#all questions I cannot remember the answer to

[i-am-countess-olivia]

This isn't some novel thought, but for me Fitzier begins in ep2, when Silna's father is brought onto Erebus

(a long-ish, GIF-heavy scene breakdown follows)

I won't cover the violations of Silna's beliefs, feelings and bodily autonomy happening here - they are of course terrible and very important. Instead, I want to focus on how this scene kicks off a new dynamic between Francis and James, how it lays a foundation for their subsequent closeness and how it changes our view of who James might be as a person.

Let’s begin.

Sir John and James arrive in the sick bay to join Stanley and Goodsir. Stanley says: "nope, not touching this one". Goodsir asks for leave to save the shaman's life. Franklin, already looking deeply disturbed by what's happening, hesitantly agrees.

Francis arrives. The operating table divides him from Franklin, Stanley and James — he is literally not on their side. All three men glare up at him as one. How is this maudlin MF going to make this horrible situation worse for us?

But Francis puts himself in charge. With a bit of help from McDonald, he takes hold of a distraught Silna and tries to explain what is happening, who they are, that they're not trying to harm. It is in this moment that James becomes the only one on the opposite side of the table to step forward (to help Francis control the situation or at least do something). He looks compelled to do it but cannot, in the end, land a hand.

Okay... so here we see that maybe this guy isn't just Franklin's poodle (we saw a bit of that earlier in the episode - more on that later).

Meanwhile Franklin, as soon as Francis takes control, BUGGERS OFF. Of course this can be justified by him already having given his orders and no longer needing to be involved, but we know that a) he sneaks off when the situation is clearly fraught and Francis is clearly better suited to handle it, knowing Inuktitut among other things and b) he actually ends up hiding out in his cabin, freaking out while listening to the howls of the dying man. This is too strange, too awful for him. Not to mention: oh god, I'm stuck in the ice, I've just lost a lieutenant, I keep losing men, what are they going to think of me?

While Sir John is off having a lil meltdown.... James' eyes are firmly on Francis.

We don't even see him acknowledge his captain's departure.

But why is James there? The obvious answer is: to report back to Sir John, to make sure things don't get weird and that Francis doesn't do anything stupid on THEIR ship. After all, let's remember the last scene before this one where James is focused on Francis:

Here he was describing Francis as if he's got him pegged: he's a disappointed man, Sir John, he was no one's first choice etc etc.

I know what he is. Do you now, James?

(interesting framing the above scene, btw - James standing, active, Sir John focused on his creature comfort, the pipe, and questioning himself. James speaking in firm tones to his commander: "I will not allow..." — James is literally being reframed as a leader.)

Anyway, back to where we were.

While Goodsir sets about trying to remove the shot, we get a little glimpse of James: he looks frozen, uneasy, swaying in to stare at the wound (Oh Tobias, the actor that you are). Can we say flashbacks to the Chinese sniper? This must be seriously triggering for him. Something is shifting.

(Another aside: James is standing next to Stanley, the man who dug out the shot when he was hit by the sniper. That same man is now refusing to help. Hm.)

Next, Goodsir says: I can't save this man. Here something important happens: James and Francis share a look.

This is Francis, for the first time, acknowledging not just James being in the bay at all — but that the two of them are in this moment together! Francis' eyes saying to James: I'm about to tell this woman her father is going to die and James acknowledging in return how awful that is. He presses his mouth, drops his eyes.

The little flash of connection doesn't last. When Silna starts to plead with her dying father, James once again reaches out across the table to Francis: what is she saying? But it's maybe too pushy, too "I need to be told what's going on" so Francis ignores him and it's McDonald who answers.

Next, Silna launches herself at her dying father. Here, once again, James tries to take an active role, to "help" by following Francis' cues on what to do.

James has been watching, learning, asking questions and now looks desperate to be part of the solution to this awful situation: to be in this with Francis. Look how similar their gestures are, how James looks to Francis for direction.

---

STOP - DOOM HAMMER TIME

The VERY first scene in which Francis and James become partners, take action together to keep something from happening, they effectively set in motion one of the biggest causes of their doom: Silna's father doesn't die as he should, Tuunbaq is not bound to anyone. Oh man. That's a whole other essay.

---

(Back to the scene....)

While they're wrestling with Silna, James, clearly emotional and upset by what is taking place, reaches out again, perhaps this time more sincerely: Look at me, Francis, I'm trying to help, at least tell me what's happening? This time Francis acknowledges him — actually SPEAKS to him for the first time.

In response, James looks particularly vulnerable and distraught.

Silna's father dies. We see how different James' reaction is to Francis'. Poor James. Maybe he wants a little bit more from Francis in that moment, one more shared look. Francis doesn't give it to him.

Aaaaaand here we are, it's almost over. Franklin swans in, the really bad, bloody stuff having already been dealt with. He re-asserts his command by giving an order to James to escort Silna off the ship. James… doesn't exactly spring into action. In fact, he doesn't even acknowledge the order verbally, unlike Stanley. What's going on in his head? What does he think about Francis in that moment?

Anyway, let's wrap up.

So much of this scene is about the shift in James’ perception of Francis. He suddenly sees a man who is hands-on, who can take charge, who doesn't walk away from a terrible and unusual situation, even when it's clear there's no good outcome. And of course he knows Sir John skipped off at first opportunity.

Francis, meanwhile, only briefly appears to acknowledge James —but only as far as we can see. Francis of course knows that James was there, that he stayed behind, that he tried to help, that he tried to understand.

This knowledge and this changed dynamic become apparent immediately, in the very next scene.

LOOK HOW THEY ARE FRAMED!!!

Sir John is already receding into the background. James and Francis sit — still opposite sides of a table but in essentially the same pose. They are partners, mirrors, leaning into each other. The few glances here, small as they are, are NOT at Sir John, but between James and Francis.

Anyway, here you go, that's me done. I fucking love this show.

[dock57]

[Shout out to Havoc for asking this question, because I never stop thinking about it since. Ever since Us & Them, at the end when Beebs stopped Us from apologizing, rubbing his neck going on to say "I've been there once or twice," has always got me wondering if or who Beebs may have lost in his life? This is the first time we get an indication that there is something that Beebs perhaps feels guilty for or regrets? Something that troubles his past. I think in a server we all discussed who could it be that Beebs may have lost?

I remember once thinking of a past lover, since it was also once asked if either Shrike or Beebs have been in a relationship. From this question I came across:

As always, the answers are vague (or unhinged and I love that) but it leaves you to wonder if this the one that Beebs may have lost? By episode three, so far we are not given much information of who that person might be that Beebs' has lost. Then again, perhaps it could mean something entirely different?

Then we have episode four, Plague Walkers. Episode four has given us an introduction, or revealing of Beebs' past. We gotten some bits and pieces to Shrike's lore, being possibly the last of his kind and being an ex LAW official enforcer. Beeb's lore has been a slow develop, and that's not something I have any issue with. I'm actually happy that the show is taking its time with pacing as that's something I miss from shows of today. So in episode four, we finally get a hint of where Beebs' come from. From the reactions, expressions, and how Beebs response to being with Ajax really shows how effected Beebs is by his past.

