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thankskenpenders · 1 year ago

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Amy's fortune cards

The Sonic fandom has long been the kind of fandom that takes minor details very seriously, for better or worse. On the one hand, this means fans will really dig for the diamonds in the rough, latching onto fun character interactions, animations, bits of background worldbuilding, and more in pieces of Sonic media that many would write off as "the bad ones." But it also feels like every week another needlessly hostile debate over Sonic minutia erupts on Twitter, whether it's over individual lines of dialogue, fanart that makes Tails' shoes blue, or the ideal length and volume for Sonic's quills.

So it was probably inevitable that a fandom-wide debate would erupt upon seeing Amy's new gameplay style in the DLC for Sonic Frontiers, which takes the once-obscure fact that she enjoys reading tarot and shines a spotlight on it like never before.

I mean:

The thing is, while I basically always try to tune out Sonic fandom bickering... for once, I kind of sympathize with the detractors? Don't get me wrong, I like Amy's tarot stuff, and people on all sides of the discussion are being overly nasty about their opinions, as usual. (Sonic Twitter remains my personal hell.) But when I set aside the hyperbole and zoom out, I do think I understand why some fans are put off by the sudden shift in focus for the character, even if I think it's cool.

It's complicated. Let me attempt to present the cases for and against Amy's fortune cards

For years, I was always one of those fans who thought it could be fun if they played with Amy's tarot reading, or even leaned into some kind of magic with her. Part of that is my own biases showing, but there's just something that makes sense there, especially when you look at Sonic, Tails, and Amy as a trio. (I would argue that's the real "Team Sonic" these days, especially in the comics where Knuckles is more likely to be stuck on Angel Island or otherwise doing his own thing.)

You could argue that Tails is all about logic, relying on science and technology and deductive reasoning to solve problems. But Amy is all about emotion. She wears her heart on her sleeve, is extremely empathetic, and is very prone to magical thinking - both figuratively and sometimes literally. Her origin story has always been that her tarot cards told her it was her destiny to meet Sonic on Little Planet. She's claimed to be able to "sense" peoples' presences - particularly Sonic's. She's the type to believe that The Power of Love is a literal magical force. So, on some level, it makes sense to mirror Tails's science by having Sonic's other best friend believe in magic. And then Sonic is somewhere in the middle, primarily following his own gut instincts but taking advice from both of them as needed. This isn't totally accurate to how their dynamics actually function in canon stories, but I think it's a mode that could work for them.

Going off of that, it's fun to lean all the way into Amy being a magical girl, or even a witch, using her fortune telling as a foundation. Take, for example, this version of Amy from Diana Skelly's old Sonic cast redesigns from before she freelanced for Archie and IDW. This is one of MANY such redesigns for Amy.

Fast forward to the 2020s, and Amy's tarot cards are, in fact, finally getting brought up again in canon. Which is fun! I like seeing that. I like all of the individual stories involving Amy's fortune cards. This is a fun character trait for Amy, a fun nod to old lore, AND a fun storytelling device, all in one. It's really cool that the Sonic universe has its own thematically appropriate arcana, and that the cards are getting made as physical merch. And sure enough, the official card backs and borders were designed by none other than Diana Skelly, in yet another cool example of an ascendant fan leaving their mark on the series.

BUT... when you step back and look at the big picture, I get why some fans find this shift in focus jarring. At the moment, it's starting to feel like every new story about Amy involves her fortune cards to some degree.

The most recent mainline comic arc to feature Amy as the lead character, 2021's Trial by Fire arc, prominently features a sequence where she reads fortunes while camping with the girls. The Origins version of Sonic CD now bookends the game with scenes of Amy and her tarot cards. Sonic randomly mentioned it in a scene in Frontiers. And now, just this week, we got the (very cute, gorgeously illustrated) Amy's 30th Anniversary comic with a story revolving around Amy's tarot cards, followed the very next day by the Frontiers DLC in which she gets a brand new tarot-based moveset. Even her base melee attack now has her throwing tarot cards instead of swinging her hammer. Again, I like all of these individual things, but after years of it almost never coming up at all, it's VERY noticeable that Amy's tarot cards are suddenly everywhere.

To be fair, I'm looking at this from the perspective of a superfan who's actively following ALL Sonic media. Casual fans - especially kids - aren't necessarily going to be reading the comics every month, buying the thousandth rerelease of the Genesis games, or playing the ultra-hard new alternate ending DLC for a game that came out last year. Each of these stories is going to be someone's introduction to the idea that Amy can read tarot, and that's probably part of the idea behind this unified push.

But to play devil's advocate, for my fellow superfans, I understand why it feels like a very minor footnote of Amy's character is suddenly becoming the entire focus of her personality. While Amy has always been said to enjoy fortune telling, that wasn't really a character trait in and of itself, but rather an example of her being a typical girl who hopes she'll be able to find true love one day. It's less that Amy can literally predict the future and more like her using a cootie catcher or going "he loves me, he loves me not" while picking the petals off of a flower. So I get not vibing with this stuff, or feeling like it's being pushed very hard out of nowhere.

What I don't agree with are comparisons like "it's like if they made Knuckles' moveset revolve around him liking grapes." Like, I get it. Ian Flynn loves shoehorning in his little winking references for us nerds, and mentions of Amy's tarot cards were previously on the same level as other random bullet points from old Japanese manuals. But a multifaceted hobby like fortune telling that opens up so many narrative and aesthetic possibilities is obviously very different from having a favorite food. It's ALWAYS been a part of her story, not just a random fact, and there's no reason why the fortune telling can't be elevated to something more.

And, hell, even if it wasn't an established character trait, there's nothing inherently wrong with injecting new ideas into a character. One of the best Amy stories in recent years, the Free Comic Book Day special "Amy's New Hobby" written by Gale Galligan, came up with the idea that Amy's secretly been drawing little comics about her and her friends. Is this based on Lore? No. But it's cute, and helps tell the story of a younger Amy who's still coming out of her shell as both a hero and a friend.

Certain fans are also looking at Amy's Frontiers moveset and using it as evidence that once again the Vile American Contributors like Ian are CORRUPTING Sonic Team's perfect vision of Sonic with their misinterpretations. And like. Come on. Ian does not control the gameplay. He's a freelance writer. The tarot stuff is clearly something that Sonic Team likes if they made it the basis of Amy's new moveset - and, you know, if they keep approving comics and animations about Amy's fortune telling. None of this gets made without their blessing, and lord knows how much they can micromanage shit and shoot down ideas over the most minor of details.

Like, yeah, Amy's fortune telling was probably conceived less as a sign that she Knows Magic and more as a pretty mundane hobby for a lovesick young Japanese girl to have. But you're gonna sit there and tell me that using Amy's tarot cards for more than that could only be the result of a cultural misunderstanding? That nobody in Japan uses tarot card theming and aesthetics (or the general idea of magical cards) for the cool factor? Stardust Crusaders? Persona? The Astrologian class in FFXIV? Cardcaptor Sakura?? Hello??? Do you think Capcom put Gambit in Marvel vs. Capcom ironically because they thought using magic to throw cards at people was stupid? There's tons of precedent for this! It's nothing like Knuckles throwing grapes at people, be for real.

Giving Amy a very magical girl-esque moveset also just makes a lot of sense. For decades her hammer attacks have literally made sparkly heart shapes appear around her. Leaning into both that and her tarot cards in her new moveset makes a lot of sense to me.

But, admittedly... I do think it's very odd that her hammer is treated as a secondary element here, rather than having her primarily use her hammer and adding the cards for extra flair. If hitting the attack button made her swing her hammer instead of throwing cards, I'm not sure we'd even be having this discussion right now.

But the tarot-cycle and Amy riding her hammer like a witch's broom are fucking SICK and I will not concede on this point

The thing is, this whole fortune card discourse is but a small piece of a bigger problem. Amy's been a character who needed some work for ages, but there's basically nothing you can do with her without pissing SOMEONE off.

Years of stories where Amy's crush was her primary motivator and Sonic went "Ew, cooties!" have lead many casual fans to believe that being Sonic's obsessive fangirl is Amy's entire personality. At best people might call her Sonic's Minnie Mouse. This isn't just a matter of Amy having haters within the fandom - venture outside of that bubble and you'll realize that this is how MOST video game playing people seem to see her to this day. I don't feel like this is a fair assessment of the character, but this idea didn't come from nowhere. No matter how much good deeply entrenched Sonic fans may see in their old dynamic where Amy perpetually chases Sonic, this is a very real problem that Sonic Team has to contend with for their leading girl. Of course all those games where the way-past-cool protagonist thought Amy was annoyingly clingy and tried to get away from her made people think less of her.

If new stories were to go back to emphasizing Amy's crush on Sonic a little more, they'd probably be taken as confirmation that Amy's just the girl with a crush on Sonic and that this is her entire personality. Conversely, when the crush is played down, you piss off the hardcore SonAmy fans who don't seem to understand that they're Charlie Brown and Sega is Lucy holding the football. You can't win.

And so here we are. In the absence of what was once her defining trait, now reduced to an occasional blush or wink in Sonic's direction, new stories are trying to mine Amy's past for additional material to work with. Having been a thing fans wanted to see for years, right now we're getting a lot of tarot, but we're also getting reminders of her compassionate nature and her desire to go out of her way to help the little guy. This is an ongoing process. I continue to hope that her bubbly, exuberant demeanor can shine more in future stories. Now, I also hope that the tarot stuff gets balanced out a little better with other traits of hers. But I don't want it to go away. I think it's fun.

This course correcting is far from exclusive to Amy. Knuckles is getting stories that remind us that he's a competent fighter, an experienced treasure hunter, and even a self-taught archaeologist after years of him being perceived as either the dumb one or just the guy who stands in front of the Master Emerald all day. And Tails has been getting some stories reminding folks that he's a capable hero in his own right and not just Sonic's timid kid sidekick.

But no supporting character will ever compete with the sheer number of new ideas Sega has tried with Sonic himself. Like Amy, his Frontiers moveset has also given him half a dozen new superpowers that he never had before, from the Cyloop to air-slicing projectile attacks to his own take on Shadow Clone Jutsu and beyond. He's also been a hoverboarder, a swordsman, a time traveler, an Olympic athlete, a racecar driver, cursed with a Flame of Judgment, imbued with alien power, a fucking Werehog with stretchy powers, and on and on and on.

If Sonic can do all that, Amy can try out using a tarot-cycle.

Anyway TL;DR the REAL problem with Amy's current characterization... is where the FUCK is Amy's bestie, Honey the Cat???????

#tkp post

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daipeanutsaiban · 24 days ago

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some family headcanons (in order: van zieks, baskerville, asogi, holmes) not everyone has names yet 🫣💦

i wrote more details under the cut ⬇️ this info can also be viewed under the "tgaa oc guide" in my carrd (linked in my profile).

Holmes

Mycroft: he’s 7 years older than his brother in the ACD canon, but I wanted him to be around the same age as Klint and Lady Baskerville. He and Sherlock are 7 and 15 respectively here. I wanted his hair to be dark and over his eyes so it’d match his cynical attitude that things are about to go bad at any time. Also, it’s a nice contrast to Sherlock’s lightly toasted color, so you could say he got “burnt”. Mycroft usually wears gloves, both because he dislikes touching things directly and because he has a tendency to be dishonest (a classic character design trope - though it’s probably less obvious in a game where almost every character of the upper social classes will wear gloves due to the setting). Mycroft predominantly wears green (next to yellow on the color wheel). Despite his avoidant and anxious behaviours, he has a sharp tongue, and rarely addresses people by their proper title. For someone who wants to avoid trouble, he doesn’t try really hard to fit in due to being a contrarian in that aspect... he’s a genius, but he’s an idiot too (lol).

