don't protest mostly out of fear, but still.
Also belos's, i assume fake, reasoning for chopping down the trees is apparently "We can't have you people celebrating non-coven holidays" and it's just, it's so petty.
granted, it's much more meaningful to actually SEE the tree being cut then having it be stated offscreen like in the show. Like even the resolution to this episode, as in, finding a sapling they plant, is still an offscreen thing in the final series. Where they just talk about replanting trees.
And of course, we gotta have a dance party ending, tho i do think the last scene tying back to the tale eda told about the holiday is very cute.
So it seems a lot of elements of this episode were more split between multiple episodes.
Still, a pretty decent episode, moreso for the main plot but the boards do great at really making you feel for eda and lilith despite it not even being animated.
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threepandas · 3 months ago
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Bad End: Out In The Cold
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"What's this? A cold little mouse in my castle?"
Thick hair that wasn't mine spilled over my shoulder. As a familiar hand, warm and calloused, wrapped itself around my throat. I hadn't realized how cold the room had gotten, until her hand was there, skin warm against my skin. It had taken a while to get used to this.
I was grateful, in a way. For the the day she had done more then just scoff at my scarf. Telling me I would freeze. The way she had gotten worried. Pulled off her gloves, grumbling all the while, too fuss over me like some great mother bear. Hands warm but gentle, as the tucked themselves around my throat. Too better warm my blood, she had said.
It had been like a dam breaking.
And honestly? She WAS right. It was warm.
Now, whenever she so much as SUSPECTED I was cold? Her hand would sneak out to press against my pulse. Though, half the time, I suspected it was an excuse. She'd not had many chances for closeness in her life, I suspect. Calysta was the... ah, it was hard to translate, but... the CLOSEST translation? Was something like "Child of The Mountain Gods".
Or was it "Child of the Mountains AND the Gods"?
I was supposed to be writing a treatise on the subject. Gods knows no one ELSE would. Cowards. Bigots too. "Nothing but savages" my silk clad ASS. And they dare call themselves academics!? Ha! HA, I say! Both my professors and I would SPIT! (If it weren't WILDLY rude. I never COULD master that skill. I did try.)
Unfortunately, my professors, were too old to make the journey this far North. It hadn't stopped them from TRYING, when we had finally gotten permission. But... well. They barely made it too Wuntersgreen before the strain and cold became too much. They cried.
As the youngest? I was loaded down with their notes, questions, hopes and dreams, and sent on ahead. No one was impressed by me. The scrawny academic with her soft, soft hands. Never a day's fight in her. Didn't know how to do "anything". But? That had given their word to host me. So they did.
It's been AMAZING.
And I like to think I'm getting better!
Adapting. Learning how to do things and help around the castle. I even helped start a fire for the fireplace the other day! Before THAT? I learned how to set hunting traps... rather badly. I have yet to catch anything. But still! Progress, is it not?
Where was I? Ah, yes.
Calysta. Her rank is something between a Warlord and a King, as far as I can tell? It holds the respected sovereignty of a ruling monarch yet? Can be seized. Should she grow "weak". Is not NECESSARILY passed too one's children. They, presumably, have an ADVANTAGE... but? It goes too "the Chosen child of..." that word I'm still having some difficulty getting a good translation off.
And if I remember correctly, Calysta's brother's did NOT appreciate that. As they had been favored by her father. Showered with praise most of their lives. One of them ASSUMED to be the next leader.
They challenged her.
Did not back down.
Now? Now she has neither Father nor brothers. Not that it seems she had much of either to begin with. Frankly? I am GLAD she won. She is good for the North. Strong, steady, highly tactical. A wry wit. And a FEIRCE love for her people and culture. NO ONE will take it from her. Destroy these beautiful peoples.
I'm tugged back lightly, away from my desk to sit up properly against the back of my chair. The hand on my neck shifting softly, ever so slightly up, to cup the underside of my jaw. Tilting my head up so I can not see my work but must instead meet the eyes of my dear friend.
"Enough, little mouse." There is a fondness to the edge of her mouth, she is not one for great grins and wild expressions. It has taken me months to learn how to read her so well. "Your papers will still be there AFTER you warm up. Should be easier to right, don't you think, when you can actually feel your fingers again?"
I huff a laugh.
Honestly... where would I be with out her? Frozen to death, probably. I get entirely to fixated on my work. Food, drink, keeping the fire running. I notice none of it. Probably shrivel up and die. The fact she even takes the time to check on me? Dispite being as important as she is? Let NO ONE say Calysta does not CARE. She is a good person.
My legs feel numb and prickly, stiff, in that distinctly asleep and too cold sort of way, as I try to stand. Calysta has to wrap her arm around my waste and let me lean against her. She feels almost too hot against me. Another sure sign I have, indeed, allowed myself to get too cold. Oh dear.
With an exasperated snort, once it becomes clear my legs will probably not be recovering fast enough for her liking, Calysta decides she will speed things along. My legs are swept out from under me effortlessly. I don't even squeek anymore, this has happened so often. But I USED too.
It is how I became "mouse".
Now I just allow Calysta her way. She'll put me down when she wants to put me down. And honestly? It's kinda fun to be carried like a child. I feel tall. Weightless and somewhat decadent, it makes my heart beat a faster. And on somedays? All I want to do is go boneless. Allow myself to be HELD. Not that I'll ever tell. So Shhhhh, a secret to our graves, okay? It would make things awkward for her.
She strolls down the hall with me, too her office. No one so much as blinking an eye. We've become so common in our shenanigans, I imagine, it's become mundane. And... ah~ Calysta was RIGHT. I WAS cold. The fireplace in her office is full with logs burning away merrily. The windows we passed in the hall showed snow. It seems the storm's finally hit..
Instead of putting me down, Calysta heads for the couch. Turning and with a huff, flopping down, making both of us bounce a bit. Leaning back with me less in her arms now, so much as in her lap. The room is quiet. Hushed almost. The crackle of fire, the distant howl of wind, far away chatter of life, elsewhere in the castle.
Calysta has leaned back against the back of her office's couch. Head rested against the fur blanket draped against the back of it. The fur mixes with her riotous man of hair to create almost a halo, lit in golds by the fire's light. Her eyes are closed as she takes her moment. The fire light makes her face softer.
But never soft.
No force in all the world could make Calysta anything but the Queen she is. Dangerous and powerful. First into battle and last to leave. She is breath taking in the way all deadly things are, I think. Like blades and poison held up to the light. Predators and fires that burn.
"You're staring, little mouse." She says, voice nearly a whisper in the softness of the room. It is a rumble like mountains and the sweet call of dangerous things. She's always had such a commanding voice. I envy it. "Is my face so entrancing?"
She's smirking. Teasing me. I laugh and rest my head against her shoulder. Let myself drift as the chill in my bones fades away. The arm loosely around my waist to keep me from falling off, has taken to lightly stroking my back. Almost absent-mindedly. Occasionally, fingers playing with the ends of my hair.
A servant has come-by. Removed our shoes for us. Brought Calysta missives and responses. General updates. She shifts us. Tucking me against her as she lays down, tucking me between her body and the couch. Fuzzy blanket over me, arm wrapped around me. I... I feel boneless.
Safe.
Everything warm and quiet and far away.
Trusting, I doze off. Cuddling close and utterly content.
Calysta presses a kiss to the crown of my sleeping head. Let's her hand roam, just a bit, simply to feel the perfect way her little mouse fits right up against her. She was MADE for her. Born to be here. Still... she has to be... be GENTLE. Soft.
It's hard. She hasn't had much practice in that.
But good things are worth the struggle for them. True love is WORTH the time, the effort, to learn how the South romance. Figuring out how to woo her lil mouse as she deserves. Making sure she never leaves.
Speaking off...
She diges out the ridiculous fancy paper envelope at the bottom of the stack. Hidden, as per her instructions, so her little Mouse wouldn't see it. Another one, it seems, from that damn "House" of hers. Southern Clans were pretty damn presumptuous, weren't they? Had some fucking gall.
What did THIS one say?
Let's she... "come back at once" blah blah blah "how dare you ignore all our letters" blah blah "you WILL honor the engagement we've found for you, or ELSE" oh? Threats now, huh? Ah~? "Keep ignoring our letters and you'll be cast from House-" well, well~!
That's convenient.
One flick of the wrist, and the letter is in the fireplace. Burning away. Just like all before it. Oops. How difficult it is, to get news from the South. Her little mouse really SHOULD just forget about them. THIS is her home now. THEY are her people.
Her girl doesn't need anyone else.
"Don't worry, little love. I won't leave you out in the cold. You're gonna stay with me. Forever. I Promise."
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dollfaced-erin · 6 months ago
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𝔻𝕣𝕒𝕘𝕠𝕟'𝕤 ℂ𝕣𝕒𝕕𝕝𝕖 (Blade x F!Reader x Jing Yuan)
PART 18
PART 1 , PART 2 , PART 3 , PART 4 , PART 5 , PART 6 , PART 7 , PART 8 , PART 9 , PART 10 , PART 11 , PART 12 , PART 13 , PART 14 , PART 15 , PART 16 , PART 17
A/n :
i'm trying my best to schedule myself, but reading all the rqs i have, im getting pumped up to write again ! though i am having some trouble writing some rqs and it either may take me some time to think about it, or i'll really be stumped looking at it... these days i havent been feeling much motivated so i've been taking time for myself to reconstruct words and redevelop nice and pretty sentences again. I...also am feeling like changing the pictures i use for dragon's cradle...i'm not sure how to though...dw, i'll canva through it ! PENACONY 2.2 IS DROPPING TOMORROW AND IM SO EXCITED-- (this is pre-2.2 dont come at me please,,,) ROBIN WANTERS WILL BE HAVERS TRUST !
Taglist :
@rebeccawinters , @nayukiyukihira , @pix-stuff , @fluffy-koalala , @swivy123 , @starxao , @kaoyamamegami , @kimura-uzuri , @rsvye , @seikouryuu , @just-here-reading , @matsulovesyou, @sincerely-aaronette , @prettyliliy , @chibiduck , @hermosacolibri , @la-diablas-thingz , @farelady-fate , @everi-eve , @shadowfoxey , @helloyuki , @immahuman , @samptlay , @boomie-123
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Vidyadhara elegies are the traditional music of the Vidyadhara people. The Vidyadhara use only simple castanets for musical instruments, relying on extremely diverse sets of melodies.
Originating from their folk songs, the style is generally that of mournful dirges. Vidyadhara elegies can be said to represent all of the most tragic aspects of Xianzhou culture, as Vidyadhara players tend to sing about loves lost and pyrrhic victories.
"The previous High Elders have all met with a fate worse than death..." Said an old voice, troubled by the troubles that have been plaguing him ever since his rise onto the position.
"From the first Imbibator Lunae...they have all met their demise in a way no one would expect. The challenge to overthrow them is just getting audacious by the day !" Exclaimed another voice, a woman, perhaps trying to convince someone with her thoughts and principles.
Yes...there was always the threat of assassination from all corners, and if he didn't choose well and right before his time came, be it naturally or by the hand of a forsaken soul, the Luofu shall be plunged into peril without the proper head of a scion to properly guide them...
The horned man thought deeply about this, his gaze looking out the window. His bright and intelligent eyes were gazing up at the moon, as if asking for the guidance of the entity that graced his name. He was supposed to be the wise one, guiding his people and stirring them away from chaos and destruction that may befall upon them. Be it in his time or another...he had his responsibilities set out for him.
So the dragon sighed softly, hoping that none of the Preceptors had heard his little act of impatience and negativity, apprehensive that they may assume that he was finding this all a hassle for him to think about, or even find his improper and impolite behavior discourteous.
It was...too much for him to assume alone. The matter now was in his hands, and not those before him. What he did now would paint portraits towards his ancestors and previous incarnations, and stain the names of his future reincarnations...