Something that comes up often between Ajax and Beebs' interactions is the mentioning of Beebs' parents. Now another suggested person that may have been lost to Beebs could have been his father. Before EP 4, I also thought that perhaps his father was the one he lost? I cannot remember an exact reason as to why, perhaps from the previews of EP 4 gave a suggested idea that it may have been Beebs' father when we first meet Ajax who also speaks as if "Barrack" house, his father, was once a great man- one with strong genes, of course.

But then we get to this scene, and judging from how Ajax speaks about Beeb's father here, it suggests that his father is still alive. How well? Who knows, but still alive, but perhaps not so "alive" in Beebs life.

When Ajax mentions that his father never recovered, gives me the impression that whatever happen between Beebs and his father, left not only a dent in their relationship, but also to Beeb's father as well as in he is still recovering from whatever traumatic experience that happen to the two of them. I would think it would be odd to say how he has never recovered for someone who could already be deceased. Because no one will ever recover from the dead...

So then I been thinking... What if its Beebs' mother?

I noticed that the one that tends to make Beebs' reaction the most is whenever Ajax mentions Beebs' mother. From the beginning of the episode, the mentioning of the mistakes made on the mothers side- that HIT Beebs there and center, but at the dinner as well? That comment from Ajax almost made Beebs lose his cool. I'm selecting now that Beebs' mother is the one he lost. I think Beebs had a closer bond to his mother, possibly the parent he related to more? Anything to do with his father, Beebs seems to show irritation or some form of stress when his name is mentioned. Such as when Beebs had to state which house he is from- being a Barrack- Beebs show no side of pride of having that name or being related to it. But his mother... when Ajax kept insulting his mother, that really seem to hit home for Beebs. The relationship that Beebs must have had with her... sharing perhaps how Beebs has almost like "runt" like traits to the family. The littlest one of the house. How it came from his mother side... There could be a good chance that what Beebs is holding regret for might be the lost of her, and maybe holds resentment to his father? Perhaps something that Beebs and his father got in an argument about? Or maybe an event occurred where Beebs or his father was responsible for her lost but neither of them can confront the truth?

At this point I am spit balling ideas. But until we get more lore on Beebs' past, I think his mother could have been the one he lost. Then again, this show has so far surprise me! But, its fun to try and think of theories. I'm not the best at it, but I like to wonder and analyze as well, I suppose!

Noticed I seem to ramble the most about Beebs- can you tell how much I love him? Enjoy one of my favorite screenshots of Beebs- Goodbye!]

[drdemonprince]

but you didn’t really answer the question which was not about dinner but why children cannot consent to sex if it is not a big deal to the body and mind. to use the metaphor, of course children can be harmed by in situations revolving around food but they also can enjoy dinner with family friends and strangers alike. the same is obviously not true of sex. why?

You're not being precise enough here when you say that "children cannot consent to sex." What you surely mean is that we have all agreed collectively that it is wrong for an adult to have sex with a child. Yes, I agree with you on that, I think that should be a societal rule, and the reason for that is power -- an adult wields entirely too much power over a child for the possibility of any sexual relationship between them to be anything but coercive and abusive every single time.

Adults have legal personhood, a vast reserve of life experiences, access to resources, physical strength, and developmental skills that make them wield huge amounts of power over children. That's how and why they can sexually abuse them so easily, and routinely do. Every sexual relationship between a child and an adult is inherently an abuse of this massive separation in power, and it should never be done -- a child cannot consent in these situations because they can never have enough power for their choice to be a free, informed, conscious choice.

Children do engage in masturbation all the time. Children even do engage in sexually exploratory play pretty regularly with other children -- this is highly stigmatized because sex is treated as this sinister and all-powerful activity distinct from the rest of life, exactly the problems we have been discussing, but the reality of most of these encounters are incredibly mundane and simple and boring. I remember "making out" with friends in elementary school out of pure curiosity about what the activity was, and classmates showing their bodies to one another with no harm being done. And certainly you are aware that teenagers have sex with one another all the time. These are expressions of body autonomy that people of a variety of ages engage in.

you can say that young people "cannot consent" to such experiences, but what do you mean when you say that? that it should be illegal? it isn't, at present, illegal for young teens to have sex with other young teens. Should it be? Is anyone protected by that? Already there are young people who have ended up on sex offender registries for sending nudes of their own bodies. Does that protect any person's body autonomy for us as a society to do that? should we be barging in on teens in their bedrooms to make sure they're never ever having sex or touching themselves? Do you think children lack the capacity to be curious about sex, or to engage in self-pleasure? What do you make of the fact that some kids very much do engage in those things? Do you think they should be pathologized? Told they dont have the right to touch their own bodies?

You've got to be really clear with yourself about these things, if you're going to hold that sex is a distinct, especially morally fraught category of human activities. So do tell me, what counts as sex, and what doesn't, and what should and shouldn't children be allowed to do with their own bodies?

[eddisfargo]

Not a Day Will Go By (13/14)

Well... I thought it had been over a year since I last updated, and I was feeling pretty bad about it. But apparently it's been... over two ??? I owe you all a huge apology, especially my giftee, @resident-of-storybrooke, and I will give you that apology! In the form of another 4K words, and a change from 12/? chapters to... 13/14. But wait! There's more! I already have most of the next chapter written! And it's the LAST, unless I split it, because it is lorge. Thank you so much for every comment y'all left. I didn't want to reply until I could reply with good news, but every time someone left a comment or a kudos, it gave me hope that there were still people who wanted to read this story, and set a writing fire under me. I cannot tell you how much each comment made my day! And thanks above all to @motherkatereloyshipper for immediately agreeing to beta again after all this time!! And once again for the gorgeous banner. Okay no further ado, hope you enjoy!

AO3 Ch 1 Ch 2 Ch 3 Ch 4 Ch 5 Ch 6 Ch 7 Ch 8 Ch 9 Ch 10 Ch 11 Ch 12 Ch 13

Fic summary: Captain Hook wakes up in a strange bed, next to a woman he does not remember. He finds nothing particularly unusual about this situation. But the woman seems to know him very well.

In Storybrooke, there’s only one surefire way to get back a lost memory. And it’s not going to work until he loves her.

Chapter summary: Hook confronts some things. And some people.

As the door of the shop loomed nearer, Hook’s nerves returned. Whatever Emma had said to the contrary, he needed to focus on finding a way to enact his revenge. At least his promise to do no murder today took some of the immediate pressure off. 

Emma turned to him, noticing that he’d paused. She gave him an encouraging smile. “Let’s go see if that knock on the head jogged any of his memories.” That got a reluctant smile out of him, and she waited another moment until he nodded before opening the door. 

At the chime of the shop’s bell, the Crocodile turned – expressly, it seemed, to sneer directly at Hook. “Oh good,” he said flatly. “They’re back.” 

“Anything?” Emma asked, addressing her question to the Queen. 

It was the Crocodile who answered. “Shockingly,” he drawled, “I don’t break under interrogation.” 

Hook glowered at the imp, who looked contemptuously back. Emma squeezed his hand once, and turned the full force of her attention to her adversary. 

“You’re right,” she said. 

Hook raised an eyebrow behind her, but she continued. 

“That’s not your MO, is it? So how about an incentive?” 

