#also scene breaks are a pain to format

[brionysea]

i do like my little 2-4 chapter wips, i'm not gonna lie

[crustyfloor]

My night was going so wonderfully.

The headshot of this cover is just PAINFUL. They're actually acknowledging each other, they're the only ones on a cover to do that. And it's the prominent detail that Mizi looks horrified staring at Sua, even though they're clutching each other so... like they can't let go, while Sua looks reverent in the lane of that gaze, even blushing, slightly, savoring the moment. This also looks like their kiss scene...

To me, she looks just the same as the day she died because I think this cover is Sua's haunting of Mizi, because Sua's singing is just that, haunting and distant the longer she sings, she's fading out, but so gently despite its gruesomeness. And Mizi is grieving.

She's as angelic as she is in Mizi's memories..

But there's a cruelty to this because Mizi will never forget what she saw in round 1, that's why seeing Sua over and over and over again terrifies her, hence why the tone of this song is SO dark, especially in the second half when they're coming to a close, they get desperate to keep each other close, and there is a certain, but familiar ignorance to Sua's presence as if she can't see Mizi's pain even though Mizi is crying right in front of her--childish egos, Sua becomes a more honest character after her death, and in more expressive formats like this, and I like how she takes on that position in this song, the taker. (Like Till, he wanted a security blanket out of Mizi; Sua is similar in that sense.) as she takes and wants from Mizi for her own sanity.

And this newest illustration, oh my god. EXPRESSES THIS IDEA PERFECTLY, Sua looks so utterly distant, ghostly, dead.

In contrast to Ivan and Till's cure, Mizi and Sua's cure is more of a duet, and they switch places often. Mizi starts the song, she ends the song (just like in my clematis), and Sua supports it. Whereas Ivan and Till take turns leading and harmonizing, Mizi and Sua both participate.

And I believe they're interacting? Ivan and Till's cure wasn't a message to each other, something a lot more complicated than that--but Mizi and Sua transition frequently and it feels like they're singing to each other, It's more intimate.

Mizi - Allow me, to the tips of your finger

Allow me, to the ends of your feet

Dissolve me in your gaze

I don't want to let you go.

Sua - Please, leave me scars

Please, hurt me so that not a singly drop of me remains

Let me drown in you.

(The backing vocals mean so much to me, it's like a choir(?))

Mizi - Until these falling stars

Are buried in the blur of time

On your icy lips

Read my soul, yes, my soul

It wasn't spontaneous for the sake of it either, because this is a call-and-response

Sua - Even if your cold words

Carve scars beneath my eyes

May they linger on your tongue

You can break me apart

Mizi - Notice my pain

And mend me right now

To quiet my fears

I'll drown in you

-

Mizi is directly asking Sua, or the version of her she can't forget, to stay with her, calm her like she used to, as she wishes to have remained in the dark, to drown in her, or to have just not been left alone and, because even now Sua's death is not something she can accept, the portrayal of her feelings as she expresses her pain and desire to keep Sua close, even the false presence of her "On your icy lips" and "notice my pain and mend me right now" even though It's terrifying her, she doesn't want to let go.

Sua acknowledges Mizi's pain, and their shared pains after she died for her, the blame and the betrayal. Interestingly, Sua takes on the metaphorically self-destructive lyrics, Sua lives in fear, anxiety, and utter gloominess, she didn't want to be hurt by Mizi in the literal sense, but she would've rather been warmed in Mizi's soft light, her false hope and optimism, to be destroyed and to destroy Mizi's hope, even dying as the penalty of their love was far better.

Then Sua goes on to sing through the perspective of Mizi and her loneliness and grief after losing her with perfect clarity, it takes me back to the comic where Ivan scolded Sua about her plan, saying that she'd be nothing more than a trauma to Mizi after everything is said and done, she got upset at Ivan because she knew that, was devastated by the fact that she would be a burden just as she always feared, but then, what's a life without Mizi by her side, her only safety net? Her every reason for living?

This song displays their deep love and devotion, they sound melancholic but even in these horrific circumstances, Mizi's pain and hesitance, they don't drown each other out, they move together in perfect harmony just like they always do, in this way, it also feels like an apology of sorts from both sides before the bitter end, and a final goodbye.

AND THEN AT THE END WITH THE PERFECT SYNCHRONIZING OF THEIR VOICES ARGHH

And a new Sua illustration for the occasion 😭💔 (I'm gonna catch you soon Vivinos just wait.)

[hayatheauthor]

Everything You Need To Know About Writing Bruises 

Welcome to the latest instalment in my ongoing series on crafting realistic wounds in fiction. After delving into stab wounds, burns, and gunshot wounds, we're turning our attention to another crucial element in bringing your characters and their stories to life: bruises.

Bruises are possibly the most common miswritten injury in fiction. As tempting as it might be to make the protagonist's skin bruise when the morally grey characters clutches her wrist, scenes like this only serve to ruin immersion and make your readers wonder whether this could realistically happen. 

Unlike the other wound types I've covered in this series, the internet doesn't seem to have a lot of writing advice for bruises. So, here's my comprehensive guide to writing bruises. 

Types of Bruises

Understanding Bruise Formation:

Bruises are a common occurrence in everyday life, from the accidental bump into a table corner to the aftermath of an intense sporting event. But before we dive into the art of crafting realistic bruises in your writing, let's start by understanding how bruises form.

Bruises, also known as contusions, result from the rupture of blood vessels beneath the skin's surface, typically veins and capillaries. When these vessels break, blood leaks into the surrounding tissue. The body's natural response to this injury is to initiate the healing process, causing inflammation and discolouration.

Differentiating Types of Bruises:

Not all bruises are created equal. Understanding the various types of bruises will help you describe them accurately in your writing. Here, we'll explore the common distinctions among bruise types.

Contusions: Contusions are the most typical type of bruises. They often occur due to blunt force or trauma, resulting in pain and discolouration.

Subcutaneous Bruises: These are the most typical bruises resulting from blunt force trauma. Subcutaneous bruises appear as dark, discoloured areas under the skin and can change in colour as they heal, starting with red or purple and transitioning to green, yellow, and eventually fading away.

Hematoma: A hematoma is a more severe type of bruise caused by the collection of blood outside of blood vessels. Hematomas often appear as a raised lump under the skin and can take longer to heal.

Petechiae: Petechiae are tiny, red or purple pinpoint spots that can form when small blood vessels near the skin's surface break. These are often a sign of more severe underlying medical conditions.

Ecchymosis: Ecchymosis is a large bruise that covers a wider area, typically caused by substantial trauma or medical conditions. These bruises tend to be darker and may require more time to heal.

Tattoo Bruises: Sometimes, an object's pattern or texture may leave a distinct mark, resembling a tattoo. These can occur when someone is subjected to direct pressure from an object with an intricate or textured surface.

These distinctions will enable you to convey the type of bruise accurately in your storytelling, reflecting the nature and severity of the injury your character has endured. So, when crafting a scene in which your character sustains a bruise, you can choose the type that best suits your narrative.

Causes of Bruises:

Bruises can occur for various reasons, and knowing these causes will help you craft believable narratives. It's important to note that not every physical interaction results in a bruise, and your characters shouldn't bruise from actions that typically don't lead to bruising. For instance, someone holding another person's arm tightly is unlikely to cause a bruise.

Common Causes of Bruises:

Blunt Force: The most common cause of bruises is blunt force trauma. This can occur from falls, accidents, or impacts, such as bumping into furniture or being struck by an object.

Pinching or Squeezing: Intense pinching or squeezing, especially on delicate skin areas, can lead to bruises. For example, if a character pinches their arm or thigh too hard in frustration, a bruise may develop.

Repetitive Motion: Overusing or repeatedly striking a particular area, like through strenuous exercise or certain work activities, can cause tiny blood vessels to rupture and lead to bruising.

Medical Conditions: Some medical conditions, like blood disorders or certain medications, can make a person more prone to bruising.

Ageing: As skin becomes thinner and more fragile with age, it's more susceptible to bruising even from minor bumps or impacts.

It's crucial to consider the appropriateness of a bruise in your story. Understanding when and how a character can realistically develop a bruise will help maintain the credibility of your narrative.

Characteristics of Bruises:

Accurately depicting bruises in your writing involves considering various characteristics, such as:

Colour Changes: Bruises typically undergo a series of colour changes during the healing process. They usually start with shades of red, purple, or blue due to the initial bleeding under the skin. As the bruise heals, it can turn green, yellow, or brown before fading entirely. These colour shifts can be an essential detail when describing the progression of a character's injuries.

Size and Shape: The size and shape of a bruise depend on the impact's force and the underlying blood vessels' distribution. Bruises can be small, like a fingertip mark, or large, covering a significant portion of the body. Irregularly shaped bruises may indicate multiple impacts or trauma.

Tenderness and Swelling: A fresh bruise is often tender to the touch, and the area around it may be swollen. Describing your characters' reactions to this tenderness and swelling can make the injuries feel more lifelike.

Pain and Discomfort: Bruises can be painful, and the level of pain may vary depending on their size and location. Detailing your character's pain and discomfort can enhance the realism of your narrative.

Itching and Healing: As a bruise heals, it may become itchy. This can be an interesting detail to add, showing the progress of the injury and your character's recovery.

Duration: Mention the duration of a bruise. Some may heal relatively quickly, while others can linger for weeks. Knowing how long a character's bruise lasts can impact their daily life and the story's timeline.

Factors Affecting Bruise Appearance and Healing:

Bruises aren't one-size-fits-all injuries. Their appearance and healing process can vary based on several factors:

Location: Bruises can look different depending on where they occur on the body. For instance, a bruise on a bony area, like the shin, might appear more pronounced compared to a bruise on a fleshier part, like the thigh.

Age and Health: The age and overall health of your character play a significant role. Younger, healthier characters may heal faster and have bruises that change colour and fade more quickly. Conversely, older characters or those with health issues might have bruises that take longer to heal.

The severity of the Injury: The force and severity of the impact determine the size, shape, and colours of the bruise. Consider whether the injury was caused by a minor bump, a hard fall, or a violent struggle.

Character's Skin Tone: The appearance of a bruise can be affected by the character's skin tone. It might be more challenging to spot a bruise on darker skin, and the colours may appear differently.

Treatment and First Aid: The way a character treats a bruise can affect its healing. Mention how characters apply ice, warmth, or topical remedies to their bruises.

Character's Pain Tolerance: Some characters may have a higher pain tolerance and can bear a bruise without much discomfort, while others might find even a small bruise painful.

Clothing and Cover-Up: Characters may conceal bruises with clothing or makeup. This can impact how they are perceived by others.

By understanding these factors, you can tailor your descriptions to create a more authentic portrayal of bruises in your writing.

Healing Process of Bruises:

A key element in writing realistic bruises is depicting their healing process. Here's how to effectively describe it:

Gradual Changes: Highlight the evolving nature of the bruise over time. The progression of colours—red to blue, green, and yellow—is a visual cue that indicates the bruise's age. This chronological shift in colour offers readers insights into the passage of time within your narrative.

Concealment and Exposure: Address the issue of concealing or revealing the bruise. Depending on its location, characters may need to don concealing clothing, apply makeup, or use other means to hide or reveal their injuries. Such choices can significantly impact the character's interactions and relationships.

Medical Care: Mention whether the character seeks medical attention for their bruise. Medical professionals can provide insights into the severity of the injury and the potential complications that might arise during the healing process. Additionally, you can explore any treatments, remedies, or advice offered by healthcare providers.

Impact on the Character: Describe how the presence of a bruise affects the character's daily life, activities, and interactions with others. A prominent facial bruise, for instance, can influence the character's self-esteem, social interactions, or how they are perceived by those around them. Emotions and psychological effects should not be overlooked.

Varied Healing Timelines: Recognize that the healing process can vary from one character to another. Factors such as age, overall health, and the severity of the injury can affect how quickly the bruise fades. This variation can add depth and authenticity to your character's experiences.

Scarring and Discoloration: Note that severe injuries may leave lasting scars or discolouration on the skin. Explore any permanent marks or changes that remain after the bruise has healed.

By incorporating these aspects into your narrative, you can create a nuanced portrayal of the healing process of bruises and its impact on your characters.

I hope this blog on Everything You Need To Know About Writing Bruises will help you in your writing journey. Be sure to comment any tips of your own to help your fellow authors prosper, and follow my blog for new blog updates every Monday and Thursday.  

Looking For More Writing Tips And Tricks? 

Are you an author looking for writing tips and tricks to better your manuscript? Or do you want to learn about how to get a literary agent, get published and properly market your book? Consider checking out the rest of Haya’s book blog where I post writing and publishing tips for authors every Monday and Thursday! And don’t forget to head over to my TikTok and Instagram profiles @hayatheauthor to learn more about my WIP and writing journey! 

[entishramblings]

The Innocence of Brutality Pt. 9 [Legolas/Reader]

A.N:  I want to especially thank @tiny-and-witchy for giving me such motivation to write this chapter. Your messages of encouragement were so helpful. Also, this chapter is very....interesting. I wanted to focus on character development and the development of learning behavior in a new world. Additionally, as this story follows the events of the lotr films, I didn't want it to be entirely too repetitive. We have all seen the movies and I personally find myself getting irked when I read and re-read the same scene over and over...hence why I wrote certain scenes certain ways. but fret not, there are plenty of things that I included in this chapter that are not a part of the films heh!

Request: none

Pairing: Legolas X Fem!Reader

Summary: The Reader is Rámaitë Mahtar, a warrior spirit race, and she meets the fellowship on their quest to destroy the ring.  

Disclaimer: Any mythology relating to the Rámaitë Mahtar is not canon as I made up Rámaitë Mahtar. Also, all elvish was translated from a translator site—it may not be accurate.

Word Count: 5.6k

Warnings: mentions of war, mentions of torture, violence, fluff, hurt/comfort, blood, injuries, gore, nudity, things get spicy, discussion of sex 🌶️

MASTERLIST | AO3 | WATTPAD | The Innocence of Brutality Masterlist | HERE for OC format

(Y/N) sat still upon a large rock, her eyes fixated on Boromir’s motionless form, as Aragorn and Gimli prepared his funeral boat. Her wings, once radiating power, were now punctured and bloody, Legolas tending to them with care. Still, the pain that rippled among each feather was nothing compared to the suffering and hopelessness in her heart.

The silence among the four was profound, each absorbed in their own grief. Aragorn's face was painted with stoic sorrow, his hands moving with gentle precision as he placed flowers around Boromir's body. Gimli, usually gruff and unyielding, worked the same task with a rare tenderness, his eyes showcasing the break of his heart. With each blossom they laid upon Boromir's chest, a silent tear slipped from (Y/N)’s eyes, running down her cheek and falling to the earth as she once had. The forest, who bore witness to Boromir’s bravery, seemed to mourn beside them—for the trees rustled peacefully, creating a soft song for the Gondorian.

“It is time,” Aragorn spoke softly.

Slowly, (Y/N) stood, her injured wings slipping from Legolas’ healing hands. She approached the boat that now cradled her companion. The Rámaite Mahtar reached for his cold hand. With immense care, she gently unfolded his fingers, confirming that her opal rested inside his loose grip. Blinking back tears, as little rainbows reflected upon the pale skin of his palm, she closed his fist once more.

“Goodbye,” she whispered. 

With a solemn unity, the group pushed the boat into the water, their hearts heavy with grief and reverence. They watched it float away, carrying their fallen comrade to the halls of the gods, praising his bravery and sacrifice. 

In that profound moment, they forged an unbreakable resolve to save Merry and Pippin. They would not let their friends perish to the evil of the Uruk-hai. Therefore, with fierce determination, they embarked on a relentless race across Arda.

As their feet pounded into the soil across the plains, (Y/N) tried to conceal her struggle. Her punctured wings, open and unable to fly and resistant to motion, held her back. The relentless wind battered against them, intensifying her pain and forcing her to push harder than the others, stealing her energy. It seemed to howl in laughter at her suffering. It mocked her. No longer would she let the wind's whispers taunt her. Therefore, despite her injuries, she folded her wings into her form, leaving no feather upon her back, only smooth skin. 

Legolas sent her a look of concern as they ran but she only shook her head and said two words: “The wind.”

He seemed to understand, but kept a careful eye on her as they sprinted. 

Despite this concern, it appeared to be a good thing that she hid away her wings because, only hours after, the group was standing in a circle of men who were high upon their horses with spears drawn and aimed. Legolas assumed that, if they saw her wings, those spears would be through their bodies, for often men fear what they don’t understand. 

The elf was quick to push the Rámaite Mahtar behind him, into the center of the tight, small circle Aragorn, Gimli, and himself formed.

The leader, seemingly so, approached them. “What business does an elf, man, dwarf, and woman have in the Riddermark? Speak quickly.”

Gimli was the one to snip back a snarky reply, “Give me your name, horsemaster, and I shall give you mine.”

The man dismounted, a sneer upon his face as he moved closer towards the dwarf. “I would cut off your head dwarf, if it stood but a little higher from the ground.”

Drawing his bow Legolas replied forcefully, “You would die before your first stroke fell.”

Aragorn was quick to push down his arm, interrupting the interaction. “I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn, this is Gimli son of Gloin, and Legolas son of Thranduil.”

The man contemplated the Ranger’s words for a moment, before he dipped his head towards the final member in their group who had not been introduced. “And the woman?” 

The Rámaite Mahtar stood straight, confident, and strong. 

“(Y/N),” she replied simply. 

He inched closer, a frown upon his brow. “Do you choose to be in the company of these men, Miss, or is it under force?” 

She tilted her head, not understanding what he was trying to imply. Her subtle anxiety, slipping her hand into Legolas’, did not go unnoticed by the Rider. 

With her action, he seemed to relax. Nodding towards their folded hands he spoke again. “I apologize, Lady, I did not realize you were the wife of the elf.”

(Y/N)’s brows crinkled in confusion, not entirely sure of the meaning behind the word “wife.” The other three hunters did not dare try to correct the Rider’s assumption for it could initiate a conversation of (Y/N)’s origins—which is something they knew shouldn't be shared. 

Aragorn cleared his throat. “We are friends of Rohan and Théoden, your king.” 

“Théoden no longer recognizes friend from foe,” he gruffed in reply. Taking off his helmet, the spears of his men retreating, he spoke again. “Not even his own kin. Saruman has poisoned the mind of the king and claimed lordship over his lands. 

(Y/N)’s lips parted as a small whisper of recognition left her lips, no other besides Legolas noticing. “The Man of Saru.” 

The rider continued. “My company are those loyal to Rohan and, for that, we were banished.” He then stepped forward, his demeanor changing, showcasing pent up anger and hidden fear. “The white wizard is cunning. He walks here and there, they say. There’s an old man, hooded and cloaked. And everywhere his spies slip past our nets.”

“We are no spies,” Aragorn interjected. “We track a party of Urk-hai westward through the plain. They have taken two of our friends captive.”

“The Urks are destroyed,” he replied. “We slaughtered them during the night.” 

Gimli, his voice wavering, spilled out anxious words, “There were two hobbits! Did ya see two hobbits with ‘em?”

“They would be small, only children to your eyes,” Aragorn added, almost desperately. 

The man paused, solemn. “We left none alive. We piled the carcasses and burned them. I am sorry.” 

The air then changed, transforming the once-refreshing breeze into a suffocating, oppressive force. Thick and heavy it felt, marked by grief and confusion. No longer did it hold hope or whispers of encouragement, only despair. 

(Y/N) glanced between her friends and the horsemen as she processed what the rider’s words meant. She watched as her fellow companions’ faces contorted and twisted, unsureness and shock upon them.