He looked beside him, where there was a beautiful young woman, sitting, minding her own business. On her hand was a lovely ring, a sentiment that she was taken by her betrothed. Her (h/c) hair gleamed under the moonlight's grace, letting it shine brighter that the waves of the deep ocean that submerged Scalegorge Waterscape.
Her bright eyes landed on his troubled figure, gracing him with a smile that washed away his worries, akin to a waterlily floating on the surface of the water of an untouched lake. She got up, silks embroidered by the masterful hands of the Vidyadhara craftsmen cupping his cheeks lovingly.
"What's troubling you, my beloved...?" She asked sweetly, her glossy lips still gracing the smile that he wished to protect with every fiber of his draconic being.
Though she wasn't a High Elder, and didn't possess much abilities that were deemed extraordinary to the eyes of the Preceptors. But she was the one that managed the quell the rage that continued to flare in his heart, calming him down with a mere caress of her smooth hands, smoother than the moondrop flowers growing in the silence of night.
To him...she was wiser than anyone else of their caliber.
Being childhood lovers, she watched him grow, she was by his side when he received the eye of abysm, she stood proud in the crowd once he was declared the full-fledge Imbibator Lunae.
His beloved wife.
"My...moon..." The saddened High Elder whispered, his hands rising up to cup her gentle hands that caressed her cheeks. "I...am deeply sorrowed..."
"I must choose the next descendent for our lineage..." He said, leaning into her healing and comforting touch. "Perhaps...we could choose the egg together...?"
"Like...choosing our own children...?" The wife asked, almost jumping in place in surprise. Her (e/c) eyes were wide, almost elated at the prospect of...children.
It was a foreign concept to them, since Vidyadhara's aren't able to reproduce like regular Xianzhou natives. But imagining it...
"Yes...just like--huh ? Children ?" The Imbibator Lunae said, blinking his eyes at her with confusion. Was she serious ? No, that cant be...
"Wait, not one child ?" "Huh, why just choose one when we can have two ?" "But what about the Dragon Heart ?"
"What about it ? One could have it, and we could ask the Perceptors to bind them as siblings, or...perhaps, grow them together to be siblings."
"Siblings..." Imbibator Lunae thought, remembering that Xianzhou natives and Foxians had that concept. It clicked in his mind. His lover had a point, and he had come to realize something.
This...burden of being the Imbibator Lunae...was too much for one person to handle. One responsibility too much for one soul. He...wouldn't be able to protect himself if he was too occupied with the affairs that concerned him more than his own being, like his beloved...
Even the past High Elders had met with a demise no one could foresee, meaning...that there was also no one else to back up and they only had one goal. His stress was thankfully managed by the presence of his beloved, which had grown by his side since she had broken off her shell. But what about the past Imbibator Lunae...?
It was...too much for one person. Too easy to overthrow.
But before the couple could properly choose their heir...the beloved...had fallen before he did.
In his arms, he held the dying and distraught woman in his arms, a gaping hole in her chest from the knife that pierced her without warning, leaving it to penetrate her body before she managed choose their heir together.
Today was supposed to be a joyous day...a day where the two of them would hold hands and walk with the Pearlkeepers to look at the eggs that gleamed brightly, hoping to find potential that would help the Luofu prosper more than in his time. But as they turned their backs, they were blinded by the threats that still lingered to take the couple down, and not even Cloudhymn magic could save her now...
The Imbibator Lunae roared in pain and despair, holding his beloved's dying body close to him, knowing he had to quickly rush her to the egg and let it heal her. But he just...wanted to see her one last time, and give her one last kiss.
The dragon bent down its mourning self, lips pressed against its mate's forehead one final time as tears streamed down his eyes, now dull after the tragic robbery of his beloved from his embrace.
He...couldn't survive this world without her. He couldn't bear the days where she would no longer stand by his side, holding his hand, cupping his face with her small and warm palms. He couldn't bear the days where she wouldn't smile at him, where she would no longer be able to press her lips against his.
No...he couldn't...
So he decided to take the final step, and return his beloved into the egg the Pearlkeepers had kindly provided for her, quietly leading the mourning husband to give his wife her final goodbye.
"I'll see you again, my beloved." He whispered, kissing her forehead with tenderness he had never shown her, not even on their wedding day.
"And...my heart will always be with you. Because one the day we met...you have stolen it, and had always kept it safe. So I'm giving it to you, to remember that only you will ever have my heart, be it the one pumping blood in my body, or the one that my power stems from."
"Without you here by my side...what is all this power for if I cannot protect the one I love...?"
"My dear...Saltator Lunae..."
So he chose his new descendent.
And thus...was born two dragons with beautiful horns on their heads, the older brother's arms curling around his newly hatched sister protectively. His grip was tight, arms holding her close and his teal colored tail coiling around her small form. Their embrace was too heartwarming, not even the maids dared to separate them.
Perhaps this child wished to protect her, vowing deep in his heart to never let anything happen to his precious baby girl. A dragon who had horns just like him. A little smile was etched on his face as he inhaled the scent of lilies that radiated from her soft tufts of hair even though he was deep in slumber.
The Preceptors had to hold a meeting amongst them, trying to figure out what to do with these two set of children. It seemed that they had inadvertently inherited the power of the Permanence, both with the outstanding traits of the true heir to power.
"But the boy was hatched first before the girl ! He is the one with true power to the throne !" One argued, quickly hushed by the other. "But the shell he was cast off from wasn't the one which the past Imbibator Lunae had instructed us to watch over so carefully !"
"The girl is the one with the heart. The one that had passed those trials and irrefutably inherited the power of the Dragon Heart. Both...succeeded in the Transmutation Arcanum..." the oldest of them said, his voice ruling over all other reasons.
"The boy had hatched earlier, with horns and the potential reeking from his form no one dared doubt." Said the wise Vidyadhara elder. "Even the inspectors from the Xianzhou Fanghu had acknowledged that power and potential seeped from these two eggs..."
"But no one...could have ever anticipated the birth of two individuals with draconic traits." Said another. "Everyone had experienced the tremor of incredulous potential, yet we merely betted on which would be the true successor..."
"What if...their fate was to rule together...?" said a woman's voice, loud amongst the chatter and discussion.
"The previous High Elder once wrote in a will, that shall it be a boy that was hatched from the shell, his name Dan Feng, and if she was a girl...name her Dan Jia." The wisest of them all spoke, his voice thundering through the hall as they began to rise to a conclusion.
"But those were the terms for the egg so closely guarded..." He said, little confusion at what was apparently happening.
"Born first, we had called the boy, who bore an uncanny resemblance to his predecessor...as Dan Feng." The old clan member reminded. "And for the egg that had been announced as the next heir...with the dragon heart in the small vessel...she will be named Dan Jia."
"For the first time in the Xianzhou history, let there be two High Elders ruling on the Luofu, siblings, who would equally rule and succeed in aspects failed." He said, rising upon his seat at the head of the table. "One destined for power to eliminate the abominations of celestial bodies, and the other, protecting the heart that stems greatness for them both !"
"The boy is named Dan Feng, the Imbibator Lunae as his predecessors once were...and the girl...shall be named Dan Jia. Saltator Lunae, just as the couple that reigned before they were born."
The table of Preceptors began to clap, finding this new embodiment of power astounding and magnificent, never seen before. Their sounds of clapping was thunderous, almost disturbing the pair that was sleeping a couple rooms away.
"Ngh..." muttered the young boy, curling around his little sister even further, hiding her in his chest to prevent the sounds from hurting her ears and frightening her.
The paper written for the will was yellowed, yet the words on it were still clearly visible to be read. It was preserved despite the passage of time, reflecting the man who sat by his desk, holding the brush in his hand.
"Imbibator Lunae is for the man who enjoys his drinks, watching the moon that gazes so brightly upon him. But where lies the joy of drinking such fine liquor without a desirable dancer ? For the Saltator Lunae would accompany him in his darkest days, moonlight bathing her skin and showing him the way."
(Y/n) looked at the soldier, kneeling before a Foxian healer who had...an unnerving smile on her lips. She didn't have a good feeling about this. Why wasn't this healer laying him on the ground, treating his wounds ? Or why was she standing over him, as if waiting for something to happen...?
The soldier looked as if he was really experiencing torment, his head cradled in his hands as if it were about to burst. Yet the healer did nothing, merely watching as his progress began to deteriorate.
Before (Y/n) could warn and pull March back, the unaware girl began to take her hand and rushed towards the pair.
"Here ! There are still survivors !" March said, almost relieved to see that there were still living people despite the blood battleground she had just witnessed earlier. Perhaps it was a sight to behold, as she wasn't as trained on these grounds as Welt or (Y/n) was.
But Welt seemed to catch on quite quickly, his gaze sharp as he observed the scene before him. It was as if he knew that something was indeed amiss, the same something that (Y/n) was experiencing.
"Hmm...?" Hummed the woman, turning around to face the group that had approached them. Her gaze seemed to be pleased for a bit, before it turned into a scowl. "You're not the Knights...what is your purpose here ? It's dangerous."
There was something in her tone that made (Y/n) feel uneasy. She sounded like she was...worried, but there was a certain hiss in her voice that made (Y/n) sure that she wasn't happy with them intruding in her...business with this knight.
"We're reinforcements sent by the General. Where's everyone else ?" Welt asked, trying to keep the situation under control and calm. Well...with this situation, it wasn't hard to see where it would eventually end up.
The Foxian woman scoffed, crossing over her arms as she heard what Welt had just relayed. "Tsk, resorting to short-life species as reinforcements...hehe, Jing Yuan is really running out of options..."
The taunting and worrying smile was back on the 'healer's' lips as she mentioned that Jing Yuan was possibly running low on manpower to properly eradicate the current problem. And it seems that she hadn't yet noticed that (Y/n) was with them.
It was expected, since communication the the Alchemy delve has been cut off since a few system hours ago. There would be no way for them to know of the current issue happening on the other bodies of the Luofu, such as (Y/n)'s awakening.
"They're here to escort me. The General and the Master Diviner had laid out specific orders for them to tread safely, as well as ensure my safety to tend to the casualties." (Y/n) said, stepping forward to face off this 'healer'.
"You...who do you think you--" The angered look on the woman's face was quickly replaced with shock and fear as she realized the horns that grew from (Y/n)'s head.
"You cant be..."
"All of you ! Run !" Cried out the Knight who was still weak on the ground, battling his own pain that seemed to be almost unbearable for him. "She's a disciple of Sanctus Medicus !"
All color began to drain from everyone's skin, leaving them pale and terrified at the 'healer' lady before them. March's grip on (Y/n)'s hand tightened, indicating that this was not the outcome she had expected to be. A direct face off with the supporters of the Plagues Author !
"Silence." The woman hissed, looking at the fallen soldier. "If my healing worked, you'll become one of us. Then..."
She looked at (Y/n), the grin almost impossibly widening on her face.
"It wont be just me they'll be running from."
It all happened too fast. As if on cue, the fallen Knight began his gruesome transformation. Branches began to sprout from his skin, tearing it apart. His armor began to be one with his skin, almost molding entirely with his being. His body began to surge with incredulous power, rendering his senses numb and murderous intent increasing tenfold.
"Lady (Y/n) !"
"GET BACK !"
(Y/n) quickly pushed March behind her, taking up front with Welt by her side, who came to terms with the situation faster than the younger women. With a nod to the brunette, (Y/n) produced her glass hand fan from thin air, the weapon of choice materializing in her hand quicker than light. Welt held his cane, ready to unleash the power of the black hole that he had kept sealed, hoping to never unleash its full potential.
The knight began to rush towards them, tears in his eyes as he tried his best to land his lightest attacks for as long as he remained conscious, for a soldier's dignity lies in their death. Losing control and his mind...would be a warrior's worst nightmare.