Sherlock: The most important thing is that he’s recognizable without being dressed identically to his adult self, because he hasn’t come into his own yet (and it would just make no sense). He’s wearing rather nice clothes since the Holmes family belongs to the gentry class, but my friend suggested that his clothes would be dirty often since he’s crawling around trying to “solve cases” all the time, and I really love that idea. His mother is probably despairing about it. Sherlock takes himself very seriously at this age, but of course he says ridiculous things all the time.

Father (unnamed): I wanted the brothers to have a point of reference or inspiration for their creativity with inventions and general resourcefulness, so he’s a toymaker who specializes in automata. Mycroft learned from him for some time until he eventually surpassed him due to his inherent genius, but Sherlock lost interest quickly despite also showing talent. Their father is a friendly man whose work usually keeps busy, and he’s on good terms with his wife. I’m undecided on whether the toy shop should be connected to their house or not.

Mother (unnamed): I really wanted her to look like her youngest son without being an exact replica of him, with a simple and uncomplicated design. She’s a housewife with no other occupation officially, but she’s adept at sewing and often takes on requests from friends and neighbours. She also makes clothes for her husband’s creations, as well as for her children. Will dress up Mycroft and Sherlock in dresses on occasion, sometimes to get back at them for causing trouble and sometimes just to try out designs. Sherlock doesn’t mind it, and neither does Mycroft though he’s annoyed at the “punishment” since it’s usually his brother who ropes him into trouble. Their mother is constantly fatigued by their antics, so I feel a little bad for her (their father is more easygoing, so he doesn’t get as stressed out by their sons). Her relationship with her oldest son was complicated for some time due to his tendency to withdraw from the world, but her youngest helped her understand that his brother does love her in his own ways.

Van Zieks

I tried my best to incorporate angel motifs in their design to reflect Barok’s “fallen angel” motif later in life, hence why his and Klint’s father has white hair for example. The feather lace on their mother’s sleeves was a last minute addition; I think I’ll revisit their designs again soon. Klint wears his hair the same as he does as an adult to keep him recognizable, but I think it’d be funny if when he was very young it was parted on the side and he hated it or something.

Claes: Their father’s name. It’s Dutch and pronounced “Klaus”, but I keep pronouncing it wrong (a little bit on purpose because I like the sound of it spelled out). He has a constant poker face, but he’s actually the most affectionate parent in this entire lineup..! He’s meant to be smiling in the drawing, but a stranger wouldn’t be able to tell. I love characters whose personality subverts our expectations we’d usually have based on their appearance, so he looks and acts very seriously but would rather spend time at home with his family and hates going to work (lol). Also fond of cute, small, and typically “feminine” things, but he keeps that part of him a secret since it’d be frowned upon for a man in this era, especially within the upper class which is all about appearance (his wife is aware of it, though). Maybe that’s why he dotes on his kids so much? He’s very corny as well and has plenty of nicknames for his wife and children, which Klint hated at this age. I also wanted Claes to be the same height as Stronghart, with an imposing build and expression, so that the next authority figure in the brothers’ lives following his death would “fill” the gap he left. But that didn’t end so well, did it...

Evana: Their mother’s name. Similarly to Claes, her personality is meant to subvert her elegant appearance. She’s a complete airhead and once got lost in her own house. Evana is nonetheless stricter than her husband towards her children and puts a lot of emphasis on what is or isn’t proper. She’s in tune with trends and gossip as is expected of a lady in her position, and might come across as superficial to some, but she is very loving. When young Lady Baskerville would visit, she and her future mother-in-law would get along tremendously well (to Klint’s annoyance as he also wanted to spend time with his fiancee but couldn’t relate to most of their conversations). Evana had the most religious faith among the van Zieks, and would encourage virtue, integrity, and nobility of character above all else in her children.

Barok and Klint: Two well-behaved, beloved children. Barok is of course the little darling after all; I think Klint was probably the more rebellious one but became very serious after their parents’ death with all the responsibilities now on his shoulders. That was probably a very lonely period for Barok, until his brother cheered up again.

Baskerville

Primrose (Lady Baskerville): In flower language, her name means “I can’t live without you”. I didn't know this at the time I named her, but it fits the story very well, so thank you to my friend who taught me this! Primrose’s outlook is very unconventional for the era and especially at her young age, but she’s grown disillusioned with her lot in life as well as men following her mother’s death. I wanted her to be the only one in the family to be a redhead to reflect how she’s not fitting the mould with her assertive and brash personality, and how she feels "out of place". Her father dresses her in very impractical, often white dresses to assert his control over her as a form of “love”; to thwart her tendency to sneak out of the house without permission and participate in unladylike activities.

Her and Klint become codependent on each other following his own parents’ passing and promise to marry each other even though Lord Baskerville is set on finding his daughter a suitor with a more stable future.

The woman is her stepmother, and the others are her father and her half-brother. Since I’m working on a project involving all of them, I don’t want to reveal too much about them yet. All I can say is that it’s not a happy home, and no one in particularly close to each other (except the twins, maybe)...

Asogi

Genshin: I imagined he used to be short and got his growth spurt late (shown at around 12 years old here). Genshin looks a lot like Kazuma due to his eyes and nose, but thankfully he has a distinctive hairstyle already. I'd like to think he grows out his hair at around fifteen. The scarf's pattern is meant to evoke snake scales! Sorry for how lazily I drew Karuma here, haha. As for his personality, he has a poker face but I like to think he can be quite mischievous, though not towards his immediate family as the repercussions would be non-negligible. His brother in law, Hiroki, however, is the perfect person to prank since he's both kind and naive. I also imagine it's tradition for every (male) Asogi to dedicate their life to training, though he’d have a bamboo sword instead of Karuma at this age, probably... I wonder how Genshin discovered the hilt trick? If he was a kid or teenager, maybe he hid snacks inside (lol).

Miwa: Genshin’s older sister. She wears men’s clothes most of the time. Being their father’s legitimate child, she was going to inherit the clan despite being a woman until Genshin showed up. With Genshin having the “luck” to resemble his father, as well as being male, their father decided to make him the heir instead. Miwa resents Genshin for taking this chance from her, despite knowing deep down that he is not personally at fault. Still, she is outwardly bitter and dismissive of him, and spites his efforts to become closer to his sister. Miwa is both vain and arrogant while also following a rigid moral code. She distrusts men, most likely due to her father’s treatment, but she also respects her father greatly as a warrior. Miwa displays surprising gentleness towards children and women, namely Genshin’s girlfriend and later wife Yukari. Her abrasive personality mellows out when she becomes a mother herself, but she was unable to repair her relationship with her brother before his death. Since that’s very sad, in modern AUs I like to depict them on better terms.

Hiroki: Miwa’s husband through arranged marriage. Hails from a family of performers; his specialty is traditional dance but he’s skilled in rakugo as well. I wanted a character with a sensitive side, who is in touch with his emotions, to contrast the serious and tense atmosphere of the Asogi clan. Thanks to that side of him, Hiroki gets along well with Yukari who has a similar easygoing and “refreshing” personality. However, Hiroki’s sensitivity creates problems since Miwa is confused by a man exhibiting such behaviours (he’s the type to be moved by beautiful scenery and cry over small animals). Hiroki believes everyone can do good and that most people act from goodness, but for this reason he’s easily tricked- namely by Genshin. Despite amusing himself at his expense (since Genshin is quite clever), Genshin enjoys Hiroki’s company since he’s a very mellow person and doesn’t bring up dreadful topics like inheritance and power and such. Hiroki is surprisingly well-built under his clothes, and his weapon of choice is a naginata. I guess Syoma wanted his son-in-law to be strong..?

Syoma: The central figure in the Asogi household. Still alive during the events of TGAA. A very serious man who accords a lot of importance to honor and tradition to the point it’s stifling. Distant from his children, though Miwa claims Genshin is the favorite. The kind of father to make his children compete to “make them grow”, even though one of them is almost an adult and the other is barely a teenager. Although Genshin was conceived after his late wife’s passing, Syoma sees Genshin as a reminder of his dishonourable actions (mainly due to Genshin’s mother being a prostitute), and thus avoids him despite placing the onus of inheritance upon him. All of that results in a house Genshin doesn’t want to stay in- and contributes to his reasons to go study abroad. In his own twisted way, Syoma loves his children, but he was never meant to be a father, or at least does not know how to parent without a wife’s help (tradition and patriarchy is very much a theme for the whole clan lol). I honestly struggle to write him because the things he says can be very hurtful, especially towards his daughter-in-law. His character is a lot more comedic/nicer in modern AU (think pseudo yakuza with mother hen personality), but so is everyone’s. (it’s very sitcom-like, haha)

Thanks for reading if you made it this far!! This post could be even longer but I decided to spare everyone💗 have a bonus papazieks and children doodle for your time👼💗

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about-faces · 4 months ago

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Last night, I was once again struggling to actually write smut for a Harvey/Bruce/Gilda fic, when I noticed a very timely new guest comment on my Gilda fic, Bust. It was the first truly critical response I’ve gotten so far, and while that sort of thing would normally send me into a depressive tizzy, I actually found it really interesting!

So instead of actually writing the ship, as I should have been, I wanted to take this opportunity to think about just why the heck I shipped them in the first place.

Here’s how I responded, with added scans to hopefully better illustrate my point, plus some additions that occurred to me upon drafting this post:

I’m actually glad you raised this point, because I would have felt the exact same as you just a few years ago!

I’m gray-asexual, and I used to be a bit bothered by the rise of Bruce/Harvey shippers, because it was their canonical platonic FRIENDSHIP that mattered so much to me. I gradually warmed up to the shippers, because 1.) I realized I was ace and they probably weren’t, and 2.) they at least understood the importance of Bruce and Harvey’s bond, which is more than I can say for LOTS of official DC media.

Still, something bugged me about the ship, and I realized what it was: the lack of Gilda from the equation. She’s always been deeply important to me, especially her scant older appearances, and erasing her for a Bruce/Harvey ship (even one I’d come to appreciate) didn’t sit right with me.

But like you said, it’s not canon, and I’ve always been deeply invested in canon, even the stuff that’s frustrating and contradictory. So yeah, the throuple would have bugged me too.

Except! It all depends on WHICH canon you’re talking about!

So over the past 15 years, I’ve been obsessed with tracking down the entirety of the obscure, forgotten Batman newspaper comic strip from 1989-1991. I’ve posted the entire thing at @batman-daily, and I strongly encourage you to check it out. A couple years ago, I reread it and noticed something really interesting: the remarkable relationship between Bruce, Harvey, and the latter’s wife, Alice, who is Gilda in every way but name. They are all mutual friends, with Alice even going to visit Bruce alone to help/bully him to take care of himself.

It all reads like a perfect long-game setup for a love triangle, or for Harvey—having become Two-Face—to go after his loved ones in a jealous rage, like he did in Paul Dini’s “Two-Timer,” a story which notably showed that Grace had feelings for Bruce.

With that in mind, consider the final story arc of the newspaper strip, wherein Bruce acknowledges his OWN feelings for Alice and PASSIONATELY KISSES HER, all in a hilariously roundabout way to save her marriage to Harvey! It makes sense in context and is frankly hilarious.

And it works! Because Harvey isn’t jealous! The love triangle conflict you expect NEVER HAPPENS! Because they all love one another! And that love saves Harvey in the very end!

Was it explicitly a throuple? No, but nor have Bruce and Harvey ever canonically touched dicks. And yet the love between Bruce and Harvey in canon is true and real enough that shippers who want to make it sexual are perfectly allowed to do so, because it’s the love that matters. At least, for those of us who aren’t afraid to acknowledge the love between men, platonic or otherwise. And that love is rooted in canon.