The Rámaite Mahtar’s lips quivered as she blinked back tears. With a breaking voice she spoke again. “No, b-but no. N-not again.” A sob escaped her throat as she desperately whipped her head around to look at her friends for a different answer. “N-not the hobbits.” 

“(Y/N),” Legolas said.

Another loud sob reverberated through her chest, echoing among the air.

“(Y/N),” the Elven Prince repeated, his voice tinged with urgency as he grabbed her and pulled her into his body. Her form practically slammed into his with such a force of sadness, almost knocking the breath out of him. She immediately buried her head in his chest, inhaling deeply as the familiar scent of pine and honey filled her nostrils. Desperately, she clung to him, trying to find solace in the comforting aroma as she struggled to breathe through her heartbreak.

Seeing this desperate sorrow, the Rider whistled, bringing two horses forward. “May these horses bear you a better fortune than their former masters.” Mounting his steed, he added to his statement, “Look for your friends, but do not trust a hope. It is forsaken in these lands.” He then turned to his men, calling out an order. “We ride north!”

With that, the four hunters stood, numb and confused, allowing the feelings to sink in further. 

Eventually, they pulled away from each other. Their bodies moved through motions their minds did not command with urgency, resigned to the belief that their friends were dead and they were only going to retrieve their bodies.

As if in a trance, they mounted their new steeds and took off toward the pile of carcasses, dread gnawing at their hearts as they anticipated the remnants of the flames—and their friends. Each hoofbeat echoed their apprehension, the stench of charred, decaying flesh growing stronger with every step. The eerie atmosphere was marked by the distant crackling of dying embers, reminding them of the devastation they were about to face.

It was then a haze of despair, hope, promise, and relief—an internal turmoil of change.

As they found the hobbits’ small belts, (Y/N)’s throat turned raw from her cries of despair.

As they found the little ones’ tracks, (Y/N)’s lips quivered and her hands shook with hope.

As they found the wizard in the flesh, new and whole, (Y/N)’s heart skipped with promise.

As they found the knowledge of the peace and prosperity of their friends, (Y/N)’s breath steadied and relief ran through her veins. 

There then was direction—purpose—as they rode to Rohan. 

….

The remaining members of the fellowship, reborn and filled with renewed hope, rode through the town of Rohan. Despite the wind, the air felt stale and eerie, as if it were sick and diseased. The townspeople fared no better; they appeared worn and weary, their gazes filled with suspicion as they watched the group trot by. Their eyes lingered on the group’s strangeness, noting the many races and the woman with piercing eyes.

“Why do they stare?” (Y/N) asked.

Legolas, one hand on the reins and the other around the waist of the Rámaite Mahtar seated in front of him, replied softly, “They have lived in misery for too long, never seeing anyone but each other.

“You’d find more cheer in a graveyard,” Gimli gruffed out, earning a look from Aragorn.

When they approached the halls of Théoden, they dismounted and were greeted with that same suspicion. “We cannot allow you before King Théoden so armed, Gandalf Greyham, by order of Grima Wormtounge,” the soldier stated.

Reluctantly, the men began to disarm, (Y/N)’s curious gaze filtering over this action. As her friends handed over their weapons—having to take extra time to disarm Gimli, for the dwarf had hidden quite a few—the men of Rohan’s lingering eyes filtered over the Rámaite Mahtar’s still form.

“And the woman?” the soldier stated.

(Y/N) frowned, tilting her head.

It was Aragorn that spoke. “You believe this woman holds weapons?”

The fellowships’ eyes shifted. She was the weapon.

“I apologize,” he stated, clearing his throat. “I was ordered to confirm every member of your party was disarmed.”

He then turned to Gandalf, “Your staff.”

“Oh, you wouldn’t deprive an old man from his walking stick, would you?” he retorted innocently. 

At this, (Y/N) raised a brow. 

The man huffed, but stepped aside, leading them through the vast doors. 

As they stepped upon the stone, Legolas sent a side eyed look at (Y/N). “Don’t kill anyone,” he whispered. “Only incapacitate them.”

(Y/N) frowned. 

While Gandalf addressed Théoden, a pale and slimy man, Grima, whispered into the King’s ear—likely spilling lies and manipulation. The men of Rohan cautiously crept around the fellowship as they approached; Grima confronted them in the center of the room. It took only a brief exchange between the ghastly man and Gandalf before Grima ordered his men to swarm the fellowship; however, they defended themselves swiftly. One soldier went to (Y/N) directly, likely thinking to take her hostage in his arms and use her as leverage; but, oh, how wrong he was to assume he could. (Y/N) grabbed his bicep and, with a quick motion, flipped him hard onto the ground. Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli immobilized the others, allowing Gandalf the opportunity to pull the poison from King Théoden’s mind. 

All watched in stillness and nervous anticipation as Théoden spoke, his voice carrying the tone of another. Gandalf, his face etched with determination, used his staff to push the King’s body backward and pull Saruman’s poison from Théoden’s mind. Though it took only moments, it felt like hours until they saw the years melt away from Théoden's face, the lines of age and weariness vanishing. It was as if new life was being breathed back into him, Saruman's evil influence violently yanked from his very soul.

A young woman, her face pale with worry but her cheeks burning with renewed hope, rushed to his side to provide aid and comfort. Her hands trembled slightly as she reached out to touch the newly revived king’s cheeks.

“I know your face. Éowyn.” 

A large smile blossomed upon her lips as she wrapped her arms around her uncle. 

Those around them appeared visibly relieved as well, for the King of Rohan, now revitalized, was eager to restore glory and prosperity to his halls.

….

(Y/N) stood in a large bedroom in Rohan. Sunlight flooded through the open windows, casting a warm, golden glow across the room. The gentle breeze coaxed the cream-colored curtains into a graceful dance, while the scent of fresh grass, wildflowers, and the faint aroma of earthy soil and distant smoke wafted in, enveloping the room in a comforting embrace. Yet, to (Y/N), it still felt empty.

"But why?" she asked Éowyn again. "Why can I not be with the others?"

"Lady (Y/N), it is not proper for a woman to stay in a room full of men during the hours of night," Éowyn explained.

“But why?” (Y/N) persisted. 

The Lady of Rohan sighed, retrieving an elegant dress from a large cupboard on the far wall and draping it over a vast wood-carved mirror. "That's simply not our way of life here. I understand it may differ from where you come from." She paused, then inquired, "Where exactly is that?"

(Y/N) simply shrugged. “Far.”

“I see,” Éowyn responded, sensing (Y/N)'s reluctance to share further. Changing the subject, she continued, “Let’s get you out of those travel clothes, shall we? A bath, perhaps? Then this lovely dress and some food. I do make quite a good stew.”

The Rámaite Mahtar huffed but followed the woman into the adjoining bathing room. At the sight of the steaming basin, (Y/N)’s face lit up, for she seemed to take joy in the comforts of water. She quickly pulled off her leather breastplate, followed by her tunic, indifferent to Éowyn's presence. Quite frankly, she still was not accustomed to Arda's perception of nakedness.

Éowyn started to avert her gaze but halted when (Y/N)’s back came into view.

The Lady of Rohan gasped, horror written across her face. “(Y/N)! You’re back–it’s–it’s entirely bruised!” She rushed forward, her gentle hands extending along the woman’s spine. “This–this could be internal bleeding,” she whispered, more so to herself, with worry.

With that, she rushed towards the hall, hollering for a healer, before returning to (Y/N). “Come, come sit,” she ushered, guiding (Y/N) towards the edge of the bed and pulling a folded blanket up to cover the woman’s chest. “A healer will be here in just a moment. Don’t you worry. You will be taken care of. You will be just fine.”

The Rámaite Mahtar frowned, standing up despite Éowyn‘s fretting. She walked towards the mirror, taking the blanket with her. She twisted and turned until the bruising came to her sight. Her lips parted, for she wasn't expecting such a thing. 

It was at that moment that the healer arrived. 

“By Eru—” he whispered, seeing (Y/N)’s back. 

Quickly placing his bag on the bed, he approached her. Extending his hand, he was met with a fierce snarl from (Y/N), causing him to immediately withdraw.

“Lady,” he began cautiously, “I understand you must be in pain, but please know that I am here to help you.” The healer reached out again.

She snapped at him. “Do not touch me!”

“Lady,” he insisted, his fingers extending once more.

(Y/N) spun towards him, one hand clutching the blanket to her chest, the other reaching toward his throat. Her fingers closed around his neck, lifting him up.

Éowyn shrieked in alarm, taken aback by (Y/N)'s sudden aggression.

“(Y/N)!” a deep voice called from the doorway. 

She turned at the familiar voice of Aragorn.

“Release the healer,” he commanded firmly. 

Her intense gaze met his sincere gray eyes,  and she immediately complied, trusting his judgment in this unfamiliar world.

Aragorn nodded at her, a silent understanding passing between them. He then addressed the servants who had gathered, “Please, get the elf,” he stated. One of them ran off at his word.

He approached (Y/N) with no unease. The trust they held as travel companions was evident to Éowyn. “May I take a look, (Y/N)?”

She nodded, turning her back towards him.

Gently, he examined the bruising upon her form. Tracing her spine lightly, he spoke, “Does this hurt?”

She shook her head. “No,”

He continued to run his hand further up her back. She remained stoic until he gently grazed the spot between her spine and shoulder blades—where her wings would normally have protruded. Only then did she wince.

At that moment, Legolas appeared in the doorway. “It’s her wings,” he stated plainly. 

(Y/N) and the elf locked eyes in the mirror. 

He approached her, taking Aragorn’s place. “(Y/N),” he said with a nod, indicating to her that it was safe to extend her wings. 

With that, she slowly began to unfurl her wings from her back, each movement causing her to wince as they stretched out. Dried blood and greenish goo clung to each circular wound where arrows had mercilessly pierced her moments before Boromir’s death. As she extended them fully, her wings spanned at least half the length of the room, their impressive size and the remnants of battle obvious.

Gasps were heard from those in the room who knew not what or who she was. 

Unfazed, Legolas moved to examine her wings. “The wounds must have become infected when you folded them in.”

“They were getting in the way,” she retorted. 

“I know, Starlight. I am not blaming you,” he reassured softly. “I can treat the infection, but they must remain free while they heal.”

“Alright,” she agreed. 

The Prince of Greenwood then took to the healer’s bag, not bothering to ask the man gaping at the Rámaite Mahtar. He was quick to sort through the herbs and other supplies to obtain what he needed. He dipped his head towards (Y/N) before motioning to the bed. 

She obliged to his nonverbal request and sat upon it, her injured and infected wings stretching wide. 

Legolas began gently cleaning the wounds. 

Aragorn, on the other hand, moved towards the healer. “Your assistance is no longer required.” With a nod towards the door, he ushered the healer and the curious eyes of the servants out of the room.

He then turned to Eowyn, who was still fixated on the Rámaite Mahtar. Her soft lips were parted and her eyes were wide with curiosity. Unwavering they were...until she sensed his gaze.

“I apologize, Lady of Rohan, but you too must leave,” Aragorn stated gently.

Éowyn nodded in understanding, gracefully making her way towards the door. Just as she was about to slip through, she glanced back at Aragorn. “What is she?”

Aragorn inhaled through his nose before responding with two simple words. “Rámaite Mahtar.”

With that, he closed the wooden door, its hinges creaking softly. Leaning against the wall, he watched as Legolas tended to (Y/N)’s wounds. He stood guard at the door, for he knew that news of the winged woman they had brought into King Théoden’s walls would soon spread.

….

The following morning, a small group convened in the mess hall to discuss the future and the whispers of the 'disturbance' echoing through the halls. Present were King Théoden, his guards, Éowyn, Gandalf, Aragorn, Gimli, Legolas, and (Y/N).

(Y/N) was keen on wandering along the room, her partially wrapped wings dragging lightly upon the floor. 

In a hushed whisper, mostly laced with curiosity and concern, Théoden spoke, “But what is she?”

With arms crossed, Aragorn replied, “She is a Rámaite Mahtar. 'Winged Warrior' in the common tongue. The Valar created them to cleanse the land that came before us.”

The King of Rohan’s brows furrowed. “So, she is not human, nor elvish.” 

Aragorn nodded in confirmation. 

“Is she—“ Éowyn started, “Is she dangerous?”

Aragorn’s eyes shifted, unsure what to say. 

It was Gandalf who answered. “Yes, probably the second most dangerous force currently existing on our plane.”

“And the first?” She asked. 

“Sauron,” Gandalf replied, his tone laced with trepidation. 

“By Eru,” Gimli gruffed. “Ya make it sound like the lassie is gonna be the next thing to get us! Fret not, Lady, lover boy here—“ The dwarf smacked Legolas’ ass, causing the elf to jump. “—has taught the girl well.” He paused, before clarifying. “She’s on our side.”

“I see,” Théoden stated, suspicion still evident in his tone.

It was then that (Y/N) called out. “Legolas, what do these images mean? The ones made of little colorful stones?”

The King raised his eyebrows, caught off guard by her question.

“Tis a mosaic,” Legolas replied. “It tells the story of the men of Rohan.” 

She turned to look at him. “What is the story?” she asked. 

Surprisingly, Éowyn stepped forward and spoke. “It tells the tale of how we claimed and cultivated our lands. I can share it with you, if you’d like.”

(Y/N)’s face lit up. “Yes, I would like to hear the story.”

Cautiously, Éowyn approached the Rámaite Mahtar and began recounting the narrative depicted in the artwork along the walls.

“A curious creature then,” Théoden stated, simply. 

“Oh, you have no idea,” Aragorn replied, rolling his eyes. 

The King cleared his throat. “It will be best to keep her indoors while she heals. I do not want her to frighten my people. They are already scared enough.”

“Understood,” the Ranger replied.

The group dispersed, some settling down to eat breakfast, others going about their own duties. Éowyn sat with Aragorn and Gimli, while (Y/N) practically drug Legolas by the hand to re-explain the story Eowyn told her. 

In a hushed tone, Éowyn spoke. “She doesn’t seem so dangerous.”

“I wouldn’t take you for one to underestimate a woman,” Aragorn said, sipping from his cup. 

“I wouldn’t, but the way you all described her—as if she was a vile beast.”

“Oi, Lassie, she is,” Gimli stated. “(Y/N) over there could cut ya and half ya men down within a second.”

Éowyn ‘s gaze shifted. “And the elf? Could she cut him down too?”

Gimli nodded in confirmation. “She could cut us all down.”

“Yet he still loves her?” she asked with parted lips.

“Hopelessly,” Gimli grumbled. “Entirely hopelessly.” 

Éowyn turned her head toward the pair. She watched as the Rámaite Mahtar smiled up at Legolas in pure delight, and he returned the affectionate gaze. 

How in a time of war, they could find such love? 

……

A couple of weeks had passed since their arrival in Rohan. (Y/N)’s wings had fully healed and were now neatly folded back into her form. She spent her days with her friends listening in on conversations and debates of war—not that she truly understood. In addition to her time with the others, she found herself assisting Éowyn with various tasks within Rohan’s walls. She learned to bake bread and prepare other provisions in the kitchen. (Y/N) also helped select sturdy fabrics for the men preparing for war. She even assisted in organizing Rohan’s swords and spears—though, admittedly, she only slowed the process for she asked many questions. 

Currently, it was late in the night as (Y/N) wandered through the echoing halls of Rohan. Tomorrow morning, they would depart for Helm's Deep to seek refuge. She was determined to absorb as much as possible about this place before moving on to the next. Aware that war loomed on the horizon, she craved a brief taste of freedom.

For nearly an hour, she had roamed the silent halls, peering into open doors and descending stairs. It was only when she heard unfamiliar sounds that her brow furrowed in concern. The faint echoes of hushed moans and muffled groans drew her curiosity, prompting her to cautiously follow the source.

She followed the noises until she came upon a small, long, narrow window that was covered in intricate bars. Peering in, she saw a vast room adorned in fabrics of pink and red. Soft cushions and beds were scattered about, where men and women laid together in various pairs, two or three people at most. They were bare, their bodies intertwined in intimate embraces, eliciting sounds of pleasure and the music of skin upon skin.

(Y/N) squinted as she watched, unsure of what she was seeing. 

Though as her gaze lingered on their bodies moving together, she felt desire. She bit her bottom lip as warmth began to build between her legs and her limbs twitched with eagerness. 

“Lady (Y/N), what are you doing down these halls?!” A female voice chided in a hushed tone. "I've been searching for you since a servant informed me that you never returned to your chambers."

(Y/N) turned to see Éowyn, then returned her gaze to the window. “What are they doing?” She asked. 

Éowyn frowned. “You do not know?”

(Y/N) shook her head. “Never have I seen people do such a thing.”

“Haven’t you been around for eons?” she asked, confused. 

“Well, yes, but my people did not do this—this…what is this?”

Éowyn awkwardly cleared her throat. "We may go to war in a couple of days. These men, these soldiers, are seeking their last pleasure before they march to their deaths."

(Y/N) frowned. “I don’t understand.” 

The Lady of Rohan pressed her lips together awkwardly. It appeared that she would have to be quite blunt with the Rámaite Mahtar. “They are having sex. This is a brothel. It is where men go to pay women for such things.”

“Why?”

“I have been told that it feels good,” she explained with embarrassment. 

“You have never—?”

Éowyn interrupted her. “By the Eru—no, of course not. Those men in there are perverting an act of love. Sex is an act meant to be between two people who love each other dearly and are wed. Often, it is done in hopes to create a child. I am a Lady of Rohan. I must keep my honor until I am married and fulfill my duty to produce an heir.”

“This is how babies come to be then,” (Y/N) clarified. 

Éowyn nodded. “Yes, sometimes.”

“My kind have never needed to have children. We were all made as we are. Made to kill,” (Y/N) remarked, glancing at Éowyn. “I was told that having babies is why we women bleed.”

Éowyn nodded, trying to understand. “Yes, yes it is. I—I am surprised no one has told how such a thing comes to be.”

(Y/N) shrugged. “Legolas, Aragorn, and the others…they haven’t talked of this sex before.”

Éowyn shook her head, her tone taking on a low level of disdain. “Men. You have only been traveling with men. Of course, they haven’t told you of such a thing.” She inhaled, taking a moment to recenter herself. “Such conversations are between a mother and daughter.” She paused, before awkwardly glancing into the brothel. “Come, Lady (Y/N). This place is not for us.” 

With that, the Lady of Rohan gently tugged the Rámaite Mahtar away from this window; however, (Y/N)’s eyes were reluctant to leave for she was a curious creature indeed—eager to understand the ways of this new world. 

Éowyn sensing (Y/N)'s lingering fascination and being rather uncomfortable with it, swiftly ushered her back into the quiet stillness of her chambers.

The air was heavy with the weight of impending war, yet (Y/N)'s mind was filled with questions. She lay on her bed, unable to find sleep, her thoughts consumed by the scenes she had witnessed at the brothel window. Curiosity gnawed at her, yearning to understand the allure of this intimacy that men sought before their deaths. What made it so compelling? Was it truly their last wish—their last desire?

Her thoughts then shifted. Eowyn had said it was to be done with someone you care for with your deepest heart. She bit her lip. Legolas. 

With that, (Y/N) cast her covers aside, the white fabric tumbled and rumbled carelessly. Her bare feet were cold on the stone floor as she silently slipped out of her wooden door once more—ignoring the previous persistence Éowyn had held in her tone when she had told her to stay put before she left. Stealthily, (Y/N) made her way towards the chamber where the others in the fellowship slept. She peered in, careful not to wake them. Immediately, she spotted Legolas sitting upright with his back against the cool stone wall.