His attacks were still deadly and heavy, but he had no control whatsoever over his doings. Though he was experienced with enhanced abilities, (Y/n) and Welt did their best to fend off the regretful man, hoping to put him to rest in the calmest and most humane way.
"Please...I'm sorry..." the man pitifully cried as (Y/n) parried his attack with her fan, swiftly landing a kick to his side. The dragon woman was indeed merciful, and she had her sympathies for the man who had lost all hope of regaining his former pride.
But why couldn't she get close in and quickly put him to rest...?
Unlike the Exhalting Sanctum...she didn't have much memory of herself to full deploy and outlet her power. But now that she was aware...why wasn't she...
She felt like there were still a reign of shackles tying her down...
"Why are you apologizing ?! Didn't you all come here to the Xianzhou to seek immortality ?!" The woman screeched, watching from the backlines as more celestial beings of abundance began to advance towards them.
"You don't have to appease Jing Yuan ! The Disciples of Sanctus Medicus can grant your every wish ! To be immortal like the Natives ! To have a long and prosperous life like the Vidyadhara people !" She cackled, eyes glinting with malice and insanity as she watched the group begin to get surrounded.
(Y/n) was busy fending off the lost soldier as well as getting herself surrounded left and right by borisins and their shadow kin. Though how many times she had launched attacks, she was never able to fully push them back. She was at a loss, she was afraid and worried...
She understood now. Why she couldn't blindly charge in...
She was afraid of losing control of her power if she used it without her brother by her side...
Welt was by her side, exerting himself to his greatest ability to never cause harm, potentially plunging everyone into deep danger if he lost control. March and Stelle were backing them up, with March using her bow and Stelle with her bat, coursing with the crackling power of destruction.
They were all fighting...they were all in danger...
"Please, Lady (Y/n)..." the soldier begged her. "Let me meet the end I deserve."
"Let me die with honor..."
"Honor...?" (Y/n) whispered, her voice coming out in breaths of white, cold from the ice she produced. But the man before her nodded, hoping she'd do the best thing she could.
She was afraid...hoping to never misuse her power in fear of destruction it entails. But he was right. She had people she must protect, whether or not her brother was there to properly keep her power in check.
"I understand."
With a small smile on her lips, the dragon lady began to come close to her companions, hoping that they'll be within her protection. With a single rise of her fan, just as she had done with Yanqing, rose an illusion of an ice lotus, trapping her companions to keep them safe.
"I'm sorry." (Y/n) whispered, looking at the infected before her, before her eyes began to glow, and her tail appearing behind her. She never wished for her power to be out of control, yet to protect, one must go through lengths far beyond boundaries.
(Y/n) held her fan tight in her hand, close to her chest. With a single swing of her fan, water from the sea surrounding the delve began to rise, turning into waves as it began to sweep away the entire colony, picking up the borisins and the disciples in its way, pulling them off to the edge with their powerful forces.
For those who managed to withstand her waves, she cast upon them winds that would cut through them and hinder their sight. With a single stroke of her fan, she sent amplified ice blizzards, cutting through their regenerating skins time and time again like tiny razor blades, faster than their demonic abilities.
With fingers to her lips, her pointer and thumb forming a circle, she blew on the tips of her fingers to send out her ice, freezing those in her path, starting by freezing the droplets of water on their body, piercing deep into them, and freezing the fluids that coursed as a source of life.
It was like the sea. So gentle and soothing, yet with forces so strong to pull enemies deep into the heavy and dark depths. Some place so comforting like a warm embrace, yet terrifying with depths of unknown danger.
Once the waves had washed off the pavilion, all that was left...were the frozen bodies of the loyal worshippers of the Plagues Author. It was cleaned out from the remaining infected lives that were threatening their own, reminding her of the sins that would be washed away by the sea when they were reborn...
"Woah ! Looks like the frozen statues of the antimatter legion back on Jarilo-VI !" March excitedly said, looking at the figures encased in ice for as long as (Y/n) willed for it.
The young pink-haired woman then turned to look at (Y/n), wanting to know more and perhaps ask about if she could do the same as (Y/n). But as she turned around, (Y/n) was already walking into the 'exhibit' of her power.
"Lady (Y/n) ! H-hey, where are you going ?!"
Then she heard little voices as she walked past the frozen statues...
"Brother...shall one day we cast off our old shells...would we be able to find each other again...?" Said a young child voice from afar.
"Maybe...my little moonflower. We'll never know..." Replied a slightly more mature voice, explaining to the young child in the kindest way possible.
"But should you ever forget me...the things you've done in this life is bound to make you remember little by little, no matter how hard you try."
Before her was the fallen Cloud Knight, who begged her to end him in the most honorable way. He was on the ground, kneeling, trying to control the plague that threatened to run rampant despite his exhausted state.
"It seems...that even you...haven't found the path yet, my Lady..." The knight said, laughing bitterly, yet still respectfully. "Leave, my Lady, for they have 'converted me'. I don't have much longer..."
"I'm here...to give you one last gift..." (Y/n) said softly, cold air leaving her thin lips, frosty like the gaze in her eyes.
"One...that may even help prolong your path to your fated end." She said softly as she knelt before him.
She was tired, having exerted most her powers into summoning the tides, still unused to properly controlling it over the centuries of unending dormancy. She wanted to rest, perhaps even curl up while she cuddled her tail like a child. But now wasn't the time for it.
There were duties to be fulfilled...
Swiftly lifting up her hands, she exercised hand signs of various meanings as if it were her second nature, much more precise than that blind woman that existed before she broke those shackles binding her down.
The only way to progress in life...was to accept and adapt.
Her pointer finger and middle finger together held up before her, she shut her eyes as she began to trace the spores that existed within the man's body. With swift and precise movements, she immediately moved swift as the wind, and as piercing as a dragon's talon.
Unlike the woman that had just awoken, blind and foolish to the world that revolved around her, tossing smiles and laughter like the fleeting leaves in the air...she was no longer shackled, nor bound.
Unlike her past...she would never act foolishly again fearing the recurring pitiful demise of a dreamer who lived to dance and love.
(Y/n) stood up, a soft sigh leaving her lips as she dusted off her clothes. The team approached her side, looking down at the soldier before them, lying on the ground as if he were taking a nap from a grueling shift. Her eyes softened, the feelings of mercy and regret ebbing away at her soul.
"What...happened to him ?" March asked softly, holding Stelle's hand for comfort.
"Did you...give him his final embrace, Lady (Y/n) ?" Tingyun slowly asked, trying to step around the bubbling waters.
(Y/n) didn't turn around to face them, but instead parted her lips to give her response, a hand raised to her ear to gently touch the trinket that hung from her pointed organ. "Nothing. Just...soothed his pain a little."
Then she took in a deep breath, looking forward, as if regaining her peace by touching the windchime. "Right. Should we stumble upon a recuperation camp, let's inform them of this one. At the very least, they would be able to send this one to the Ten-Lords Commission."
Along the path, they stumbled across more bodies that have been swept up in the clashing of worlds. Divine celestial beings on the ground with wounds healing at an impossible rate, fallen bodies of the Knights that have half transformed into the forsaken, life leaving their beings before their twisted methods were complete.
There were even some which (Y/n) had them stop in the middle of the way to provide relief, either putting them to sleep to induce the pain, or freezing their cores and helping them relax as they healed after fierce and relentless battles.
But one thing caught her eye. That amicassador.
The Dragon Lady's gaze never left her being, always keeping her in the outermost corner of her sight. There was...something odd about her. Perhaps the striders of the trailblaze would've never noticed, but she sensed...a cosmical energy emanating from that Foxian girl.
There's just something...off with this girl. The way she talks, her interests, her stance during the fight earlier. Something wasn't right.
She didn't have much time to ponder. Due to their thundering steps of different weights and paces, they began to alarm the individuals standing guard past the wall they were about to round.
"Who goes there ?! Show yourselves !" Called out a clear voice of a male, sense of urgency and alert in his tone.
Cloud Knights. They had really reached their temporary base.
Welt took charge, walking ahead of them to confront the guards. "We come in peace." He said, almost making the rest of them snicker in amusement with the way he walked up to them with raised hands.
The guards, of course, didn't seem to take this lightly. But there was relief shining in their eyes when they see the esteemed guests of the General of the Xianzhou Luofu escorting the long awaited Dragon Lady.
"Saltator Lunae !" They sighed in relief. "Quickly, in here ! It's dangerous outside."
"You knew we were coming already ?" March said as they were escorted by one of the guards into the camp, the other standing guard. March was quite curious to how the Cloud Knights weren't that much fazed by their arrival.
"The Master Diviner prophesized your arrival. We were ordered to wait for you under any circumstance." He assured with a steady nod of his helmeted head.
"So...the Master Diviner is already here ?" (Y/n) asked, storing away her fan since she deemed it to be safe for her and her companions.
"Yes. The Master Diviner ordered us to remained stationed here and went to scout ahead." He affirmed again. "They're saying the Disciples of Sanctus Medicus have returned-- they haven't been seen for an age. The troops are anxious."
"I...can imagine." She said with a slight nod of her own head.
"It's good you arrived. The Master Diviner said the Knights weren't to move out until you arrived." He said, but then remembered one more important note.
"Right. While you are here, and we're awaiting the next orders of the Master Diviner, there is something that needs to be clarified." He said seriously, looking at the group. "This is as far as Lady (Y/n) will follow you, esteemed guests of the General."
The group gasped a little, but they were by no chance much surprised. They knew they were missioned to just escort her, but was it just until here, or would they re-group ? But it was the General's orders.
"May I ask what happens from now on ?" (Y/n) asked, a little curious to her next course of fate that awaited her.
The Cloud Knight nodded, standing straight before the honorable woman before him. "Yes, my Lady. General Jing Yuan himself had ordered us to have you wait here. He will come soon, and lead a separate path from the Master Diviner."
"As far as we are informed, you will be joining him on a more confrontational matter."
For some reason she felt a tingle spark up her spine. For some reason she was anxious. For some reason...she was scared.
Something bad was bound to happen.
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adrixivy · 15 days ago
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Headcanon that Peter is the reason if missions go well or not and it all depends if he opened his mouth or not. I’m simply saying that he would somehow run his mouth and villains are on his ass immediately and not because of his parker luck. That does worse things. Peter always gotta say something or he just happened to somehow cause more chaos than it already did when he says something and he doesn’t even mean to say it. And the team either enjoys it or are in a manic state of panic.
The Avengers are on a mission to infiltrate one of the last remaining Hydra bases. And they need to be undercover for this. Like really stealthy and quiet. They want to gather information about the last few bases and what other information are left in Hydra that wasn’t already leaked. So imagine how surprised Tony and Steve is to be walking and then simply watch a body fly past them as said flying body screams. Tony looked over and groans and Steve sighs deeply.
Peter, who was stopped by a giant that didn’t recognize him and asked if he was new in Russian and tried speaking the little Russian Nat taught him and said something entirely different: You’re built like one of those ugly giants in that one show- (he tried to compliment the guy’s huge build to distract him but it was backfired)
Said giant growls and smacked him, making him fly back and hit a wall ten feet away with a groan. And the whole mission is already compromised within 15 minutes. 15!
The two adults rushed to him and helped him up and already three of the Avengers are compromised and soon the Hulk is out smashing through goons, Thor landed right outside the base without a care about stealth and is hitting people with his hammer and thunder crackles in the snowy habitat, making alarms sound off and the whole Avengers are simply compromised.
Peter and Tony is suited up in their nano-tech suit whereas Steve took out his shield that was shrunk and enlarged it with some Pym particles that was gifted to them from Scott. The team was quickly surrounded by all the men in the base and Peter smiled sheepishly at Tony who rolled his eyes. Armed men are charging at them with war cries yet Peter can't help but not stay quiet as his pop culture references came out.