So consider this: the mutual three-way-love between Bruce, Harvey, and Alice/Gilda is ALSO canon. That comic strip has been officially accepted as DC multiverse canon in the “Crisis on Infinite Earths: Absolute Edition,” which designated it as Earth-1289.

Furthermore, there’s something else you need to consider: the fact that Harvey HAS been used in love triangles against Bruce in several stories in recent decades. I already mentioned “Two-Timer,” but there’s also Nolan’s “The Dark Knight,” the animated “Gotham By Gaslight” film, and the Telltale game. In various ways, these stories serve to throw a wedge in the friendship between Bruce (the protagonist, whose story serves him) and Harvey (the guy who is going to lose it all, the woman included). I hate that shit. I hate the contrived drama that’s meant to stir up needless added conflict between two men who love each other.

And then, on the other hand, you have Mariko Tamaki’s Gilda story from “Batman: Black and White.” Tamaki depicted Harvey and Gilda being in a distant, loveless marriage, where even on their wedding day, he was constantly ignoring her in favor of work. The only person who could actually get his attention was Bruce.

At the time, this felt an awful lot like that problem I was talking about with the Bruce/Harvey shippers: raising up the gay ship while throwing the woman under the bus. In this case, for the purpose of doing an avenging girlboss take on Gilda. I hated that too, especially when Tamaki didn’t even follow through with the gay subtext in her next, miserable Two-Face comic.

You know that meme of a bride, groom, and best man all kissing one another, while the bride flips off the cameraman in the end? @whipbogard redrew the Tamaki wedding scene as that meme, right around the time I reread the comic strip. And suddenly, everything clicked into place for me.

After a lifetime of never, ever having any serious fandom ships, I fell in love with the idea of Bruce/Harvey/Gilda. Take what the comic strip did and bring it into the mainstream canon I love to spite the canon I hate.

In those great old Gilda stories, she saw through Harvey’s bullshit and knew how to reach him, however temporarily. She could do the same with Bruce. She’d be a valuable third voice for the ongoing toxic relationship between Bruce and Harvey, the one who could love them both while also getting to be frustrated with how fucking stupid and fucked-up both these men are.

Before she was reduced to a ride-or-die killer housewife in "The Long Halloween" (which, I'll grant you, has its own appeal), classic Gilda would actually stand up to Harvey and tell him to cut out his shit or else. I love the idea that she can also see right through Bruce, understanding how very alike he and Harvey are, even if they don't want to admit it.

Writing Gilda this way speaks to me as a longtime fan of both men, while also wanting to try to develop her place, as a woman stuck in the middle of their decades' worth of conflict and angst. She sees these men at their best, worst, and most pathetic/ridiculous, and while she's got the nerve to stand up for herself and call them out as needed, she still loves them nonetheless. For me, Gilda has become the voice for fans just like me, who are helpless to stop Batman and Two-Face from continuing the cycle of violent, toxic friendship, but still loving them nonetheless, and always hoping for the best.

So, at this point, let’s say I’ve at least managed to make you grudgingly accept my reasoning for the relationship. Even if that’s true, I’m gonna guess that the mention of a threesome felt like it came out of left field. I can’t argue with that. I wanted to actually write that as its own smutfic but, being ace, I struggle with that. But I really liked the idea, and as I was writing this, it just really wanted to be mentioned, so I included it.

The response has been positive (until now), which indicated to me that I had been successful in introducing Gilda as a viable third into a slice of fandom which had only shipped Bruce and Harvey. This is fanfic, after all, such things are expected, even encouraged, so I leaned into it.

Now, if I were ever (un?)fortunate enough to write for DC, officially? I doubt I’d have the nerve to go that far. But I’d still want to at least embrace the polycule-coded relationship between those three that we saw in the newspaper comic strip. I think it adds a whole new, refreshing spin on their ongoing dynamics, while being rooted in relationships that were established all the way back in 1942 by Bill Finger.

Finger’s story, at its heart, was all about how love can save a life. How love is the only way to defeat the villain. For Harvey Kent’s part, Gilda’s love was every bit as important as Batman’s unwillingness to give up on his friend. So I’m just taking it one step further within the freedom allowed me by fanfic.

Sorry for the length of the reply, but as you can see, I only came to this shit after several decades of thinking about 80+ years of official material. I hope I have at least been able to lessen your feelings of being jarred out of a story you otherwise seemed to appreciate. For my part, I hope to further develop the potential of this fucked-up polycule in future stories, and maybe—just maybe—I’ll be able to get you on board too. Hope to see you then!

(art by ofossart)

#I hope I actually managed to address that person’s criticisms #I worry that I just took this opportunity to ramble about the ship #Because I really do empathize with their complaints #gilda dent #harvey dent #gilda gold #batman #bruce wayne #twoface #two face #two-face #dc comics #dc fanfic #batman fanfiction #Batman fanfic

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thepenultimateword · 3 months ago

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Love Thy Enemy Part 6

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five

For all Callista's talk of winning Vorrin over, it was surprising that she returned to ignoring his existence. Pins and Switch even informed him that his designated visit to her chambers had been canceled for the week. Usually, Vorrin would've been thrilled, but considering the circumstances... How was he supposed to gain the empress's trust if they didn't see each other?

"Is she busy again?" Vorrin asked as he took a bite of strawberry scone. He kept his tone bland and stared with what he hoped looked like disinterest at the wall.

"I hear she's taking a trip to the border cities," Pins mumbled, sewing needle held between his lips as he turned the half-finished embroidery in his hands. "Probably takes a lot of prep work."

Vorrin had felt rather guilty about his outburst the other day, and remembering Switch's comment about waste, he'd asked the manservants if it was possible to repair the torn shirt. The short answer was no. Nothing could get the shirt exactly back to its original state. The longer answer, with more cloth and designs to hide the stitches, the outfit could be salvaged. So here the pair were, with more work thrust upon them, though Vorrin couldn't say he wasn't grateful for the company.

Vorrin set down the scone, turning full attention to the manservant. "The border cities? Why?"

"I only caught pieces from the soldiers while fetching your dinner the other night, but I think an emissary from Avarose is meeting her there."

"An emissary?"

"She has been out of the country for almost a year now. Maybe she needs an update from Prince Suthand on the state of the kingdom?"

"An update can be sent in a letter."

"You know more about politics than us," Switch said, stacking up some of the empty breakfast plates. "Why do you think she's going?"

Vorrin pondered it a moment. Callista was calculated, and she knew her hold on Totholan was tentative. She wouldn't leave the capital unless she thought it was absolutely necessary.

Perhaps she wanted to check on the strength of the border troops. But she could outsource that to a general couldn't she?" And then there was the emissary. That would be political. But why would she need a representative from her own kingdom? And why didn't they meet her here instead of the other way around?

"I don't understand anything she does," Vorrin said finally, picking back up his scone. He only managed to nibble it a little further before asking, "When will she return?"

Switch raised a brow. "You're certainly eager to see the empress again."

"I wouldn't say eager. Simply...interested."

"Well, she hasn't left yet," Pins said. "She might still come to say goodbye."

As if Vorrin was worried about not receiving a proper farewell. He was her consort, not her lover. He forced a smile anyway. "Maybe."

Pins smiled brightly back and turned the finished tunic around for him to see. "How's this?"

A spattering of golden stars and a large sun now hid the repaired tear. They glimmered against the white fabric like the celestial bodies they were imitating.

"It’s beautiful,” Vorrin said, “it’s a wonder you were hired as a manservant rather than a tailor’s apprentice.”

Pins flushed appreciatively and lowered his eyes to the ground. “I used to do the repairs to the servants' uniforms, back before I was officially hired. My mum said I had a gift. But…apprenticeships don’t pay in money, just room and board, and my family couldn’t really live on one income so…” His face fell a bit, but as he lifted his head again, it abruptly brightened. “When I was offered this position, it paid twice the amount as a regular manservant, and I still get to do sewing, so better off for me, I say.”

Vorrin fought the frown dragging down the corners of his mouth. He knew what it was like to come from humble beginnings. Living day to day on whatever scraps he could get. Going hungry. Survival topping every other thought or desire. The main reason he'd joined the King's army as a boy was for the pay. Squires received a gold piece every month, and the stipend only grew the longer he stayed alive. Not to mention the free board in the barracks. As he’d risen in the ranks, he’d created a comfortable place for himself. Luckily, or maybe unluckily, he hadn't had any family to rely on him, so he’d only had to worry about himself. He could only imagine the pressure of supporting a family at such a young age.

“Is your mother in Totholan?”

“No, she stayed back home. But I send her half my earnings whenever any of the soldiers travel back to Avarose with the Empress's letters.”

“Which they skim,” Switch muttered.

“It’s fine,” Pins said, forcing one of his bright smiles, “I just think of it as a delivery fee.”

This time Vorrin did frown. “That is not fine. They recieve their own wages, they don’t need any of yours.” He doubted it was something Empress Callista would allow either. “I’ll speak to the Empress about it.”

Switch audibly choked.

Pins shot to his feet. “Oh, no! You don’t have to— It’s much too small a matter to bring so high as the Empress.”

Yes, Vorrin understood it was unconventional. King Duras would have imprisoned a servant for wasting his time with such a request, that is if he even allowed it to reach the level of audience, and with the state of the kingdom, Empress Callista probably would brush it off too, but…

“If she cares about me, she’ll care about you,” Vorrin said firmly.

“I don’t want her to think I’m complaining or gossiping about the soldiers. Especially not to you."

"Because you don't want to be blamed for my poisonous attitude toward all things Avarosian?"

Pins pressed his lips together, his lack of denial an admittance all its own.

“If it bothers you, I won’t tell her it’s you.”

"I...well..." Pins slowly folded the tunic over his arm and moved gingerly across the room to tuck it away in the wardrobe. "I guess its ok. If it comes up that is. And as long as it doesn't inconvenience her. If she seems put out, tell her to forget it. And don't make it seem too urgent." He cleared his throat and plucked out a new outfit, lithely changing the topic. "How about this?"

It was another set of robes, this one a couple layers, the bottom a silky vibrant gold and the top a poofed, gauzy white that muted the underlying fabric, almost like looking through fogged glass. Glimmering gold strings hung loosed off the sleeves, ready to hold each one in perfectly puffed sections."

Vorrin grimaced. Where did the empress even get all these clothes from? Had she sent for them as soon as she’d taken him hostage or had she planned for this ending in advance? From what he'd seen Pins and Switch wear, robes were not uncommon for Avarosian men, but the fancy ones in his wardrobe were on another level. Either high-class styles were different, or the empress had some tastes. Maybe a bit of both.

"Well, I was hoping to attend the training grounds today," Vorrin said. "That is if there is a soldier to escort me today."

One of the things he and the empress had agreed upon in their last conversation was that Vorrin should have more freedoms. The training grounds to practice his sparring and more visits into the city were at the top of his requests. Surprisingly, both had been granted, on the condition that he was watched at all times.

"Oh!" Pins put the garment set back and sifted around the wardrobe for something else. "Then this?"

The new outfit was two pieces, a bottom and a top, so that was at least closer to Vorrin's regular style.

The top was a black compressed shirt with the sleeves cut off mid-shoulder and silver-threaded embroidery stretching from the shirt's high throat to the middle of the chest, giving the appearance of a layered necklace. The bottoms...were a skirt. Blue. Long. Plain except for the embroidered hem in matching silver.

"Er...I can't exercise in that," Vorrin said. It was the more diplomatic reply.

"This is a sparring outfit," Pins said. "An expensive one, but still equipped for actual sparring."