Sensing a presence, he opened his eyes. “(Y/N)?” he whispered. “What are you doing here? What is wrong?” 

“Nothing is wrong,” she replied as he stood rather quickly. “Come with me.”

Curious, he stood and his feet led him towards her. Pausing in the doorway, he gazed down at her, trying to read her expression.

She grinned up at him, desire burning. “Come,” she whispered again, taking his hand and leading him towards her room. 

As soon as she turned the knob and closed the door behind them, she pressed her body against Legolas'. Her lips eagerly met his, savoring the familiar taste of pine and honey that always lingered on him. He responded with gentle caution, lifting his hands to cup her face, unsure where this insistent passion of hers was coming from, nor what it would lead to. 

“(Y/N),” he mumbled against her lips. 

She playfully nipped at him, pulling him towards the bed. With a swift motion, she pushed him onto it and climbed up herself, straddling him.

“(Y/N),” he began again, “What are you—“ but her lips silenced him once more. 

She settled onto his lap, weaving her fingers into his hair and matching her mouth to his. She then started to mimic the movements of the women’s hips that she had seen in the brothel, rolling them in a slow deep motion. It felt good. 

“(Y/N),” Legolas moaned in pleasure, trying and failing to pull away.

She pushed him down, his head falling into the pillows. The Rámaite Mahtar eagerly pulled at his tunic, desperate to get it off, as she continued to grinded on him, feeling a hardness form in his pants. Oh, how she enjoyed the feeling it caused between her legs.

“(Y/N),” Legolas forced out, his lips parting, followed by a couple breathless elvish curses.

At the sound of her name upon his lips, her wings snapped open—a reflex—tearing through the white fabric that cloaked her. 

“(Y/N),” Legolas practically growled, grabbing her hips and pulling himself upwards, his mouth only inches away from hers. Gently, he spoke, “Stop. Please, stop.”

She halted her motions. “Does it not feel good to you?” she asked. 

He closed his eyes, his chest falling and rising quickly as he tried to regulate his breath. “It does, Valar, believe me, it does feel good. But we shouldn’t—we shouldn’t do this. How-how do you even know of this?”

She frowned. “Sex?” 

He opened his gaze, staring intently into hers. “Yes. How do you know of sex?” 

“I found a place. Éowyn called it a brothel. She told me of sex. She said they did it because it felt good and they knew they were going to die.” She paused, “Éowyn said that you’re supposed to do it with someone you love. I love you.” 

Legolas leaned his forehead against hers, still trying to calm his heart rate. “I love you too, (Y/N). But this—we can’t do this right now.”

“You do not want to?” She asked genuinely, pulling her head from his ever so slightly.

“Oh, gods, (Y/N). Of course, I do.” he paused, closing his eyes for just a moment, as he felt her hot breath on his lips. “But you and I are not yet wed.”

“Éowyn said that the people in the brothel were not married,” she breathed out, her mouth just barely grazing his. 

A light chuckle rumbled in his chest. “No, no they were not. That is prostitution. Men pay for sex. In a brothel, they treat it as a service, not as love.” He gently cupped one side of her face, making eye-contact with her. “I was taught that sex is not wrong in any means when it comes from love. You and I, (Y/N)��we do have that love. But, in my culture, elves do not have sex without being wed. And I am a Prince. I have rules I must follow. And you, you are not yet accustomed to this world. I will not take advantage of you.” 

“It is not taking advantage of me if I want it too,” she replied. 

He gently rubbed his thumb upon her cheek. “I know, my starlight, I know. I just do not believe this is the right time.”

She breathed in and nodded slowly—thinking. “Okay. If you want to wait, then we will wait.” 

“Is that alright with you?” 

She dipped her head up and down once again. “Yes,” she replied definitely.  

He smiled gently at her before pressing a soft kiss to her lips then pulling her into a tight embrace. 

“I love you with every ounce of my being, (Y/N). Never forget that.”

She buried her head into his neck and wrapped her wings around his form, as if she were shielding them both from the outside world. “I love you too, Legolas.”

Like that they stayed, feeling safe in the comfort of each other’s arms. 

….

Everything Tag: @lea----b @aredhel-of-gondolin @princecami @the-fandoms-georgie @jazziwritestolkienprimary @swimming-in-stardust @elvish-sky @red-riding @hey-its-nonny @mirclealignr @laneynoir @straysugzhpe @runningfeather @awarwithinitself @finallyforgotten @kaiawrites @commanderawkward @xxbluestrifexx @slytherinambitious @redbirdbluebird333-blog @haylee-e @atokirina-tsuki @misshale21 @calypso888-blog @merlinbtch @lovelybaka @rilezra @sotwk

Legolas tag: @mylittle-escapingdreams @abandoncloud9 @aphroditesmoon @carojasmin2204 @phoenix666 @phoenix666stuff @high-sea-husbands @aheadfullofsteverogers @rippleinthestars @tiny-and-witchy

The Innocence of Brutality: @carojasmin2204 @therealscarletpumpernickel @noodlenerd101 @acupnoodle @altheanightingale  @altheanightingale @casedoina @goosy-goose @hitherethea

Add yourself to my taglist(s)

[bg-brainrot]

"When He’s all but Forgotten How to Love Again" - Astarion x GN!Reader - Series Masterlist

Pairing: Astarion x GN!Reader (Elf!Tav for plot reasons)

Genre: Reincarnation, Angst, Mystery, Slow burn

Rating: Explicit, 18+

Tags: Gender-Neutral Pronouns, POV Second Person, Canon-Typical Violence, cw: blood, cw: Astarion's entire backstory, cw: sex, Eventual Smut, Eventual Romance, Eventual Fluff, Grief, Mourning, Developing Relationship

Series WC: 113k words and ongoing, 21/?? chapters

Summary: An Elf-Tav reincarnation story where Reincarnated!Tav dreams about Astarion in their nightly reveries and eventually seeks him out once they reach maturity. Things definitely totally go well.

Author’s Notes: I'm bringing over some of my multi-chapter fics from AO3, so if you've already read this, ty!! I love you and appreciate you so much! I will continue to add chapters as I format them, but the full fic is available on AO3 here if you're feeling like a binge.

Heads up-- while there will be explicit moments, this is first and foremost focused on romantic tension and yearning, asking the question: 'Would you still love me if I was someone completely different?’ Explicit scenes will be few and far between and very much focused on their feelings. It’s essentially an established relationship slow burn?

This has unascended Astarion, “good” choices are made in the original timeline, Tav needs to be an elf for this to work, but otherwise no specifics on past Tav. Present day Tav is a magic-user.

Chapters:

Chapter 1: Knifes and Nightmares

At 12 years old, you first dream of the Pale Elf. The encounter scares you and sets you on your path forward.

Chapter 2: The Second Encounter with the Pale Elf

Nearly 19, you think you have a handle of your past lives. However, not all of your past lives are created equal.

Chapter 3: What it Means to Love

Now 29, you're still trying to piece together parts of your past. In particular, what exactly was your relationship with Astarion?

Chapter 4: In this Lifetime

Now 99-years-old, you've managed to ignore your worst impulses to run off to Baldur's Gate. One night's reverie finally breaks you.

Chapter 5: Guidance from a Druid

After finally setting off to find Astarion, you receive a confounding memory from your past life. Ignoring what it might mean, you focus on your task and visiting Halsin, one of your past-self's friends.

Chapter 6: The Man of your Dreams

You make your way toward Astarion, trying your best to prepare for the encounter to come.

Chapter 7: Just One Night

You plead your case to the vampire.

Chapter 8: Who You Have Become

You try to learn more of who Astarion's become, while also trying to convince him of who you were.

Chapter 9: Ghosts of You

After he storms off, you try to track Astarion down only to find yourself on a trip down memory lane. Once you do catch his trail, you’re surprised to see where he’s gone.

Chapter 10: Overheard in the Underdark

You traverse a new landscape, looking for Astarion. What you find might be more than you bargain for, and what you hear might be too much to handle.

Chapter 11: An Interrogation

You spend the night in vampire prison and have a difficult conversation.

Chapter 12: The Source of his Pain

As you aim to leave and never look back, Astarion realizes that perhaps *he's* the one that made the mistake.

Chapter 13: And They Were Roommates

You and Astarion try to find a common ground between you. Things are awkward and tentative, and progress is anything but linear.

Chapter 14: A Blossoming Friendship

Now in your second week of living together, you and Astarion have to get past some of the hurdles your first week introduced, all while getting a bit closer along the way.

Chapter 15: More than Friends Pt. 1

Push finally comes to shove. As fun as living in the present is, Astarion forgets that present dangers are still very, very real. Afterward, emotions run high, and you find yourself in a familiar predicament.

Chapter 16: More than Friends Pt. 2

After talking through the previous night's tryst, emotions are confused, pasts are divulged, and everything comes to a head when your heart and soul want different things.

Chapter 17: What We are Now

When you’re left to your own devices, you find yourself knee-deep in mystery. Despite all of this, Astarion never leaves your mind. And perhaps you never leave his.

Chapter 18: Traveling with a Friend

You and Astarion travel together to Waterdeep. Emotions run high as you reconnect and reestablish your boundaries.

Chapter 19: The Wizard’s Tower

After traveling through Waterdeep, you and Astarion finally arrive at Gale's tower. Introductions are made, tours are had, and the relationship between yourself and Astarion continues to remain complicated.

Chapter 20: Sweets and Shopping

After receiving some advice from Gale, you and Astarion spend the day shopping and talking through your friendship.

Chapter 21: Dansarra’s Delights

Your wizard friend gives you a nigh impossible task, and you spend the day trying to find your opening to complete it.

Chapter 22 - TBA

...

[percheduphere]

LET'S TALK ABOUT THE CHOICE LOKI WANTED TO GIVE MOBIUS

Thanks for the comment, @sunflowerdigs!

I am also in HUGE debt to @loki-us for the below gifs that I could not find anywhere in Tumblr's gif search system. Thank you, friend! So many of my metas would not be possible without your help and support!

The poetic irony is definitely the point and is the reason why the S2 finale is as painful as it is.

I've previously discussed how Mobius would 100% absolutely choose to be with Loki at the End of Time and his decision-making history that points to this as being in-character here.

I also reviewed Loki's decision-making here.

Now let's discuss the choice Loki desperately wanted to give Mobius:

gif credit: @loki-us

gif credit: @loki-us

gif credit: @loki-us

(Original gif set post here)

What I love about this scene with Sylvie is that it is a perfect example of narrative subtext at work. The emotional thrust behind Loki's words may be interpreted as either platonic or romantic. Ultimately, it doesn't matter (well, it does, but it's a minor detail) because the definitive meaning behind the subtext is what the TVA means to Loki and what he actually wants, which is getting Mobius back.

WHAT LOKI WANTS: TVA = FRIENDS = MOBIUS

Let's break down the scene:

Sylvie asks what Loki wants. Sylvie, we must remember, is a Loki. She knows how Loki thinks, how he hides his vulnerability, and how he lies to himself. This allows her to suss out what Loki has difficulty admitting. I absolutely adore Sylvie for this.

1.) To stop HWR. - wrong

2.) To save the TVA. - wrong but closer; why?

3.) To save "all this" - too broad

4.) To save his friends. - correct

Ergo, stopping HWR is a means to an end, as it was for Sylvie. Saving the TVA could feasibly "save all this" from HWR, but who or what does Loki mean when he says "all this"? He means the timelines, certainly, but why does he care about the timelines? Because if all timelinee are destroyed, Sylvie and the TVA are destroyed too. Who is at the TVA? Loki's friends. Who is Loki's first and best friend? Mobius.

Therefore:

TVA = Friends = Mobius

Now, this isn't to play down the importance of OB, Verity, and Casey, but the series has been very clear about which friendship is the most significant to Loki. S2E1 -S2E4 builds up Loki and Mobius's closeness for the explicit purpose of likewise building up the cost of Loki's sacrifice. Their separation in the finale would not have been given as much attention nor hurt as much if they didn't become close.

The editing here is very intentional. In screenwriting, we call this technique "off screen dialogue", which is denoted by the character's name followed by (o.s.), then their line of dialogue.

In example, the shooting script might say:

On Don's reaction.

LOKI

(o.s.)

It was more about what I wanted.

If this wasn't formatted as such in the original script, it was likely formatted as such in the shooting script, which is a highly detailed version of the script with notes on how each scene should be shot in production and edited in post. The same cinematic technique is used in S2E4, after the pie confrontation with Sylvie, in which Brad, off screen, says, "Aren't you gonna say anything?" The dialogue overlays Mobius's reaction shot before cutting to the scene with Brad and Dox.

THE CHOICE LOKI WANTED TO GIVE (BUT COULDN'T)

It is also no accident that Loki very pointedly talks about Mobius, what he thinks Mobius wants, and how Mobius should have a choice. In making his point, Loki shows that he is actually quite confident that Mobius would choose the TVA and therefore, HIM.

But perched! The TVA means Loki's friends! How can the TVA also mean Loki?

THE TVA ALSO = LOKI

Well ...

(Thank you so much for your marvelous gif set @riotinyellow)

After the Loom explodes, everyone is returned to their original timeline except Loki. What is significant but not often discussed is that Sylvie is returned to her 1982 Broxton, Oklahoma timeline. She did not remain at the TVA despite being a Loki herself. The subtext of this is that Sylvie associates the 1982 timeline as where she belongs, where she feels at home. If we parallel this subtext to Loki, this means the TVA is where Loki feels he belongs and thus, feels at home. He only begins to timeslip once he realizes the people he cares about aren't there. Notably, Loki unconsciously timeslips to Mobius the most. I have a meta on Loki's timeslipping here.

As people, we define ourselves not only by our past, our talents, our weaknesses, our interests, and our dislikes, we also define ourselves by our relationships (good and bad). The implication, therefore, is that TVA symbolically represents not only friendship and Mobius, it represents Loki, too.

The most painful part of Loki's argument, which is never communicated directly but is subtextually inferred, is that not only does Loki want Mobius to choose the TVA (him), he is confident that Mobius would choose the TVA (him). And why shouldn't Loki be confident? Mobius has been his most loyal friend. Mobius has never abandoned him even when he was angry with him.

This sets up the meaning behind the subtext of Mobius's departure from the TVA in the finale. Mobius insists the TVA provides him with meaning, that he likes it there, and that he is grateful for whoever took him and "gave [him] this pie" (interestingly, it is Loki who recruits Mobius first, gives him his name, and offers pie to help calm Mobius down).

EVERYONE'S CHOICE & MOBIUS LEAVING THE TVA

Once Loki is gone, however, Mobius only stays at the TVA long enough to ensure it's changed for good and has appropriate leadership. What's striking is that, with the exception of Mobius, all of Loki's friends, given the choice, chose to stay at the TVA. This answers the question Loki posed with Sylvie: How many of them would choose to stay?

Verity, OB, and Casey all have purpose. Mobius's purpose has always been Loki. That purpose evolved into friendship once he stopped Loki's "reset" and uncovered Ravonna's corruption. Just as TVA = Friends = Mobius for Loki, for Mobius, the TVA = Loki. When Loki is gone, so is Mobius's purpose, his place of belonging, his home. Mobius loses everything, including (platonically or romantically) someone he deeply loves.

[hyperfixat]

hbd to me!!!!!!! here’s a vent fic i wrote a few months ago so proceed with caution; reader attempted suicide, reader continues to have suicidal thoughts/attempts, reader seeks harm onto themself (both from external sources and self inflicted), reader is depressed!!! be sure to evaluate your mental state before reading this fic :3. this also contains a scene that i felt compelled to write for some reason involving assisted hygiene: idk i felt that needed a little acknowledgment..

ik its my birthday fic and it proably should be happy, but theres a bit of hurt comfort to this that i love and i polished it up to share so that hopefully u like it too.. again heed my warnings^

also final note; formatted on my pc, sprry if its funky

The first thing you feel upon waking up is disappointment.  This… you rub your face with your hands.  You can’t do anything right, you sigh.  Waking up is a clear sign of a failure as to your plans.

Although you frown as you observe your surroundings, this isn’t where you would be if someone had caught you attempting to take your life.  You wouldn’t be dumped in the middle of a sunny field.  This isn’t a hospital or ward, in fact there’s no sign of any modern buildings from where you sit.

Just where are you…?

You use shaky arms to lift yourself up, and begin to attempt to find a way home.  Or for something to just kill you.

What luck, you realize morbidly, you spawned on a plateau, and that’s all you allow yourself to think before breaking into a sprint and running both to and over the edge.

You hit the plains with a crack and you wheeze out a pained groan.  Before you can lift yourself up to try again or seek help or check for any witnesses, you feel your body fade away. It’s a weightless feeling as you sink into the earth of Teyvat.

There is not much pain, not as much as you had hoped or expected.  In ways this is a pro, for you are a coward in the face of pain no matter deserved or otherwise.

You fade, but not into the hold of death, at least you don’t think this is death, rather you fade from your spot crumpled on the ground into a sitting position firmly in the arms of an Anemo Statue of Seven.  The marble orb of Barbatos’ lookalike stops you from falling out of the statue’s arms and you heave a sigh.

How unfortunate.  It seems you cannot permanently die here.  Though… what if it was a fluke…?  With another bone deep sigh you fall to the ground and walk back to the ledge and stare down at the fifty foot drop.

Before you work up the courage to take the plunge a high, excited voice calls out for you.  You flinch, opening your eyes to see a youthful bard dressed in Mondstatian green, holding his hands out for you.  Venti is sprinting towards you and you take a step back nervously.  He seems to recognize you… but how could that be?  

His face falls as you back away and his sprint slows when he’s a few yards away from being able to reach out to you.  Venti calls your name again.  He falters, the smile adorning his face slips.

“Wait…” his voice wavers.  “What are you doing, Divine One?”

Why did he call you that…?  Is it some Mondstat greeting of sorts?  You can’t kill yourself in front of him and retraumatize the poor guy, so you allow him to get closer to you, and you don’t stop him when he sweeps his lythe form down into a kneeling bow.

“Hello.”  You greet, unsure of how one is supposed to act when approached by a fictional character.

Venti lifts his gaze from the ground up to your face, looking downright awestruck.

“I, we, have long awaited your descent, Divine One, it is an honor to have you grace the lands of Freedom with your presence first.”  

Uh-oh.  He seems to have confused you with someone else, because you are certainly no one special and definitely not any sort of divine.  How are you gonna break that to him without too much embarrassment on either of your parts?

“Please, come with me to the city, I’m certain the people will be delighted to host the one who shaped the world.”  His voice is high with a musical lilt, and it’s hard to decline him.

“I’m sorry,” your voice comes out dry, and you realize you’re terribly dehydrated.  “I think there’s been a mistake.  I’m not whoever you think I am.”

You take a step back, backing yourself up the hill onto higher ground.

“Whatever do you mean, Divine One?  Your presence is unmistakable.”

You shake your head, stepping further away from the Archon.  Venti reaches his hand out to grasp at the bottom hem of your pajama pants.  “Please!  I’ve waited so long for you.”  He falls onto his knees to beg.

Fuck, his eyes are so pretty when he pleads.  You don’t want to risk angering whatever God he’s mistaking you with, though, “Venti….”  

The blue-green sky of his eyes turns to the color of the ocean as tears well up in his waterline.  His whole body shivers when you utter his chosen name.  “I can keep it a secret from the public.  Surely only Archons and those blessed with a Vision will be able to sense you.  We can keep it quiet, please, Divine One, I beg of you.”