Peter fighting the giant that flung him earlier: Hey big guy, what you did was not nice! I'm not some Roblox ragdoll for you to throw around!
Peter after webbing up the giant and fighting alongside Tony and Steve: Don't you think we're like the four horseman in Now You See me 2? Just that we're seven people! We get compromised but in the end, the odds are in our favor!
Tony, having seen the movie with Peter before and understood the references, couldn't help but grin: I guess kid.
Steve, incredibly confused: The four what now??
Soon, the base was taken over and Natasha and Clint managed to get their objectives and they all return home. And it's an incredibly hilarious experience to them now.
Now imagine, it being entirely opposite. They're in a open battle, full on repulsors shooting beams everywhere, Steve's shield thrown around and knocking out enemies, punches and kicks thrown, arrows flying, thunder cracks loudly in the sky as a hammer flies through mobs. It all seems quite loud to anyone else but the Avengers find it quiet. Too quiet. Like something or someone is missing. And they don't even realise in the midst of it. And the mission even ends well. And Rhodey is here too and he's always the first to realise and Tony's second.
Bruce who oversaw everything that happened in the mission: Today went well!
Steve, genuinely surprised too: Yeah. Surprisingly.
Rhodey, realising something is missing: Surprisingly quiet, you mean. Now I just realised, the whole battle was quiet. Tones, you thinking what I'm thinking.
Tony, hand placed up to stop everyone from talking as if hearing for something and his hand immediately dropped and his eyes are widened in terror when he doesn't hear what he was searching for: Where's the kid.
And the whole Avengers are panicking, everyone immediately dispersed and they're all looking for him.
Imagine Tony's relief when he saw Peter playing with puppies on top of a roof. (Peter saved three puppies and was about to leave them on the roof away from danger and leap back into the battle but the puppies cried out for him and he immediately melted and stayed there the entire time, playing with them as the sounds of destruction did nothing to pull him out of the puppies grasp)
Needless to say, the Avengers returned with three puppies that day.
Inspired by a post from irondadapiderson4ever!
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cheatsykoopa98 · 6 months ago
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its 4 AM and im trying not to freak out, let me write something to see how I feel
Her eyes opened and closed repeatedly, slowly. The dim light coming from the window let her know that it was daytime, everything felt so fuzzy. What had happened? What time was it? Her arm reached to her side looking for something on her counter. Glasses? Phone? She didn't know for sure yet. Slowly she realized, this was not her room, it was clean, white walls with a brown carpet. She sat by the side of the bed, still not fully awake, feeling the soft carpet on her feet. It then came to her: She needed her glasses, and quickly reached for them again. A yawn overcame her and as her thoughts became clear, she noticed her surrounding. It was a very tidy bedroom, with horse decorations on the counter by the other side of the bed. Figurines and a small pony plushie sat by it. The half open closet door had a coat hanger with skirts and sweaters on it, barely visible coming out of it. She scratched her eyes under her glasses. Another yawn. It had been long since she felt so... Calm? Paying no mind to the apparently unfamiliar bedroom, she moved her feet around the sides of the bed, looking for any kind of footwear. She felt the rubber of a sole under the bed. Her crocs. Quickly she put it on with only her foot, while the other moved around looking for the pair. Another object touched her foot, a soft one, a slipper. Slightly bothered but too lazy to find each pair, she finally got up, opening the bedroom door. The morning sunlight blinding her for a second before her eyes adjusted to it. She could hear a faint noise not tol far away, the sound of someone talking, and the smell of food being prepared. Following it, she found the kitchen. The smell of grease from the fried eggs with bacon got to her nose and made her realize how hungry she was.
"Uh... Hello?" She muttered with a grumbly morning voice. Her head was still not wrapped around everything. It felt so comforable yet so alien. As if she had travelled to a different culture and was kindly taken in by some nice hosts.
"Oh did I wake you up? I'm so sorry, I shouldn't leave my phone so loud..." A woman in her 30s took notice of her. She was making breakfast while listening to the morning news on her phone, quickly grabbing it and turning off the livestream it was tuned to.
"Don't worry..." She muttered in response. She tried to take a closer look at the woman. She had curly reddish brown hair, small lips and a round nose. Her face was filled with freckles that were clearly visible despite her tan skin. What took some time to notice, though, was everything about her eyes. At first she thought she was seeing things, but upon looking more and more she could confirm. One eye blue, the other brown, both very bright. Even with her tired face one could see genuine happiness in them.
"Am I... Dreaming?"
"Aaw, you're still a little sleep groggy! Come here" The woman with bright eyes pulled a chair, inviting the other to sit down. As she did, the woman put a plate and silverware in front of her, with fried eggs and bacon.
"I think I don't usually have breakfast, but... Thank you" She tried to smile, but she was still confused. She had to ask.
"Is this really not a dream? I'm... not sure what to think"
"Oh, well... I can't say I do either, honestly" The woman responded. "If you don't like it I can make something else! I can go out and buy..." The woman suddenly appeared to be getting nervous.
"No, this is good, but... Where am I? I remember the circus..." Suddenly the woman held her hand.
"The circus is gone Pomni... I mean, Pam. Everything is fine now" It was all clear now. Pam. Pamela! She had escaped that horrible nightmare. This wasn't just some woman, it was her wife. Tears came to her eyes.
"Oh... You're right..." Pamela smiled a bit, feeling whole while taking one of the bacons to eat.
"I know it's our first day out of the hospital, I just wanted to make it special, you know? I don't like thinking you're having a bad first experience..." Annie tapped her fingertips on the table nervously.
"Rag... Annie... This is delicious, did you know that?" Pamela had a bigger smile on her face, a genuine one she couldn't have afforded for years.
"Look... I'm sorry, this is all so new to me... I just... Thank you..."
"Hey, it's all cause I love you!" Annie winked and did finger guns at Pamela's direction, waving them around in a "get it?" motion. Pamela giggled. They kissed.
"I've been wanting to do that for so long..." Pamela muttered close to Annie's lips, as they both smiled looking at each other passionately.
"We'll be doing that a lot, new stuff" Annie smiled as they kissed once more. Suddenly, Annie's phone vibrated on the kitchen counter, getting both of their attention. Annie picked it up, looking at the screen, a familiar number
"It's work stuff" She showed the phone screen to Pam, rolling her eyes, to which she giggled a bit.
"Hello?"
As Annie talked on the phone, her usual look of happiness faded. Whatever she heard shook her. She fell sitting on the floor, sliding down the side of the counter. Pamela jumped in to aid her wife.
"W-What happened?! What did they say?!" She questioned, anxious and scared. Maybe she did not want to hear the answer.
"A new adventure is about to begin! And what circus is complete without it's performers?!"
"w-what?"
"It's time to come back, Pomni! Your time out is on time out!!!"
Pamela looked behind her. No kitchen. No house. Just the monstrous, gigantic dentures and millions of eyes everywhere, looking at her. The mere sight of it was enough to make her dizzy. Looking closer, she realized she stood atop a giant pole, ready to jump into a tiny pool.
"Caine... What the..." As words couldn't leave her throat. Where was Annie? Pomni spun around trying to find her, only to lose her balance and fall.
She couldn't scream, for her lungs were filled with tears, and with a gurgling noise, she hit the floor next to her couch. A dream. There was no daylight. She remembered this place. Her run down apartment. All she could afford. Her clothes scattered on the bed, waiting to be folded. Paper bags from groceries she forgot to take out close to a full trash can. The living room illuminated by her phone, which she was watching videos on before falling asleep.
She was breathing heavily, her eyes jolting around, looking for danger anywhere, but still she was unable to move or turn around. Just shaking and moving her eyeballs. She bit her nails and scratched her cheeks. It was like second nature to her. She felt like crying, but was too scared to let her guard down.
That is, until she felt a hand touching her hair. It was clumsy, but still soft.
"Hmrr... Are you ok, Pam...?" A sleepy voice grumbled. Annie's voice, much to Pamela's surprise. As it slowly came back to her.
"I... Had a nightmare... About the circus again..." She said with teary eyes. Annie grumbled something she couldn't make out, before slowly pulling Pamela back to the couch, closer to her. She could feel Annie's soft skin and soothing smell. Her soft carressing on her hair. The safety and warmth of her embrace. Slowly but surely, she felt home.
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saintsenara · 5 months ago
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Hey!
My main takeaway from your unhinged ships series - which provides me with limitless entertainment btw so thank you for your service - is how intricate your knowledge of the HP series is!
I'm kind of in a weird limbo rn where I have a great love for this world and the series but JKR's behaviour in recent years has completely turned me off the whole thing. I've been too disheartened to engage with the canon material in any real sense for years, but your exploration of it is kind of rekindling my interest. Do you have any thoughts on this?
Also, is HP like your niche or do you possess an encyclopaedic knowledge on any other works of literature or pop culture phenomena? This is just pure curiosity on my end.
thank you very much for this anon! it's extremely sweet.
how to reconcile being a part of this fandom - and, especially, how to be in a corner of the fandom which places more emphasis on the text than others - with jkr's decision to become a bigot is a question i'm sure we've all spent a lot of time on, and it's one which is going to have an inherently subjective answer.
my personal view is that she'll never get another penny out of me - i'm persevering with my original copies of the books, judiciously sellotaped; i won't engage at all with the upcoming television adaptation; i've not seen the fantastic beasts films; i wouldn't go and see cursed child; i wouldn't play hogwarts legacy; i don't buy merch and so on - but that writing my little stories and yapping away on my little tumblr is fine, because it's an engagement with the series which, no matter how much it focuses on the text she wrote, is still mine rather than hers.
but - of course - there are entirely reasonable arguments against this position, in either direction. someone who does engage more with jkr's post-radicalisation output could justifiably say that - since i've written stories involving delphini, who only exists because of cursed child, the fact that i've never seen or read the play is irrelevant and my insistence that there's a meaningful distinction between enjoying the expanded world of the series and enjoying the expanded world of the series in a way jkr materially benefits from is performative nonsense. someone else could justifiably say that jkr benefits [directly and indirectly] from all fandom engagement, even if that fandom engagement is critical of her and even if it doesn't financially support her - the upcoming television adaptation, for example, wouldn't have been greenlit if hbo didn't think it would get an audience, and the continued vitality of the harry potter fandom undoubtedly contributed to their belief that it would.
neither of these arguments are wrong - although neither is objectively correct either. each of us has to form a subjective opinion, be ok with it, and be open to changing it as time passes.
and i do genuinely think that engaging with the text as a text - something else i bang on about all the time - is helpful when it comes to reconciling everything.
i know it sounds very pretentious [and i also suspect that many people think the series isn't "well-written" enough to justify such pretension...] to say that the fandom needs to get better at embracing a variety of methods of reading the text and understanding the author's relationship to it.
this isn't me saying that anyone who wants to get into fandom needs to be able to rattle of the names of literary theorists, or be able to give an answer to "the series is historiographic metafiction: discuss".