Eyes widening, Hook stepped towards her. “Emma…” he warned quietly. Even Regina was raising an eyebrow. Emma turned briefly back to face him… and winked. 

“Look, did you slip Killian a memory potion?”

“Precisely what agenda do you think I’d be furthering by–”

“Is that a no?”

The imp rolled his eyes. “Yes.” After a short pause, during which Hook weighed the ambiguous response, he deigned to clarify. “It’s a no.” 

“Good,” said Emma, seeming to take his word for it as if lying weren’t the little man’s bread and butter. “Then our interests align.” 

“Do they, indeed.” 

Emma raised her eyebrows. “Hook with no memories is kind of a loose cannon. Sneaking into your shop, scattering all your junk… chatting up your wife…” 

It took a startled moment for Hook to recall that she’d mentioned a new wife, and had not , in fact, been referring to Milah. He opened his mouth to protest that he’d never even met the woman, but the delay in comprehension had been long enough for Emma to meet his eyes significantly. So rather than speaking in his own defense, he gave the Dark One a malevolent grin. 

The Crocodile adjusted his hands on his cane. “Convincing me I’d rather be rid of your husband is a bold gambit, Miss Swan. Surely there are other ways I could accomplish that than by… helping.”

Hook bristled. Emma had said something about having kept her name, but surely she wasn’t a Miss . Also, the man seemed to be threatening his life, which, in retrospect, Hook supposed was more of a reason to take offense. 

Emma crossed her arms. “There are,” she agreed, showing no sign of concern, “but wouldn’t it be sad for little Gideon to grow up fatherless? Again?” 

Now who in the bloody hell was Gideon? Was Hook supposed to have a child too? He could make nothing of the “again,” but he had more than enough to start sweating. Surely, surely any spawn he might’ve sired would’ve come up in conversation before now. He wanted quite badly to ask, but he didn’t want to admit ignorance in front of enemies. He’d bring it up later.

“Don’t you think,” Regina broke in, sounding bored,  “that if threats were all it took, he’d have sung by now?” 

Emma sighed. “You’re right. Regina, are you sure he knows anything?”

“Positive. He usually keeps a stock of Oblex residue, but today it’s mysteriously out of stock. Someone must’ve bought it. If it had been stolen, I’m sure he’d have made you do something about it before now.” 

“What the hell is an Oblex?” Emma asked. 

“Something you don’t want to meet,” Hook answered, bloody overjoyed to finally, finally know something that Emma didn’t. 

Regina looked at him as if she’d forgotten he was in the room. The Crocodile looked as if he wished he could. He’d almost expected Emma to be surprised he knew something, but in fact, she looked expectant. Almost as if his actually possessing relevant knowledge was not unusual. Huh. 

He cleared his throat. “An oblex is a sort of sentient ooze. They’re clever little beasties. Had to fight one off years back, off the shores of the Sword Coast. Near lost the ship’s doctor.” He saw that he had, at the least, Emma’s undivided attention, and he didn’t much care for the others. “You don’t want to lose a fight with one of those. Nasty blighters will eat your –” He froze, and finished more quietly. “...Memories.” 

“And that’s why,” Regina concluded, “their residue is the primary ingredient in a forgetting potion. It’s not easy to get, which is why I’m pretty sure you’d notice if some went missing. ” 

“And if–for the sake of argument–I’d sold some…” the Crocodile began, oozing insincerity. “The ingredient is not only usable in forgetting potions. In fact, I recently heard that it can be combined with certain herbs to create a tea, to ease a troubled mind.” 

Emma raised her eyebrows at the Queen, awaiting confirmation. Regina looked skeptical. “Oh? And where did you hear that, I wonder?”

“Now that you mention it, I recall a strapping young gentleman who came into my shop some time past, looking to make such a tea for his ailing aunt, or great aunt–something to that effect.” 

“Oh?” Emma said, with thinly-veiled interest, as if they were each playing their parts in the conversation. “Did he find what he was looking for?”

“One never knows what one will find in my shop.” It was incredible how such relatively inoffensive words could still make you want to knock someone’s teeth out. Maybe it was just his voice. 

“And what would be the price of such a valuable ingredient?” Emma asked politely. “If you found it?”

“As it happened, the young man’s relation had a few recipes I did not already know–a rare thing indeed.” 

There was a short pause, as everyone in the room considered.

“If I were to ask you for the surveillance footage…” Emma attempted.

“I don’t keep it longer than a week.” 

“Of course,” Emma said, sounding unsurprised. “That would’ve been too easy. Well, what did he look like?” 

The imp shrugged. “Not especially notable.” 

“Anything you remember? Anything at all? Hair?” 

“He wore a hat, but I believe it was dark.” 

“Build?”

“I wasn’t selling him clothes.”

Evidently, he was determined to make her pry any piece of information out of him. 

“You called him a strapping young man. What does that mean, exactly? Muscular? Athletic? Bulky?” 

“I suppose. I really didn’t take any special notice.” Hook wondered if the man would take any special notice of a hook in his throat. 

“Any notable facial features?”

“He may possibly have had a larger than average chin.” 

“Okay… anything else?” 

“Not particularly,” he said flatly. “Well, that does seem to be all I can recall about any recent customers. Now, if you would kindly vacate the premises, I would very much like to close for the day. It seems my shop could do with some… reorganizing.” Without turning his head, he leveled a glare Hook’s way.  

Without conscious thought, Hook found himself looking at Emma to determine their course of action. She turned to him, seeming satisfied with the day’s work. She exchanged a glance with Regina, who nodded. And, without taking their leave of the shop’s owner, they left. 

Somehow, Hook didn’t notice until the shop was well behind them that his hand was in hers. 

They walked in a companionable silence until they were far enough from the shop that Hook could breathe freely again. Hook sorted through all the questions with which the interview had left him, and tried to decide what to ask about first. He wanted to ask about Gideon , but the dread of finding out who he might be–not a son, surely not a son–made it difficult to form the words. 

Finally, he made himself open his mouth. “Swan,” he blurted, with no clear idea what he’d say next. She blinked, as if he’d pulled her out of some intense concentration, but after a moment she turned to him with a smile.

“What’s up?” she asked, raising her eyebrows inquiringly. 

Who is Gideon? “Did we…” have a child? He cleared his throat. “...actually learn anything from that interview?” He held back a sigh. Coward . 

She grinned. “Enough to get started with. We have a profile on our potential perp. Maybe the great aunt is real, maybe she isn’t, but it’s a small town. And at least Gold’s condescended to narrow the playing field a little. If they’ve got ‘recipes’ Gold’s interested in, they’re probably not out-of-towners. And I have a kind of vague physical description, if he was being forthright about all of it. I’ve definitely got enough to search with. Finding people is…” Her smile was lovely, and behind her modesty, he could see some pride. “Kind of my thing.” All at once, Hook became aware that Emma was caressing the hand she was holding. “Want to come?” 

“I–think I have some business to attend to,” he said, perhaps less firmly than he’d intended. She looked a bit crestfallen, and he added, “Sorry, love,” before thinking to question why he was apologizing. He didn’t owe her a bloody apology for being busy. He searched his mind for a story she’d accept for what he was busy with that didn’t involve searching for a weapon against the Dark One. 