“I’m not this Divine One you speak of,” you kneel and place a hand on his hat.  Venti’s eyes search yours with confusion. As he lifts his head, your hand presses into the curve of his skull, making him lean harder into your touch.

“Th-That’s okay, please just stay in Mondstadt for a night, that’s all I wish.”  He doesn’t believe you, that’s clear, but he seems so eager to appease you.

You pause, looking away from the pathetically begging archon.  His hands clench on your pant fabric.

“Okay.  Just for the night.”  You hope no one else from Mondsat is as strange as Venti is…

“I don’t have any way to pay for this,” you smile at Diluc, placing a hand on the side of the glass to push it back across the counter.

“I wouldn’t dream of making you pay, please drink all you wish.  Let me know if it isn’t to your taste.”

“Does that apply to their guide as well, Master Diluc?”

“No.”

“A shame,” Venti sighs, taking a deep drink from his glass.

You have to hand it to Venti, he is a good guide.  He’s quick to shut down any vision holder you come across with a quick whisper in their ear, and he truly knows Mondstadt in and out.

The bell above the door jingles as it swings open, and you glance behind you in time to see Rosaria come strolling in with a timid Barbara clutching the back of her cathedral robes.  She must not visit the Angel’s Share much, seeing as the hydro-user looks around with quick, nervous eyes.  When her eyes land on you they widen comically, her small hand darting out to steady herself on Rosaria’s forearm.

—

“Farewell, my Divinity,” “Safe travels, Divine One,” and “May the wind bless your travels, Your Grace,” follow your retreating form as you make the hike to Dragonspine.  

Honestly you aren’t certain where you’re heading.  If the other nations treat you the same as Mondstadt, that's a no-go.  You won’t know unless you go, though.  Maybe you should head the same route the Traveler would.  That would mean Dragonspine is your next destination.  

Who will you meet there?  Albedo…?  He’s the only one you can think of that stays there.

As you begin the trek you realize; he’s a research-type dude, you hesitate to say scientist, but he does experiments and such.  Perhaps, you can make use of yourself by giving your body up to him to work on.  Surely an undying body would greatly interest the research of life?

After a surprisingly simple search you find him and present your proposition.

“Absolutely not,” Albedo dismisses you without thought.  He doesn’t even bother to spare you a look.  “That is blasphemy of the highest order, I’d suggest giving that attitude up sooner rather than later.”

You flinch back at the words, taking a step back into the chill of Dragonspine.

“I can offer you sanctuary here if you seek it, but I will not harm you.”  

“That’s…” not at all what you want.  “That’s very kind of you to offer, but I must decline.”

His haunting blue eyes follow you down the snowy path to Liyue.  Once you are far too away to hear, he states calmly, “safe travels.”

As you walk down the icy paths lining the gravel streets you think… Albedo had rejected you just like that.  What’s the next step?

You might as well stop by Liyue Harbor, maybe meet some characters before… before maybe heading to Sumeru?  

Ahhah! It hits you then, the harbinger introduced in Sumeru: Il Dottore.  If Albedo had reservations, then Dottore would have none.

Even still, Liyue is a harbor.  You’re sure to find a way to Snezhnaya from there.

You almost get to the docks without drawing any attention to yourself.  Almost.

Your mistake laid in the fact that you passed the Golden House, the weekly Childe Boss fight.  In your defense you didn’t actually think he’d be in there.  And it’s not like you even went in, only going up the steps and around for a detour.  

And it was a quick route until a strangled gasp came from behind you, making you spin around in alarm.  There, Tartaglia stood, with pupils nearly the size of his gray-blue eyes, staring, completely enraptured by your visage.  Your knees buckle and you make to sprint, but your body is no match for a Fatui Harbinger.

In retrospect you’re not entirely sure what drove you to run, perhaps some fight or flight instinct buried inside of you.

His long hand wraps around your forearm, tugging you to a stop, you face him, and your face must portray your panic clearly because Tartaglia’s twists into sorrowful sympathy.

“My Divinity… it is an honor to meet you in the flesh.”

“Let go.”  He does, promptly so. 

“I’m sorry, I got ahead of myself.  May I ask where you are headed, and if you are in need of company?”

“No.  Thank you, Childe.” 

His face shifts into a serious look, nodding.  “Do you need an escort to Liyue then?  Is that where you’re heading?” 

“No.  I know where I’m going, and I much prefer to go alone.” It’s not entirely false, you know where you’re headed, just not how.

“Well… be safe, okay?  I hope to see you again.”

“I will.”  The lie comes out and you cringe, because its delivery falls flat and its so obviously untrue.

“Does Mr Zhongli know you’re here?  Surely you’re here to see Morax?” He strolls to your other side, offering a hand to lead you to the city.  You ignore the hand.

“Goodbye, Tartaglia.”

“I can’t let you leave alone in good conscience…. You don’t seem well.  Let me lead you to the harbor at least.”

Since he is as unmoving as stone, you let him take you to the main city, managing to ditch him before more people can know about your presence.

The boats docked at Liyue Harbor are hopeful.  “Where is this ship headed?” you ask one of the dock workers.  They look up at your voice before glancing at the ship they’re loading up with lumber.

“Snezhnaya.” They say glancing up at the grand vessel.  “Why?  Where’re you tryna go, friend?”  

“Snezhnaya.  How much does the fare cost, one way?”

—

“News of your travels have reached Snezhnaya, Divine One.”  Dottore starts, fixing his posture from a lean on a surgical table to something more proper.  You shake your head, the weariness you’ve accumulated on your journey weighing down on you.  You’re finally where you deserve to be.

“I’m not the Divine One you speak of, Dottore.”

“Hm?  Do you think so little of my intelligence?  Your presence is unmistakable.”

“No, it’s not that.  But I’m not.  I’m just a regular person.  And I came to you for a reason.”

“Oh?  The Creator themself, seeking me out?  It’s an honor,” the doctor bows to you, smirking at you from beneath his beaklike mask.

“I need you to hurt me.”

“What?”  He pulls himself up with a startled question.  “I’m afraid I misheard you, Divine One.”

“I can’t die, Dottore.  I’m giving myself to you, you…” you heave a sigh as you explain your reasoning.  “You could make use of me.  I’m not whoever you think I am, please just take me.  I don’t care what you do to me.”

“You’re… giving yourself to me?”  

“Yes.”

“Do you know what happens to my… patients?”

“Yes, that's why I’m here.  I can’t die, I imagine I would make a good test subject.”

“Is this a test?”  Dottore seems to be speaking to himself more than anything.  He pushes away from the table and paces to the back room of the lab, muttering madly to himself as he does so.  The door swings open with a loud screeching and you catch sight of multiple mops of blue hair and masks.  

His Segments.

You can hear a conversation ongoing between all of the parts of Zandik, it seems he doesn’t want to be rash and take you in too hastily.  You can understand his (their?) hesitancy; if a god offered themselves up to you, you would surely think it was a trap.  But you aren’t a god, so it should be a no brainer for him.  How often does he get consenting test subjects?

It seems this absurd idea of you being a higher power has infiltrated Snezhnaya as well, which is… not good. Everyone is saying you’re more than what you are, you can’t be a god, you barely consider yourself a human.

An older, completely unmasked Segment sticks his head out of the door, frowning once he makes eye contact with you.  There’s gray leaking from his roots into the teal of Dottore’s hair, and visible aging lines on his face; crows feet and tension on his cheekbones.  Glowing red eyes narrow upon meeting your own, mouth pulling into a tight line.

A younger segment, smaller in size and stature, with a nearly full face mask, only showing part of his mouth.  You think that is the one that the Fandom surrounding him dubbed Webttore.  You usually see pictures of him with a wide, jagged-tooth smile, but, like his older part, he looks solemn.

You wonder just how many Segments Il Dottore has, because you can still hear an entire conversation going on without the two.

The conversation seems to be dying down, not ending without a few red eyes peeking out from behind the door at you.  It’s surreal seeing so many versions of the same person at once; the youthful ones, eyes wide, and the older ones with wrinkles built with time and age, all at the same moment in time.

Eventually though, they do seem to come to a verdict: the Omega segment, the one you met upon walking into his lab, exits, closing the door behind him with a click that resonates through the room.

His answer is a simple word.  “No.”

Your heart drops and stomach sinks at the rejection, and based on il Dottore’s reaction it must show.  “Why?” your voice is small and sounds foreign to your own ears.

“I cannot forsake the true god in such a way, whether you acknowledge it or not, you have that power.”

All the turmoil and hardships it took to get here come crashing down, the light at the end of the tunnel is rejecting you.  You hadn’t known this was something that could happen, your… your savior, the one you were looking for is telling you no.  He won’t lay a finger on you, and it’s tearing you apart.  This was the only thing that kept you from burying yourself in the deep forest of Sumeru and letting yourself rot.

“Oh.” It’s shaky and you nod, trying to take it maturely.  “I see.”  Your voice is warbling like you're on the verge of tears.  Blinking rapidly to dispel the water from your eyes, you lower your head and make to scamper out of the lab.

Dottore lets out a heavy sigh, and his leather gloves wrap around your wrist.

“Wait.”  You nervously glance up at his mask.

“You said you would ‘give yourself to me,’ no?”

Your heart pounds heavily in your chest, “yes.”  Has he suddenly changed his mind? You shouldn't get your hopes up.

“I will take you.  I doubt you will appreciate my intentions, but if I were to own you, you wouldn’t be able to complain.  After all, you will have done it to yourself.”

You don’t know what those words mean, but the stinging rejection welling up in your eyes turns to relief. “Thank you,” he doesn’t stop you from dashing to his side and wrapping your arms around his waist.  You press your face into his abdomen, letting his clothes soak up your tears.  A hesitant hand rubs over your spine, an effort to soothe you.

You pull yourself together, sucking in a deep breath of the sterile lab air.  

“Alright,” Dottore says after he deems you put together enough.  “Come.”  His hand covers your wrist, gently tugging you behind him.  You aren’t sure where he is leading you, as he takes you out of the lab.  The halls are tall and gorgeously crafted, intermittent with intricate moldings on the wall.  

It’s a small room you find yourself in, but it is infinitely better than the wilderness.  The size is comparable to an average hotel room.  Dottore instructs you to sit and stay on the bed, which you do obediently.  Nerves swirl inside of you, as to where he has gone and what he will bring back with - when he will return, if at all.

Il Dottore knows.  While he is not well versed on human, much less godly, psychology, he can tell you’re depressed when you first stumbled your way into his workstation. Besides, he’d be hard pressed to deny the rumors from various agents that had been located in places you’d traveled through.

With a small caddy in his hands Dottore kneels next to the nightstand and places a hand on your shoulder to force you to lay down.  “Arm.”  Is what he prompts for you to let him maneuver your arm to lay open and flat over the edge of the bed. 

The scent of alcohol alerts you to the sanitary wipe before you feel the chill of it.  You keep your eyes trained on the ceiling as you feel the slight pinch of a needle  and a clicking as an IV is deposited into your arm.  Out of the corner of your eye you see Dottore set up a drip, but you don’t bother to ask what it is, the excitement of the day catching up with you.

Il Dottore eventually leaves the room in silence after pushing an odd vial of liquid into the drip, not bothering to look behind him as he closes the door and leaves with confident strides.

Although it’s entirely possible it’s simply the Placebo Effect, as the drip spreads throughout your veins you can feel your eyes getting heavier and heavier.  Before long you can no longer keep them open and slip into a dreamless sleep.

You wake up to a Mirror Maiden tidying up the nightstand next to you.  You observe her work, wondering how she can manage to navigate with the blind pulled over her eyes.  She startles when she catches your eyes on her, though returns back to work, quietly disposing of the used needles from earlier.  You wonder what The Doctor has injected you with; wonder if he added more of whatever it is while you were unconscious.

There’s a brisk, impatient knock on the door and the Maiden straightens up, taking hold of everything to discard and striding over to change positions with Tartaglia behind the door.

You stay flat on your back, looking at the ginger in mild surprise.  Last you saw him he was in Liyue and set to stay for quite a while.  Had he heard you gave yourself away to Il Dottore?   Is he here to plead for you to change your mind?

But to your bemusement he stays quiet, walking over to and kneeling next to your bed.  Instead of speaking he merely rests his head on the nightstand, dull blue eyes gazing at you sadly, yet reverently.

You’re unsure of how long you look up at the ceiling, doing your best to ignore Tartaglia’s eyes on you.  His gaze is unwavering, and eventually, you turn your head to the side, meeting his eyes.

“I’m sorry for my behavior in Liyue.  I was too excited to see you, and my manners deserted me.”

“It’s okay.” You croak, throat dry from sleep.  “I was dismissive as well.”

Dottore doesn’t bother to knock when he comes in.

“I see you’re awake and seem to have found a stray harbinger.”

Tartaglia doesn’t react to his entrance, merely moving to the far end of the bed, laying his head on the covers near your feet.  You realize someone has drapped a plain, solid color duvet over your body when you slept. 

“Are you feeling anything out of the ordinary?” Dottore asks, checking the emptied IV bag.  He unclips it and pulls a fresh one from his lab coat pocket.

You take the moment to assess (how do you spell it) your body.  In all honesty you’re feeling much better, the hydration from the drip really made a difference.

“I feel hydrated.”

Dottore hums, he sounds disinterested.  “How’s your appetite? Can you stomach anything for me?”  He clips a new bag onto the pole, screwing it into your IV’s tube. “Stand if you can.” 

Dottore’s eyes watch you intensely behind his mask, observing how you tremble when you put a leg onto the floor.  “Childe, help them and follow me.”

Tartaglia scrambles to steady your arm as you fully get out of the bed, wrapping the one without the needle in it around his shoulder to support you.  You stiffen, but aren’t in any position to be able to get around without him, not with the emptiness of your stomach and the way black fades into your vision when you stand.  “Get them to the restroom, take care of their needs.  I will return with what they will eat.”

“Come on, I got you,” Tartaglia assures as he leads you to the ensuite restroom. It’s nothing too fancy; simply a sink, shower, and toilet.

You eye the toilet, realizing how long it’s been since you’ve relieved yourself.  A shower would also be nice…

“Allow me to assist you, Divine One,” Tartaglia remains stoic and respectful as he shimmies your pants and underwear down your legs, letting you support yourself on his broad shoulders as you step out of the pant holes.  After making sure you get to the toilet safely he turns around and starts the shower faucet.

The sound of the water helps you get over your pee shyness and by the time Tartaglia finishes soaking and preparing a cloth for you, you’ve finished and are ready to bathe.

With weak arms you gather the hem of your shirt in your hands and remove the remainder of your clothes.

Tartaglia helps you get clean with warm, respectful touches, passing you the cloth for you to clean more intimate areas, before helping you out of the shower and wrapping a large, soft towel around your body.  It’s huge, covering the top of your bust to well past mid-calf, looping around your body almost twice.  He tucks the towel tightly with practiced precision. 

“Il Dottore will be back soon, I’ll help you get dressed before he returns.  Do you have any material preferences?”

—

You sit up in bed, feeling marginally better than the day before.  The day after that, and the day after that all proceed in a similar fashion; each time you feel just a little bit better.  More clear headed, a better appetite, less like a corpse walking.

Only after Dottore deems you well enough to remove the IV do you get your suspicions that it was more than just the proper nutrition making you feel better.  He still stops by your room twice a day for some shots; he encouraged you to choose where he would deposit them (when you said into your brain or through your chest, it did not amuse him).  It feels suspiciously like the antidepressants you’ve been on before.  

It only further confuses you, though.  Does he want you in a proper state of mind for something?  He has no reason other than unfounded faith to help you, you don’t like it.  It’s … uncomfortable receiving this type of care, knowing it’s only because they think you're better than who you really are.

The food they feed you, the clothes they dress you in, it's all much more than you deserve.

“What are you doing to me?”

“Pardon?” Dottore sets the syringe down with a metallic click.  Through his mask you can feel his gaze on you.

“You’re… you’re trying to— to…” the words fail you.

“Mitigate your depressive symptoms?  Yes, I am.  What of it?”  Il Dottore picks the syringe back up, pushing the knob back before stabbing it into the vial in his hand. He pulls the liquid up with ease before removing the needle and pushing to remove the excess air in the syringe.

“Why?”

“Hm?  Why would I not?”  He flicks the syringe and some liquid flies from the point of the needle.

“If I were anyone else you wouldn’t be doing this.”

“Indeed.”

“Haven’t you realized by now that I’m not who you think I am?  That I’m just a normal human in a horrible situation of being unable to die?”

“That is not so.  Your skin cultures and biopsy results do not share that conclusion.  Even if you continue to deny your god-hood, it changes nothing. I know for certain who you are, and you will remain in my care until you utilize your divine right to revoke such.”

Biopsy? When on Earth — Teyvat? — did that happen?  But there’s more important things to discuss with him for now, not that you care how or when it happened.  You’re more surprised you never noticed, that’s all.

“You’re wrong!”  You wail, tears finally coming for the first time in a while.  You had thrown your head back to speak, but now you collapse in on yourself with your head between your arms and legs.  It’s humid, but saves you from having to look at the doctor and his unreadable bird mask.

“Oh my,” you hear Dottore murmur, then he sets his medical supplies to the side and places a hand on your shoulder. He remains there while you sob, when finally the lack of speech seems to reach the boiling point, he heaves a sigh.  “If it is of any consolation, if it were to come to my attention that you are not in any way godly or divine, I would treat you the same.  I’ve put far too much care into you to just toss you aside..”

That consoles you, if only a little, damn the drugs making you want to continue life to see the future.   But you broke the dam of tears, and it’ll take a while for them to stop; you need to cry out everything that led you here….

Your… attempt that put you in Teyvat, the one you tried right after arrival, the false death, all the eyes and praise that aren’t meant for you.  It’s dysphoric.  

The lurches of your body with your cries, stitches your sides and you sniffle harder into the crevice your body makes, the moisture of the confined body space blending in with your tears.

“There now,” Dottore says, quieter as you get so as well.  “Perhaps some more rest will do you good.  I’ll be at the ready whenever you wake.”

[the-peak-tmnt]

I want to say that I like that your fic is mostly Raph centric because those fics are rare and he deserves more love and pain lol

Raph: Mom says it's my turn with the trauma

Thank you so much! I'm seriously so grateful for people who are willing to give a Raph-centric fic a shot!

I knew writing Raph-centric fic that's also a Mutant Mayhem fic was gonna turn a lot of people off from giving it a try, which I totally understand because I usually go for Leo-centric fics myself lol. It also doesn't help that Mutant Mayhem still isn't super popular.

But Mutant Mayhem Raph is an exciting new version of Raph that's been SO fun to explore, and I'm gonna go on a little rant about why I'm enjoying writing (and torturing) him so much!

[Initiating Raph Rant] So, almost all Raphs are tough guys who also wear their hearts on their sleeves, which is what makes him such a fun character. He's "the angry one", but usually also super emotional in other ways:

Because MM feels more like an actual teenager than most other iterations, his moments of emotional vulnerability feel particularly raw and relatable. I might be old as dirt now, but I do still remember what it was like to be a teenager still trying to figure out who they were and what they wanted in life.

Mutant Mayhem does such an amazing job of hitting on those teenage insecurities and desires. The turtles whole goal in the movie is to be accepted. All teenagers feel like outsiders and want acceptance at some point. That teenage desire for acceptance is amplified for the turtles because they're not just teenagers, but mutants as well. The moment where Raph's voice sort of wavers as he says "we're never gonna be normal" breaks my heart every time, because they're so sure acceptance is completely out of reach for them 😭

...but the MM boys do get acceptance by the human world by the end of the film. Raph even seems to find his place own at Eastman on the wrestling team in the post-credit scene.