[although if anyone would like to try and argue in favour of that proposition... i'd shriek.]
what it is is me saying that the dominant way of reading the text in the fandom - which is to focus on the reader's emotional response [and, above all, the reader's emotional response in childhood] - can end up giving jkr quite a bit more authority in how we engage with the series than she deserves. it's why many of us might say that we feel she's "betrayed" or "taken something away from" us, for example - and it's why many of us might feel that she's forced us into approaching the series in ways which decentre the canon material.
and this is - obviously - a completely legitimate way of engaging and responding. but there's also a lot to be gained from thinking outside of our emotional responses about things like the genre conventions which govern the series, the tropes and archetypes it uses, its language and syntax, its existence as something standalone, the other works of literature which influence it, and the social and historical context in which it was written. treating the series as "just" some books reduces jkr's authority over our response to it - and while the argument that this doesn't mean anything in the real world, since all she's going to care about is that people are reading her stuff, is an inherently reasonable one, i do think it has real-world benefits to us in how we square the circle of enjoying the text.
more controversially, though, i think it's also worth thinking about the personal context in which the series was written.
for me, the author is dead based on whether or not i need her to be. i don't think that the only valid interpretation of a text is the author's intended one, and i don't think that the only valid interpretation of a text is one dependent on matching parts of the story onto the author's biography. but i do think it's important for readers to know both what jkr understands the text as saying and what has happened in her life that bleeds through into it [such as the way her difficult relationship with her father and her experience of her mother's terminal illness undeniably influences the series' prioritisation of sacrifical motherhood and certain coolness towards fathers]. this doesn't mean agreeing with - or even empathising with - her by any means, it's just another tool in our arsenal when it comes to thinking of the series as no more or less special than any other piece of literature, and jkr no more or less important to our interpretation of it than any other author.
and i think it's worth saying that she doesn't seem to be someone who's bothered when fans say that she doesn't understand her own text or that she's lost the right to speak about it or that the fandom has taken it back from her - which is also why when people say that non-canon shipping [especially of queer pairings] must piss her off i think it's just cope - because she can spin that as these people being childish and unwilling to face reality.
but she does seem to be bothered by people who say "yeah, i know that's what you think and i know that's what you intended... but i disagree and you don't have the right to dictate otherwise".
[this is why - i think - she gets so frothingly pissed-off by daniel radcliffe's immaculate stance against her anti-trans bigotry. he's always very firm in saying "she can think what she wants, but - firstly - this isn't about what she thinks privately, it's about what she does publicly and - secondly - i think she's completely wrong and i'm not going to change my mind just because she wants me to", and she obviously doesn't like the fact that this is much harder to spin into the narrative that she's being "oppressed" and "victimised" than she'd like...]
the text is just a text, and she's just one woman, but our ways of reading are infinite and important and ours. the new horizon in literary theory is "fuck her, we ball".
[when it comes to "do i have a good memory?" the answer is "yes, but for purely useless information". when the question is whether that good memory relates to other pieces of pop culture, i'm either very lucky or very unlucky - depending on where you stand on such things - that the fandoms for hit millennial sitcoms don't seem to be large... otherwise i'd clearly be spending all my time writing epic nick/schmidt or liz lemon/jenna maroney romances and/or being cancelled for being in george michael/maeby nation...]
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notdiabolika · 11 days ago
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A Halloween Celebration?
The night an indo-caribbean got lost in a vampire’s ball.
Gift for @krispycremecake. Exchange planned by @diabolik-lovers-weekly.
| Featuring: Shu x Indo-caribbean fem reader x Subaru. 
[ ! ] Contains: swearing, biting and blood.
The heavy wooden door, adorned with a strange symbol, had been carelessly left wide open that night, October 31st. Purposeful or not, the fragrant smell of the ball invades the street, attracting curious glances into the hall where the ominous figures circle. — What are those youngsters doing? Listening to classical music, above all… They are not young. — It must be a funeral for the living! Not alive either. — Halloween wannabes. However, it is, in fact, Halloween. But for anyone young and alive, looking for a Halloween party, this seemed like the place to go. It was only strange when the door closed behind them…
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My time in Japan, up until that point, had been splendid. The streets ranged from the most colorful and illuminated by technological standards — like the nostalgic Tokyo — to more isolated, although equally special, places, like Kanashimashi.
Japanese customs and streets are different from those in the Caribbean, in some places they are equally crowded, although oriental architecture has a more minimalist style of housing outside of large metropolises. At least, that's what I thought, until I found this little city treasure and a loose invitation to a gala ball with Halloween props. I didn't even know it was celebrated here, much less planned my visit with this in mind. But I, as a curious person, am more than prepared for a night of mischief that will sweeten my taste buds.
— Excuse me — I barely enter the party before the doors abruptly close behind me, giving me a scare that almost makes me lose my balance.
The eyes that fell on my figure were… intoxicating. I have to confess: my outfits are a bit simple compared to others. I just wear a black floral dress, exaggerated stitching details on the sides and hem, as well as heavier makeup, drawn to blue — a hurried parody of Corpse Bride, which in the middle of production turned into something. It happens to all of us who work under tight deadlines.
Seconds pass, but the vast majority of guests look at me as if I was a seven-headed animal, walking towards the red table, full of sweets filled with scarlet dye. I've never seen any of these before. Maybe it's something from Japanese culture.
I extend my hand to eat some sort of crooked cupcake, which I imagine is on purpose, ignoring those who stare at me and whisper with pure stubbornness.
— What are you doing?! — the poor cupcake goes flying, scattering on the polished floor. The perpetrator of the attack is a tall man, almost six feet tall, albino, frowning, with his sleeves pushed up to his elbows. — Do you have issues?
The words catch in my throat, a mixture of surprise and hatred forming. But I choke on them, his hand tugging at my wrist and making me stumble across the room to try to keep up with his quick steps.
— What the hell… — he even has the audacity to hold me by the waist. — This is the worst thing that could happen today!
That "little" dude, who doesn't look more than eighteen years old at most, is not only rude but also shouts. So I shout back.
— Stop dragging me, mate!
The only response I get is a snort. We crossed a large corridor until we reached the door at the end, with a small window giving a view of the garden outside.
— Shit, locked—
— Hello?! I'm talking to you. — I pull his arm as he tries to move my hand away. Our bodies are almost pressed together as I look him straight in the eyes. — Do I look like a dog to be taken wherever you want me to go?
Those crimson eyes, filled with stormy emotion, turned to me. A flash of guilt. His tense posture gives the impression that the boy is about to jump on something (or someone) without thinking twice. However, that hustle gets a brief glimpse of respite when he stops and looks at me.
Even the rudest of boys could make my face burn with embarrassment by staring at me as intensely as this albino is staring at me. And he's not kind at all.
— Tch, it doesn't matter what you look like. — He turns his pale face away. For someone who has such bold talk, his skin and face have some very delicate features. — And if you want to know, it looks like someone is choking you.
— That was the concept! — more or less.
With one last breath, he opens a random room and barks his orders.
— Come in here, and stay until I find the key to the back door. — He sounds like he's punishing a disobedient child, although I'm sure I'm too old for that. I frown, crossing my arms — Don't make noise, and don't attract attention. And get on with it! Or you die.
The words hit me like a punch in the stomach, a human weakness that runs up my legs and makes me turn to that abnormal figure with a mix of confusion and genuine fear.
Is this a ball… a meeting of criminals?
— Why would I even trust you? — I take a step back, his expression changing to pure frustration with the slightest movement of mine that opposes him. — As far as I know, this is a Halloween ball.
A loud, amused laugh erupts from his thin lips, although his voice is thick and full of irritation.
—Halloween?! Look, I'm trying to help you here. — Suddenly, he turns his back. — But if you don't want to, that's fine! See what happens and how it ends. When I find a way to get you out of this place, I'll be waiting, right here.
In a flash, I realize: that boy has just disappeared, right under my nose. I feel around the walls looking for some kind of clue, magic trick, or smoke signal. This has to be some kind of prank, right?
Maybe I'm just in a weird roleplay group…
I laugh but then cover my mouth. No, that's not what I believe. But I would love it if it were true.
I decided that instead of trying to get back to that ballroom, maybe one of these rooms around me could help me. It's not possible that there isn't ONE single window to jump out of in such a big place, because the one the stranger wanted me to enter didn't have one.
The first doorknob is locked. The second is stuck. An event house completely locked to the public, perhaps? Or a simple inconvenience that disrupts my life. The third doesn't even move. I was hoping that the fourth attempt wouldn't decide to give in, because of the popular Japanese superstition that the number four had a direct connection with death. Well…
Guess which of the doors opened.
The dark and cold room really surprises me. None of the furniture is particularly interesting, all covered in a thin layer of dust, similar to what a storage room would be like. The view, however, is soft and bluish — the result of the full moon night outside, mountains in the background framed by the rounded window.
I walk towards it like a dragonfly floating towards the nearest light source. And in this thousandth of imprecision…
… I stumble.
My eyes close reflexively, hands reaching forward and collapsing against the floor. The rest of the fall is cushioned by flesh, a soft grunt below reassuring me that, whatever this is, it's alive. Although strangely cold.
—Haa… why does this always happen to me…
The deep voice resounds in the air, slurred and lazy words from someone who has just woken up and doesn't even think about getting up. The man below me seems to have stepped out of the most distant fairy tales. Blonde, blue eyes that shine so softly that it's as if a firefly had landed between his eyelids and decided to live there. His entire face has a sleepy, dreamlike air that is difficult not to look at.
But of course, he's still a stranger sleeping in an empty room — and his clothes aren't too shabby for him to be in this situation out of necessity.
— You smell like Subaru. And you're a human being… what a peculiar combination for a closed ball like this. —Yet here he is, babbling things I don't entirely understand. When I try to stand up, his hand gently pulls me back. — No. Since you decided to fall on me, now you're not leaving anytime soon…
I don't particularly mind this turn of events.
—What is going on? I just came to take a look, and suddenly this guy… Subaru started pulling me.
At this point, I've convinced myself that the Halloween fun party I saw in the pamphlet is not the same as this one and that, apparently, I need to get out of there as quickly as possible. But I have a very strong curse called curiosity. Also, if it's something illegal, maybe I should run away and tell the police.
— Heh, you don't know much, do you? — the tone is mocking at first, but the soft and carefree expression begins to wrinkle over time, seriousness enveloping his bright irises. — This is a celebration between beings of the night, to congratulate the birthday of our demon king.
Oh, right. It's a sect thing.
Some pretty disturbing thoughts start to flood my mind as I think about what kind of atrocities happen at parties like this. An unpleasant shiver runs down my spine.
— I know… — nothing. — And why don't let me go out the front door instead of the back door, if that Subaru really wants to get me out of here? It doesn't make any difference.
I think I'm having my worries and anxieties ignored when those long lashes cover his eyes, but the low murmur comes quickly:
— Magic. You must have walked into the place of the human we were waiting for and the door closed by itself. It's definitely the last scenario that would cross my mind in a situation like this. Skepticism would never allow it, and it was about to double: — A shame that the only one who has the keys left, looking for Yui. The other vampires will show no mercy if they catch you here.
And with this speech, finally, everything makes sense again.
— Vampires? — assuming it’s not a codename for crazy cultists… — The mythological creature?
His brow furrows again.
— What else would we be talking about?
I fall beside him, laughing like a child on the night of mischief;
— Oh, stop! Mythical creatures roam a ball conveniently open to everyone, even if you say it was an accident, and a handsome young man — the compliment was completely acidental, too — is the one who appears to save the night and remove the person who accidentally ended up here. What chapter of the RPG campaign are we in?
His laugh follows mine, though it's nasal, pure entertainment at my expense.
— You don't believe vampires exist?
— Imagine if there were creatures as fast and fleeting as vampires. One would notice the same faces walking around a small town like this. — A pretty useless argument to have out of nowhere, but what else could I do if I had to wait until the door was opened? — How boring. Everything about this party is just a big prank. It would be cool if they had actual real vampires.
Sure, lip service, but who cares! They are not real.
— And if there were, would you let them bite you?
Still, that story that if I stepped outside, I would have my neck chased by vampires. How cliché.
— Oh, sure. — Irony dances across my lips. I lift the hem of the dress with my hands as I rise from the floor, straightening the wrinkled fabric and making it smooth again. — Now excuse me, I have better places to be.
Praying that the white ghost with red eyes wouldn't appear, I walk around the strange lying man in order to reach the door — until I realize that he's no longer there.
— … Well, you said it. — He pulls me back into a hug. — Don't blame me for listening to your own words before you leave.