“OK,” she said, leaning in to give him a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll see you at home. Love you!” She hesitated before leaving, as if she was expecting something, but then smiled ruefully and walked away. It didn’t take much in the way of context to figure out what she’d been waiting for, once he gave it a moment’s thought. But surely she couldn’t expect it of him. 

He stood for a moment, watching her walk back to her brightly-covered conveyance. As he pulled his hand slowly from the cheek her lips had touched, he considered the fact that she had not, in fact, demanded his plans. The word trust flitted through his mind, leaving a feeling suspiciously like guilt. 

Well, there was nothing to be done. He had promised her no murders today, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t plan. As for the wager with the Queen, that was easily dealt with. If she rightfully owned the Jolly Roger, he could win it back the way a pirate usually won his booty. And what was one extra murder once the bet was lost?

He began to walk, allowing his feet to choose the direction–they hadn’t steered him wrong so far. He spent a pleasant moment picturing the look of surprise on Regina’s face just before his hook pierced her heart. He could see the rage turning into fear, as the man she erroneously believed was no threat came for his reckoning. And behind her, there stood Emma, eyes wide and full of tears–

A loud, dissonant noise brought him to his senses. He realized he’d stopped cold in the middle of the road, and one of those wheeled metal contraptions–a bug, had Emma called them? But this one was red, and rather larger than hers--stood behind him. He made eye contact with the person behind the glass at the front. It was a man he didn’t recognize–hardly shocking, at the moment–who threw his arms wide in a gesture of impatient disbelief. The man slammed his hand in front of him, and the awful noise repeated. 

Suddenly in quite a foul mood, Hook gave his most menacing scowl and approached the conveyance, raising his left arm to make his namesake conspicuous. As he reached the side door of the bug, less than a foot from the wide-eyed man inside, there was a loud squeal and the contraption sped away. Ahh, well. If he was going to lose the bet– when , rather–it would be for more significant reasons. A blond-haired face with a look of abject betrayal tried once more to encroach upon his imagination, but he pushed it roughly aside. He walked quickly out of the road, in no particular hurry to repeat the confrontation. 

He tried to keep his focus on what was most relevant–forming a plan. Kill the crocodile, and leave this strange place, with all of these strange people. Unfairly attractive people with soft hands. Children with Baelfire’s eyes. Complete strangers who smiled at him, like the woman across the street was doing now. How on earth she could be smiling at him despite the thunderous scowl he was–

Hook stopped to take stock of his face, to find that his scowl seemed to have abandoned him, in favor of an expression with which he was unfamiliar. His lips were turned up very slightly, but not in a smirk or a leer. And his eyes were half-closed, when they ought to have been wide open and paying attention to his bloody surroundings, because now the woman was pushing her covered cart towards him, and she looked familiar. Ahh, she was the woman he’d seen earlier, just outside of the cursed pawn shop . Except that she’d looked familiar then, too, hadn’t she? But no, her cheerful smile was not striking any chords in his mind now. 

Not only was she smiling, she was actually walking toward him. 

“Hello,” Hook said cautiously. He was dealing with an unknown quantity, and he wasn’t sure how to approach her. 

The moment he spoke, something began to strike the covering of the cart from the inside. He managed to keep from visibly startling, looking with a raised eyebrow from the cart to the woman. 

The stranger laughed. “He heard you!” She pushed back the covering on the cart, which folded as it seemed designed to do. 

From the violence of the striking, Hook had been half expecting some sort of small but fierce wild animal. What appeared, however, was a very human baby. And it was looking right at him. Its expression might charitably be called a smile, although its teeth were largely absent. 

The baby looked at the woman who was presumably its mother and had some sort of semi-verbal communication. 

“Down?” the woman said, in the tone of someone repeating what they’d heard, although to Hook’s ears the baby’s word had sounded more like “aaa!” 

Without further ado, she leaned down and set the baby loose. To Hook’s surprise, rather than toppling over immediately, it took some rather wobbly steps in his direction. He controlled the urge to back away. He was certainly not afraid of an infant–even one that seemed determined to barrel toward him. What on earth made him so nervous? It wasn’t as if the tiny thing could hurt him. On the contrary, it was so small it looked as if a rogue breeze might damage it irreparably. He gulped, reflexively moving his hook behind his back. 

“Iiiiihggh,” burbled the baby, whose strong apparent desire to continue its headfirst forward motion was beginning to lose the battle to gravity. Well, it was awfully close to the ground. 

“That’s right, darling!” the mother said encouragingly. “That’s Killian!” 

Hook started. He hadn’t been anticipating his given name from this woman. And despite what she might be pretending, the child had most certainly not said it first. 

Hook’s sudden movement was the last straw for the baby’s momentum.Killian watched in confused fascination as the little thing paused for just a moment, looking nonplussed, and then fell remarkably slowly to its bottom, where it bounced slightly. Whatever it was wearing, it clearly provided some padding. 

Hook wondered for a moment if the infant was going to start bawling, in which case he decided he’d find a reason to be elsewhere. And, indeed, the small face worked for a moment, appearing to consider the possibility. But it was distracted in the nick of time by something shining on the ground, which it examined for a moment before managing to grasp the item and beginning to bring it towards its mouth. 

“GIDEON, NO !” the woman shouted, startling Hook, who’d almost forgotten she was there. He looked quickly back at her, and in that moment, he recognized her face. It hadn’t meant much to him when she was smiling at him, but in her distress, it came back to him. 

A cell. An interrogation. A blow. 

He’d wanted to use her for information. She hadn’t known anything, so he’d… 

He caught himself grimacing, and then frowned at his own reaction. Well, and why shouldn’t he have struck her? She’d been of no use to him. But why had she looked at him just now as if… as if she was pleased to see him? Women hid their children from him. They certainly didn’t encourage those children to run to him, shouting an admittedly mangled attempt at his true name. 

The woman had picked the baby back up–he supposed it must be a lad, if its name was Gideon–and removed the shiny object from his hands, with what looked like a surprising amount of difficulty. Honestly, how much grip strength could those tiny hands possess? Still, she seemed to be struggling to keep the baby in one hand and hold the item out of his reach in another. He considered how he would accomplish such a feat with only the one. 

He shook away the ridiculous notion. When would he ever be called upon to hold a baby? 

The baby was crying in earnest now, and Killian racked his brains for an excuse to make a hasty retreat. He had just recalled the fact that he didn’t actually need an excuse–he was free to leave at any time, social niceties be damned–when he realized a few things in quick succession. The child’s name was Gideon. Gideon was not Emma’s child, much less his own. The relief of not being tied to her permanently… rather startlingly failed to materialize. He pushed the thought away quickly. 

So, Gideon belonged to this woman. As he pieced his memories of her together with what he’d heard this morning, her name came to him. 

“Belle,” he said, without really planning to. She had been precious to the Dark One. That was what he’d wanted from her. She’d been… his lover? The implications hit him like a cannonball. Suddenly, the wailing baby looked quite a bit less cute. 

Not that he’d thought it was cute in the first place.

Evidently, he’d been correct about her name, because she looked up from her game of keep-away with the squalling infant, as if remembering he was there. 