"I don't see how I'm supposed to fight in that." Vorrin stepped closer and flicked the hem of the skirt. "It's too long. And constricting. I'm not going to be able to move without tripping, ripping it, or showing everyone everything."

"It's not a skirt if that's what you're worried about," Switch said, setting the stacked dishes on the breakfast tray. The young man was as sharp as ever. He marched up the proffered outfit and grabbed the hem by one side, pulling it up to show the wide trouser legs beneath. "The overskirt is for show. It's split so it doesn't get in the way. Think of it as robes for fighting. Most of the military has switched to more obvious trousers, but most generals still wear this style. I don't know if you've noticed."

Vorrin couldn't say that he had. He didn't really pay attention to what his opponents were wearing in battle, and since becoming Empress Callista's consort, he'd been mostly confined. He assumed he'd seen mostly low-level soldiers since then, but it was also possible he'd missed it, either being in too much of an angry fog to notice or assuming they were robes like any other.

"The outfit's fine," Vorrin said crisply.

"Good!" Pins said. "Then let's get you ready!"

"I'll send for a soldier to escort you," Switch said. A shadow of a grimace crossed his face, but just as quickly it was gone. Replaced by his usual straight expression. "It might take a little while, so I should go now."

"We can go together," Pins offered.

"No, no." Switch drew himself up proudly. "I'm fully capable of finding someone. And it will be more efficient this way."

With a short bow toward Vorrin, he was out the door.

Pins had Vorrin dressed within a half hour. The bottoms were much more comfortable than he'd expected. His hair had taken on a simple style today, tied up into a tail. However, Pins still managed to make the simplicity elegant by using a silver hair ring instead of a regular hair tie.

The bedroom door burst open. Switch stormed in red-faced and hair-mussed, slender hands barely catching the door before its handle could hit the wall.

"I found someone," he said, easing the door shut before sitting hard in one of the dining sets.

"What happened?" Vorrin and Pins said together.

"Nothing. Like I said. It just takes a while to find soldiers who aren't busy."

"Switch, you're shaking," Vorrin said, his voice falling into the firm tone of his old station.

Switch looked down at his trembling hands with a surprised expression.

Switch clenched them. "I'm not scared or anything. I'm just mad."

"What happened?" Vorrin pressed again, this time summoning the authority Switch responded to.

"It's just soldiers being soldiers," the manservant spat. "Being crass and difficult and idiotic as usual. I swear, this is why I dropped out of the military. They're all so stupid. But of course, they can't let it go. I'm a traitor because I didn't fight in the war and even more so because I serve a Totholi consort." Switch's tone grew sharp and sarcastic. "Apparently, it's very unpatriotic of me to be at the beck and call of a Totholi general. Oh, and I think I'm better than them because of my cushy safe job and better pay and face-to-face meetings with the Empress."

At that last part, Switch let out a little gasp and pinned his lips tightly shut.

Another time, Vorrin would have seized that slip-up. He knew that Empress Callista was getting information on his behavior from someone. His manservants had been the most likely suspects, and this confirmed it. However, this was not the time.

"I didn't know you were military," Vorrin said instead.

"Was." Switch looked steadily at the ground a couple feet ahead, clenching his fists harder so the knuckles turned white. Vorrin knew that look. He kept dry anger at the forefront of his emotions, but he was probably fighting off tears. "I only squired for a year. I hate soldiers."

"Is that why you sometimes have a hard time with me?"

Switch flushed a little and a long pause stretched over the room. "Maybe. I don't know. I guess sometimes I see the resemblance. But you're not like them. I know that. Even if you are aggravating." He cleared his throat abruptly. "Sorry."

"Did the oh-so-proper and strict Switch make a joke?" Vorrin said with a mock gasp.

Switch rolled his eyes, but a small smile crept up his face. "Don't tell anyone."

"They're just being jerks because they're jealous," Pins piped in.

Vorrin nodded. "As a once stupid soldier, I have to agree. For men like them, there is a pecking order, and they're worried you're on top. And they hate that, so they're trying to convince you that you're not."

"But I don't want to be a part of their stupid pecking order at all," Switch said.

“Then you need to find the biggest instigator and give them a good punch in the nose.”

“You are a soldier.”

Vorrin shrugged. “It’ll at least show them you’re not going to take their rubbish.”

“But it’s so unrefined…”

“And they are? They’re a bunch of insecure bottom feeders with too much space in their skulls. I’m telling you, the only thing people like that respect is brute force.”

“I’m really beginning to doubt your strategic ability as Totholan’s best general.”

Vorrin chuckled. “Well, I can always punch one for you. I doubt they’re allowed to hit me back.”

Switch let out a long sigh, though it wasn’t entirely exasperated. He scrubbed his tearless face. "I’ll think about it. Pretty sure letting the royal consort get into fights isn’t a much better look. Anyway, the escort is waiting outside when you're ready."

Vorrin stood, stretching his arms over his head. “Time for me to go then. Guess I better show this little guppy who’s really in charge. ”

“Don’t.”

“Don’t worry, Switch. I know how to handle grunts.”

“Seriously don’t.”

Vorrin only grinned, flexing one of his bare arms before sweeping out the door.

As he stepped out into the hall, the soldier leaning against the outside wall stood up straight. He was about what Vorrin had expected: young, a little below average height, and built just enough to have real muscle but still feel uncomfortable in his own skin. Vorrin could see the inexperience in his shifting posture.

“Good morning, Royal Consort,” the soldier said offering a short bow. Obviously, his feelings on a Totholi consort were much different when face-to-face with him. “My name is Raoden. I’ll be escorting you.”

“Yeah, I’m not remembering that,” Vorrin said, stepping past the man without a second glance and starting toward the training ground. “How about I call you Button?”

“Well, er…”

“Perfect. Come on."

The soldier scrambled after him, needing to use his full stride to keep pace at Vorrin's side. As they reached the end of the hall, he angled toward the right, the direction to the main entrance of the arena.

Vorrin turned left.

"Um, I think the training grounds are--"

"I know how to get there," Vorrin said.

He strode the full length of the hall, turning left and then left again. He barely glanced at the other soldiers and servants they passed along the way, only stopping when he reached a worn, narrow door the same grey as the stone around it.

"Royal Consort--"

Vorrin was already pushing inside.

"Hello, boys!"

The whole room scrambled to their feet. A couple of men fell off their beds. One hit his head on the bunk above him as he rushed to stand.

“So this is where you all go to slack off.”

One of the soldiers without his shirt or shoes squirmed. “We’re off duty, your…Royal Consort…sir.”

“Of course. Don't mind me.” He mosied down the aisle, looking idly around with each step, gaze skimming past the soldiers enough that they dropped their heads to avoid eye contact. “I just wanted a look at my old quarters before Button here escorts me to the armory. Well, close enough. These were the squire quarters. You're all full-fledged soldiers, aren't you?"

"Er...most of us," Button interceded from behind. When Vorrin glanced back at him, the man stood by the entrance, looking desperate to lead Vorrin back out. "Military rankings work differently in Avarose. Um...should we perhaps..."

"Really? That's interesting." Vorrin sat himself down on one of the now-empty bunks. He crossed his ankle over his knee and leaned back on one hand. "How is it done in Avarose?"

Button looked around the room, but no one else spoke up. "Royal Consort Vorrin, I really think..."

Vorrin raised his brows. "Yes?"

"Uh...well, in Totholan there are three titled ranks, right? Page, squire, and knight? Though of course some knights can reach the higher rank of Knight General or the highest rank, like yourself, Grand Master."

Vorrin shook his head. "King Duras was the Grand Master. I'm just a general."

Button blinked and glanced toward his comrades and back. "Respectfully, sir...that wasn't what we were told in our briefing. That's why the Empress specifically--" He abruptly cut off and cleared his throat. "My point was Totholi military is more simplistic."

One of the soldiers snickered but stopped before Vorrin could identify who it was.

"Whereas Avarosian military is sort of...complicated."

Vorrin leaned his chin into his hand. "Oh?"

"There are ranks within ranks. Sort of like your knights, but with much more variety." He lifted one end of the wide scarlet sash wrapped around his middle. Looking at the colors may help. The lowest rank is yellow. Children in training wear the palest shade and it deepens as they move up. Green is the next rank, usually utilized as messengers or apprentices to higher-ranked soldiers. Blue is reserved for military medics. Red is for ordained soldiers, again the palest shades are always reserved for those with the least experience. Generals wear black. The sovereign wears white. But only on the battlefield.

Vorrin closed his eyes a moment, tentatively summoning a memory. He could still picture that day perfectly. Empress Callista standing over him, half of her hair escaped from its braid, the long tails of her "white" sash whipping in the wind. In reality, it had only been white in small patches; the majority of it was dyed red with blood. The point of her blade pressed carefully into his throat. He'd swallowed. She'd grinned.

Vorrin's eyes shot back open. He pushed himself back to his feet, shoving the memory's emotions deep down and instead surveying the soldiers once again.

"It seems every one of you carries a red sash. I'm surprised."

"Sir?"

"It took thirty minutes for my manservant to acquire one of you. You do realize that a request from my servants is a request from me?"

Button bowed his head. "Yes, Royal Consort."

"Tell me, how long did you spend arguing, drawing straws, and over me instead of doing your duty."

Button sank so far between his shoulders he resembled a turtle. "Too long, Royal Consort."

A part of Vorrin wanted to punish them further for Switch's sake. But Button had admitted his fault without excuse. Vorrin had to give the man credit for that. Many of the men looked equally chastened. No need to press further when a reprimand was being received.

"I suggest being a little quicker next time," he finished.

"Yes, Royal--"

"You're not in charge of us, Tolothi," another soldier interrupted. The man was all wiry muscle and unruly hair. Vorrin noted that his sash was vermillion whereas many of the other's were crimson.

Vorrin stalked up to the man, gazing down at him from under half-lowered lids. "Am I not?"

"You're a pet."

"Argin," one of the crimson soldiers hissed warningly.

"A dog may be pampered and protected," Argin continued, meeting Vorrin's eyes. " but that doesn't make it less a dog. And a dog holds no authority no matter who it belongs to."

Vorrin only smiled. "You sleep in a bunk bed. I sleep beside the Empress. Maybe I am a dog, but between the two of us, I wonder who has more authority. I suppose if you're really concerned I could ask the Empress what she thinks."

Argin paled a fraction and clenched his teeth hard enough to crack. He ducked away from Vorrin's gaze. "Aren't you supposed to be practicing sparring or something?"

"You're right. Thank you, Kitty."

The man flushed equal parts embarrassment and anger.

"Come along, Raoden."

Button looked a little shocked at the usage of his real name, but he quickly fell in step, following Vorrin through the door at the back of the room into another room of bunks, this one empty. The Knights' old quarters. They passed rows and rows of beds before exiting another door into the armory.

Unlike the barracks, this room had been completely reorganized. Probably so it could hold all the weapons that the Avarosian army had brought with them.

Vorrin ran his hand down the row of spears lined along the wall. "Any limits on which weapons I'm allowed to use?"

"I don't think Empress Callista established a rule." Button looked around the room nervously. "Maybe nothing too sharp?"

Vorrin tsked. "Do you have so little faith in yourself that I need a handicap?"

"When it comes to you, sir, yes."

"Really? You don't think you could stop me if I was armed? A little concerned for the person who is supposed to keep me from escaping.

Button swallowed. "I don't know, sir. But I know it took the Empress to defeat you, and I couldn't win against the Empress." He gathered himself taller. "However, Royal Consort, I don't think you plan on running. Even if I fell, there are at least a hundred guards between here and the end of the palace grounds. They would catch you immediately."