I think this is what has turned a lot of fans off MM, though, because the turtles' need for secrecy and using their ninja skills to remain hidden has always been an integral part of the TMNT franchise. Personally, I actually love that departure from the typical TMNT format and talked about it once before.

But there are some traditional TMNT elements that I did miss in MM, one of those being the fact that in most iterations, Raph is an outsider even amongst outsiders. His anger is what alienates him from his brothers at times, and it often gets him into trouble. It’s also what almost always leads to his friendship with Casey (another outsider).

Tales of the TMNT isn't out yet, and we don't how this series will give Raph that traditional outsider treatment, or if it will at all. They could save it for Mutant Mayhem 2, but that's still years away. And even then they might decide not to go that route because so far, MM Raph's rage has mostly just manifested in a propensity for fighting & violence rather than interpersonal issues with his brothers & other people. His rage is even framed as useful in the final fight against Superfly.

So anyway...as canon stands right now pre-tottmnt/MM 2, Raph is an "insider". He and his brothers can have a life on the surface, and Raph even seems to have found his own place at Eastman on the wrestling team. Again, I'm all for this happy ending and a brand new experience for the turtles, but I was also missing my personal favorite flavor of Raph...which is angry and alienated lol.

After I saw MM in theaters, I started looking at a lot of the concept art and other production material floating around on the internet and I came across this concept art by Garrett Lee:

And it was like "oh shit, there he is! Outsider Raph!"

He looks so lonely and separate from everyone else here, and I was obsessed with this idea of Raph somehow still being an outsider even after the mutants were accepted by humans. But again, we're still waiting for tottmnt and MM 2, and even then there's no guarantee we'll get an Angry & Sad Outsider Raph out of either of those.

So I asked myself "how can I ruin MM Raph's life so that he's as lonely and miserable as he looks in this concept art???"

...and Reciprocity was born 😅

[mxtxfanatic]

Have you ever thought about connecting the scene where Hua Cheng pulls the nail out of Xie Lian's foot after reaffirming his pain, and the extra where Xie Lian refuses to leave Hua Cheng's side even though its causing him increasingly excruciating pain?

Nope, never, but to be fair, I never used to revisit the tgcf extras outside of the cave one (probably cause the formatting of my doc was so weird), but I’ve found a new appreciation for them now. Also, you’re in luck cause that’s actually the most recent one that I read lmao

I think Xie Lian’s relationship to physical pain is very interesting in that he takes a very “no matter what, I can handle it” approach to it, the only time it is broken being in the temple scene. He is willing to endure physical pain as long and as often as it takes to accomplish whatever goal he has set out to do, usually saving others or preventing harm. It’s not that he never feels pain, but he is so skilled at pushing it down that it no longer registers to him, which is why Hua Cheng calling attention to his pain brings it back to the forefront. On the other hand, the extra drives home something about Xie Lian’s character that I feel like is not talked about often enough: physical pain is something that Xie Lian can handle, but abandonment, on the other hand, is not.

So the whole time Xie Lian is feeling this pain in at the beginning of the extra, what he’s thinking about is not upsetting Hua Cheng on his birthday. When the pain becomes physically unbearable and makes him pass out, what he cares about is how it may have ruined the day. When Xie Lian and co find out that the pain is somehow linked to Hua Cheng, all Xie Lian can think about is his husband. But the moment it’s suggested that maybe Hua Cheng stay away until they can find out the origins, Xie Lian panics. After all, pain is just pain, but to be physically separated from a loved one “for his own good”? That was his breaking point. He would rather deal with excruciating physical pain than the emotional pain of being isolated. And remember: the last and really only time physical pain broke Xie Lian also happened at the time in his life that Xie Lian had been completely and utterly abandoned. This was not coincidental. He knows what that feels like, and if he must feel pain, he would rather not feel it alone.

[kaybreezy3000]

Master Post-Five Hargreeves Stuff

I like to write, and I hope there's a little something on here for everyone to enjoy. Short one-shots, the occasional requests if I get them, long novel length stories- Pairings, no pairings, various rating options-all clearly marked so stay away from stuff you don't like please or find the versions I have on A03 that allow you to skip explicit material.

This is a full list with links for my stories and some of my art featuring Number Five (TUA). For direct Tumblr posts for art and stories, hit here.

⚠️Since this came up for me: Please do not repost, translate, or reproduce my works in any format to other sites or this one. REBLOGS ARE THE WAY TO GO, AND I ADORE ALL OF YOU THAT ARE KIND ENOUGH TO HIT THAT BUTTON AND HELP ME GET MY WORK OUT THERE FOR OTHERS TO FIND. ❤️

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Inside of You

5714 words. Rated Mature for sexually explicit content, so stay away if that isn't your jam.

While joining Five for family night at his brother's house, he treats you to much more than you expected of your evening, ending the night by leaving you feeling more loved than you ever thought was possible.

Warnings and simple more summary: Smutty smut, Cockwarming, Dom Five, cocky Five and sweet vulnerable Five, s4 setting-assuming that all that sort of went down only with a twist in brief mention that Five in the end saved the day (because he's the man of course and I can't do it any other way, also Lila and Five never got stuck in the subway-so no worries on triggers for that-pretending that didn't happen, this one's all about you and Five 😉

The Boy

Created for an Anon request (rated mature for explicit sexual content)

Warnings: 18-yr old Five, Lots of Smut, Five being soft and also not, CIA setting but with none of the other things happening from season 4

Anonymous asked:

will you do one or just some scenes with Five being soft with a girl he's falling for? Like first kiss stuff or other more intimate things between them? Or any stuff with him letting his guard down for someone for the first time- not with Lila please. Explicit or not explicit. Anything like this. Ty:⁠-⁠*

Note~This quarter end treat is broken into 5 parts of smutty progression-Your Welcome😂 (18193 words)

Please Hold me

~A one-shot reader request, rated General, 5780 words, This one for the sake of being different is Season 3 Five and his family, Mega Whump with no warnings other than panic attacks and traumatic flashbacks of the apocalypse

Summary: Set at the beginning of season 3, the pain that had been inflicted on Five mentally and physically up until this point comes to a head. Little did Five know, when the truth comes out and he finally breaks, he is going to get the love and support he was dying for all along.

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Amor Fati ~ A Five Hargreeves Sad, Soft, and Arousing Season 4, ABC’s Headcannon Story

(Five X Female reader insert, rated E for sexually Explicit content-see above or full story on A03 here. Originally done as another headcanon request but this one is a full story too.)

Broken but breathing. Longing for something that always felt just out of his reach, Five was not okay.

With fates forever intertwined, a train, and a smile he would never forget, once again, the impossible became his reality, but like always, not without tragedy.

In the end, all that mattered are the people Five loved. For them, he would do anything.

(Warnings and Tags: Rated R for sexually explicit content, Hurt Number Five, Alternate S4, Whump, Mental Break Down, Self-Doubt, Angst-humor-love, Uncle Five, The Deli Fives, Starts with Five in a very dark place, Not the end the show gave us.)

Worlds Collide -Five Hargreeves X 6 separate Female reader inserts

A steaming hot and humorous deli Five story, and An Ode To All The Fives We’ve Loved Before.

Written by: @badkitty3000 and me, @kaybreezy3000

(Rated Mature for Sexually Explicit Content, 6976 words)

Note: All six reader inserts in this one were inspired by characters we wrote in our other stories about Five. But if you haven't read any of these stories, you can still easily enjoy this one. If you find that you want a little more of Five and any one of these lovelies, links will be provided at the end.

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Looking for Happy

Hilariously simple but true summary: Five Hargreeves is sad and horny, and all he wants is you. (Don't worry, I will take you a little emotional rollercoaster that's not all the dirty-dirty 😂👍)

(Reader is post-top surgery and pre-bottom surgery.)

(Rated E for explicit sexual content. 18900k words. Anon request for a Five X male or Five X ftm pairing.)

Content Warnings and additional tags: Dom Five and some Sub Five, small 'Scream' movie add in per anon's personal love of the movie with sexy Billy and Stu, light praise kink, daddy kink, rough sex, choking, spanking, public sex, Five being sweet, Five being a cocky jerk, masturbation mentions, flirting)

NOTE: This story takes place during season four and after it, using a series of flashbacks, so it moves between past and present several times. Also, this was obviously written before season 4 came out, with an alternate season 4 ending written my way. It has lots of season 4 trailer and interview mentions to make it more fun and hopefully tie in a little with the real season 4.

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Five Hargreeves Dirty Headcanon ABC's

(Rated M for sexually explicit content, 5438 words, the last one for Z is sort of a mini story for you to enjoy. This list explores Five and his relationship with 'you' while taking a small dive into his very complicated psyche and looking at some of the reasons why he is the way he is. This is written with 'you' as anyone-not male or female specific.)

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He Who Holds The Power~(rated Teen and Up or General) (10,409 words)(alt season 4 story with ending)(Not a Romance- reader insert style that lets anyone be the 'you' character) (original Five cover art painting made by me and a little photoshop story insert to make it more fun)(real friendship and healing)