She smiled grimly, holding the baby’s treasure up a bit higher. “Old battery,” she informed him, her voice rueful. He thought for a moment that the battery to which she referred was his against her, however long ago that had been from her perspective, but she seemed to be looking at the object. She approached him. “Here, would you take this away?” 

Hook reached for it, not without curiosity. But as Belle drew nearer, Gideon switched his attention from the “battery” to him. He reached out his little hands, tears still glistening on his round cheeks. 

Belle laughed. “Well, that works too,” she said, foisting the baby directly into Hook’s arms. His mind sounded an alarm. Something in his brain shouted Hook!! It took him a moment to connect this to the source of his suddenly faster heartbeat. He quickly adjusted himself so that the baby and the hook were as far apart as possible. He’d expected this to take some serious effort–especially since he’d never held a baby in his life. But almost without conscious thought, he’d adjusted his grip so that his hook was pointed down, his shortened arm supporting the baby’s body, with his hand gripping its back. 

The bloody madwoman didn’t even look concerned. She’d walked off to dispose of the battery without a second glance. 

Uncertain what to do with himself, Hook looked down at the baby’s face. Surely there would be some evidence of malignance, if the Crocodile truly had sired him. 

The baby gave him a mostly-toothless smile. He looked fully human, if nothing else. Perhaps Belle had been less than faithful to her scaly lover. Heaven knew better women than her had done the same. Hook squinted at the little eyes, trying to discern a resemblance to his old enemy. When the spark of recognition hit him, it was not as he had expected. Bae . 

He had always credited Baelfire with his mother’s eyes. And indeed, he recalled more vividly than he would’ve credited, the color had been all too reminiscent of his lost love. But in this child’s eyes–this child, with no direct connection to dear Milah–he saw the shape of Bae’s. There was only one possible source of any similarity between Baelfire and this child–his half-brother?--but that loathsome resemblance, Killian could not see, no matter how he searched. 

“Thanks for watching him,” a voice said from right in front of him. Hook startled, but did not drop the baby. Nor did he accidentally puncture his hide, which was a danger you’d think a mother would’ve been cognizant of. How had he not seen Belle return? Had he been so lost in his thoughts? 

Belle was grinning at him. “You’re so good with him,” she said, with the air of someone who is repeating an observation.

“Ahh,” Hook said awkwardly, uncertain what to do with this bit of flagrant misjudgement. 

“Aaaaaaaah,” gurgled Gideon, contributing just as much to the conversation. 

There was a moment of silence as the baby looked lazily from one of them to the other, drooling slightly. 

“Well, it’s almost too late for Christmas shopping, so we’d best be on our way,” said Belle finally, sounding oddly amused. “That is, if you’re willing to part with him?” 

Hook felt his face heat. Had he really been so distracted he’d forgotten to return the thing to its mother? It wasn’t as if he wanted to be holding him. He’d simply lost track of time somehow. He’d rarely seen a person so young this close. It was oddly fascinating–in a horrifying sort of way. 

As Belle reached for her child, he misjudged her grip and began to let go too soon. He reflexively tried to catch him with both arms, jerking the pointed one away at the last moment and throwing his good hand under him.

Gideon giggled delightedly, and even Belle permitted herself a breathless chuckle once the lad was safely in her arms, obviously more aware than her son of what had almost happened. The barrage of kisses she pressed to his tiny, laughing face were her only concession to the moment of panic. 

She cradled the baby to her with one arm, waving goodbye with every appearance of good cheer, as Killian waited for his heart to stop hammering. He continued his interrupted walk, and tried to remember what thought he’d been in the middle of. Ahh, yes, revenge against the Crocodile. 

It must have been a half a mile later when it occurred to him–far too late–that the perfect opportunity for revenge had just been utterly squandered. That child was–presumably– his son. Why hadn’t he–why hadn’t it even occurred to him to–bloody hell, he’d gone out of his way to avoid–

His unquestioned fear of accidentally damaging the child now seemed quite preposterous. He could have simply gutted him like a fish. 

The thought of gutting a fish made him oddly nauseated. He frowned. He hadn’t tired of fish in centuries at sea. Now seemed a strange time to start. This bloody town was getting to him, somehow. Making him into a landlubber. Making him soft . Making him into the man Emma seemed to think she knew. 

What he needed was a night on the Jolly. Alone . What he needed was to get her ready to leave. 

He made it the rest of the way to the docks unmolested. There was a moment where he thought he saw a red hat exiting a warehouse, but it vanished before he could be certain. 

Once aboard his ship, he took inventory. He would need to top up his rations, although there was a small supply of cans with pictures of food on them–those uncannily lifelike pictures common to this realm. Perhaps he could make it to the next port, if nothing else. Surely he could acquire food there, legitimately or not. He’d noticed with unease that the longer he stayed in this town, the less he recognized himself. 

Hook had nearly finished taking stock of his supplies when he nearly tripped over his feet. He froze. After centuries, he knew every inch of the Jolly Roger. There had never before been a loose floorboard in his quarters. 

Closer scrutiny confirmed what his feet had uncovered. There was a small space under one of the boards making up his floor. And underneath… 

He stared, trying to think through the implications. It seemed his future self had not been so innocent, after all. The man had been keeping secrets from his lovely wife. Perhaps he hadn’t changed as much as Emma had convinced him–as much as she’d truly seemed to believe. Perhaps he had already begun the plan now taking shape inside Hook’s head. 

Hidden on the Jolly, where no one but him could ever have found it, was a bottle of squid ink.

--------------------

Tagging the same folks as last time, hope it's still welcome! Adding the "please tag for everything" crew. Let me know if you want to be added or removed for the last chapter!

@undercaffinatednightmarere, @jrob644, @kmomof4, @winterbaby89, @mie779, @elfiola, @tiganasummertree, @anmylica, @booksteaandtoomuchtv, @everything-person, @teamhook, @laianely, @booksteaandtoomuchtv, @exhaustedpirate, @anmylica, @hollyethecurious, @Gingerchangeling, @caught-in-the-filter, @ultraluckycatnd, @Stahlop, @LFH1226, @darkshadow7, @fleurdepetite, @captainswan-kellie, @motherkatereloyshipper, @sonnicat, @Jrob64, @beckettj, @whimsicallyenchantedrose, @jonesfandomfanatic, @myfearless-love

For any fellow stats nerds, this chapter was 4K words, about twice as long as the average chapter so far. And I have (drumroll) almost another 8K written. I just need to tie together all the scenes I have! Might split it if there's a good splitting place, or I might post it all at once. I'm pretty pleased with how it's turning out, aside from all the [insert words here]-type stuff in the middle.

[moonlightreal]

How can we help?

I dunno about y’all but I’m very keen to live in a world where LJ Smith has some good things happen to her for a change, and we get to read Strange Fate. So is there anything we can do to make those things happen?

First, Strange Fate.

The only thing I can think to do is spread the word. Post on your socials, drop the news into the off topic channel of any remotely bookish discords you may be in. “Anybody read these books back when? The author reappeared!” Tell random YA readers you know. There are a bunch of people who liked the Night World books but haven’t thought of them in years, and a bunch of people who remember them and do the Strange Fate deepdive periodically, and those are the people who’d like to know that things are moving again.