Button's tone begged Vorrin not to try anything. He almost seemed to be trying to convince himself as much as Vorrin. He was right though. Vorrin suspected that having a watch was more about preventing him from stealing weapons than stopping an escape attempt.

"I'll stick with the quarterstaff then," Vorrin said, plucking the long wooden pole off the wall. "I only want to practice some movements today anyway."

Button nodded, relieved, and they exited the armory into the training grounds. A light breeze wafted the smell of the dusty earth, and the musty hay of the training dummies to his nose. Vorrin closed his eyes, breathing in the familiar scents. It had been a long time.

The quarterstaff felt a little strange in his hands. Though his hands instinctively gripped the right places, the weapon no longer fit the same against his too-smooth palms.

Vorrin spun the staff a couple times before trying a stab. He stumbled a little and gritted his teeth. He'd overextended.

His immediate reaction was a surge of rage, but he exhaled the emotion slowly. This is fine. Just go back to the basics.

He fell into a defensive stance. Block, parry, stab. Block, parry, stab. He moved slowly, perfecting each movement as he went. After about four times, he picked up speed, throwing in a few dodging movements and thrusting out the pole in low and high attacks.

Button yawned from the sidelines.

Vorrin half-wanted to ask the guard to spar with him, but he doubted that was allowed. Maybe he should asked for two guards next time, one to spar with and another to watch him. Better yet, maybe he could begin bargaining for the release of his soldiers. Not at all at once, but one or two at a time. He missed their familiar company. Not to mention, he’d need them if this uprising was going to work.

Having enough of the repetitive movements, Vorrin imagined an invisible enemy before him. He’d done this all the time as a boy when the other pages refused to be his sparring partner. Having Captain Kenric for a mentor had remedied that, but he’d still found solace in solo sparring once in a while.

He lowered into a defensive stance, holding the quarterstaff diagonal from his body. He circled slowly, searching for weak spots, knowing his enemy was doing the same. Abruptly, he thrust the staff forward. The enemy dodged, swinging back at him violently. He barely stepped back in time, throwing the staff sideways to block the blow. He gritted his teeth and widened his stance further against the imaginary weight. He shoved forward hard, knocking the figment backward. He stalked forward, raising his elbows in preparation for the finishing jab. He thrust the weapon forward, and...

A very visible, very real sword collided with the end of his staff.

Vorrin inhaled sharply, retreating back a couple steps and instinctively throwing out his quarterstaff in front of him. It took a couple moments for him to make sense of the red-and-gold-clad figure in front of him.

Empress Callista glanced at the weapon then casually back to his face with a widening grin. She slid her sword back into its sheath. “Hello, dear."

Vorrin exhaled slowly, doing his best to hide the tension ebbing from his muscles. He'd felt like a hair-trigger ready to fire. "What are you doing here?"

"What, I can't visit my consort? you weren't in your quarters; I was told I could find you here." Her eyes roved back to the weapon. "It's been a while since I've seen you in action. Serious as ever I see."

Vorrin furrowed his brow. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Some people spar for fun, you know. But you have that same look you have in battle. Fighting isn't a game to you, is it?"

Where did she get off acting like she knew anything about him?

"I spar for fun," he said a little sharper than intended. "But there's nothing fun about swinging a stick around by yourself. Besides, if I'm going to regain all my skills, I can't afford to be lax."

Empress Callista let out a little amused breath. "Well then, we'll need to spar together sometime."

Vorrin's face warmed. "I wasn't implying that I wanted--"

"I like the outfit," she interrupted. "Very classic."

“Well, it was in my wardrobe.”

Empress Callista gasped in mock offense. “Are you suggesting that I gave you those clothes just because I wanted to see them on you?”

“Is that not true?”

“Well, maybe.” She winked, her smile landing somewhere firmly between flirtatious and wicked. However, the sly curve quickly straightened into a more serious expression. “I didn’t know what you looked like until the first time we faced each other in battle. I had no idea what would suit you, so we brought lots.”

“You didn’t think we had clothes here?” Vorrin said.

“Dressing you in our styles was intentional."

"And now?"

"It still is. But your comfort is also important, so we'll find a compromise."

Vorrin let the butt of the quarterstaff rest against the ground. He leaned into it like a walking stick. "Dressing me like an Avarosian isn't going to win over the people. They're just going to be mad that I'm betraying our culture."

"Maybe. But it does show them who you belong to." Her gaze darkened. "And it's not just for your people. Mine need reminders too."

Vorrin's insides went cold. Empress Callista was so confident, so domineering in every action and word, he'd never considered that her people might have as many disagreements with this plan as he did. He was safe...wasn't he?"

"Anyway, darling," she said, shattering the frozen feeling encasing him, "as much as I love our little tiffs, I came to wish you farewell. I'm heading to the border this afternoon."

Vorrin remembered what Pins had said about the Empress saying goodbye. He sincerely hoped that neither manservant had shared his interest in her departure. "You don't need to do that. My servants would have told me."

"Ah. Of course." She cleared her throat and gathered herself up a little straighter. "It's a two-week trip--5 days to the border and another 5 back. I would have felt strange saying nothing at all."

Vorrin didn't quite know how to respond, so he stayed silent.

The empress cleared her throat again. Wait a minute. Did she actually feel awkward right now?

“Is there anything you need before I go?” she said

"I need your soldiers to stop terrorizing my manservants."

The empress's forehead furrowed. Not confusion, or doubt. More...disciplinary. The look of a parent when they're told their child has been caught teaching curse words.

"Explain."

"Pins gets his wages partially stolen whenever he sends money back home to his mother. And Switch gets harassed when he makes requests on my behalf. It has to do with serving a Totholi, which, I would like to remind them, is literally his job."

Empress Callista raised her brows. "Switch and Pins?"

"That's what I call them."

She didn't push it further.

Vorrin continued on. "They're in positions of power and servants to the Empire. They're abusing those positions for personal gain. If it were my men they'd be cleaning everyone's armor for the next week. Or be working directly with me until they wised up."

Vorrin caught movement out of the corner of his eye. Perhaps his voice had risen too loud because Button shifted uncomfortably from his post at the arena's edge. His eyes flicked their way, briefly connecting with Vorrin's. The young man's shoulders leaped a little, and he hastily averted his gaze to the empty space ahead of him.

The young man had been properly chastened earlier, but Vorrin wanted him to bring this information back to the others.

"They can't be allowed to act this way, can they?" he said, letting his anger raise his voice even louder.

"No," the empress said firmly. "Their behavior is unacceptable. Unfortunately, I don't have control of every action the people in my employ make. However, I will be alerting my generals and captains of the issue. They should provide some correction. Let me know if it continues."

Vorrin nodded. Despite the many things that bothered him about the empress, the one thing he could count on was that she was fair. King Duras had allowed, even encouraged, a toxic dynamic in his army. One where power and physical strength reigned as dictators. It had taken a long while for Vorrin to clean up once he became Knight General, so he couldn't help but appreciate the empress's standards.

She tipped her head to catch his gaze. "I assure you, Vorrin. The trust I have in my army is critical to me. I allow error, and I allow redemption, but those I deem untrustworthy have no place with me.

"I know. Thank you." The words came out before Vorrin knew what he was saying. To his surprise, he actually meant them.

"Anyway," he said, diverting the attention from his last words. "Why are you going to the border?"

Empress Callista smiled thinly. "There's confidential information I don't want to be written in a letter. At least not one that passes many hands. Not only that, but I'm going to be surveying the area for construction."

"Construction?"

"For the new capital. With the kingdoms merging, I can't stay here. Avarose would be outraged. But I can't return as if nothing happened either, or I risk losing my foothold. We need a neutralized city equally distant between both locations."

"Idosa won't be the capital anymore?" Vorrin didn't know why he hadn't thought about that sooner. Technically, Idosa had ceased being the capital the moment Empress Callista won the war. Yet, everything remained so much the same, the castle, the stationing of the guard, the mannerisms of the city... He'd never imagined this type of reform.

"Don't act so sullen. This will be a massive change for all of us. Streles has been the Avarosian capital for centuries. I'm anticipating a heated argument with every noble and advisor I have over the next few months."

"And me?"

It wasn't a very articulate question, but the empress seemed to understand.

"You'll come with me, of course. Not only to the new capital but to Avarose as well. The new city will take time to build, so we may travel back and forth for some time."

"I could stay here." That was something consorts did, right? Have their own homes? At least, King Duras had gifted his mistresses residences within and without the city. Then again, many of them were not official consorts. Still, it wasn't as if Callista needed him outside Idosa. If she gave him this place, he could fix it. It wouldn't be exactly as it was, but it could be close.

Even as he tried to convince himself of nobler intentions, the truth gnawed at him. He was scared. Outside of battle and expeditions for the King, he'd never lived anywhere else. He'd grown up here. He'd become something here.

Empress Callista shook her head, a little sympathy peeking through her steady expression. "You're my token. A representation of our countries' union. You'll always be with me."

Always?

Vorrin's lungs suddenly felt tight. Like he'd been shoved into a space--a cage--too tight for his body.

The empress's hands found his face, stroking his cheekbones with her thumbs. "It's alright, love. I will take care of you."

As if that was what worried him. Like he was a child who needed consoling about moving away from his friends. As if this was just about him and not everyone in Idosa--no Tothalan! And him a helpless bird with clipped wings.

No. No, don't think about that.

He released a shuddering breath.

He could stop this. None of this had to happen if he completed his mission. Calm. Calm. He just had to endure a while.

Vorrin stepped back out of her reach and looked down at her gold-button travel boots.

"Good luck, on your journey."

Empress Callista's hands dropped to her side, but she stepped forward, regaining the ground between them. "If you need anything, if you have any trouble, send for me. I'll return."

"Ah, so you expect trouble," Vorrin joked, not quite able to summon the humor into his smile.

She gently took his chin, raising his face to her eyes before withdrawing again. Her eyes appeared almost molten in the sunlight.

"I will be back before you know it."

Vorrin wasn't sure if that was meant as a comfort or a warning, maybe both. It made him feel strange.

He took two long steps back this time, properly distancing himself.

"Well, goodbye then. Bring me back something nice." With that, he turned his back on her, striding back to Button. "I'd like to go back to my room now."

Vorrin allowed the soldier to lead him through the proper exit this time. As they left, he felt the empress's eyes following him.

He did not look back.

Taglist:

@whatiswhump, @aprilraine, @ilovescarletwitch, @conniedensazation, @feedthebirds, @bloodinkandashes

#love thy enemy #creative writing #empress x general #empress x soldier #royalty #royal x soldier #writing series #fiction #writblr #writeblr #enemies to lovers #slowburn #writing #thepenultimateword #chapter #orginal characters #orginal story

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sunshine-daisies-library · 11 months ago

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ghost of you | steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: steve harrington comes to the realization that he needs you more than anything. if only he had come to that realization before he lost you forever.

warnings: breakup, angst, drinking, depression, hopeful ending

wordcount: 2.05k

author's note: this fic is based off ghost of you by 5sos, and i hope you enjoy it! i started writing this like back in february and just decided to finish it up now, so there might be random gaps in there just lmk lol. if you'd like a part two, let me know!

Steve couldn’t sleep as well as he did before. Weeks of tossing and turning could no longer be blamed on a supposedly lumpy mattress. Dustin and Robin had told him time and time again that if he wanted a new mattress he could simply buy a new one. But the mattresses at the store were missing something. They didn’t come with the faint smell of your shampoo, or the wrinkles in the sheets from when you last slept over.

Nearly two months had passed since you were here, yet everything remained the same in Steve’s bedroom. Your side of the bed was untouched. No matter how much Steve insisted he was getting over you, he still refused to sleep on your side of the bed.