This one is a little season 4 teaser short story I dreamed up that gives us a look inside Five's world both before he jumped to the apocalypse and post season 3.

~~~~~~~~It all begins and ends with Five....

warnings: mild description/mention of child abuse, and signs of panic attack, potential trigger by mention of bombing a building

tags: not romance, whump, fluff, trauma, heartbreak, love, revenge, forgiveness, Mr. Pennycrumb, all the Hargreeves and some of our new character mentions from season 4, Five deserves better, Klaus is awesome, You x Five, reader insert, Five is amazing and with this one you get to imagine yourself a part of his story/future be it as a friend or whatever you want to imagine👍

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Under Your Hat~ (rated M/Explicit for sexual content but you can still read this and enjoy it by skipping those parts using the ⚠️ symbol in the story for start and stop points.) (9827 words)

You never know what kind of trouble you might find if you put yourself out there and speak your mind, and tonight, that kind of trouble is Five Hargreeves.

~Set post season three. (the 5ish years later thing) Five is older, but still struggling with life and you happen to find yourself at a party with him.

Warnings: explicit sexual content, rough sex, spanking, daddy kink, humiliation play, and Five pretty much being the sweet and sexy guy I like to think he is under that hat.

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'Hargreeves Home for Wayward Boys ~(rated G since you can easily skip the sexually explicit parts and still enjoy the story. There is a clear point to stop if you are avoiding that stuff 👍) (8711 words)

~Five is your employer and he's not happy with you. As the night unfolds, you have a very unexpected encounter with him...

~This story takes place where we left off with season three, but 5 years later. The name is a nod to hints of what might be coming, though I doubt the Netflix writers are going with my little storyline I have created for you.

~This one is sort of gift to all fanfiction readers and writers. May you always keep passwords on our documents and devices, or maybe not... 😂👌

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'Free at Last' - a short, general rated, image based/comic book style story blip of Dolores and Five

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‘Bad Things’

Five Hargreeves/Reader Insert (rated explicit for sexual content)(Dark and very messed up version of Five mixed with some ideas from the comic books, submissive Five, mental issues, making huge mistakes and overcoming past trauma,)(see story for specific tags) (49,996 words)

Summary:

~Psychopathy is a neuropsychiatric disorder marked by deficient emotional responses, lack of empathy, the inability to distinguish between right and wrong, poor behavioral controls, and behaviors that contradict social norms which then commonly result in persistent antisocial deviance and criminal behavior. Enter, Five Hargreeves, everyone's favorite little psycho. Having been left in a new world with nothing, his mental state growing more and more dangerous, Five Hargreeves finds something he feels will keep him from going off the deep end, but just like in so many things he thinks that are wrong, the fact that he thinks this already proves he has.

Full Summary and Chapter One and Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five, Six, and Seven

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‘The Anti Hero’s Pitfall of Arrogance’

Five Hargeeves/Female OC (rated explicit for sexual content-see AO3 version for the Teen and up version)(starts when the Hargreeves are sixteen so that changes the timeline from the show a bit, but it still follows cannon material fairly closely)(see story for specific tags) (44,599 words)

Chapter One and Two

Chapter Three and Four

Chapter Five, Six, and Seven

AO3 Teen and up Version

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‘In The Flesh’

Five Hargreeves/Reader Insert (rated G) (5337 words) (special request based off an extended scene from 'The Anti Hero’s Pitfall of Arrogance.’)(meant to be dark and very disturbing but with a heart filled message that is very Five. )

Link to 'In The Flesh’

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'The Devil Within’

Five Hargreeves/Reader Insert (rated explicit for sexual content) (This one is the smuttiest Five fiction I have ever written so there is no way to avoid those parts) (see story for specific tags but I leave many off to keep you surprised as you read) (23,134 words)

Chapter One and Two

Chapters Three and Four

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Paramour (The Umbrella Academy 3-part series)-Rated Teen because you can skip the many sexually explicit parts or potential triggers with chapter warnings and detailed end notes for what you missed in those parts. It's a love story but about 85% or more of this story is really about healing and focuses on Five but features a lot of all the Hargreeves and even the Sparrows in part 2 and 3.

-If you love Five and long rollercoaster ride stories that you can get lost in than this is a great read for you.

Five’s POV and centered on him, but it has all the Hargreeves and Female OC love interest, stays very true to cannon themes and for Character’s personalities.

- See specific tags per-story on A03

Part One: 'Number Five and the Girl  (227,442 words) (Starts pre-season one, age 16, coming of age angst, humor, sexual activity and trauma)

Part Two: 'Infinity’ (417,307 words) (Starts right at start of season three but not a show rewrite, and full of shockers and fun and angst and fluff and plenty of explicit fun)

Part Three: 'Oblivion’ (152,100 words) (Hurt Five and Sexy Five galore, my version season four finale)

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'No More the Victim’  

(132,130 words) (rated E-🏳️‍🌈trans female pairing-see tags in AO3) (Five in a very dark place/hurt/comfort/redemption)

Starts after very dark post Season Three but does get much lighter, angst, first-time, finding yourself, revenge, unexpected romance, sub/dom, sexual humor, overcoming tragedy. seeing yourself and others with openness and love, Five’s time travel fix-it optional finale to the show. 

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My co-authored works with Bad_Kitty

Link to all Bad_Kitty’s private works on AO3)

'The Text Mess’ (5576 words) (rated Teen and up) (Five and Klaus)

A text-based format story done with actual textboxes and phones to make it more fun. Not a love story/romance. Full of hilarious images, sexual humor, Five is Five and Klaus is Klaus in this make you laugh and get the feels short story. Takes place in a blip in time post season three.

'Sharp Dressed Man’  (5514 words) (rated Explicit for sexual content)

Five and his lady love Vivian one shot based off of Bad_Kitty’s Halo Series-see link above. Humor based, sexy Five doing his sexy daddy thing. Christmas time story with a few of the other Hargreeves. Closet sexy craziness.

'When Number Five Steps out, He’s Gonna Do you In’ (8730 words, rated Explicit for sexual content)

The sequel one-shot to 'Sharp Dressed Man.’ Sexual humor, frustrated Five doing New Years things with the family. Lots of feels, sexy Five, a few of the fam, daddy Five getting it done and checking his naughty list off for the year. 

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My Art Featuring Number Five (TUA)

To view my Five art features on Tumblr hit this link

For stuff not on Tumbler see Original Five art from my various works  at this link (rated General)

Hand drawn sketches, graphic art in later chapters. 

[sugarpasteltmnt]

I've been compleatly OBSSESED with neon void so far!!! It's by far my favorite fic of any I've read!! After every chapter I have to take a second to do the happy stimmies because you write all of the scenes so well. Whenever I see a new update I clear the next hour for reading it and the subsequent geek out sesion for how AMAZING it always is. You write extremely well, you convey the characters so acurately, the fight scenes are creative, the way you write Leo's perspective is AMAZING, love the font changes, the angst PALPABLE, and just over all I love everything you're able to do with this concept. The way you can see Leo's mental state deteriorating through out the fic is just *chefs kiss*. There's so much I love about the fic that I can't possibly list everything.

Also the established difference between teleporting and portaling is so great, it adds to the pure panic that void causes for the boys aside from, y'know, crazy dude capable of beating Big Mama within an inch of her life and STRAIGHT UP OFFING a buch of other yokai. It does wonders for establishing him as a threat even though he technically isn't for the turtles. Plus I'm sure that once they find out who Void really is, it will add a bunch of tension since they'll need to stop Leo from literally SCATTERING HIS ATOMS ACROSS SPACE.

AND THE CHAPTER PREVIEW ISTG I've never gotten so much serotonin from being in this much pain ;0; The gif is perfect to set the mood, I can't wait to see what happens. You're ablility to choose just the right thing to stab so many people directly through the heart is nothing short of super-natural. BUT PLEASE give the boi some happiness, if not for his sake, for mine-

ANYWAYS this is all a VERY long way of saying, I absolutely love this and I had to draw the silly boi being the silly boi. I needed to draw him happy for the health of my heart ;-; (don't worry though, I'm working on some tasty angst right now)

Can't wait to see where everything goes, GOOD LUCK TO CASEY but there only six chapters left so we're getting to the end game now >:D

Please have a wonderful rest of your week :D

THANK U SO MUCH ;w; I’m so so happy that my fight scenes are followable/enjoyable, and tho they are a binch to code I’m so happy you enjoy the funky fonts and formatting ;w; i know reading blocks of text can be intimidating/tiring for readers, so i try to break it up to help with the pacing and sprinkle in some fun, spooky fonts as treats 🩵

Something i really, REALLY loved about Rise was the fights. Not only was the animation amazing, but it was always so creative. I try my best to make the fight scenes as silly as the boys can be, while utilizing their adaptive skills to use their surroundings to their advantage.

And bruh trying to balance Leo’s insanity in a believable way has been such a (fun) challenge so it makes me so happy to hear you like it 😭🥺 and I’m so glad people seem to like the ‘teleportation’ gimmick I’ve got going on (and that it hopefully makes sense omg)

(And i will admit I’m a little proud of my chapter previews because they are so fun to write, and i like to reassure readers that 1) i have a plan and 2) I’m keeping myself accountable to finish LOL)

Also aksdlaskdhaksdh thank u for this art this part especially is SENDING ME WHEEZE 🤣🩵❗️

[nitrowyverine]

I think I write dating sim/VNs/etc reviews now? Anyway,

LOST IN LIMBO REVIEW/THOUGHTS

This VN piqued my interest, so I gave the demo a shot! This review will follow the same general format as my Obscura/Touchstarved review, except there's 7 (!!!) romance options.

Since I totally loved this game, I'm going to put the conclusion promo up here too: if Lost in Limbo interests you, consider playing it Here, Here on steam, and/or backing it Here!

ALSO! THIS REVIEW CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR THE DEMO!

My (long winded) thoughts are below:

(Banner image courtesy of the Ravenstar Games tumblr account pinned post. Individual character pics courtesy of tumblr posts from the studio. Individual posts are linked in character titles.)

Gameplay design thoughts:

the plot immediately sucked me in, I'm pretty invested in whatever the hell is going on with the protag, the realms, the lords, etc. I think the setup/land are deep enough to draw me in, but not so intimidating in it's depth that I'm afraid to explore more.

I always enjoy a little bit of nightmare fuel in my games, so the voidbound are perfect. They're so gross and horrible, but not just a stock zombie/nightmare creature design. Whenever the voidbound pop up, it makes the back of my neck itch, which is perfect.

I have no idea whose route I'll pick first. Usually I have one candidate that I can pick out as number 1. This game however? I go back and forth all the time, since I love all of them. I do think I have bias for Ara/Gael/Amon/Envy, maybe?

I really want to design an MC to doodle for this, but I feel like I don't know enough about other people in the realm. (Mostly, I'm assuming that standard humans don't have pointy ears? how close to our reality is the regular world?) I might say "screw it" and design an MC anyway (with some speculative clothing for once they get cleaned up)

The backgrounds have been great set pieces so far. Sometimes I catch myself just kinda staring into space at them. They've got a fantastic flavor.

Misc. Thoughts written during a replay

Fun touch to have Evie's rock image from the beginning fortune shop scene line up with the 7 LI's color schemes.

Each of the VA's does a lovely job with their voices. I've been turned off of certain dating sims because of bad voice acting, but the acting in this game is superb so far. It really helps set the richness of the story.

I have a theory that the LI's (and possibly people in Limbo in general) experience pain differently. The characters seem largely uninterested in the MC's stabbed, weakened state, beyond a "Oh that sucks....we'll clean you up later" mentality. I wonder if they have different pain tolerances, or are just less attached to such things. (Then again, Amon and Raeya have full missing limbs/eyes, so they probably have a decent perspective on pain altogether)

What does wielder/non-wielder mean? Xal says the MC "Can't wield, can't see." What do the LI's see that we don't? Ara mentions that the MC seems "Completely normal". Many mysteries.

I need those monster forms like crazy oh my goodness. Please devs PLEASE SHOW THE MONSTER FORMS

Now, to the lovely love interests!

Amon

WHO LET THIS MAN BE OVER 7 FEET TALL? PRIDE YOU HAVE SOME EXPLAINING TO DO

I only just noticed he also has a few freckles, *chefs kiss* (Waaaiit do all of them have little freckle skin textures??? Oh this is a glorious day.)

It's hard not to love a big friendly guy. I was honestly relieved when he first showed up, because I did Envy's route first, and I was thrilled to see a friendly face in the big dark scary woods.

This does not mean, however, that I'm not excited to see what this guy turns into when he's mad.

I like that he has pity for MC when they first show up, but I do worry it makes his resolve weaker. I'm not as confident that he could handle society/reality breaking down as well as the others. Can he put aside his affable nature for when shit hits the fan?

Question: What level of fight had to happen for Amon to lose his eye? He's already huge, and has some sort of telekinetic powers. My theory is that he was taken by surprise, maybe by someone close to him.....(Envy I'm looking at you)

RIP Amon you would have loved Hawaiian shirts

Conclusion: Most likely to be the camp counselor who hurts his back from always giving piggy back rides. Least likely to keep his composure during a badly timed pun/dad joke.

Raeya

I'm fighting for my life whenever shes on screen good LORD

Similarly to Amon, I GOTTA know the story behind her prosthetic arm. Its so rad looking, but how did she lose a whole arm? (I am also considering that she was also not born with one)

Playing the demo again, she makes a specific comment about the monsters having not "infected a limb" of the MC. My bet is that's how she lost her arm.

I wish I could have spent 1:1 time with her, but it wasn't offered in the demo. I'd love to have like, a sit down discussion with her about history. (Well I'd be fine getting lectured about history and drinking tea and hanging out)

Out of everyone's motivations, I think I understood Raeya's the most. Even if she was against MC, I think her concerns are completely valid. If an alien fell out of the sky from a different reality to earth I'd ALSO be taking every precaution

She and Amon have matching ear chains, that's adorable....

I hope I can take her on a nice date and spoil her and let her relax in the full game, pretty please. Nothing bad will happen right???

Conclusion: Most likely to gently remind the waiter that you said NO pickles with your order, thank you very much. Least likely to admit to being the one who farted in a crowded room.

Envy

every other line from him is "UGGGHHH" and i love that for them.

After playing, I think I've finally realized that I've got a soft spot for grumps. just grumpy lil friends with their pouty faces

I want (vivi's) Envy's nails SO BAD. I need him to do my nails because theirs are perfect. Envy, envy PLEASE

They pretend not to care, but are already getting attached to the MC by the end of the demo. I can't wait to see what they're like when they actually DO get attached

Elephant in the room, what could he have possibly done to get himself demoted so severely? Everyone seems to be fine with him being demoted except Amon, who sheepishly vouches for him when he can.

I just wanna wrap him in a blanket burrito like you do with a spicy kitten. and then give him little smooches

Conclusion: Most likely to be they guy who gets one drink at a party and sits in the corner with the dog/cat all night. Least likely to allow their partner to willingly boop their nose with any regularity.

Pride

Old man yells at cloud? No....old man IS cloud.

The dev's tumblr has mentioned that he's a pathetic old man, but for now at least, I am afraid of his authority and power. since hes like. yaknow. the big god of this world

The VA did some fabulous work for his voice. I definitely got actual chills in certain parts. 10/10

Okay, so WHAT is this guy's deal with mirrors? He looks great, why is he worried about it. I sincerely doubt he's just 52 though, if he's a god. (as a note for all these interests, I have a feeling that the ages are their physical ages, and not their actual ages. Or at least, age relative to ours. I think they're much older in our years than in their years.)

We also didn't get any 1:1 time with Pride in the demo, so I'm fascinated to see what alone time with Pride would be like. Is he quiet? a chatterbox? Just a guy??? does he only play piano and not talk to you. (power move)

Conclusion: Most likely to show up WAY over-prepared for Parent-Teacher conferences. Least likely to understand and survive the cinnamon challenge.

Ara

Certified CUTIE PIE

We got a pretty clear demonstration of everyone's powers in the demo, except for Ara. Unless it was too subtle for me to realize, I'm not actually sure what her cool powers are yet.

If she DOESN'T have plant powers I'd be very surprised.

I keep wanting to think things like "I have to protect her" or "keep her safe at all costs". But then I remember she's likely absolutely terrifying, and I honestly should be actually afraid for anyone who gets in her way.

I would like to remind/inform everyone that so far, she is the only member of the cast who is visibly armed at all times. (Raeya doesn't count even if her arm claws look really really sharp.)

If I have to pick anyone to party with, it's probably Ara. I know she'd throw an absolute rager, but would also make sure you stay hydrated. I wanna hold her hand too. Please?

I'll go butch for her, i'll do it if thats what she wants. I'm weak

Conclusion: Most likely to be able convince you to give her your kidney. Least likely to let you skip a bloodthirsty game of monopoly because you "Have a headache"

Gael

where did he find pants long enough for him.

Okay. So its HIS fault that Amon has the deepest V-cut since time immemorial. Do you think Amon and Gael had an extensive argument about the minimum amount of clothes Amon has to wear at any given time? Because I do.

His powers certainly did not. Awaken anything in me. Nope.

he has the shortest and most perfect arc from stranger -> friendly -> ???? -> BETRAYAL

I am MASSIVELY curious about his dissociation/spacing out during the demo. He was 8 million miles away in the tower for some reason, and I HAVE to find out why. I just KNOW this man is doing some questionable shit with good intentions and I can't wait to find out what it is.

So, he has SOME issue with touch. No idea what it is, but I can't wait to find out what it is. Also noting he's the only one with full-coverage gloves in the cast. Interesting...

Conclusion: Most likely to cry after being sent those sad FB/insta animal stories. Least likely to let you open your own car/carriage/etc door under any circumstances.

Xal

He looks so soft. I have to bully him, in a good way. (Like grim from Date with Death)

I am fascinated as to why he would lie for MC. That's such a great hook to his character. What does a guy who so desperately wants to be left alone have to see to stick his neck out for a stranger?

SOMEONE get this man a NINTENDO DS POST HASTE

THIS GAME HAS TO GET FUNDED BECAUSE XAL SAYS HE HAS A CAT AND I WANT TO SEE IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I will do it, I will be the one to tuck him in when he is too eepy. I will carry him to bed and kiss his little head good night

Wait, if he can "Figure something out" by touching it, he could be like, the worlds greatest doctor. Xal please get off the couch and help me diagnose mystery ailments in a medical sitcom

Conclusion: Most likely to injure himself rigging up a Rue Goldberg machine to scratch his back. Least likely take it easy on you once he learns how to play super smash bros. (He's a fox/falco main)

Concerns:

What the Ravenstar team has already been able to accomplish is incredible. I'm worried that with 7 whole love interests (with a possible two more on the way if the kickstarter goes well), i'm worried the devs are taking on a whole lot of work. I think they're fully capable of taking this on, but I hope they don't burn themselves out in the process.

I'm pretty happy to see the kickstarter is moving along, but there's always the chance that something happens, and/or the kickstarter goal isn't met. BY THE TIME I FINISHED WRITING THIS IT GOT FUNDED LETS GOO!!! I still hope this project makes it all the way to completion beyond the kickstarter. Things can always happen, so Ive got my fingers crossed for the Ravenstar team!

OVERALL CONCLUSION:

I loved the demo, and I have now backed the project! The team is trying to hit stretch goals now, so share Lost in Limbo with your buddies! I crave content for this game like nothing else.

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

dynasty

pairing: jake sully x neytiri x female omatikaya!reader

WC: 2.3K

warnings: pure heartbreak. not sure on the rules for the funeral process so i of course just made stuff up.

summary: it all fell down

A/N: fic inspired by this heartbreaking edit and also the deleted scene of jake and neytiri cleaning neteyam and jake starts to shed tears. my own gif (why does it change the format to a small square to the side?)

will do a part2 of mom!reader and neteyam in the spirit tree (if anyone wants one of course..,might still do one. we’ll just wait and see)

@alecmores my editor💗

been in the drafts since april 20

masterlist / jake sully

It was like your world was just thrown off its axis, everything became off balance.

The waters were choppy, crashing and biting at your boulder, another thing trying to knock you off your feet and drown you in pain. Eclipse was high in the sky, and everything was shadowed in darkness as if the whole world disappeared after his death. His last breath took the last shine of light from Pandora, took the calm, and brought the storm.

Your heaving cries drowned out the noise around you, they mixed with Neytiri’s wails of eternal heartbreak. Your hands clutched Neteyam’s limp hand beside you, his knuckles cutting into your cheek as you waited with bated breath for just a simple squeeze, just a sign to show he was still breathing and holding on. But it never came, his touch was cold and lifeless, and his soul had left the physical plane.

Your blurred eyes flitted around at your company. Lo’ak beside you with his head down and staring at his bloody hands, he probably felt Neteyam’s heart slowing down and stopping. Tsireya at Neteyam’s legs, her hands holding his calf and she rocked her body as she silently cried at the loss of a new friend, Spider standing behind her. Neytiri was on the other side of Neteyam as she thrashed and roared, her wet pleas to the Great Mother, asking her why, why her son. And Jake, Jake who stared into the open space, body motionless and eyes numbed before they squinted in the distance and his head looked away to the lone demon ship.

“Lo’ak… where’re your sisters.” His hoarse voice caused a shiver down your spine. Your time of grieving stopped as you looked for Kiri and Tuk, neither sat anywhere on the giant rock with your family.

“Lo’ak,” your voice wobbled as you turned to him and touched his cheek, needing his undivided attention, “where are Kiri and Tuk?”

“They-” “Where are your sisters!” Lo’ak flinched at Jake’s raised voice, his eyes watering.

“They were on the ship.” Tsireya hiccuped.

You and Jake looked at the vessel, its stability looked off as it tilted in the thrashing waves. The both of you shared a look, you knew what needed to be done and quickly. Jake moved to Neytiri and wrapped her shaking body into his arms, his chest solid against her shaking back. You walked to your two loves, one who was in visible distress while the other was walled off at the moment. You had to shut your emotions down seeing as your girls were in danger and you weren’t losing another child tonight.

“‘Tiri, oeyä yawnetu (my loved one). Our ‘ites (daughters) are in danger, we must save them. They will not meet the same fate as our Neteyam.” Your hands cupped her cheeks, her hazed eyes staring into yours. You gave a kiss to her forehead before turning to the children, giving Jake a moment to break her daze.

As you did with Neytiri, you knelt before Lo’ak and held his face in your grasp. You looked into the eyes of your youngest son, the one who held the most qualities with Jake physically and his reckless behavior when he was younger. Tears slipped down your cheeks, you couldn’t bear to part ways from him, but he would be safe away from the remaining sky people.

“I need you to stay here with Tsireya. Do not come to the ship, it is dangerous and I- I- we could not bear it if something happened to you or your tsmukes (sisters). Wait for us to return.”