I just wish we knew how fast things were moving! Spreading the word is a bit suboptimal when the word is, “Strange Fate is coming… sometime in the next few years, really this time!” But still, folks will want to know. Alas, fan enthusiasm cannot grease the slow wheels of publishing!

I think there will be a time for telling the publisher how very excited we are, but I’m not sure that time is yet. And if things don’t work out with publishers, there may be a time when we can kick in to a Kickstarter, but that time is also not yet.

Second, Ms. Smith.

This lady fought her way through some serious slings and arrows of outrageous fortune to finish the book we want to read. She deserves some good stuff to happen in her life and we can deliver some of that good stuff!

Ms. Smith would like to have action on the website. Importantly: emails do not go directly to Ms. Smith, she has her “staff writer” Jesa who seems to be both assistant and friend handling correspondence. Which is good! Dealing with a whole entire fanbase of delighted but very impatient people might be a bit too much for Ms. Smith who is still having medical issues, she needs a buffer and I’m really glad she has one. So say nice things to Jesa!

-Send questions for Ask LJ. I tried to think of questions that I really am curious about, that would also be fun for Ms. Smith to answer. One was what kind of anime she’s into, and I'm super curious to know if we have the same taste.

-Send fun stories. Did anything really wacky ever happen because you’re a Night World fan? Ever had a funny conversation with another fan in the wild? Did you roleplay or cosplay as your favorite character? This series has been part of our lives for ages—probably not a super big part, I mean there’s lots of fandoms, but if you’re here now it’s been a part for a long time.

-Send fanart. Jesa reports that Ms. Smith loves to see fanart! Also while I know we all have lots of opinions on AI pictures, Ms. Smith likes them and if you can wrangle a prompt to make a scene from one of the books she’d probably get a kick out of it. Or if you can draw, think of it as giving her some better art!

-Do not send fanfiction or story ideas. This is a bummer for those of us who happen to have the written word as our medium, but there are tangled legal and copyright things that make it VERY BAD for official authors to read any fanwork of their own stories. Ms. Smith wants to interact with her fans, so we need to make sure we’re fans who are safe to interact with!

And be nice, and be patient.

[kybercrystals94]

The Defender (ch.7)

Febuwhump 2025 | Day 7 | Prompt: Alternate Timeline Self

Read here on Ao3

<< Previous Chapter | Master Post | Next Chapter >>

Rated: G | Words: 1311

Character Ages

Omega (8)

The Batch (Chronological: 4.5 / Biological: 9)

OMEGA

“Is he going to be alright?” Omega asks. 

She resists the urge to fuss at the hem of her tunic, though her fingers itch to be busy, to do something. Something to help Crosshair, something to assure their anxious brothers. She knows they do not trust Nala Se. 

And she knows why. 

“Concussions are a common injury in the environment the clones are cultivated in,” Nala Se says, not looking away from the scans she has been studying for the past hour. Omega wishes she understood the images of her brother's brain the way Nala Se did, the contrasts of dark and light on some, the bursts of startling colors on others. “My concern is where CT-9904 was injured.”

“Why?”  

Nala Se turns her head to regard Omega. 

Omega swallows, but holds her ground, keeps her chin raised. She hopes she appears merely curious – not defiant, or, worse, invested. Omega was already frustrated with herself for her behavior when Crosshair first arrived in Nala Se’s lab, confused and afraid. He had mistook her for Hunter, and she had let him believe it. She thought Nala Se would approve of her method of calming the patient. 

She had not. 

“I’m just asking,” Omega continues carefully, “because that is what medical assistants are supposed to do. Ask questions.”

“Hmmm.” Nala Se turns away. “The answer to your question is for another time, Omega. I must focus. Go, attend to your studies.” 

Omega hesitates, biting back another insistent question. But when Nala Se has made up her mind, she will not be swayed. So Omega goes, only not to her studies. She walks out of Nala Se’s office and slips into the room where Crosshair is being monitored. The space is cluttered with familiar medical equipment that has surrounded Omega all of her life. 

Seeing them now, surrounding her brother, makes Omega want to cry. 

He shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t be hurt like this. She had been so focused on Hunter that she had not thought to check on their brothers. She could have done something to protect him too. Set off an alarm in the hall to make someone from maintenance come to the scene. It might have even scared off the cadets before they’d gotten a chance to hurt him at all. 

Omega approaches the medical cot slowly, on quiet, light footsteps. Crosshair is sedated. She knows she cannot wake him; and yet, she instinctively falls into the habits she’d had not to wake her brothers when they were babies, what feels like a lifetime ago. Nala Se had told her that interrupting their sleep cycles would damage them. Omega took the warning very seriously. She never wanted to be responsible for something so awful, so unthinkable. 

But here is Crosshair now, damaged. 

And here is Omega, feeling dreadfully responsible. 

“Crosshair,” Omega whispers. 

He does not respond. The only movement is the steady rise and fall of his chest, the only sound his resting breaths. She expected as much, knew as much, but she is still disappointed. 

Another step forward, and Omega is close enough to reach out and take his hand. 

She never thought she’d be this close to her brothers again. 

Glancing back at the door, Omega inhales a shuddering breath. She wraps her hand around Crosshair’s, squeezing it softly. “I’m here, Crosshair,” she says. “I know you don’t remember me, but I’m your sister, Omega.” 

The confession, said aloud to unhearing ears, is safe, Omega thinks. An invisible weight lifted. 

Omega smiles. 

“Do you want to hear a story?” she asks.

The Crosshair Omega has been watching through security feeds would probably scoff and say no; however, the Crosshair Omega had held in her lap many years ago, the little white haired child called Oh-four, would have absolutely said yes.

So, Omega tells him a story.  

CROSSHAIR

When Crosshair wakes up, he is alone. He stares at the ceiling above him, the lights dimmed to a sleep cycle setting. He feels groggy, his mind thick and slow. Curling the fingers of his right hand, he is surprised that it is empty. Someone had been holding it, he thinks, and the warmth of their gentle grasp lingers. 

He misses it. 

I’m here, Crosshair.

Crosshair turns his head to look where the voice had been, where the voice now wasn’t. 

Memories lurk like shadows, undefined and faceless, at the edges of his mind. He wants to chase them, to force them into the light, to see them for what they are, but they slip away before his clumsy thoughts can catch them. 

“You are awake.” 

Any peace Crosshair had felt evaporates at the familiar, even voice. The jolt of fear that takes its place brings with it sharp, terrible clarity. The cadets that had been after Hunter, the fight, the white hot pain of his head striking the wall. Hunter holding his hand. Hunter comforting him. 

Nala Se steps into his view. “Recite your CT number.” 

Crosshair blinks, moves to prop himself up on his elbows, and forces himself to focus. “Nine,” he rasps, but his throat is parched and scratchy from disuse. He swallows and tries again. “Nine, nine, zero, four.” 

“Are you able to recite the CT numbers of your three batchmates?” 

…when the five of us were together…

Crosshair nods, and rattles off the CT numbers belonging to his brothers. 

“Are you capable of walking, CT-9904?” Nala Se asks. 