Steve rolled out of bed and dragged his feet down the stairs. The floors creaked with every heavy step until he made it down to the kitchen. Dust coated the countertop from lack of use aside from a plate of uneaten food here and there. Robin always made sure Steve had food - she’d stop by the local pizzeria at times and buy him a slice. But as soon as she’d leave, he’d push away the plate and go back to bed.

Steve sat down on the barstool and sighed to himself. To his right sat a half empty cup of coffee. There was nothing special about the cup, it was just a blue cup with a faded “world’s okay-est dad” printed on it from the kids last holiday. But to Steve, it was your cup. Your lipstick was still stained on the rim, faint but still there. God, you didn’t live together officially back then, yet you had designated the left side of the bed and Steve’s yellow sweatshirt as yours, not that Steve minded, though. He loved you, adored you, even.

If only he told you that when it mattered most.

–

Steve wasn’t sure why he gave into Robin and Nancy’s idea. Perhaps it was because he was such a pushover for the kids, that nature transferred to them as well. Nonetheless, Steve was heavily regretting it.

Now, all of Steve’s house was being deeply cleaned to a near perfect state. Nancy suggested throwing a party to get Steve “out of his funk,” as she put it. Anything to help improve his mood, but in reality Steve wanted to do anything but party. He couldn’t when you weren’t by his side, making sure he didn’t drink too much or that he had enough water and food in his stomach. Not when you weren’t pulling him to the middle of the room to dance like no one was watching, or whispering in his ear that you had enough socializing for one night. Those moments, he would look into your eyes and not break away when he called out to everyone that the party was over. Because you were everything to him and anything you said goes. That is until he broke things off with you.

Why did he ever end things?

Steve’s mind was racing as he absentmindedly swept the living room floor, dust accumulating at his feet. He didn’t hear Robin’s voice calling out to him until she was literally in front of him, shaking his shoulders. The boy snapped out of his thoughts, flinching at his friend’s rough shaking.

“Jesus, Rob,” he shook his head. “What do you want?”

Robin rolled her eyes at his hostility and crossed her arms on her chest. “Nancy called,” she deadpanned. “She did the laundry and found a bunch of old crap. She wants to know if she can throw them out or donate them.”

Steve sighed, running his fingers through his uncommonly flat, greasy hair. He had forgotten to shower -once again- but he made a mental note to do so once he finished cleaning the house. “It’s probably my mom’s stuff. I’ll go down to check it out.”

Handing the broom and dustpan to his friend, Steve casually walked downstairs to meet Nancy. And at that moment, he felt as though his entire world collapsed in front of him. In a way, his world really did.

Nancy was crouched by the dryer, folding clothes and sorting them as she pleased. At her side was a lime green basket full of Steve’s old sweatshirts and jeans he once had haphazardly strewn across his bedroom floor. Sitting on top of the pile was a faded black Led Zeppelin shirt. The design was barely there anymore, and you could barely make out the words on it. But that didn’t matter to Steve. That was your shirt and not Nancy’s to touch.

“Hey Steve,” she greeted without looking up from her work. “I set aside a pile of–”

“What did you do?” Steve yelled, his voice raspy and broken from lack of use. He scrambled to the ground and reached for his band t-shirt. The worn material was thin and frail in his hands, almost to a point where he could pull a thread from the hem and the entire shirt would fall apart.

Nancy shot up in alarm, not expecting his frantic reaction. “I-I did the laundry-”

“NO!” he cried out. He brought the article of clothing to his nose, desperately trying to smell you, find you, in the shirt but to no avail. All that he could smell was the stupid detergent from the convenience store.

Tears streamed down his face and onto the cotton, quickly absorbing it and darkening the shirt color. “That was all I had of her,” he sobbed. “How could you, I-I”

Robin ran down into the laundry room at the sound of Steve yelling. “What’s going on here?” she called, racing to meet her friends. “Nancy what happened?”

The poor girl only shrugged her shoulders. “I was just finishing up the laundry and Steve flipped out. Something about a memento?”

Robin stared down at the broken man before her. She could barely recognize him anymore. He was a wreck without you. “y/n’s shirt,” was all Robin could say.

Closing his eyes, Steve could barely make out the image of you in the rain. You had yet another quarrel with your family and ended up at his doorstep. The fuzzy memory replayed in his head, how you were out of breath from running across town to him, looking for him. How he held you the entire night while you wore that shirt since your original clothes were wet and muddy. You clung to him as if he were your lifeline, and he held you with the same regard. They always said you two were too young to know what love felt or meant. No one understood or felt your hurt the way he did. That’s what made you perfect for each other.

And that’s what made you each other’s poison.

–

The debacle was resolved once Steve had fallen asleep in his room, locking himself away for the rest of the afternoon until cleaning had completed. Robin had consoled Nancy after she kicked herself for her mistake, but there was nothing that could be done afterwards. Something Steve had forgotten was that they had lost a friend as well. If he wasn’t your person, Nancy was, the girl glued to the hip wherever you went. And Robin was a little sister to you, the kids, too. You were an essential part of your little group. And now you’re just gone.

Soon enough, the party started and the Harrington Manor was filled to the brim with drunk high school students or popular has-beens. No one quite knew how they managed to get in, but no one stopped them or cared for that matter. It was a long shot, but Eddie, Nancy, and Robin were grasping at straws to get their Steve back. If a party to reminisce old times brings back his cheerful spark, then they were willing to buy all the booze Hawkins could supply.

Steve stood by himself in the corner of the main room of the house, nursing his third can of beer of the hour. He was silent, despite the many people coming up in their drunken stupor to greet the supposed host of the party. All he could manage was a fake smile and nod to bore them off.

All of a sudden, he caught a glimpse of a familiar color of hair. He whipped his head around to follow the shadow, only for it to disappear into the crowd. Steve hurried to push through waves of people dancing to music Steve could only describe as pure trash, to find what he was looking for. After all, could it be? After two months, could a party bring you back to him?

“y/n!” Steve shouted out, his voice drowned out in the blaring music. “y/n!”

The shadow did not stop, but neither did Steve. Steve followed it to the backyard, shouting and stumbling as the alcohol in his system began to take over.

“Steve!” a voice shouted behind him. Steve finally stopped to turn around and see Max staring back at him in disbelief. “What the hell are you yelling about?”

Steve’s hands trembled as he grabbed Max’s shoulders. “y/n,” he whispered. “I saw her, I swore I saw her here. She was right there, I-”

“Steve,” Max sighed. “She’s not here. She never was.” The teen pointed out at the garden and pool, seeing no one in sight. Truth be told, absolutely no one was there. Not in the party, nor the backyard. Steve’s grief had taken him by storm. Max feared the worst for him.

–

The party finally ended in the early hours of the morning. Steve woke up on the sticky floor of his manor to the sound of his doorbell ringing. The night was a blur to him. He could barely recall when the party started, much as when it ended. There were flashes of blaring lights and music in Steve’s intoxicated mind. His friends had tried to stop him from drinking himself stupid. At one point, Eddie had to catch him off the kitchen counter when he thought he could crowd surf. To put it shortly, his friends had gotten extremely upset with him and left not long after. Not that Steve cared, though. The alcohol in his system and neverending dread prevented him from caring.

“I can’t keep doing this anymore, Steve,” Robin had yelled over the loud music. Their friends nodded solemnly behind her. “We can’t keep letting you sulk and drink yourself to death. But we can’t help you when you can’t help yourself.”

“Like I care,” Steve slurred, stumbling over himself. Trashy beer dribbled down his chin, onto his expensive sweater. “I didn’t ask you guys to help me. I didn’t ask you to wash her shirt, or clean her side of the bed. I didn’t ask you to help me forget her.”

“We aren’t telling you to forget her,” Dustin sighed for the millionth time that night. “We just want you to go back to normal.”

Steve plopped down against the wall, his head creating a thud noise against it. “How can I?” he began to cry. “I see her everywhere. It’s like her ghost is still here, dancing through the house.” His friends stared down at him feeling absolutely helpless. The young teens watched pitifully. Steve was their rock throughout it all. He was the strongest person they knew, but now he was broken in a million pieces and there was nothing they could do.

And now, Steve clumsily stood up and kicked around empty beer cans as he approached the door.

“Alright,” he grumbled, thinking it was one of his friends. He knew he had to apologize for the things he said that night, but he was hoping he’d get a chance to get over his hangover first.

The doorbell rang one more time, causing Steve to wince at the pinging noise. “I heard you the first time, for fuck’s sake,” he yelled out. Unlocking the door, the door swung open to reveal not Nancy, or Dustin, or even Robin for that matter.

“Stevie,” you whispered, teary eyed. You were wearing his yellow sweatshirt and hadn’t changed a bit. From your hair to your stature. You were still his girl.

“y/n,” Steve gasped out.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fic recs #steve harrington #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfiction #joe keery #joe keery x reader #5sos #ghost of you

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swan2swan · 4 months ago

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Listening to the Heidi interview:

-Yaz's Chaos Theory was last to be designed first, Ben and Darius were first.

-They get to take off their jackets without losing them, and they use their pockets! (Dunno if that's just Season One stuff, with Sammy finding the map in the pocket and Darius losing his coat for an episode)

-There were a LOT of Rambo-Ben edits in Camp Cretaceous. He's apparently VERY MUCH revised (I'll keep my eyes open). There were things where he was supposed to "Not Be Afraid Of Anything", which would have been funny, but it is more realistic for him to still be scared a lot.

-Yaz and Sammy didn't get greenlit officially until partway into the pandemic (obviously the groundwork was there but they didn't get the go-ahead until the two seasons were officially wriitten, probably with confirmed renewal).

-The best parts of Chaos Theory are yet to come

-A LOT of character development happens after the writing stage and into the board stage. Storyboard artists and directors have a lot of say on how characters are depicted, so it's a lot like working with live-action...things change after writing.

-The reference sheets for Chaos Theory were better than the ones in Camp Cretaceous; the model sheets for Bumpy (pre-adult) were just front view and side view. No toys to reference. But it would have been useful (PROVIDE YOUR ARTISTS WITH RESOURCES, STUDIOS!).

-First scene she revised was when Yaz finds out Ben is alive. Spikes were difficult to figure out.

-Kentrosaurus is also really hard to stage, because you'll block out characters with shoulder spikes, and you have to draw them quickly and simply (shorthand), so you have to keep all of the complexities in mind.

-Robot dogs were not "The worst thing they added" (INSERT JOKE). But the invisible force fields and doors were tough to work with (because the storyboard artists didn't know how they worked!). Which...wow, props to that.

-"Jurassic Park IS a science fiction series" I CHEERED "And it's written by Michael Crichton, who also wrote Westworld" CHEEEEEERING AGAIN!!! "and it's impossible to bring back dinosaurs..."

-She likes the scene where Ben smashes the BRADs with a golf club (I have the files to make gifs, that's coming).

-In Camp Cretaceous, the kids weren't allowed to get physical with the dinos. Kenji can't kick a compy, e.g...."Too violent!" NO IMITABLE BEHAVIOR. Hence...you lose a lot (but Kenji gets to punch a raptor now!).

#jwct #chaos theory #heidi neunhoffer #jurassic world: chaos theory

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almacambiondaughterofsaleos · 2 months ago

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Proto-Stella Was Chill And I Miss That

One thing I really liked about proto-Stella on the instagram accounts before the official series is that she didn't feel like a bland caricature even though she really didn't do anything except just seem disconnected with her husband's affair. In the first picture, I have seen stans say this is an indication that Stella was always meant to be abusive which is pushing it when it looks more like she's trying to keep up an image. And I think with proto-Stella she is someone who is more into keeping up an image even if there is no love between her and her husband. And I actually like that interpretation instead of the one dimensional make my husband miserable at all cost cliche we got.