“But I-” “No!” You leaned your foreheads together, shutting your eyes closed and holding back the tears, “Please, Lo’ak. Just- just listen this once.” Your voice cracked at the end, and the thought of something happening to him fashed over your mind. “Please, do it for us, for Neteyam.”

You felt his head nodding at your pleading words. A ragged breath was released at the simple action. “Oel ngati kameie, ma ‘evi (I see you, my child)” A lingering kiss to his forehead before you pulled away and joined Neytiri on her ikran.

-

The sun shone high in the sky.

A new day has risen, but you weren’t awakened to shouts and cheers of childish glee. You weren’t held in the warm embrace of your lovers, their scents and gentleness didn’t invade your five senses. You weren’t being bombarded with tickles or bodies jumping atop you, pushing the air from your lungs.

No. You were back on the boulder with your whole family, Tsireya and Spider included. Kiri and Tuk were safe, Lo’ak was safe, Neytiri and Jake were safe and you were safe. The adrenaline of the situation has worn off, you weren’t in a life-or-death moment anymore, and the water has stilled. So with shaky legs, you walked back to the lifeless body of your eldest son, not by blood, but by love- by family. His chest was cleaned of his dried blood, a courtesy done presumably by Tsireya, the poor girl was probably traumatized from the pain and bloodshed that her tribe never had to experience before. You collapsed on his left side, watching as Neytiri held his head to her chest, her lips speaking into his hair or leaving kisses on his temple. Tuk sat beside her, her smaller hands holding Neteyam’s right one to her cheek. Her tiny cries break your heart, cracks forming with each hitch to her breathing.

Your own hands reached for his free left hand, it just lay lifelessly on the rocky ground. You touched each finger individually, and felt his palm, before bringing it to your lips and leaving ghostly kisses on the skin. You lay his knuckles against your chest, right where your heart beats. Needing to bite hard into your lip to hold back the cries and pleas, only silent tears show your physical pain. Bringing his hand back to your lips you whispered words wishing he could hear them.

“I love you, oeyä fkew tsamsiyu (my mighty warrior). You were our first blessing as a family and we could not be more proud.”

“Paskalin (honey).” Jake’s touch and voice pulled you away from slipping. You looked over your shoulder and into his solemn eyes, his face covered in cuts and scars. “Jake…” your lips wobbled into a frown, vision blurring with fresh tears, “I- I-” He shushed you, hands gently pushing your face into his neck, his lips caressing your skin.

“We have to get back to the village.” He muttered in your downturned ear. All you could do was nod and hold Neteyam’s hand tighter.

-

“We must begin preparations for his funeral. Jake and Neytiri will cleanse his body.”

You stepped up, “I am his mother as well, I will help.” Ronal kept her back to the three of you for a second before turning on her heels, a sharp look pointed your way, “he is not your biological child, he did not grow in you. This is-” “He was my son! I do not care about blood! If you will not allow me to join my mates as they- as we bid our goodbyes to Neteyam in the Cove of Ancestors, I should be allowed to help prepare his body before we part ways.”

You always held respect for the leaders of tribes, but will not let something as simple as different blood be the reason you aren’t given proper treatment within your family. You were with Neytiri as she announced her news to Jake, you were with her as she went into labor and you had been with Neteyam since he took his first breath of air in the world. He was your child and you lost him when you were still getting to know him.

“Please Ronal. Let us have this one piece if she can’t guide him to the Great Mother.” Jake’s voice was firm but held a begging tone that was obvious.

Her sharp eyes darted between the three of you, her tight shoulders sagging just a bit. You knew the three of you looked disheveled, with puffy eyes and tear streaks over your cheeks. Body ready to cave in from an invisible weight held on your shoulders. Eyes staring into an empty void.

“Fine. Now come, there is much to do.” Her walking resumed, the three of you just behind.

She walked into a mauri pod, bowls of water and woven twine were set to the side. You stopped when your breathing faltered once again at the sight of Neteyam, just lying peacefully on the floor with his eyes closed and arms beside his torso. He looked like he was just sleeping, enjoying dreams of whatever he wanted most from his life. If you didn’t look close enough you could imagine his chest moving with every breath he took, but you did stare and his chest sat still, not a twitch of his fingers or a tickle of his nose.

With jagged steps you stalked further in the pod, knees bending under the weight of your grief and you toppled to a stop beside his legs. Hands touching his lower leg and knee, his skin was cold to the touch causing a sob from your lips. You bent your head and curled in on yourself, letting the tears flow and the weeps free.

Your son was dead.

Arms pulled your back into a solid chest and a second pair of hands tenderly caressed your face and lips leaving sweeps of kisses over your trembling form. The hands holding your face turned you towards them, your eyes meeting the hollowed look of Neytiri. Her face was devoid of emotions, with no scowl or smile on her lips that you loved to indulge in, no furrow to her brows, or crinkles to her eyes. She was just empty and tired, heartbroken.

“Ma tìyawn (my love), we must begin. We need to clean him.” Her thumbs swiped over your wet cheeks. You could only stare back into her eyes and swallow your cries before you nodded your head. Jake’s arms slipped from your shaking body and you walked away to grab a bowl of water and a rag.

You sat on your hunches and soaked the cloth. With a shuddering breath, you closed your eyes for a moment to collect yourself and when you opened them you shut down. You rang the cloth to dispel the excess water and when you were satisfied, the material touched his shoulder and you wiped the dirt off his skin. Neytiri soon joined the process, sat on the other side of Neteyam’s shoulder and she tipped a bowl over his skin, her eyes following the liquid.

From the corner of your eye, you saw Jake sitting next to Neteyam’s legs on your side. He ran his cloth gently over his skin, it reminded you of when he was a child and Jake would wash his body in the pond near your mauri. You dipped the rag into the water again and rung it out, the water starting to get muddy with grime. You moved your work to his face.

You leaned your body at an angle with your right arm holding you up as you used your left hand to swipe the rag over his stilled features. He looked so much like Neytiri, he was so much like Neytiri. Fierce and protective, a strong warrior. Gentle and friendly, reserved mostly but will pounce when intimidated. He would have made a glorious Olo’eyktan if he chose the path. You wish he could have been given more time to live as a child, not have to worry about battlefields or have a constant eye on his roaming siblings.

With a final swipe to his brow, you gave a teary smile at your boy.

You looked up at Neytiri. Her eyes were closed as her head was tilted to the ceiling, hands resting on her thighs. There was a crinkle between her brows that you wanted to smooth over with your finger or a kiss, but before you could do either, choked whimpers drifted into your ears.

Jake was hunched over Neteyam’s legs, his locs hiding his face, but you saw the shake to his shoulders. He was crying.

Without a second thought, you joined his side, arms wrapping over his shoulders as you pushed his head into your chest with your chin sitting on his head. His arms circled your waist and held you tight as his tears fell to your skin. You shut your eyes as a fresh wave came upon you, the salty drops splashing your cheeks.

“Oh, ma Jake.”

“I‘ve failed him. I’ve failed my job as a father.” His lips grazed your skin as he spoke harshly of himself.

A deep furrow to your brows at his self-derivation, “No, no. You have done no such thing. It is those sky demons who have forced this fighting onto us. You have been doing your best at keeping us, our family safe.” You burrowed your noses into his hair and gave quick kisses in succession, “Do not let our son's death be in vain. He would not want you to use his passing as an excuse for harshness on yourself.”

Your hand caressed the back of his head with the other settled between his shoulder blades, the muscles moving with each hitch to his breath. You squeezed your eyes closed once again and just breathed, focused on your breathing and Jake’s. One the silent crashing of the water surrounding the mauri and picking up what quiet hiccups of Neytiri.

You weren’t sure how long you were frozen in that position, the scene not changing. All you know is eventually Jake’s cries were subdued and then Ronal entered the space in a different outfit. All your eyes were on her as her head was held high, but her eyes were gentle.

“It is time.”

...

tags: @singular-itae

[gay-disabled-characters-showdown]

LGBTQ+ Disabled Characters Showdown Round 2, Wave 3, Poll 2

A character being totally canon LGBTQ+ and disabled was not required to be in this competition. Please check qualifications and propaganda before asking why a character is included.

Check out the other polls in this wave and prior here.

Chu Sangwoo-Semantic Error

Qualifications/Propaganda:

hey this is just a little more info on Chu Sangwoo (obvs you don't have to include him if you don't want to but I'd figure I'd send some more stuff in) (I also don't think I submitted him? but I know who he is) So there's a manhwa (Korean webcomic) and a tv series (I'm personally more familiar with the tv series). Basically, he's very strongly coded as autistic, though it's never explicitly stated (though in the manhwa I believe they mention that he has some unspecified disorder).So here's a list of some of the things he does in the series that are why people say he's autistic-coded:

meticulously organized and adheres to a strict schedule he set for himself

struggles when things happen that he didn't predict beforehand/throws a wrench into his plans

is very blunt, gets labeled as antisocial/being like a machine, and struggles with understanding other's social cues

practices saying things so that he won't come off as insincere

creates his own systems to accomplish tasks and struggles to work in unfamiliar environments/environments with lots of distractions

views life very logically and doesn't like it when things happen that break his rules of logic

wishes he could format his brain so he wouldn't have to deal with confusing and unnecessary feelings

There's others but that's a few of the main ones.Anyways here's a little clip from the series that hopefully helps add more context? https://youtu.be/Mai2WvTpIv8 And anyways if you still decide to not include him, that's fine, but I'd figure that I'd send y'all some more info just in case! Excited for th bracket regardless!!!

Chu Sangwoo is canonically gay, the series is a gay romance & he falls for Jaeyoung, who's the complete opposite of him personality wise. Hence the title- semantic 'error' since attraction wasn't expected. It's a really good series and Chu Sangwoo is realistic and well-written (speaking as a fellow queer autistic).

Elim Garak-Star Trek: Deep Space Nine

Qualifications:

He has PTSD due to child abuse, as well as a painkiller addiction due to a brain implant. He is also extremely gay. Like literally everybody who watches DS9 immediately understands this about him. He was explicitly played by his actor, Andy Robinson, as attracted to Julian Bashir, and his only heterosexual romance is truly painful to witness. Andrew Robinson has also said that he has had a one-night stand with Dukat, one of the main villains of DS9 and noted lizard nazi. Do with that what you will. His closest relationship onscreen by far is with Julian.

Propaganda:

This man. There is a reason so many people are obsessed with him. Former spy, current tailor, forever an incurable bitch. Guilty of many war crimes, including onscreen attempted genocide. Once intentionally blew up his own tailor shop (with him in it) because he didn't want to ask for help with something. In his very first scene on the show, he wears an shirt that strongly resembles a watermelon, propositions Julian Bashir, and leaves while canonically high on painkillers. He has PTSD due to child abuse at the hands of the head of the space lizard KGB, who is also his dad, and a painkiller addiction due to a brain implant he has to help him withstand torture. He tortures a main character in one episode, and then a few episodes later they start having regular breakfasts together. Once got high on Space Weed and started systematically murdering people while making ominous announcements about chess over the PA system. The Most Character Ever.

Anything Else?:

He once told Julian to eat his rod. It was about a futuristic USB stick (datarod) but he still very much said it.

Submitted by @convenient-plot-device

[littlethingsinlife]

Happier

A/N: I had this idea while I was listening to some music and I guess I was feeling some type of way. P.s. I couldn’t find a clearer picture (rn my source of pics is pinterest lol). A little bit of a warning, I’m INCREDIBLY rusty when it comes to writing as I haven’t done it in awhile. This songfic is inspired by Olivia Rodrigo’s “happier” but it doesn’t really follow the lyrics word for word. Anyway I’m really hoping that it’s not hard to read. I hope you enjoy~

Pairing(s): Lo’ak x Tsireya, Past Lo’ak x Omaticayan!Reader 

Warning(s): None :DD Except for the writer is REALLY rusty when it comes to writing fanfic. The formatting might be a little wonky cause I copied and pasted from google doc. 

Word Count: 4,990 

More Info: The same old trope where the reader is orphaned and was taken in by the Sully’s which is why there were no questions asked she’s coming with. Also the storyline is not really in chronological order with what happened in the actual movie. There will be scenes pulled from the movie but placed where I think it would fit the best :’D

Summary: Traveling with the Sully’s to Awa’atlu was supposed to bring comfort and dissipate the fears of losing your loved one, not break your heart in two.

Part 2: i’m sorry

Key: 

(Y/N) = Your Name 

Lyrics = Bolded Italics 

Flashbacks = Italics

Na’vi Words: 

Yimkxa - Banshee Catcher 

Txe’lan - Heart

Uturu - Tradition of granting refugees sanctuary  

Marui - Pods where the clan live

Tsaheylu - Bond 

Olo’eyktan - Clan leader 

Tsahik - Spiritual leader 

Skxawng - Idiot

We broke up a month ago

Your friends are mine, you know, I know

You’ve moved on, found someone new

One more girl who brings out the better in you

We arrived in Awa’atlu a month ago. When I think about it, it pains me a great deal to have left all that I knew behind, but it would’ve killed me if they left without me, if he was no longer there, even if the forest will forever be my home it would’ve felt desolate without him and the light he would bring along with him. Oh how foolish I was to think that them leaving would be the only thing to tear my heart in two. 

The night before Tarsem became the new Olo’eyktan and the Sully’s and I would begin our journey for uturu, I cried, cried in the arms of my best friend and my first love as fears and uncertainty overwhelmed me. 

“I-I am afraid, what if the sky people come to find us again? I cannot lose any of you; it would break me into a million pieces,” I sobbed. 

“If they find us then we will fight and we will win,” Lo’ak declared as he softly rocked me back and forth in his arms. 

“You are an idiot, I was so close to losing you, to losing Kiri, Tuk, how do you think it would make me feel to lose the most important people in my life?” I sniffled. 

“(Y/N), sweet girl, you will not lose us, we will always be there for you. Do not worry your pretty head over such things, I promise that I will be with you all throughout the journey as will my family. We love you, and even if you do not believe it, you are a Sully. And you know what my dad always says.” 

“Sullys stick together,” we chorused. 

That night, he stayed cradling me in his arms until I fell asleep, whispering comforting words and giving occasional kisses to the top of my head. 

The entire journey was rough. Days seemed to blend together as we flew through the skies on our ikran. We were all quiet at the beginning as we mourned the loss of our home. But by the end of it all Kiri, Lo’ak and I found ways to entertain ourselves by telling jokes and playing a game called “I spy” that Jake taught us when he got tired of the three of us bumping ikran with one another. As we approached the village, a horn was blown to announce our arrival to the village. One by one, we all landed and dismounted our ikran. 

Jake stepped forwards with his hands in the air as a means to show we came in peace. As a large group of Metkayina surrounded us, I instinctively stepped closer to Lo’ak and Neteyam. Looking around, I could see the differences between us, our skin was darker, tails much skinnier, and their eyes were much larger. My tail whipped excitedly as I looked around, but before I was able to tell Lo’ak about any of my observations, two boys around our age started to walk towards us. Out of respect, Lo’ak, Neteyam and I greeted them properly. The teenage boys, however, turned a blind eye and began to make fun of our physical appearances. 

“Is that supposed to be a tail?” The short one laughed.

My eyes narrowed as I followed their movement and was ready to hiss, hackles raised, when Neteyam put a hand on my shoulder and quickly shook his head. Hesitantly my tail fell at the silent order. 

“Why are you so quiet? Lo’a-” I whispered as I turned around to see Lo’ak staring wide-eyed.  “What’re you staring at?” I mumbled as I followed his gaze.  

A beautiful Metkayina girl walked out of the water towards us. As she got closer, Lo’ak let out a meek hello and was rewarded with a shy giggle while an unknown ache in my chest consumed me. 

And I thought my heart was detached 

From all the sunlight of our past

But she’s so sweet, she’s so pretty 

Does she mean you forgot about me? 

Her name was Tsireya, the daughter of Olo’eyktan and Tsahik. Her brother Ao’nung and her are meant to teach us their clan's ways so we are not burdened by being “useless.” Our first lesson was to learn how to breathe properly. 

So there we all were, sitting in a circle while Rotxo, Ao’nung’s friend, and Tsireya tried to teach us to breathe from our stomachs not our lungs as it didn’t supply us enough air to dive deep enough. I sat between Neteyam and Lo’ak while Kiri was across from me. 

My eyes were closed as I tried to focus, ears twitching as Lo’ak playfully swatted my back with his tail. A small smile found its way onto my face as my tail lightly swatted him back.

“Lo’ak you are not breathing properly. Let me show you,” Tsireya scolded. Slowly my smile dropped and I opened my eyes to Tsireya putting her hand over Lo’ak’s heart and stomach.“Your heartbeat is fast. Try to focus,” Tsireya advised, demonstrating how slow we should be breathing herself. 

“Right, sorry,” Lo’ak apologized. 

I could faintly hear Neteyam and Rotxo unsuccessfully try to hold back a laugh as I closed my eyes to try to calm my mind and heart from breaking further. Unbeknownst me, a pair of eyes full of pity were on me the entire time, seeing my ears flatten and my demeanor shrink. 

Oh, I hope you’re happy 

But not like how you were with me

I’m selfish, I know, I can’t let you go

So find someone great, but don’t find no one better 

I hope you’re happy but don’t be happier 

The last two weeks had been peaceful, same routine but I had barely been able to see Lo’ak. He was always gone early in the morning and was there for lessons, but he would leave with Tsireya as soon as we were done. Even though it was our day off from lessons I hadn’t seen him at all. Maybe it was because I had been sticking to Kiri most of the day, but the lack of his presence left me feeling empty. 

Although it really was relaxing to hear the waves crash softly and to sunbathe, it appeared that Eywa had plans of her own as the moment of calm barely lasted before the sound of crunching sand and laughter came closer. My ears twitched as I slowly sat up. Looking to my side I saw Ao’nung and his group of skxawng heading towards Kiri. Narrowing my eyes I stood up quickly and headed over to where she was, but they made it there before me. 

“What is she doing? She’s just looking at the sand” Ao’nung laughed. 

“What? What’d you say?” Kiri questioned slowly, getting out of the water with a confused smile on her face. 

“Are you some kind of… freak?” Ao’nung teased as his friends laughed. 

“Leave her alone Ao’nung. She is no freak,” I hissed, grabbing Kiri’s arm to leave. “Let’s go, Kiri.'' 

“Are you sure? Look at these hands.” he persisted and grabbed the offending hands in question. 

“Ao’nung plea-” 

“Hey! Back off fish lips.” Lo’ak yelled, rapidly approaching as the beginnings of a snarl was already forming on his face.

“Oh another four-fingered freak,” Ao’nung simpered.

“Look at his little baby tail,'' one of Ao’nung’s friends pointed out while pulling at Lo’ak’s tail, causing laughter to bubble up amongst them.

“Leave us alone!” Kiri pleaded as they continued to tease and gang up on Lo’ak. I saw Neteyam stalking towards us in the corner of my eye. 

“You heard what she said. Leave them alone,” Neteyam said as he shoved Ao’nung away from Lo’ak, much to the delight of one of Ao’nung’s friends. 

“Aw, big brother comi-” Ao’nung interrupted with a hand on his chest. 

“Back off. Now,” Neteyam warned Ao’nung, lifting his hands in mock surrender shortly after. “Good choice,” he nodded, eyes never wavering. “And from now on, I need you to respect my sister.” 

Clearly unhappy with being talked down to by the brother of the “freaks,” one of the skxawng hissed before Ao’nung lifted his hand to stop him. My eyes scanned all the Metkayina boys and held Ao’nung’s stare before sticking my tongue out. 

“C’mon, let’s go,” Neteyam ordered. 

As we were leaving, I heard Ao’nung’s voice carried over by the wind. 

“All freaks, the whole family.” 

But before I could do anything, I saw Lo’ak turn and reassure us that he could handle the situation before spinning on his heel and heading back towards them.

“I know this hand is funny,” he said, voice low as he flexed the extra digit to demonstrate. “Look, I’m a freak. Alien. But it can do something really cool.” I tried to hold back my laugh while Kiri rolled her eyes. I looked at Neteyam and gave him a small smirk, he simply shook his head. 

“Watch,” Lo’ak studied the curious expressions of the Metkayina boys while they were enthralled with his hand, “first I ball it up real tight like this, then—” fast enough you could almost miss it, he punched Ao’nung not once, but three times.

“It’s called a punch, bitch!” Lo’ak crowed, pointing an accusing finger. “Never touch my sister again.”

Ao’nung lunged at Lo’ak and tackled him onto the sand. The two wrestled on the ground, and Lo’ak got a good hit in before being pulled off by his tail. What dirty fighters! I hissed but saw Neteyam shake his head and sigh before jumping in to defend his brother before I could do anything. 

“Guys. Stop it,” Kiri groaned. 

“This is embarrassing,” I said as I looked over at her, my tail swishing back and forth in anticipation. As we shared a look we could hear someone yell, “ow my tail!” and a responding,“ow my ear!” 

“This is stupid,” we both laughed. 

My eyes widened as I see Lo’ak climb atop Ao’nung and start serving blow after blow. Before this became any worse and the son of the Olo’eyktan was injured any further, I was already moving to get Lo’ak off of him. 

“You skxawng, if you keep hitting him your father will send you to Eywa faster than—” Interrupted by an elbow to the nose, I yelped in pain and I staggered back as I held my face. 

The fighting stopped. All eyes were on me. 

“Shit! (Y/N) why would you get so damn close?” Lo’ak cursed as he got off Ao’nung to look at the damage. 

“I was trying to prevent your early death, asshole,” I hissed. 

“That doesn’t justify why you would try to pry me off of him, if I didn’t know any better I would’ve thought you were trying to protect his skxawng ass over there,” he scoffed. 

“You’re the real skxawng. I already told you, I’m trying to save your ass from the harsh scolding your father will deal you when he hears that you beat up the son of the Olo’eyktan!” I yelled. 

As Lo’ak and I continued to argue, the group of boys dispersed and all that was left was Ao’nung, Kiri, and Neteyam looking at us confused. Before the argument could get worse, Jake found us and saw the aftermath of the fight. Angered by the sight of Ao’nung injured, he pushed Lo’ak and Neteyam by the shoulders and ordered me to follow him to the marui. My ears flattened and my tail wrapped around my ankle at the sound of his angered tone, but I followed anyway. 

Looking back, I saw Ao’nung sign, “thank you” and— once again—stuck my tongue out at him in distaste. Who did he think he was, thinking that I’d willingly help him after he called my friends “freaks?” Bah, he was such a presumptuous jacka—

“Keep walking, (Y/N),” Jake groused and snapped me out of my thoughts, unwilling to let anymore scuffles happen today. Feeling properly chagrined, I lowered my head and turned around only to meet eyes with Lo’ak. 

The interaction didn’t go unnoticed by him, it seemed. 

After Jake scolded us and told Lo’ak to apologize to Ao’nung, I was told to go wash the blood off of my face, so I followed silently behind a fuming Lo’ak. Lost in thought, I bumped into him and started apologizing before he turned and grabbed my shoulders. 

“When did you and fish lips get so close?” He questioned.

“Close?”  

“Yes, close.” He stepped back and tilted his head, brows creasing in growing annoyance. “Close enough that you would get hurt protecting him, trying to get me off of him. What is wrong with you? Don’t think I haven’t noticed the looks, the fact that you guys talk through sign even when we are not in the water,” he scoffed. 