The voice behind me surprises me a lot, but no more than the lazy canines that prowl in the space between my shoulder and my neck. The fright makes me shiver due to the sudden cold contact. He's so sharp… Much more than I would be comfortable with imagining that supernatural beings are nothing more than literary tales and stories to scare spoiled little children.
— W-wait a second—
I can almost imagine him smiling as he brushes a strand of my hair away, his princely lips resembling the curve of a demon pressing a kiss to my shoulder.
— You know, it's a really bad night for something like this to happen… the full moon makes us all a little dizzy. But don't worry. I won't let anyone take you from here.
The explosive presence appears accompanied by an equally unexpected slam of the doorknob against the wall — which even has a hole in that exact same place —, nothing in the hands. No set of keys, absolutely no way out of this hell.
— Agh… Shu! What are you doing?! If it wasn't enough that idiot Reiji disappeared with those keys…
Shu. That being moves its teeth away from my skin with some reluctance when it sees the new apparition in the room, staring at the albino over my bare shoulder, due to the model of the dress. His chin slides down, resting against my arm as if he were an innocent, sleepy human. However, I don't think I will find anything like that today.
— It's useless. Unless you want to break the fixed windows and deal with the costs dictated by our father, nothing here opens. — Subaru opens his mouth to argue, but his shoulders slump, as if in the end he finds that his (apparent) sibling is right. —Which means that if we want to protect such a mortal, we will have to stay inside.
My heart feels like it's going to jump out of my mouth at any moment. Maybe I'm having some kind of psychosis, but I swear that before I look, fangs are sprouting from those same rough pouty lips. He looks like an even younger boy as he grimaces and closes the room's door.
— It that serious? I didn't want that. — With a conflicted expression, he covers his face with his hand, walking towards the window to look outside. — It seems like this never ends… it was a bad idea from the beginning, with the shitty weather outside.
I don't think I've ever seen a moon as full and perfectly round as that one. It makes me more aware of my surroundings, beyond the cold air, the small warmth I transmit to the man hugging me, my rapid breathing having to find a spot to calm down.
— I think it's a better alternative than letting vampires walk the streets on a night like this and take anyone as prey… at least, I think that's what that guy wanted to prevent tonight, as the king. — Shu mutters. — And as for the moon… Well, I guess we can't be expected to be able to hold ourselves back in such a situation.
Subaru turns his head immediately, eyes wide as he grabs my arm in an anxious instance.
— Tch, what are you, a forest beast? — suddenly, that guy doesn't seem so angry anymore. The tone is low as if generated from genuine… concern? — What if this attracts more attention and they want to hurt her?
Everything around me is so clear, too nitid to not be real. At that moment I realize, despite the exasperation and his breathless tone, that Subaru really doesn't seem to wish me any harm. He's just irritated and wants to help.
— I didn't want to say it like that in front of a stranger, but… I think just by the way you look at her, I can tell that you haven't had anything to drink in a while.
Shu manages to make the man even paler than he already is, and afterward, a persistent blush covers his cheeks.
— So what?! I can hold on a little longer…
I stay quiet, just wanting to see where this goes.
— You were always very stubborn. — The blonde shakes his head again. — Come on, she said she doesn't mind.
— She did?! — the flustered one sounds almost jealous.
— Just accept the proposal…
One hesitant and the other insistent, their shoes meet the toes of my flats, both looking at me with an untainted yet restrained thirst. My breath seems to catch in my throat after being looked at so intensely. I know I should be scared, still thinking it's all part of some cruel joke…
But if vampires exist, I will never find any where I live— not in a place with an average of thirty degrees during the summer, anyway — and I would never have an opportunity as curiously peculiar as this.
— I'll let you both... try that, I suppose.
When both lips rest above my collarbones, I just close my eyes. I want to feel what it's like without seeing it.
The piercing pain comes quickly, makes you grunt, but soon emerges into anesthetizing relief. Impossible to explain, but it's as if butterflies lodged in your stomach and made you believe that the pain never existed. As if you were floating, with two men supporting your weight as gently as the faint bite of their fangs.
I lose track of time briefly. I just know it's over when I see Shu walking away from me, satisfied with the small feast. A pleasant silence ensues.
— Better? — the blue eyes turn to the red ones, which quickly avoid his.
— Tch. I don't know, whatever…
I end up laughing a little against the worn fabric, leaning against the hothead's chest who still holds me for a few seconds before letting me go. Touching the walls, I sit on a chair to the side.
— I think I need to eat something salty.
And all I saw in that room were sweets…
— It's ideal… — the sleepy man soon leans towards a chair on the other side of the table, sliding down until he appears to be almost lying down. — I think you should go get some sweets, Subaru.
— Hah?! Why me?
It turns out that that strange situation I found myself in soon turned into almost… a date. Subaru, very upset, went out to get a tray of snacks in worrying shades of red.
—Is this… blood? — I ask warily, moving away from the table at the thought.
��� Hmph… no, just snacks from the demon world and an excessive amount of ketchup. — Shu whispers with notable disinterest. — The appetite of some vampires is stimulated by the color red.
Curious, I pick up some peculiarly shaped fries and dip them in ketchup. It crackles in my mouth with its crunch, but it's neither greasy nor too salty.
— I think it's ridiculous… it just makes you hungrier.
Subaru's blunt comment makes my chest tighten a little.
— Eat with me, I'll feel bad eating alone.
Another typical nasal laugh comes from the blonde, probably noticing the irony in my concern after being bitten by two vampires at the same time.
— If you feed me, maybe so.
— Hey! That's not fair- I want some too.
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I have been trying to find the username of this person [@krispycremecake], but haven't found it on Tumblr! If someone could help me I would be very greatful.
Wish everybody a good night 🖤
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aquilathefighter · 2 years ago
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Aquila dear, I cannot wait to hear your opinion on the choice of raven/crow species for Matthew and Jessamy 💛 Would you have any headcanon on which species Lucien(ne) might have been back when they were Dream's raven ? 👀
Hi! So sorry it's taken so long to get around to this! I have so many thoughts!!!
I'll start with the caveat that the distinction between crow and raven is not scientific. They both refer to members of the genus Corvus and there is no clear distinction between what is a crow and what is a raven. As such, I don't get too worked up about the differences in common names.
Matthew is a common raven (Corvus corax). I think this fits him for a number of reasons.
He's American! We only have two "raven" species here (and four crows but that's besides the point), and the common raven is by far the more widely distributed species compared to the Chihuahuan Raven, which is as its name implies, restricted to the areas in and around the Chihuahuan desert. I'm not sure if we know exactly where he's from, but he has a general American accent to me, so I can get away with placing him virtually anywhere on the West Coast, Appalachians or Northwest.
Common ravens are very gregarious! They're often seen in mated pairs or flocks. Matthew prefers to stay by Dream's side over and over and builds a pretty deep bond with him over the course of their relationship.
Play! Common ravens are often observed engaging in play, like somersaulting in flight or making toys out of twigs to share with others. To me, Matthew is very irreverent and playful in his own way, his crude behavior and language being a prime example.
I think common raven is such a great choice! I'm thrilled to bits that they had real ravens play his part in the show, it was honestly one of the first things I looked up about the production because I was just blown away that the birds were actually behaving like birds!!! But that's another rant for another time about animal portrayal in media.
Onto Jessamy! I haven't read the comics (where she appears to be a common raven as well, from some cursory research), so this will all be based on what little we get of her in season 1 of the show.
Jessamy is a pied crow (Corvus albus). According to the wikipedia entry for this species, it is said to be considered
"a small crow-sized raven, especially as it can hybridise with the Somali crow (dwarf raven) where their ranges meet in the Horn of Africa. Its behaviour, though, is more typical of the Eurasian carrion crows, and it may be a modern link (along with the Somali crow) between the Eurasian crows and the common raven." (Source)
Like I said, there's no reliable division between crow and raven and it's just the common names, so there's no big deal in her being portrayed as a species that has "crow" in its name.
Sociality. Pied crows are, similarly to the common raven, typically found in mated pairs or small flocks. Jessamy is very loyal to Dream, staying by his side during his captivity until her untimely death. I would argue that most Corvus species would be a good fit as they tend to stay with the individuals they are bonded to, but I see no reason why pied crow wouldn't be chosen over another species!
Distribution. While we don't have any idea where Jessamy was from when she was alive, she is also given a widely distributed species that we could reasonably place her in many parts of Africa, along either coast up until the Sahara Desert, but not in the thick rainforests of countries like the Democratic Republic of Congo.
Exposure to another species! The Sandman was written by an English author, originally scripted and performed in English, and in my opinion, culturally directed towards the Anglosphere. As such, folks who speak English as their first language may have never heard of the pied crow, and may only be familiar with the common raven! I think its a great way to get people to investigate more into a bird they've never seen before.
Now, let's talk about Lucienne! We know she was Dream's first raven, but not really any timing about when he first took a raven companion. As such, I'll simply consider any extant Corvus species for her. She has an English accent, so I will simplify my choices to species found in England. I'm just making this assumption without much reasoning other than it's fun to imagine that the ravens come into being reflecting species found where they lived as humans.
I'm going to choose common raven (C. corax) for Lucienne as well, but for different reasons than why it's a suitable species for Matthew. They are, after all, very different personalities.
Mainly, common ravens are highly intelligent! Lucienne is the Dreaming's librarian at present, and would thus have to have very high reasoning and problem solving skills. This is typical for common ravens and corvid intelligence has been highly studied in this species!
My other big reason for choosing this species is that, well, you can't beat a classic. If Lucienne is the first raven, then it's fitting that she be the type species for the genus Corvus and the first thing people think of when they hear "raven."
Thank you so much for asking and giving me the opportunity to smash my two main interests together like I'm mixing 2 colors of playdoh in preschool <3 <3
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kylesvariouslistsandstuff · 5 months ago
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The Pixar shift saga continued:
All over twitter and even BlueSky, I see it, and it's quite something. Hell, people I know who barely ever talk about animation, or film or pop culture for that matter, are talking about it... Animators, artists, filmmakers, critics... All calling it out.
Namely, Pixar CCO Pete Docter's words on having Pixar - at the behest of Disney executives - move away from telling "autobiographical" stories, making films that are personal to their respective filmmakers... Hollow, corporate words that I bet he was "supposed" to say.
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The backlash is almost feverish. To the point where some are reading it as Pixar catering to white people only, given that two of those "autobiographical" films are... Let's see... TURNING RED, directed by Chinese-Canadian Domee Shi, and ELEMENTAL, directed by Korean-American Peter Sohn. SOUL as well, Docter's latest directorial endeavor, which was co-directed/written by Kemp Powers. Whether the intent is "no more autobiographical/personal stories" or "no more stories told from different cultural backgrounds", the pull quote is still NOT a good look. Hell, I'd say this looks worse than the time John Lasseter fired Brenda Chapman off of BRAVE.
And I wonder if this quote, otherwise tucked away on some cynical Bloomberg article whose writer feels that sequels will "restore Pixar's magic", getting all this scrutiny online possibly leads to... Pipe dream... A clarification at the very least? Some kind of backtracking?
Look I'm no dummy, corporations are gonna corporation. I'm pretty sure if Disney overlords are mandating it, it's gonna happen either way. Bob Iger's whole deal, after taking back the reigns from Bob Chapek (who he appointed in the first place), is this need to make the films "better". And that means interfering with the filmmakers instead of considering every other variable: High budgets, competition, a much different marketplace, how COVID wrecked everything and accelerating long-gestating problems in the industry, etc.
But the statements didn't go unnoticed, and there's some hot water brewing. Maybe an animation news site, particularly one that practically THRIVES off of this kind of drama, amplifies it. And maybe, just maybe... A little controversy erupts over it? Part of me feels that this won't go unnoticed, it already hasn't in some circles. Twitter and BlueSky and such are not real life, but I think the eruption over this quote speaks volumes. Pixar is often associated with original storytelling that's often from the filmmakers' passions and hearts, and to hear Docter essentially say "We're not going to do that anymore" has been a shock to many, myself included.