I think they did this because they believed it would make Stolas too unsympathetic if they went the route of him having a chill wife and yet he still cheats on her. On the other hand, I actually think it would have serviced him if she was chill but still tried to keep an image up to high society because she still had to play a role because in the scene where she had her bathrobe up she didn't do anything violent except maybe just ponder why the heck her husband is wearing her wardrobe.

I could still see an arranged marriage being a thing here but instead of just making his life miserable she is just apathetic and shows it through just keeping up face and just not that interested in her husband's affairs. In fact, I think it would so be better for Octavia than a raving mother making an unsettling atmosphere. Proto-Stella probably would be classist but she wouldn't see the imp as a threat since again if this was actually an example of how hell treats marriage she would just see Stolas' thing for an imp as just him having a concubine which again is a thing that was common in earth royalty for centuries. I still think if the Goetia royalty was anything like real royalty marriage is more business like while affairs with lower concubines are more for pleasure and she could just treat Blitzo as just a lower raced boy toy her husband keeps to relieve himself.

Overall, the homelife is not forced volatile but just feels like it's apathetic and a wife who is just in her own world which I think would have felt more compelling but still have Stolas be questioned if that was the way to handle things. Maybe even have Stella just say she doesn't care about his affair but please at least keep it discreet so that he won't get in trouble or even say he can keep his secret by doing favors for her thus keep focusing on the og premise where the gang could go to different missions at her wishes. And seriously, make use of her friends by having her be in on her husband's business and say they want some requests as well for them to fulfill due to having certain humans they want targeted or have as personal slaves/servants.

However, when the series happened well let's just say we saw the demonization occur and the new design which set her as the one dimensional domestic abuser we see her in canon. And again gone is that chill and there is nothing but an annoying shrieking harpy made to make Stolas look like a uwu baby and not the fact he did something that caused the family structure he supposedly built for Octavia to be destroyed. All that potential that I mentioned thrown out the window so that we can have this false impression that Stolas is a saintly good dad and not a scummy pos. And again this is where the moon deal began and how his character deteriorated.

If I would give anything is to have that pro-Stella be there. Like I almost think you could change the whole story and it would be better than the canon project. You would have to change things like the assignation because she no longer wants Stolas dead but you could make her a red herring and would insulted that anyone would accuse her of killing the father of her child even if he cheats on her regularly. It would be fun if the twist that one of her circle friends was the one who wanted the hit because maybe they are in love with Stella and want to get with her since they think Stolas is too good for her. Also with the Andrealphus connection he could still be her brother but he could learn about Stolas' affair and the IMP business and Stella says he can arrange a request due to blackmailing her husband again tying back to the premise. And eventually due to how many people begin knowing about Stolas renting out his book it would get more harder to hide it until things unravel.

When you look at a proto example of a character and see how they ended up it can be very disheartening to see how so much potential was given up. Stella is not exception and I want that type of character we saw before her redesign because it looked like it would have been fun to just see someone who was this chill character who just vibed and tried to keep up a somewhat normal appearance as the wife of a high ranking goetia member. But we needed to have an excuse for why he was compelled to cheat, instead of actually have Stolas as a moral character. Even if Stella is apathetic, what would his daughter think. With an apathetic mother she probably wouldn't feel as unwelcomed in home because of her mother was more chill, but at the same time she feels not okay with her dad having basically a side piece. And again most of all it would make sense why Stolas could trust his daughter to be with her mother because she is a chill person and not someone you have to walk on eggshells. In other words, proto-Stella would fit better storylines for this family to navigate with having Blitzo introduced in their lives.

#helluva boss #helluva boss critical #vivziepop critical #vivziepop criticism #helluva boss criticism #vivziepop #helluva boss critique #anti-vivziepop #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel critical #stolas critical #stella #stella evolution #stolas #blitzo

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beatrice1979a · 7 months ago

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Sunburn

Reverse Marinette's first heartbreak

credits: @adorkastock for this pose

@bgony for alt chloe design.

Yes that's reverse Adrien many months before his haircut.

@generalluxun for Chloe's sunny character concept. Marvelous just Marvelous! Chloe can kill with kindness. Check their reverse fics Note that Alt!Chloe is definitely NOT into Adrien or any man. But I needed a Chloe. Update: read this post here for more about this Chloe. Let's pretend for a moment the Supreme forced her to date Paris' beloved teen celebrity for the Greater Good. What's even scarier is that this brainwashed Chloe would probably comply gladly.

Sunburn

(English is not my first language. So grin and bear it)

They say never meet your heroes or, in this case, your beloved idol. Marinette learned this the hard way.

She was beside herself when she learned that, despite the rumors of having (yet again) a new Supreme-sanctioned girlfriend, the self-proclaimed teen heartthrob Sunshine Boy Adrien was having an informal meet and greet at Le Grand Paris. Just two blocks away from her own home. There was no point asking for permission. Her parents would never allow it. But this chance was too good to let it lapse.

It was dark and everyone was asleep. She grabbed a few magazines and one of the many pictures scattered all over her punk themed bedroom and, silently escaped her room by climbing down the side wall of her three storey home. She ran into the night and camped, hours before dawn, by the expected location, right near the entrance of the fanciest hotel in Paris. It was chilly and slightly humid as the sun climbed the sky but Marinette didn't pay any mind even as the noisy swarm of fans started gathering all around the area forcing her to push and fight to keep her privileged spot in the queue.

There he was, Adrien Agreste in the flesh, even more handsome than portrayed in the heavily retouched press photos or the official telescreen channels. Her heart skipped a beat and she charged forward to beg for an autograph.

And then she saw her.

His arm around her with such unbearable familiarity. Her golden messy hair precariously arranged in two braided ponytails. Unmistakably her. Blinding her with that sunny personality and that oh-so-hideous saccharine smile plastered on that ridiculously pretty doll-like face: Chloe. Chloe Bourgeois. The snobbiest prissy miss perfect, top-of-the-class loved-by-all daughter of the mayor of Paris. Chloe Bourgeois. Her bully. Her tormentor. The only person who single-handedly made her life a total misery every single day since kindergarten. Even today on this otherwise auspicious day.

She felt something snap and, for a moment, she couldn't move. As she missed her chance, she got shoved and pushed by the hoards of screeching fans hopelessly drawn to the golden pair like moths to a flame. A flame Marinette could no longer see with tears clouding her sight and threatening to ruin her heavy makeup and the magazines she clutched for dear life onto her chest.

Then another spark blew from her heart, and fire swallowed her whole, uncontrolled, until it scorched her feelings and escaped her lips in a shaken broken whisper: I hate you.

I hate you. She repeated and ran as fast as she could until she crashed back in her bed. She ignored the angry protests of her parents and, possessed by an irrational anger, she dragged all the posters, the pictures, the Supreme endorsed propaganda and threw them into the open fire of the large oven at the back of the bakery. She just stood there hypnotized, staring and staring as that pretty boy face writhed in the flames.

When everything was reduced to ashes, she pulled her phone and called that guy who'd been pestering her for the last few months, begging her for a date. And she agreed. Because she also wanted to shine. She wanted to be loved and held tightly, and worshipped even if for just a moment, even if that moment was going to be with that obnoxious, arrogant, stuck-up class president, Le Chien Kim.

But maybe just then she would finally stop feeling like such a loser for having that ridiculous crush for someone who didn't even know she existed.

And with those thoughts she promised to never succumb to the whims of her heart ever again.

But Marinette was right at least for one thing: Adrien Agreste had never even seen her before in his life. Not until a few weeks later when he decided to finally surprise his mother with her favorite artisan macarons and his feet dragged him to the door of the most popular bakery of the 21th arrondissement.

youtube

Come let the truth be shared No one ever dared To break these endless lies Secretly, she cries

And I'll hide from the world Behind a broken frame And I'll run forever I can't face the shame

#adrinetteapril2024 #day 12: reverse crush #adrinette april #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #tales of shadybug and claw noir #B's art #reverse marinette #reverse adrien #shadyverse #mlb paris special #reverse chloe #design from bgony #shadyclaw #miraculous ladybug #shadyclaw playlist #Youtube

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cenorii · 8 months ago

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And here we are again… RE9 theory

It's time for another theory! I'll be writing these right up until the release of RE9, so apologies if you're tired of speculation. I had a theory about this Wesker concept once before, but it came out too vague + I tied the concept to RE4R, but it never made it into the game. So here's a new theory that has captured my brain.

What if, this concept never belonged to re4r? What if it showed up in early development of re9? Let me explain.

Imagine that Wesker is alive in re9. You can imagine the importance of keeping such a news secret, because it is quite a shocking information for fans. If this is the main intrigue in re9, the game would lose it if information about Wesker leaked to the public. If you were the designers and developers, you wouldn't let such news get out of the organization any way. So, put yourself in the shoes of a Capcom employee? Let's move on.

Suddenly such an important detail is leaked by Wesker's voice actor and your intrigue risks becoming public, the game will lose half of its interest without keeping Wesker a secret. You, as a developer\designer need to solve something, somehow fix the situation so that no one will know about the return of this character in the new game.

Then you make a GENIAL decision, setting your sights on re4r, which is in the middle of development. You decide to add this Wesker design to re4r to ward off all suspicion and get out of the disadvantage. Well done, you succeeded in fooling the fandom, now everyone is convinced that this concept was originally made for re4r.

It would seem that everything is fine, no one will know the truth until the re9 release happens, but… Wesker's concept never showed up in re4r. That image is not inside the game or in the concept book. We, the players, are left to assume that this concept was trivially not intended for re4r.

To confirm this theory, I'll ask you to pay attention to a few details - the face (1), the hair (2) and the hand (3). 1. The face, to be honest, could be anything on these concepts, because they are made sometimes before the studio finds the right actor to give the appearance to the character. But I'm left wondering if his face here is taken from re5 and yet looks much older. If this was for re4r, wouldn't Wesker look younger? 2. His hairstyle deviates a lot from the usual style that every game has. Capcom couldn't change Wesker's hairstyle for the REMAKE of the game, because it's an important part of it. Changing his hairstyle is tantamount to removing his sunglasses. But that kind of hair is acceptable for a new game. I assume this is how his new style was planned for the future in which he is alive (?). If you've ever seen the "early" versions of re4r, you probably know that in them Wesker has that exact weird hairstyle, which Leon also has in the "hero" skin. I believe that when Capcom added the "hero" hairstyle to Wesker, they were trying to make him look even more like the concept to minimize information leaks among the staff.

3. In none of the games did Wesker suffer an arm injury. In Code Veronica, his hand was set on fire, but the wound is not serious and Wesker is able to heal his wounds in SECONDS. It doesn't make sense to emphasize his wound for a Code Veronica concept. It also doesn't make sense to do a wound for re4r, because in the original Wesker never left his chair at all, and in the remake he didn't get into any serious fights. This wound is something new that hasn't happened yet, but one day will. In all the games, Wesker heals any injuries quickly, but at the end of re5 he took too much damage, so he probably lost some of his strength, causing him to keep his wounds for a long time.

That's the kind of thoughts that visit me when I see this image but don't see it inside re4r. If it's a "discarded" concept, it too should appear officially, like Ada's concept for re8 that was never added to the game.

Thanks for reading, really looking forward to re9 to see how far I was from the truth. (Help me. I'm going crazy.)

#resident evil #rebhfun #ada wong #albert wesker #resident evil theory #resident evil 9 #resident evil 4 #cenori's long posts about RE

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estrella-etoile · 1 year ago

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Two Views of the Cave of Ten Thousand Gods

Unpopular opinion, probably, but... Mu Qing and Feng Xin had a point when they went to extremes to try to get Xie Lian away from Hua Cheng

even if they were wrong.