Moving sounds like the last thing Crosshair wants to do, but if it means the possibility of getting out of this room, out of this lab, out of Nala Se’s sight, he is willing to try. “Yes, ma’am.” 

“A medical droid will accompany you back to your barracks,” Nala Se says. “It will remain in your barracks until you finish your recovery. Am I understood?” 

Crosshair bristles. “Does it have to?” 

Nala Se pins him with a look that he refuses to wilt under, holding her gaze glare for glare.

“I said,” Nala Se says, “am I understood.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Crosshair grits out. 

Nala Se turns and leaves the room and a medical droid whirls in. 

…he taught me how to follow you everywhere…all through the city…

Crosshair winces, reaching up to prod his fingers against the lump on his head. 

“You should not do that,” the droid says. 

Crosshair scowls. “What’s it to you?” 

“I have been tasked with your care,” the droid tells him. 

“You’ve been tasked with spying on us,” Crosshair hisses, sitting up slowly. 

The droid hovers close to him as he slides off the medical cot to the floor. The solid surface beneath his boots sways unpredictably, and Crosshair grips the cot to keep from falling. 

“Do you require assistance?” the droid asks. 

“No,” Crosshair says, pushing the droid away when it gets too close. 

“Your brothers are worried about you,” the droid says. 

…our brothers are worried about you…

…I told them you’re going to be okay…

Crosshair has never heard a medical droid refer to clones as brothers. Or tell a clone anything personal for that matter. What did a droid care if clones were worried about another clone? 

…he helped me find you…

…AZ…

“Are you experiencing confusion?” the droid asks. “I will notify–”

“No!” Crosshair cries. He sucks in a breath, looking warily at the door, hoping his outburst wasn’t overheard. “Just…just take me back to my barracks. I’m fine.”

He is relieved when the kriffing droid believes him. 

Before he steps into the lift, having reluctantly allowed the droid to steady him, Crosshair glances down the halls once more. It had felt real, this other life…the one the voice spoke of. 

The voice…not Hunter…

“Omega,” Crosshair breathes. 

But it must have been a dream. 

It had to be. 

They could never have had a sister. 

Crosshair tries to shake the thoughts away, but they persistently hold fast. 

Up next...

Prompt: Blowtorch

Let me know if you'd like to be added to my prompt list!

Prompt List: @arctrooper69 @groguandthebadbatch @ezras-left-thumb @maeashryver @baddest-batchers @laughhardrunfastbekindsblog @omegafett99 @heidnspeak @fionas-frenzy @dreamsight73 @royallykt @blackseafoam @skellymom @griffedeloup

[cielenruine]

"They got along well enough...but that is neither here nor there." He takes a breath and he feels the controversial statement on his tongue and tempers it. "My apologies then, but he is still someone you consider a great deal." A great deal was underselling it. The shift had caught him off guard. The air in the greenhouse seemed like it ran cold before returning to the warmth it was meant to carry. A warmth he quickly allowed to return back to that unsettling feeling. "There was a task we were given during the last week. The questionnaire we all took, we were made to find the answers that most agreed on." He was paraphrasing for the sake of time. His eyes had locked onto her and were intent to not let go. "So you would have been in that sample size." He remembered the interaction clear as day. A lone ray of hope within a group far too complacent with the state of things. "There was a question them, ironic in hindsight now. 'Would you turn your back on others to protect those at your side' it was." The dirt in his palms was twisted about and left to fall, covering the stone they stood on. "Alear was with us." "'It's one thing when it's a bunch of games'." A tone and face that told of a struggle unknown to him but a feeling he was all too familiar with. "In the end, we all concluded that people would be selfish. It was only them and theirs and Alear...I cannot-will not speak- for what he felt then, but it was difficult to face him after deciding that people were worse than he had seemingly perceived." He still found it difficult even now. The aftermath and then the candy game had been fine, but he wondered if he could ever meet such burning belief without cynicism anymore. "He wouldn't want you to bear these things alone." Even after saying he wouldn't- Alear had maintained that such a quiz wasn't the end, that event those who had voted 'yes' might change, or already had changed to those would would say no. "If you hate hearing me speak for him on such a matter then just tell him yourself and I'll gladly accept whatever reprimand for misunderstanding him."

seeds of hope in soil of blood || yunaka & matthias *restoration

[birdmenmanga]

huh... okay... economically magi actually has a pretty coherent story... I was just unable to comprehend it when I was in middle school...

[bisupergirl]

what would you say were the most in-character cwsg kara moments? (also, do you think it was any more faithful before it moved to the cw?)

prefacing this by saying that I hardly remember like 90% of anything that happened in that show (and what I do remember is mainly from seasons 1 and 4), but off the top of my head here are some in-character (imo) cbs/cw!kara moments:

i've talked about this one a couple times, but that scene from the very first episode where Kara angrily confronts Cat after she names her SuperGIRL has a really great start:

Kara: "Supergirl"? We can't name her that! [...] It's just, uh... I don't want to minimize the importance of this. A female superhero. Shouldn't she be called "Superwoman"? [...] If we call her "Supergirl", something less than what she is, doesn't that make us guilty of being anti-feminist?

because she's right! she's literally right. and yelling at her boss (and other figures of authority) because they've done something that she strongly morally disagrees with is something that comic!Kara loves doing. this scene started out so nicely but immediately fizzles out once Kara backs down when Cat goes on her dumb "what's wrong with being a girl? i'm a girl!" speech and has to be bailed out by Jimmy so she doesn't get fired. comic!Kara would've kept the energy throughout the entire argument and either quit or gotten fired right there. and she would've told Cat to drop dead (her favorite thing to tell her bosses).

another moment I really liked is from 1x06 when she's venting to Jimmy:

Kara: Growing up on Earth, I never felt normal. And I always thought that if I started to use my powers, my life would make sense. But I'm realizing that... being myself doesn't make me feel more normal. And it never will. Because my normal life ended the second my parents put me on that ship. And that makes me so mad.

yep, that's Kara alright ! it really is so fundamental to Kara's character that she can never really be "normal" again. she can begin a new (and fulfilling!) life, but the version of her that lived on Krypton—the girl who got into trouble with her friends, who loved learning about her peoples history, who bounced her baby cousin on her knee, who shared her passions of art and science with her father and mother—is gone! she can carve out a new version of "normal" for herself on Earth, but that girl who woke up everyday and lived on Krypton is gone—and that haunts her!

and of course you have the classic and much beloved scene from 1x08 where Kara screams at her mother's hologram when she finds out Alura used her to draw her aunt Astra out of hiding and arrest her:

Kara: Could she have saved us? Alura: She was a criminal. Kara: But was she right? Alura: I am not programmed to give you that information. Kara: Tell me! [...] You let everyone that I love die! You left me! You left me alone! You sent me away! How could you do that?

and then this exchange between her and Alex:

Kara: She lied to me. Alex: Kara, that wasn't your mom. You don't know what happened then. Only what Astra is telling you now. Kara: I know that Astra and I were both given life sentences by my mother. We didn't have a choice.