And again, if you've read my previous rants on this, I don't blame Docter. I think he's merely just saying what Iger's cronies want him to say. He said something similar a year ago after ELEMENTAL was released:
"I always felt that ELEMENTAL would speak to a lot of people, and I'm so happy it has... But we have also taken another look at the projects we're working on now. What are the kinds of films we want to be making? I really think I want to double down on what allowed us to speak to audiences to begin with."
This quote, from October of last year, went relatively unnoticed. This seems to put it into perspective better, even if it's a little more vague. This sounds more "let's play up certain commercial elements" and not "squash out the personal stuff".
I don't mind a compromise where an artistic vision shares the 90 minutes with what the bean counters call "general appeal" or whatever. Often times, that's just how the sausage is even made in animation-land, even if it makes for results we might not always like. That's literally the entirety of Disney Animation's output from the mid-'90s up until the mid-'00s. Films like HUNCHBACK OF NOTRE DAME had things like the silly gargoyles and fart jokes, yet they were still allowed to have some really great stuff in them and really cool filmmaking that young animation fans marvel at today. It's even a thing in the praised '10s movies, too. And a lot of the non-Disneys, too. NIMONA, for example. Take away the punk edge and LGBTQIA+ perspective, and it's quite similar to a lot of Western animated movies, particularly the "mild-mannered character gets saddled with the funny and unpredictable sidekick" thing with Ballister and Nimona, and that end-of-2nd-act breakup.
Outside of the SPIDER-VERSE movies and maybe PUSS IN BOOTS 2, it's typically imperfect in the American feature animation circuit. There's almost always behind the scenes battles and compromising, and ultimately, I'm happy if we still get a film that looks like something the filmmakers had a great time making and were able to work around certain notes/mandates/etc.
This is merely speculation on my part, but what matters is that the quote that's under fire is recent. Like, days ago recent. And I wonder what'll happen from here... Things go as Iger wants them to go? Or some kind of attempt at correction?
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johannestevans · 9 months ago
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do you know of any accounts around that center more uhhhh diverse understandings of gender? or just being trans? it some times feels like when i cast a wider net or just look out of accounts I'm familiar with, i suddenly don't exist? and not to be dramatic but that over some time it's beginning to isolate me from my trans identity.
LIKE I'll leave accounts i feel comfortable and seen in and just a little taste of what ill see is;
hurtful generalization that can only be true if your white/perisex/abled/nt.
Critic of a demographic of trans people YOU fit into that would only apply if you were white/perisex/abled/nt.
Angry post that make it clear that op only manages to talk to white/perisex/nt people.
trans meme; hope your white/perisex/abled/nt.
"Everyone had THAT phase :)"(White supremacist/Terf)
"Oh well Black trans wome-!!!!") ["Boy i sure hope this isn't tokenization!!!!"] [*clicks Through to profile*] [*op proceeds never mentions a black trans person again*][*cat looking at camera from green text meme**tokenizing*]
and i bring up intersex and disabled ppl but I only have to deal with being a Black trans person, and not to give the game away(of what this ask really is) i guess but like thats SOOOO worrying, it implies either that 1) there are not enough POC/intersex/disabled/neurodivergent trans ppl to meaningfully incorporate into the theory/jokes/positivity or 2) The greater online trans community does not think their perspective is meaningful in the first place.
(and then to actually give the game away) This IS lowkey a Whine post, but also i enjoy your blog 1) anything you wanna add? and 2) the posts on trans ppl you interact with make me feel seen not only in marginalizations that affect me but also those that affect people i have made community with.
p.s. this is long srry, i woke up downed the last of some radioactively blue drink than sat down to write this ask
I feel you! It sucks so fucking hard I think when like... you're intellectually aware that a lot of these perspectives - perspectives that just are the norm and the reality for so many people - just aren't taken into account by a lot of "mainstream" accounts, and that that's largely to do with whiteness as a culture (as in: a desire to sublimate and dominate any outsider culture or minority, either rendering it a commodity or rendering it invisible) and white supremacy, and all of the other bigotries that fold into that white-centric and anglo-centric view.
I don't know that I have a huge number of recs in terms of individual accounts - obviously I love @thewarmvoid, Salem always brings so much nuance and consideration to everything Salem does, whilst at the same time fucking battling off constant lynch mobs and bullshit; I don't know if fae're on Tumblr, but Anonsee Maytrix has a lot of class analyses and posts on Twitter and BlueSky; @spacelazarwolf posts a lot of different Jewish trans perspectives, and obviously I'm speaking from my own perspective of Jewish transmasculinity, but I find that a lot of different Jewish understandings of transness and gender stand out to me as critiquing a lot of the status quo around gender and sex; Idris at @bijoumikhawal is a long-time mutual of mine and they always not just have the best fucking analysis and takes of faer own but also curate such interesting and in-depth analysis from different perspectives and bloggers, from a huge variety of cultures and perspectives, especially from Egypt and other North African countries and regions; @xoxoviva posts a lot of great stuff, especially like, good meta on different shows and comics; @mamapluto posts and brings in a lot of Native American and different indigenous perspectives that I always love and appreciate seeing on my dash.
I unfortunately have a terrible memory for usernames and names, so whenever people ask me for recs like this I have a few people off the top of my head, and then I'm basically just left linking the people who are most recently in my notifs where I go, "oh, yeah, this person rocks", but I think that's because over time I've followed such a huge variety of people and I really enjoy connecting with different people and seeing such wildly different perspectives on one thing or other, whether that's in the analysis they post themselves, or just the people and communities they follow and are connected with, and what they then share on their own blogs.
I hope there are a few recs in here that suit what you're looking for and bring a bit more joy onto your timeline and a sense of being seen and reflected, Anon!
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philaet0s · 5 months ago
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WIP Wednesday
(It'll be Wednesday in like an hour so that counts... right?)
I had forgotten how frustrating it is writing without posting. I keep rereading my stuff and I'm giggling and kicking my feet and I CAN'T share it with other people yet. How awful. That's why I love an opportunity to share bits from WIPs aha
Carry On - fem!Snowbaz, childhood friends
Baz
“But it’s good, right? To be with other people. It’s what we’ve wanted for years!”
Not me. At first, maybe, but not since I have you. You could be my only friend in the world and that would be enough for me. 
I give her a noncommittal shrug. “I guess.”
“Oh, come on, don’t be like that. There’ll be other sleepovers, just you and me this time. Besides, aren’t you a little excited that your boyfriend is here?” she adds, nudging my arm, and I can see that her eyes are sparkling.
Sometimes, it really seems like Simone is happier about my relationship than I am.
I glance at the shape of Niall on the other side of the room and a smile grows on my face. “Right, that is nice, though I think I would have preferred it if it was just him and I too. I think I prefer being alone with a person rather than being with a group of people.”
Carry On - Natasha/Malcolm
Malcolm
Once Teddy is back and there aren’t any more people waiting for their drink, I tell him that I’m going to get more milk and go to the storage room where I open the note. Her handwriting is neat, very elegant. I can tell she used a fountain pain, but there isn’t a single stain or smudge. 
I will be at Watford for the next two weeks. Call me if you miss me. And a phone number.
How very confident of her to assume I would miss her. (Realistically, if she did not show up at the shop after what she told me at the restaurant the other night, I would. But still.)
I put the note back in my pocket, a giddy smile on my face. I have her permission to contact her while she’s away. How wonderful.
(man is down bad)
Captive Prince - post!canon Lamen
"For that same reason, I am considering Lord Damien of Arran, who you have not met. He was the Lord of Delfeur when it was still ours.”
Though he was speaking in Akielon, Laurent used the Veretian name of the province. It made Damen smile. A few months ago, he would have taken it as a war declaration. 
“He was one of our best generals at the Battle of Marlas, and he understands the peculiar blend of cultures and the difficult political situation of the border better than most men in Vere. Certainly better than I do,” Laurent adds, his voice changing slightly as he speaks of Marlas. Damen squeezes his hand.
“Then, Lady Adelaide of Lys. You have not met her either. She was destined to marry Auguste, had he taken a wife. Her father was a close friend of my own father, who, to my greatest pleasure, has always loathed my uncle. He gave his daughter the best education, with tutors from all around the continent, and kept her away from court as much as he could. She knows everything about the rest of the world, but nothing about Arles; the perfect opposite of most people who aspire for a seat in the council, which is why I believe she is perfect for it. I know Arles. I lived in Arles my whole life, I have seen all the horrors and the marvels of court. My council need not be courtiers. Which is why the last person I have in mind is the man in my country who has the most distaste for court: Lord Berenger of Varenne, who you have met. Though truly, I’m not so sure about him,” Laurent finished, his eyebrows creasing.
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wonderlandleighleigh · 2 years ago
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So its early but I'm on Tumblr, and like.
You know. Saw a post. Like you do.
And it's about appropriating Jewish mythology and symbols and terms. And there is so much "DON'T DO THAT" in the post.
But I think the post gets it a lil wrong. What we're really looking for is respect. Respect our things. Our culture. Or symbols. They're not Happy Meal toys. Make some effort.
I saw a lot of comments on the post saying that people had never met a Jewish person, and that we are "professional victims."
Well hello. I'm a Jewish person, and we've been run out of more countries than you've had hot dinners, so we're more like professionals at getting the fuck out of places where people want us dead.
Let's do an edit!
Golems: if you're going to use them in your fantasy, please treat them with respect. They're a mythological creature borne out of the desperation of a people constantly on the run from assholes trying to burn down their lives, and thought of as protective. Don't use them as a weird monster. It's easy to find the lore. Read up.
Kabbalah: is so much stranger than you know, and worth doing research on. Please be respectful if you intend to use it in a story, or even try to practice it.
If it's Hebrew and it doesn't have anything to do with Judaism...man that is a weird one. Cuz it's our religious language but also people who aren't Jewish live in Israel and speak Hebrew but this one feels funny.
The Star of David: it's not a pentagram. It's not a generic symbol. It's pretty specifically Jewish. Sometimes it gets worn by people who want us dead? Uncomfortable.
Goy: isn't considered polite but is more polite than "fuckin goy" which I sometimes use when some goy is being a terrible asshole.
Lenny Bruce had a whole bit on this one:
youtube
Gentile: less rude. You non jews are just gentiles.
Antisemitism: that funny feeling in your bones when you know someone either doesn't like you because you are Jewish (those fuckers who wear the "6 million was not enough" shirts. IE; Hitler shoulda kilt more Jews), or when someone says shit like "you guys control the banks so I bet you'll get all 7 days of Passover off soon enough." We don't control the banks. I fucking promise. We don't control shit. Whatever power white Jewish people might have is allowed by the white gentile power structure and can be easily taken away.
When the big orange goy was president, and employed Steven Miller (Jewish. A piece of shit) I used to tell people that "we'll all wind up in the same train car anyway. He's no safer from the hate than the rest of us." I'm still right.
The word Jew: context matters. "The Jews" is an easy shorthand. The Jewish People takes longer to say. One time in a bar, in Mississippi, the director of another department from work pointed at me and yelled "JEW!!!" and that felt.
Bad.
It felt bad you guys.
1. Being singled out for what you are feels bad.
2. Mississippi feels like a place you don't want to be singled out for being Jewish.
3. "Jew" often gets bent into "jewy" which is derogatory. Women were sometimes called "jewesses" which was a little like being called a witch they wanted to burn at the stake.
Probably safe bet to just say Jewish People.
We've been around a long time, but there aren't a whole of us left. But we also come in all different types. A bunch of us are white, but some of us are Black or Latinx or Asian or Middle Eastern. We don't agree on any one way of doing things and we have a lot of opinions and sometimes some dude wanders around The Rockaways in New York with a machete looking for the closest synagogue because Kanye told him we're all evil.