“Where is this even coming from—”I sputtered in confusion, trying to gather my thoughts before feeling a rising frustration of my own. “You’re unbelievable, you know that? Why can’t you believe that I was doing it for you?! I was trying to save you from a fierce scolding for disobeying your father’s orders. I was trying to protect you,” I spit out, eyes growing blurry with angry tears. 

“Bah! Stop lying, I know you (Y/N). You would have fought alongside me and defended Kiri. You are not the same girl I knew in the forest back home,” he muttered, rolling his eyes and getting ready to walk away. “Talk to me when you’ve come back to your senses,” he called over his shoulder, leaving me behind as tears started to fall and my chest started rising and falling uncontrollably. The familiar ache was back again, only this time it stung with every sob I let out. 

And do you tell her she’s the most beautiful girl you’ve ever seen? 

An eternal love bullshit you know you’ll never mean

Remember when I believed you meant it when you said it first to me? 

It was decided that I would be the first to undergo the iknimaya. Carefully jumping over a fallen log, I grabbed my yimkxa and walked closer to where the ikran rested. Behind me, I heard two new but familiar voices. Without turning around, I could hear the greetings of Lo’ak and Neteyam to the other hunters. Vaguely I registered them saying they wanted to come and watch to cheer me on. 

Facing forward, I made sure to be aware of my surroundings so I didn’t make a fool out of myself. Left and right, banshees of all shades and hues screeched and flew off. I scanned through the many ikran that flew off and briefly remembered my mentor telling us that to find the banshee we are meant to bond with for life, it must try to kill us first. 

I found myself face-to-face with a white and gold ikran that stomped angrily to show off its dominance. Powerful jaws that showed off gleaming fangs snapped in my direction, so I bared my fangs and hissed in response. Crouching slightly as I slowly circled around the beautiful creature, I faintly heard Lo’ak’s cheer of encouragement. 

 A strong wave of adrenaline shot through me as the banshee began to bare its teeth and bellow angrily. Before I could register it, I barely managed to dodge teeth aimed for my leg. Ducking and weaving out of reach from its, I quickly swung my yimkxa around its head, successfully immobilizing the jaw. With as much speed I could muster, I jumped onto the back of the ikran—its neck felt like woven stone beneath my legs as it thrashed its head about, trying to buck me off. 

It was hard to distinguish what was up or down as I clumsily grabbed at my queue to complete the tsaheylu. I could barely hear the faint cheering and war cries behind me—the feeling of my vision sharpening and my lungs inhaling with a renewed strength was too overwhelming to focus on anything else. The bond was made. 

“I will name you Tekay,” I whispered as I took the yimkxa off. 

My hands eagerly held onto her as she screeched and began to flap her wings, a signal that she was going to take off. Laughing, I led her to the edge and nose-dived off the face of the cliff. I could hear the screams of the other hunters and the two Sully boys. 

The wind pushing against my face was exhilarating and my chest swelled as I directed Tekay to fly straight up to where the ikran nest was. 

“You scared us shitless (Y/N)! What were you thinking?” Neteyam chastised as I landed. 

“It was amazing!” I shouted, breathless and full of awe. “The feeling of the air against my skin and Tekay’s speed! No words can describe how I feel at this very moment! Did you see that Lo’ak? I did it!” I exclaimed, cheeks flush with adrenaline. 

“You know you’re really beautiful when you’re excited,” Lo’ak laughs. 

Beautiful.

“Wh-what’re you talking about skxawng,” I said, turning around to face Tekay in hopes he didn’t notice the darkening of my cheeks. It seemed as though Eywa was on my side that day as Lo’ak turned back around to get on top of his Ikran and yipped at me. Looking back at him, I tilted my head. 

“Let’s race back to High Camp! The last one there is a skxawng” He taunted. 

“(Y/N)? Are you listening?” A soft voice questioned, pulling me back from my reminiscing. 

“Huh? Oh yeah, sorry… just lost in thought for a second.” I smiled. 

“What were you thinking about, hm? Maybe a certain Na’vi whose name starts with ‘Lo’ and ends in ‘ak?’” Kiri teased and giggled as my eyes grew wide and the tips of my ears grew pink.  

“N-no I wasn’t! What makes you think that!” I gasped. Suddenly, I found a great interest in the ocean. 

“Oh no reason…” she teased. 

Before I could respond I saw two heads pop out of the water laughing, looking like they were in their own little world. That nothing else mattered. As they were getting closer to shore I could see that it was Lo’ak and Tsireya. My heart clenched and I stopped Kiri before she called them over to us. There was confusion on her face, but a look of understanding replaced it soon after she saw me shake my head. 

Too afraid to move in fear of being found, I gripped Kiri’s hand in a silent plea for her to stay as still as possible. Not too far below the rock we were situated on, we could hear the both of them playfully push at and laugh with each other. Tears clouded my vision as I witnessed Lo’ak complement Tsireya. 

“You know you’re really beautiful when you laugh,” Lo’ak chuckled, pushing a stray strand of hair away from her face. My mind was a blur as the once unfamiliar feeling in my chest came back and I could only silence my sobs in my hands while Kiri shushed and comforted me. 

And now I’m pickin’ her apart 

Like cuttin’ her down will make you miss my wretched heart

But she’s beautiful, she looks kind 

She probably gives you butterflies 

I’ve been avoiding Lo’ak all week, which didn’t really take much effort on my part as he didn’t seek me out either. I found myself distancing myself from everyone, whenever I had free time I would excuse myself to a secluded area near the roots of the mangrove trees and wallow in self-pity. My sadness grew with each passing day. I’ve fallen into a routine since our fight and after witnessing  him be oh-so gentle with her, slipping away as soon as lessons are over, coming back just before dinner starts and leaving as soon as I’m done, barely talking to Kiri, Neteyam or anyone in general. 

They tried their hardest to make sure I was alright and actually taking care of myself, but it was hard to keep myself from shutting down whenever I was with them. It had gotten to the point where even Ao’nung was trying to look out for me, like some sort of switch was flipped after the fight. 

If I was in my right mind, I would’ve hissed and blatantly showcased my distaste for him, but even uttering a word other than meek “thank you”s when he hands me water or some sort of snack was more than I could handle. 

“You know you should really eat, you’ve already lost some weight,” A now-familiar voice chastised. 

With a small sigh I replied, “I’m not hungry,” pulling my knees closer to my chest. 

A shift in the air told me that the person has moved and crouched down next to me. Turning my head slightly, I saw that he was holding out a piece of fruit. I stared blankly and after a pregnant pause, he softly took my hand and places the fruit in it. 

“Ao’nung please, I already told you I’m not hungry.”

“I overheard Lo’ak telling my sister you didn’t eat breakfast.” He pulled out a small woven bag of fruit. “And lunch has already passed. Eat,” he ordered. But before he could push anymore food in my direction, I shook my head and turned away. “He can notice enough to tell Tsireya that I’m not eating, but he doesn’t care enough to talk to me himself?”

Ears twitching, I heard Ao’nung take a breath to—I’m assuming comfort me—and I interrupted him, not wanting to hear empty platitudes. It was a rhetorical question anyway, it wasn’t as if I was expecting an answer.

“If I take one bite will you leave me alone?” 

“If you finish the whole thing, then I will leave you alone,” he bargained. 

“Bah, you are insufferable,” I hissed, eyeing the fruit before taking a bite. The juice and flavors that flowed into my mouth made me realize just how thirsty and hungry I actually was. Eagerly I took another bite, until there was nothing left. 

“Right, you definitely weren’t hungry,” Ao’nung teased. Glaring at him, I nudged his shoulder. 

“This is the part where you leave, skxawng.” 

He held his hands up in surrender.  “Alright, alright I’m leaving. I’ll let Kiri know where you are, she’s been looking all over for you,”  he informed as he stood up and began climbing down the root.

As his shuffling grew distant, I growled in frustration as tears welled up in my eyes and pulled my knees even closer to my chest. Before my tears could fall, I heard the familiar sound of laughter that used to fill my stomach with butterflies and made my heart soar. Eyes wide I could see Lo’ak pop out of the water yelling. 

“I did it! Did you see that Reya?”. 

“Reya?” I whispered.

It felt like something broke.

I hope you’re happy 

But not like how you were with me 

I’m selfish, I know. I can’t let you go 

So find someone great but don’t find no one better 

“(Y/N)? Ao’nung told me you were here, are you okay?” a soft voice questioned. 

“Kiri… it hurts” I sobbed into my hands as the scene continued to replay in my head. Gentle arms wrapped themselves around my shoulders, cradling me to their chest. Shushing me as I sobbed, Kiri allowed me to let it all out before she began to softly coerce me to tell her what was wrong. With only faint sniffles being heard, I felt Kiri move so that we are sitting face to face with our hands holding. 

“Take a deep breath with me, calm your heart,” she said, voice soothing as she began to slowly inhale to set the pace. I tried to follow along the best that I could through hiccuping breaths. 

“That’s it txe’lan,” she encouraged,  “once you’ve calmed down we can speak of the storm that’s clouding your heart. Take all the time you need.” 

We sat in silence for a few minutes as the waves softly crashed against the shore, my breathing slowing and all that was left of my breakdown was a shuddering breath. I tried to pull my hands away from Kiri’s grasp but she’s too quick and she tightens her hold on my hands. 

“You are not running away from this, do not collapse into yourself or you’ll lose to the war in your heart,” Kiri insisted, her voice gentle but stern. “Please, tell me what is going on? I’m worried about you. You know I will never judge you, I am here to listen.” 

With one last unsteady breath, I began to tell her the reason for my lack of appetite and why tears stained my face more often than not. As I voiced out my insecurities my vision blurred and I felt the familiar ache in my chest rise as I tried to choke back a sob. 

“I just don’t understand how someone could change so much in such a short period of time. Seeing their lingering looks, the soft touches, the way he tells her things he used to tell me first… hurts. It hurts so much. After the fight with Ao’nung it’s like I’m nobody to him anymore,” I whispered. 

“Oh, txe’lan, my brother is an idiot but he would never think less of you…” Kiri responded. 

“When we fought he told me he didn’t know who I was anymore, that I wasn’t the same girl I used to be…” I sobbed, my hands tearing themselves away from her gentle hold to wrap around myself.  “Why didn’t he understand?” 

Kiri tilted her head as she reached a comforting arm towards me. “Understand what?”

“How could he even think I would choose somebody over him? When I did it for him and nobody else?” Another rhetorical question, I know, but my eyes searched her face for an answer regardless. I scrunched my nose in frustration at the obvious look of pity aimed at me and tried to turn away. 

“Txe’lan..”

“And you know the worst of it all, Kiri?” A mirthless laugh bubbled from my throat. “I can see how easy it is for him to push me away. To forget the years we spent together laughing, making jokes and telling each other things no one else knew about.” 

 “I don’t think he’s forgotten…” Kiri says, trying to reassure me. 

“I know that he still cares, I know that he wouldn’t just leave me behind for someone else to hurt me on purpose but it makes my heart ache. I know that I shouldn’t be sad that he’s found someone to be happy with, that I shouldn’t be selfish. I should be celebrating for him but I can’t. It feels like I’m being left behind in the dust and cast aside while he’s found the one.” As I went on, my chest became tighter and tighter. “It just hurts a lot Kiri. And I shouldn’t be hurting because he seems so— so happy, and it hurts even more—”

“(Y/N), how’re you so sure that he’s left you behind for good?” Kiri sighed and laid her hand on my knee. 

“I’m not sure, which hurts me more than knowing if he has. My heart and mind are clouded with the fear of losing him. Kiri…” I looked up to the sky to prevent any more tears from falling, my voice becoming smaller. “ I just miss my friend, I miss the way it used to be.”

“I know you do.” She frowned and moved to wrap her arms around my shaking form. 

“You’re so dead when I get to you big bro,” Lo’ak shrieked, small canines flashing as he jumped after Neteyam into the river. 

“Like you can take me on skxawng,” Neteyam laughed and dodged. 

“Oh yeah?” Lo’ak smirked, puffing out his chest. “I have a secret weapon. (Y/N)! C’mon, help me take him down!”  I popped out from behind a fallen branch with bared fangs, my tail whipping playfully as I let out a war cry and pounced onto a startled Neteyam. My legs wrapped around his waist while my arms found purchase around his neck in a weak chokehold. 

“What the—”

“Never underestimate the enemy!” I crowed with triumphant laughter as he lost balance and fell into the river.

Lo’ak was doubled over in laughter. “You should see your face!”

“Wait till dad hears about this—” Neteyam threatened, doing his best to seem intimidating while waterlogged. 

“Try your best big bro, you can’t even catch us,” Lo’ak mocked as he took my hand and started running home, laughter ringing throughout the forest. 

  “Have you tried talking to him about it?”

I let out a frustrated groan and flopped onto my back. “What would be the point?”

“Well—”

“I want to be selfish, to yell out that I miss him—us but I truly, genuinely want him to be happy, and I’m not going to get in the way of that.” Raising myself up on one arm to look out into the ocean at the silhouettes of two Na’vi kids playing in the water, I hurriedly wiped away frustrated tears that couldn’t seem to stop. “It just hurts so much more to know that he’s at the happiest point in his life without me in it.” 

I hope you’re happy

I wish you all the best, really

Say you love her, baby, just not like you loved me

And think of me fondly when your hands are on her 

I hope you’re happy, but don’t be happier 

Ooh, ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh

Ooh-ooh 

I hope you’re happy 

Just not like how you were with me 

I’m selfish, I know, can’t let you go 

So find someone great, but don’t find no one better 

I hope you’re happy, but don’t be happier

[that-ari-blogger]

Efficient Writing At Its Best

Is it me, or is there a noticeable jump in quality in No Princess Left Behind? As in, the animation budget seems to double between episodes, the cinematography is stellar, the humour is incredible. And the writing itself becomes so much more enthralling.

What gets me about this jump is that She Ra and the Princesses of Power was already a fantastic show. Each element I mentioned above is already firing on all cylinders. You would think that this show cannot improve any further, but in this episode it does.

Promise is lauded as some of the best She-Ra has to offer. And don't worry, I will get there. But No Princess Left Behind is my favourite episode of the show by far and one of my favourite episodes of television. This is the episode She Ra stops being merely an incredibly well-made show, and starts to become art.

Let me explain.

SPOILERS AHEAD

First up, format. This episode is a prison break and both a condensed monomyth and a miniaturised tragedy. None of these things make it great on their own, that's not how writing works. But they are written with incredible nuance derived from character, setting, and the intersections of those tropes.

A prison break is a self-explanatory story structure. A character is imprisoned and either doesn't want to be or has allies who don't want them to be. In the case of the external help variation, as with this episode, the plot functions as a medicine journey with the object of significance being the ally on the inside. (A medicine journey is just a journey to a place to retrieve a thing).

Monomyth is another term for the Hero's Journey. And there are two things about this that need to be understood: The Hero's journey is a set of guidelines, and the Hero's Journey is fluid. By which I mean, the format of the monomyth isn't set in stone, and if a story doesn't follow the specific set of rules you have found, that's not a fault.

In essence, the Monomyth is a set of common events that link multiple stories. Originally proposed in Joseph Campbell's A Hero With A Thousand Faces, the format has been changed over time through interpretation and through people leaving out Campbell's... biases (Misogynistic is an understatement for this guy). The form I am most aware of includes elements such as crossing the threshold, the darkest hour, and the metaphorical death and rebirth, all of which this episode hits in quick succession. If you want more details about the monomyth, I advise reading Campbell's book, or this article by Owlcation. TedEd also has a neat video on the subject.

A tragedy is the most well-known story type. Or rather, you say tragedy, and people generally get what you are talking about. It's a story with a sad ending. But there is more complication than that. Beginning in Ancient Greece, a tragedy is a way of experiencing powerful emotions in a safe environment. Loss, pain, hope, joy. A tragedy is a rollercoaster and is an incredibly good way of achieving that effect. To the point where stories that aren't tragedies (Like She-Ra) are frequently written as them and subverted at the last possible moment. OSP has a video going into detail, but in the interest of this analysis being shorter than a Tolstoy book, the words to understand are these:

Hamartia - Fatal flaw

Peripetea - Reversal of fortune

Catharsis - Emotional release

Bear these in mind because these are situational, and I will be talking about how in a moment. The point is this episode is incredibly efficient at showing each character's strengths and weaknesses and having them affect the plot. Each character has some moments to shine, and that final gut punch is caused by the characters' mistakes. Thats why it hurts, because it was both unlucky and inevitable.

Mermista and Sea Hawk steal the show for me, for completely opposite reasons.

I have always believed, somewhat falsely, that the most well written scenes are those with less dialogue, because the rest of the acting can speak for itself. The minour acting and surroundings can shine if there is less dialogue to distract. Mermista is an example of this, but also an example of why this belief is wrong.

Mermista is the queen of subtlety, with so much emotion and meaning being portrayed by so little. She is exaggerated, sure, but she is a lot more subdued than the entire rest of the cast. What she does have, is expression. In the sewer scene, her head is the only thing visible, and she has more character on display in twenty-two seconds than Swiftwind has in the whole series. She doesn't even speak.

But when Mermista does speak, there is something fascinating happening here. Mermista's lines are saying a completely different thing to her animation, actions, and even the inflection of how those lines are delivered. Mermista goes out of her way to put up a facade of not caring, but she is remarkably affected by her surroundings and the people around her.

For example, despite herself, she grows attached to Entrapta, and gets excited when they work as a team. But I find this gesture so much more revealing. She tears up. But instead of crying, she quietly turns away and dries them. Mermista's Hamartia is also her greatest strength, her distance. She is pragmatic, but she pushes herself too far away to help.

Meanwhile Sea Hawk is a TTRPG bard. This isn't even subtle.

For those who don't know, in DnD and Pathfinder, a bard is a charisma-based class that plays support most of the time (although you can build it in whatever way you want, this is how the class is designed). This means that they often end up as the party face and the glue of the group. There is a prominent live show in which a Bard leaves the party, and it shows off my point exactly.

Sea Hawk is easily the most charismatic character on the group, a fact he uses in a really interesting way. For one, he's distracting. His fast talking keeps Scorpia from being a problem for the group, and in every fight he is in in this episode, his primary role is to distract or annoy his opponents. He doesn't deal much damage, but he keeps himself as a piece on the board that gets on people's nerves and gets them to make mistakes.

Sea Hawk's constant babble is doing another thing for the group. He's reassuring and comforting. His number one priority at all times (successfully or not), is to keep everyone's spirits up. Sea Hawk is a master of inspiring. And would you look at that, DnD and Pathfinder have that as a core ability (Bardic Inspiration and Inspiring Performance respectively).

So, what is Sea Hawk's weakness? His optimism. I don't mean this as "optimism is foolish", I mean that Sea Hawk's hamartia is, much like Mermista, his greatest strength. Sea Hawk is always looking forwards, always keeping the group moving. When someone stops, it doesn't occur to him to look back until it is too late.

Glimmer and Bow are similar characters to each other, and it is in how they react to stress that that is shown. Both are resilient, but where one is resourceful, the other is relentless.

Bow is a simple character, in comparison to everyone else. Psychologically and physically. He doesn't have powers that can be restricted or that can get him out of trouble. What he does have, is his mind. Bow is clever and resourceful, and he works out a way of getting the right information while imprisoned so that the group doesn't have to work on that later.

Bow thinks big picture, once again his greatest strength and greatest weakness. He can strategize really well, but he doesn't expect the little things. Like Adora's surrender, or like the tiny detail that he overlooks: Entrapta likes robots. It's so small and so natural to him that he takes it for granted.

Glimmer's fatal flaw is obvious already. It's her stubbornness that got everyone into this situation, and that directly causes the end result. This is Glimmer's fault. But Glimmer's stubbornness isn't always a bad thing.

"It's a shame the toll this rebellion has taken on your family. First you loose your father and now..."

"She-Ra will stop you."

"There is no She-Ra!"

Shadow Weaver is a character who specialises in messing with people's minds. She enjoys control, and routinely underestimates the power of determination. To her all those around her are weak willed. But say what you want about Glimmer, the one thing she is not, is weak willed.

I love the line above because it is the first time anyone has managed to actually annoy Shadow Weaver. By this, I don't mean the same type of annoyance as Catra is to her, because I don't think Shadow Weaver cares about her enough to be truly angry. What Glimmer does here is win on Shadow Weaver's home turf.

Shadow Weaver tries to demoralise, and Glimmer blinks away tears, looks her square in the face, and remains stalwart. That's why I think Shadow Weaver shouts here, she's furious, and she can keep posturing, but Glimmer has won this little exchange.

Even with the reveal of the sword, I think its clear just how much Shadow Weaver is rattled, and I think this little exchange is the reason for her actions later on in the series.

This is also on display here, as once again, Glimmer's raw determination and stubbornness blindsides Shadow Weaver, and it's telling what provoked this. Glimmer is protective of her friends first and foremost. And here, Shadow Weaver pushes too far, and the power of friendship prevails.

It's a minour moment of the theme for the rest of the series. Love, whether romantic or platonic, will overpower anything.

And finally, there is Entrapta. I don't think I need to explain what her strengths and weaknesses are. She's not hiding either.

What's important to note about Entrapta is that she is the convergence of the plot threads I mentioned earlier. The tragedy is her story, and this episode focuses in on that.

Her death scene is so powerful because it is so unfair, and so inevitable. It's quick, and unavoidable in the moment. Thie is the moment when the cost of this war finally sinks in. Yes, things happen later on, but it cannot undermine the gut punch that is this scene, and the final few moments of this episode.

Peripetia is the reversal of fortune, it is the moment when all of the Hamartia comes crashing down and everything thereafter, and the tone changes. In Romeo and Juliet, this is the death of Tybalt (Spoilers).

Here, the Peripetia is the moment when Emily gets stuck, and those flames. It's the look in everyone's face as they realise what has happened and that brief shot of Entrapta's expression before. And it is that infernal siren.

Catharsis meanwhile is the moment of relief, or setting out those emotions. Catharsis is technically not a part of the story, it happens when you stop watching and reflect.

But this episode offers you time to wind down. That brief shot of She-Ra turning back into Adora is powerful not just because of the music, but also because of how empty it is. There is no closure here, and the audience doesn't get it either. The episode ends on this:

Final Thoughts

I didn't even have time to talk about Catra. She doesn't really do much here, but that scene with the sword is a nice bait and switch. Shadow Weaver is evil, all the characters are at their best and their worst simultaneously and I think that is quite cool.

Oh, and Perfuma. She has an extremely restricted worldview of what teamwork should look like, and Entrapta doesn't fit into that, hence the conflict. I think Perfuma learns to change slightly but doesn't get much time to do so in this episode.

Next week I'll be taking a look at The Beacon, so stick around if that interests you.

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