Let's look at this from FengQing's POV. The last time they saw the crown prince, he was fighting with an overpowered ghost king completely obsessed with breaking (and ultimately owning) him. White No-face genuinely believed that he was doing XL a favor with his torture. That the downfall of Xianle was all for the greater good, and that he had plans for Xie Lian related to it all. Maybe they didn't realize it was so that XL could become the perfect protege, but the unhealthy obsession was apparent.

Fast forward to now.

Xie Lian is back. He's suffered from 800 years of destitution and humiliation. He speaks casually of unspeakable pain and torture, and suddenly there's this other overpowered ghost king that brought a reign of terror to the Heavens.

And that ghost king also seems to be around (and extremely affectionate with) the prince. Hua Cheng brought the same terror to Heavenly Officials that White No-Face brought to Xianle (by design as a punishment for Heaven looking the other way...) So here XL is, back, speaking about sleeping in the same bed as Hua Cheng with a shrug. Holding his hand and snuggling up to him. Looking desperate and pained any time they are separated.

And then? As they're trekking up Tong'lu attempting to thwart a new ghost king's birth, they come across a cave full of beautifully carved statues of Xie Lian. From the God Pleasing Crown Prince to the fallen god to the drunken crying exile and finally... to the god suffering the effects of the Land of the Tender. To any but Hua Cheng and Xie Lian (and especially to Feng Xin and Mu Qing), this obsession looks dangerous. After all, was White No-face's obsession different? Maybe it wasn't, and suddenly both of them are asking the (valid) question, is this all happening again? Did Xie Lian truly get broken this time? Is he walking into the life of a kept man and sex slave of a depraved and evil ghost king who was about to achieve the pinnacle of his obsession?

So they acted the way that they thought they needed to, to get Xie Lian away from the threat. Because even after 800 years of ignoring their shame, their loyalty had never completely eroded away.

The difference between White No-face and Hua Cheng is night and day to pretty much anyone paying attention. But the thing is, FengQing didn't have the view that the readers had, didn't even have the view that Pei Ming and Shi Qingxuan had honestly. They didn't see the quiet moments where Xie Lian and Hua Cheng just basked in their little world. Didn't watch Xie Lian giggle at some joke that Hua Cheng told.

They didn't pay attention to Xie Lian, or to the fact that San Lang never tried to force Xie Lian into a mask (which WNF literally did). True, Xie Lian spent a ton of time trying to understand why Hua Cheng had chosen him, but he never so much as had his hackles raised when Hua Cheng was around.

Ironic that it made them strip Xie Lian of agency to "rescue" him.

By Tong'lu, Xie Lian was as obsessed and in love with Hua Cheng as vice versa. It meant the Cave of Ten Thousand Gods was a beautiful revelation. Ah, so this is why my perfect and beautiful and sexy and clever and best friend Ghost King chose me. And I feel so lucky that he did.

It's not something that Feng Xin or Mu Qing are equipped to understand yet. Because Xie Lian is no longer the naive ascended-too-early god pleasing prince. The hardships that he suffered in those intervening centuries made him stronger, instead of weaker.

By the time they finally defeated White No-face, and certainly in the year where Xie Lian waited, I think both of them finally had a good idea of the person he had become. I don't think either will ever be truly comfortable with Hua Cheng (which? fair. also, kinda deserved.), but they definitely can tell that Xie Lian is happy, and are happy for him in turn.

#hualian meta #hualian #tgcf meta #mu qing and feng xin kind of had a point #even though they were wrong #cave of ten thousand gods #tgcf #heaven official's blessing #xie lian #hua cheng

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baxterstockmanisthecenterfold · 2 months ago

Note

Thoughts on the Baxter being black or white discourse?

Funny you send this ask anon because I won't lie to you I was LITERALLY Planning on making this post on my own one day when I got the time to. But uhhhh looks like you just sped up that process so let's just get down to it then.

First starting with a history lesson. All starting and going way back to 1984 when Baxter was born. (Well. In our world at least. Cus in actual comic continuity he was born in 1948.)

After the first issue of TMNT was a success, Kevin Eastman & Peter Laird of course got to work making another comic so it can be an official series. And when you have a new hero or heroes, you gotta have more villains for them to fight. And that second big baddie happened to be Baxter.

We can see here in this image above us that during his designing phase, Baxter funny enough had 2 different designs. One white design & one Black one. Showing us that it actually would have been an either or decision with how he would have ended up as. But of course, the 2 men obviously settled on the black one

And for a good couple of years that's just how it always was. At least until the 87 cartoon came out & we were re-introduced to Baxter looking noticeably different..

Baxter in his first outside comic book appearance had been one of the first of many POC characters to have been whitewashed (those unaware, whitewashing is when a character of a certain ethnicity/race is portrayed or designed as a Caucasian). And the reason for this massive change is STILL, to this day is a bit of a mystery. Like you & many suspected, why not go up to Kevin & Peter themselves & ask them why this happened? Or if they even had a role in it? From every source I could find & the only answer I really got was that Kevin & Peter had no idea why they changed him either! BUT they actually didn't really mind or care because if we go back to Baxter's concept art, he was ALMOST Going to be white anyway so if anything the show just made their "what if" choice a reality. At the end of the day, they didn't really care & I don't blame them since Baxter's race wasn't really a key part of his character. But I'll get to that in a minute.

Another consistent answer or rumor I hear about this change is because the showrunners didn't want the risk of being labeled as "racist". Because Baxter's role in the first cartoon was simply a "Weak subservient henchman who constantly refers to his boss as "Master" ".

*winces teeth* yeaaaaa I can kinda see what they mean by that looking bad..

But hang on now, then what about Bebop?

Before his mutation, he was noticeably black & he was turned into a pig that's ordered around & takes tons of verbal & physical abuse from his master and even called him that once yet nobody's batted an eye about that??? (Plus said Master is Asian Soo)

Well my personal best guess on why Bebop is overlooked could be for the following reasons:

He's a mutant. Yes he started off as a human being. But for the rest of the entire series aside from 2 instances to my knowledge, he's a mutant warthog. And not exactly a brown one either.. So for people starting off watching TMNT, they probably have no idea he was human or even black for that matter.

Some people don't even know he's black! Again. I imagine most people's first introduction to him was from a random episode & they never saw what he looked like as a human. And it's not like his voice actor was convincing of being otherwise either. Barry Gordon is obviously not African-American nor did he sound like one like most modern non black voice actors. In fact Bebop's voice is far from it. As a black person who has grown up in multiple areas of NY. Including the bad parts where thugs like Bebop reside. I can say. I have never once met or even heard another black person talk or sound the way he does.

Oddly enough, Bebop has actually been whitewashed himself two times. In the Archie comics & even in one of his first action figures to which again I personally chalk this up to people just not knowing he was black

3. And finally last. Rocksteady. Bebop is just tweedleDee of TweedleDumb. Rocksteady is his just as stupid best friend & are rarely to almost never seen separated from each other. So he's given the same treatment as Bebop & written just as much the same. You can't really tell the difference between the two. Or I can't really since I don't know or care much about their 80s counterparts. They're pretty much the same character. Henchman/Comic relief goons not really meant to be taken or thought of that seriously. And it's because of these reasons why I think Bebop is pardoned from receiving racial backlash. He's just a funny mutant goon & like Baxter, being black's not really a big key part of his character. Which again. I'll get to.

Back to Baxter. Whether it was because of avoiding backlash, or because they wanted to give his mirage concept art a chance, or they just wanted to cash in on Back to the Future.

Baxter Stockman was now a white man & that was just the way it was for a VERY VERY long time.

In fact, I came across at least 5 80s & 90s kids that GENUINELY Thought Baxter was ALWAYS a white guy. The damage had already been done that severely until 2001 teased what would eventually be the 2003 series & Baxter had at long last returned to his true African-American roots.

And it's been the go-to norm ever since (with a few occasional slip ups)

But it's because of these slip ups that a little bit of controversy started regarding Baxter's race. Especially with the possibility of turning him white again in a random adaptation. Most people prefer it while others are strongly against it especially on account of the fact that TMNT completely lacks black characters to which, they are not wrong about. At all!

Aside from Baxter & Bebop. The only black characters in TMNT we had for the longest was Angel & Xever (He's Afro-Brazillian before you idiots come at me) & it's opened up a pretty collar tugging realization the only black characters in TMNT all seem to be bad guys. It's honestly no wonder why people want to make more original ones like Sunita from Rise & make April Black like said Rise & Mutant Mayhem. April herself actually falling into this similar category as Baxter because she's actually had a bounce back & forth from being black & white in the mirage comics. (But I am not going to get into that because that whole thing is honestly ITS OWN Very confusing can of worms that literally anybody else can cover if they want to)

From what I've seen & gathered, Baxter remaining black is a big deal for most people because it branches out the black diversity in the TMNT mythos & it's just a core part of his character. Which I'm finally going to get to.

The thing is... It's really not.

Yes Baxter Stockman is an African-American man. But. That's not ALL he is. He's a super genius, he's intimidating, he's only looking out for himself, he doesn't care how much stronger or powerful you may be than him, he'll find a way to take you out or use you for his own benefits. Any piece of technology in his hands equals horrible news! He's your textbook definition of an evil genius! He just HAPPENS to be black! It doesn't matter what color he is, Baxter Stockman will always be Baxter Stockman. I feel like he would have been the same character regardless if Kevin & Peter DID go with his white design way back in 1984! Realistically, what difference would it have made?

In every single adaptation that Baxter's appeared in, in every single story focused on him, where he himself is the main character: His race has never ONCE been brought up.

Not a SINGLE TIME has him being a black man affected his life, development or any other aspect of his livelihood. Of all 20 interactions that Baxter has appeared in. Not ONCE. did he ever bring up being black. Nor did somebody else bring up that he's black. Not a single time, has that ever been a focus or key part of his story. For the same reason why any other characters like him or not like him haven't. The same reason why Dr. Robotnik/Eggman being white isn't brought up or focused on, or why Medic (TF2) being German isn't focused on, or even Willem Viceroy iii (Randy Cunningham) being a black scientist himself isn't even touched on! Their races aren't their characters, it just happens to be a fact about them! And the same should go for Baxter! Especially when you take in & remember the fact that he was almost never gonna be black in the first place.

Now I'm not saying that you shouldn't care about him being black or white, or that him being black shouldn't matter to you. I know from experience that we see ourselves in some fictional characters, good guy or bad guy. Especially if they share the same skin color as you. I probably wouldn't have latched onto Baxter like I did if it wasn't for him reminding me of my then afro wearing, nerdy 12 year old self at the time, but I know he's more than just his race & that's what I do want the fans to see when it comes to talking about him.

Now because I know I'll get this question either later on or in the comments of this post I will answer it beforehand.

Do I like Baxter better as a black person or a white person?

And to be completely & Brutally honest with all of you: . . . I genuinely don't mind either or. 🤷🏿‍♀️

I honest to God. Don't mind what Baxter looks like. I WILL admit, I do heavily prefer he be black. But if he happens to be white, then I don't mind it tbh. To me. When it comes to an adaptation of Baxter Stockman. The only thing that really matters to me is how he's written. As long as he's written well I don't mind or care at all what color he is. But again. I would prefer him black, still either or is fine by me.

What about you guys tho? I'm genuinely curious/interested about how YOU 🫵🏿 prefer he look like? Do you guys like him better being black? Or white? Can be any reason why. Could be cus you relate more, or you grew up with him being that way. Just as long as it's a reason. Be fun to discuss 🤗

#ask #anon #eli rambles #tmnt #1987 #2003 #2012 #idw #mirage #baxter stockman #bebop and rocksteady

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