We are constantly on the lookout for people who don't like us because WE KEEP FINDING THEM. Like sometimes you think somebody's cool, but it turns out they think we have horns and eat white Christian baby blood.
For the record, white Christians don't season their food, so that shit is too bland. Not enough dill. We'll pass.
But yeah. Just some thoughts on my culture. Thanks for reading.
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beskarandkyber · 2 years ago
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I must say that Bo Katan's conversion to Din's "cult" has got to be one of the worst things I've seen in tv recently. For many reasons. It was so terrible in fact that it has well and truly kicked my interest in the show down a terrifying hundred degrees.
I know a lot of people are up in arms about this season. And I'm devastated to be thinking so negatively of a show that has only ever brought me joy. Writing for The Mandalorian has never been amazing, but I was okay with that because I love Din and his weird little attitude and position towards the galaxy. The characters on the show were enough to keep it alive and fun and carry it without relying too heavily on a fantastically written script. And scenes that were meant to make you feel something did. Stakes were good, and the story progressed just fine. It was a fun, heartwarming show with some badassery tossed in. But holy moly and pie.
To start I can only guess at this point what the point behind Din being excommunicated was. He was obviously messed up over the fact that his family and clan let him go so easily but he understood and accepted the creed. I was excited after he had taken off his helmet and broken the Creed because it opened up this new way to explore the clan and the possible problematic aspects of how he was living and how the the clan worked. This in turn exploring Din's identity as a Mandalorian with the knowledge he's gained from Boba and the other Mandos from season 2. Maybe there is more than one way. Tie this to Bo Katan and her vehement dislike for the clan and the fact that they were together when he broke his own Creed we could have had a huge a fun and impactful conversation about mandalorians, his Creed, where Din stands when he's placed in the gray area of the Mandalorian identity. I'm not saying that the clan is inherently problematic or evil, none of that because subjectively, it's not, but there should have been some type of nuanced conversation that affected Din and his place in the galaxy and the fact that he had a foundling. Not only this but the fact that he had recently come into ownership of the dark saber which places him by Mandalorian tradition and culture at the head of Mandalore. Perhaps predictably I thought that season 3 would contain his battle and internal and external struggle as he's fitted into this place that he never thought he would be in. I was excited to see his relationship with his clan completely changed especially as he sees that he has a new place in the galaxy and starts to perhaps grow away from them which could have led to either an antagonist in Bo Katan or a reluctant ally, or both!
Din felt too listless over the entire situation. That was his family the people who raised him, the people he had sworn his allegiance to, were so quick to dismiss him without hearing him out. But nothing really came out of it, no emotion no internal battles, no anything. We were simply told that he needed to go and get baptized to be redeemed.
I struggle also with the concept of bathing in the living Waters and Bo Katan joining the clan. Baptism is just bathing if there is no intent behind the action. Din was baptized because of his intention and he has a little like prayer thing he said. Bo Katan on the other hand went into the waters to save him and nothing more. There was no intent behind her actions, in the ritualistic sense that there was for Din, which means she was not baptized. And technically, at least in my eyes, it should be null and void the fact that she went after him into the water. And if the show simply was implying that the water held special magical properties the whole thing feels cheap and fake and I hate it.
I think perhaps a lot of my discontentment with this season and Bo Katan's sudden acceptance into a clan that she had previously considered a cult, looked upon with disgust and disdain, came from the fact that we did not get to see this change resonate enough within Din, not even in the book of Boba Fett. Her being accepted so readily into the clan cheapened everything that we were supposed to care about when it came to Din and his redemption. It was humorous in the way that it felt like a slap in the face and salt on the wound, I can only imagine how frustrated I would be if I were in Din's position.
It also cheapens Bo Katan's character as well. What was the point in never showing us any kind of character development in her and then suddenly sticking her in this clan and making the audience think that that was natural and fine? If this was where her character was going since we introduced to her in season 2 I never saw it coming and I find it a strange diminishing of her character, when she could have been a wonderful foil to Din, an antagonist a roadblock, but also someone who he would eventually have to confide in in order to properly handle his new position with the dark saber and eventually maybe it would lead to them having a dual where Bo Katan could win back the dark saber and everything before worked up to put her back on the throne and she learned valuable life lessons made her more tolerable of more people in the galaxy.
Or maybe she would see how much of a failed leader she's been and would come to accept that Din is the Mand'alor. I don't know. And I never will get to know.
I would say more but I think I have too much to say truthfully. All I know is for the first time I've felt disappointment and disinterest in a show I absolutely adore and it's heartbreaking. But I'm tired of accepting poorly made choices in writing for shows this big though. I'm sick of being told to sit and enjoy it and stop complaining when it genuinely sucks. No matter how much I love it. I'm not happy with it and as a viewer I deserve more than half baked plot points and non existent character arcs.
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snowlupinwoodstories · 2 months ago
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A Writer's Conundrum
Here's the next practice snippet I worked on. I'm going to take a week off of making snippets as a friend (@bloobluebloo ) is visiting! Maybe a break will help me with my own writers block.
“What do you do when all the inspiration has dried up,” The white wolf hummed to herself as she shut the laptop and looked around the coffee shop where she typically wrote, her blue eyes dull from staring at the blank page in front of her. Normally the sounds of people going about their day, calming renditions of popular pop songs and asian folk music, and the whirr of the coffee machines could break through the worst of the writing doldrums. It's why she would typically start her days off here before running errands or setting up research opportunities.
But with her latest drafts already off to their publishers and no requests for edits she was itching to start a new project. If she could just figure out what that project was.
She’d just covered a little bit of coffee culture in her latest book, so writing about a coffee shop was out. The park over the way had already served as an inspiration for many scenes in her novels, thirteen break-up scenes, five teary come together scenes and one wedding if she was remembering correctly. 
“Perhaps writing about a writer who doesn’t know what to write about?” she frowned before brushing the idea out of her mind. One, it was too meta, and though her books did include several taken from real life and recontextualized scenes. Two, it was overdone. While readers did enjoy and romanticized a writer’s life and work, Snow did not think it was something her readers wanted to read about. 
Well knowing what not to write about was progress at least. 
Maybe. She turned her head back to the window, watching the traffic go by for a few moments before she began to pack back up. Laptop in its bag and charge cord packed away she walked her dishes over to the collection area where a barista would pick them up. 
“Leaving so soon?” a cerulean asian palm civet asked who was sweeping nearby. “Do you have a lot of errands today, Snow?”
“Not quite,” Snow responded, her eyes trained outside, staring off into the distance, “Just having trouble finding my mojo today I guess.”
The civet hummed for a moment, “You know, when I’m stuck on drink creation I bake, and when I’m stuck on a baking creation I practice my coffee craft. Maybe you need to do something adjacent and see where it takes you. Let your brain work on it in the background.”
“That’s an idea, its been a hot minute since I’ve been to a bookstore,” Snow mentioned as she walked out of the cafe. 
Snow stopped in the big name bookstore outside of a shopping center, beelining for the romance section of the store. Perhaps reading some of her competition would help her feel inspired by her own work. 
The books were paperback, with bright covers depicting either the protagonists with their love interests, or sometimes just the love interests in pin up poses displaying their bodies, just covered enough to avoid being labeled inappropriate. Names like Tranquil Krystalkat, Nora Roden, Vixen Valentina, and others peppered the section. Most were pen names of course. While the genre of romance writing could be lucrative most people had issues attaching their names directly on the cover. At least until they hit it big enough for the judgements to slide off their backs like water off of waterfowl. 
Now there’s an idea, Snow mused. She hadn’t done anything with a waterfowl protagonist or love interest. She’d have to do some research. She picked up a book with a swan protagonist holding a bouquet of black and white flowers, a black swan wrapping their wing around the white swan, even as the white swan turned their head away. 
She flipped it over and gave the back a read, frowning. A story where black swans, rare as they were, knew their mates at first glance and a rich swan took his new bride-to-be away to his mansion as the wedding was prepared. How she’d be determined to not fall for him despite the flattery, the rich gifts, etc. It was a very run of the mill story going off of a rather well known stereotype of anthro swans. Snow put the book back and grabbed another, this one showing off of a small jackal holding a few dice in his hand with ominous eyes glaring from behind. She turned it over to find a trickster jackal had won the heart of an ominous wolf in a game of chance, and how that resulted in their romance. A few page flipping determined that the conflict was the wolf wanted to be rid of the jackal, but the jackal had magic and the wolf ended up being more possessive because of that. 
She scanned the books ruefully. Yes she knew the patterns of romance books, they allowed for beautiful looks into the psyche, and you had more freedom to play with the characters and readers emotions because everyone knew the question wasn’t when the characters would end up together but rather the when and why. 
But the benefit of the genre was also its frustration. There were common tropes that were common for a reason. Romance novels were escape fantasy afterall. And there was nothing wrong with that. But Snow had been pushing that boundary for a while now. Asking questions about the comfort genre, pushing the envelope on normalizing poly in the mainstream. Something to offer more flexibility to the rules the genre was typically afforded. 
 “Having trouble deciding?” An orange ferret who was shelving books asked her, noticing her frown. 
“I was hoping for something that kinda pushed the boundaries of the genre,” Snow replied, her hand coming underneath her chin. 
“How so? I mean there are plenty of fantasy, magic and higher feral titles I could recommend,” the ferret offered, putting her task to the side. 
“I’m really open to any sub-genre,” Snow turned her head towards her, “but I’m looking for something that if the set up is convoluted its not overly so. And perhaps something that isn’t afraid to break the normal mold of how these stories play out. You know something that makes me wonder more ‘if’ rather than ‘when’.”
“Hmm…You know I know just the thing! Its over this way,” the ferret directed leading Snow around the other side of the shelves and over to a corner display, “This author has been making loads of headway in the romance genre, her book Gym Brats might be just what you’re looking for.”
Snow smiled gently, her eyes widening as they paused in front of the display, her pen name, Blizzard Sapphire splayed across a sign. The ferret had already picked up a book, a very tall athletic shimmery palomino mare spotting for a black wolf who was struggling under a mediocre weight for a chest press on the cover. “See both of the characters start off in committed relationships that are open for different reasons, so no squick about cheating, as an added bonus.”
Snow took the book from the ferret and flipped it over, scanning the back, trying to figure out how to gently decline the book. Well here was the true heart of the problem. Snow wrote the types of things she wanted to read. And because of that she was the go to author for things like this. Which meant the other writers hadn’t tried to dip their toes into it yet, or their publishers weren’t ready to try and compete with her. Perhaps thinking the fad of pushing the envelope would disappear sooner rather than later. 
“Her other titles are just as good, Me and My Middle Class Girlfriend is a hoot if you want something more normal. It flips the effortless millionaire genre and writes it from his perspective trying to keep his worth underwraps but failing and how she shows him how to live a more normal lifestyle,” She handed Snow a book with a bright blue and red macaw and a demure looking husky. That had been a fun one to write, trying to get into Scritch’s head without him realizing what she was doing. He still didn’t know that she wasn't an editor, but a writer. 
“Or oh! This is probably my favorite of right now, though it is one of her older works, Werewolves of Knottingham.” Snow, balanced the two previous books on her one arm as she took the last book, this one covered that time she spent time at an amateur erotic writers commune. “The main character is a young hobby writer who signs up for a writer’s commune without realizing its for professional erotic writers, and ends up with a publishable novel at the end. I know that may be kinda spoilery but at least I’m not spoiling the love interests.” The ferret paused waiting to hear Snow’s thoughts.
“You’re right,” Snow said, swallowing her nerves, “This is exactly what I’m looking for.”
“Great! Do you want to keep browsing the selection or should I get you checked out?” the ferret grinned excited to share her favorite books. Snow groaned inwardly, realizing that she wasn’t leaving there without buying her own books. Again.
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