Kara having a complex relationship with her mother and overall feeling deeply alone and abandoned by her parents is so important to me and very important to her character. this scene really fits in perfectly with that post I made a while ago that compiles the different instances across continuities where Kara admits to wishing she had stayed on Argo City instead of being sent to Earth alone. she's really the loneliest and most tragic character in the world !

okay and one last scene (well. multiple scenes) from season 1 that I really enjoy is from 1x16 where Kara gets infected by red kryptonite. I truly believe that the first 10-ish minutes after Kara gets infected is the closest cbs/cw supergirl ever got to capturing pre-crisis Kara's energy:

Cat: Oh, and look at that. A reward. Somebody gifted me tickets for Club Apocalypse for Friday night to see a Scandinavian DJ whose name I won't even try to pronounce. Kara: Thank you. I'll put them to good use. Siobhan: Do you even know how to dance? Kara: Don't be jealous. Or do, I don't really care.

K'hund: Your mother— Kara: Sentenced you to Fort Rozz, blah, blah, ruined your life, I've heard the story. You wanna fight about it?

Kara: Hi, Siobhan! Siobhan: What do you want? Stalker. Kara: Messenger downstairs wants you to sign for Ms. Grant's flowers. Siobhan: Okay, you do it. Kara: Well I would but Ms. Grant needs me to proof a column for her ASAP. I'm sure one day she'll give you more editorial responsibilities too.

Kara [to Siobhan after she gets fired]: Well, I guess that's your exit. [...] Well, that was awkward. But not surprising, though. She was a bad seed, it was only a matter of time.

the Kara / Siobhan catco scenes in particular really remind me of pre-crisis Linda Danvers / Nasty Luthor and the workplace feud that they had back in adventure comics. one of the biggest failings of cbs/cw Kara is that she's not enough of a dick. comic!Kara can be an asshole sometimes! she's catty! she's not above having a stupid feud with a coworker that she hates! she can be somewhat of a dick and also be kind and compassionate, they're not mutually exclusive.

moving on! (and skipping anything from seasons 2 and 3 because it's been literal years since I watched them) fast forward to season 4, I liked the scene in 4x08 where the US President fired Kara from the DEO for not revealing her secret identity:

Kara: If I did that, sir, everyone I know, everyone I love would be at risk. President Baker: My family is with the Secret Service as we speak. You think they're not in danger? No one should be above the rest of us. We need to put country first. Kara: I'm sorry, sir. I can't give you what you want. President Baker: Then, I thank you for your service, but you're dismissed, effective immediately. I hope you'll comply. The United States does not want a war with Supergirl. Kara: Then I trust you won't start one.

FINALLY Kara gets fired from one of her jobs, it's about damn time ! but seriously Kara standing her ground in this matter, especially when the President is trying to make it look as if she's selfish and thinks she's above or better than him or anyone she protects ("MY family's with the Secret Service!! NO ONE is above the rest of us!! you're putting YOURSELF before the country!!"), is VERY comic!Kara. she knows he's full of shit and she won't be guilt tripped into doing something she's not comfortable doing, even when it's a direct order from the US President. and I especially love the "then I trust you won't start one" at the end of their conversation. get his ass.

there's definitely other moments throughout the show that give comic!Kara to me, but alas, I don't remember any. I loved anytime she was onscreen with Nia though, so take that as you will.

as for the second part of your question, I don't think the show was any more or less faithful to her comics when it switched networks. however, just in terms of Kara's personality, I think she actually somewhat improved once the show moved to the CW. I just find the overly bubbly, "adorkable", "golden retriever" type of personality they gave her in the first season to be SO grating, and I felt that she mellowed out once the network switched. as the show went on Kara matured and grew more of a spine, which is more accurate to the Kara I love from the comics.

imo the first season did a good job when it came to touching on Kara's connection to Krypton and letting her feel complex emotions about her past, but I think it's disappointing in every other aspect. they majorly declawed her and they centered Superman in a really annoying way by constantly comparing her to him and just mentioning him unnecessarily (not to mention changing Kara's character to be more like him and giving Clark HER villains (yes i'm still mad about the show's version of Reactron)). make no mistake, CW Supergirl is not perfect by any stretch of the imagination, but they let her be more of an established and confident hero. obviously that's just like. character development. but even so, when you compare season 1 to Kara's early career in the comics, it's just like. kind of insulting ! 15 year old, incredibly traumatized comic!Kara was doing a better job at being Supergirl than 24 year old show!Kara. just a shame!

[musical-chick-13]

I hate when something looks like it would be RIGHT up your alley and the cast is pretty stacked, but there's one person in said cast who is just. Genuinely a horrible human being.

[skipblebee]

Thinking about ATLWCS again reminds me of when I was 13 and read this book for the first time and there was no fandom so to cope with the ending I made an au where Frederick, Werner and Marie-Laure were all friends living in the present day

[isneezelikeamouse]

I really feel like there’s an interesting way to tie demonism to wh but not in the “THESE PUPPETS ARE LITERALLY DEMONS” way but in the “unfounded satanic panic” way

[gibbearish]

I am an egg

What is the egg for

I mean I agree that on the spectrum of gender I am plausibly definitely an egg that just feels about right. I'm just there man. Sitting around until needed. In my zone, in my lane, just serving my purpose like an egg.

But I'm still curious about the egg title I've been bestowed

generally in trans circles an "egg" refers to a trans person who hasn't realized they're trans yet, so then realizing is "the egg cracking"

functionally in the quiz it's kind of a "your answers mostly pointed towards cisish but not always" / middle of the road placeholder. honestly the results part is kind of the main bit im not entirely happy with because i have no idea how to actually weight answers properly lol

[misterghostfrog]

I need to remind everyone getting mad at people clicking buttons on polls not aimed at them or wanting see results buttons on polls that tumblr only lets you know the poll is over so you can see the results if you voted in it and there's no neat way to save a poll to see results otherwise, curiosity is not a crime and a Tumblr poll is not a consistent method of data collection no matter how rude you are telling people not to vote in the description.

[la-cocotte-de-paris]

What is/are your favorite historical tv series ?

Salut ! :)

Ooooh, I am terrible at keeping tabs of which tv shows i've seen, but here are some (some I've watched in full; others I've only seen some of but enjoyed) :

The Great (it's definitely reimagined but it's so much fun; certainly appreciate the wit)

Die Kaiserin (SOOOOO BAD and SOOOOO INACCURATE but SOOOOOO ADDICTIVE :P It was written and set up in such a way that you would want to binge-watch it AND I'M ANNOYED I BUY INTO IT. Also I am a sucker for Sisi, no matter what...even though she would likely hate this series. The acting is good though.)

Ohmygod DERRY GIRLS is listed as a period tv show but it was only set in the 90s 😭😭😭 But I adore that show!

Au service de la France (it's so silly but it's so funny :P)

La Révolution (a total reconstruction of history, but I thought it was an interesting premise... Except I thought the "disease" the aristocrats had was vampirism, but apparently it was a zombie virus?? Which makes it seem far less interesting on paper imo. Anyway I think it would have made more sense if it was vampirism - a more apt metaphor for how the aristocracy screwed everyone else over and sucked the country dry BUT OKAY WHATEVER)

Peaky Blinders

The Serpent

I just KNOW I have forgotten some very obvious series, but this is from what I remember! 😅

send me "what's your favorite.." asks 💫

[keeps-ache]

ohh i do Not like my hair being wet ouhrrr