#being in this fandom has given me the ability to laugh at my own creations

[manawari]

SOLO LEVELING BOYBAND AU: internet shenanigans pt 1.

[itsclydebitches]

RWBY Recaps: Volume 8 “Worthy”

Happy Saturday, everyone! I mean that seriously for once. Regardless of what I have to say about this episode �� and as always, there's a lot — I want it on the record that "Worthy" was leagues ahead of... pretty much everything else we've gotten lately. For all of RWBY's continuing problems, there's a level of effort here that I really do appreciate. Especially for the penultimate episode.

Our title, "Worthy," immediately conjures thoughts of Watts' speech about Cinder needing to be "worthy" of the power she craves and, what do you know, our villains work hard to prove their worth this episode. Hallelujah! We start with the heroes though and do you recall how last week I said that our opening may as well be a summary of the whole series since Volume 6, what with the grimm conveniently avoiding the team's airship and them just looking vaguely sad that the people around them are perishing? Well, same here. Or rather, same problems, different flavor. Oscar opens with the question, "What do we do now?" and no sooner has he asked that then the magic portal appears to give him the answer. Useful!

More seriously though, I've been intensely side-eyeing the group's wish since last week. Not (just) because of the awful decision to turn Penny human, but simply because the story emphasized how "smart" the group was, heavily insisting that their portal plan is a masterpiece of well thought out strategy... and I really don't think it is. There was a lot of confusion last episode about how exactly the group was using the vault, with my own interpretation — that they were funneling everyone to Vacuo's vault — proven wrong today, but one of the problems brought up was how Ambrosius could possibly create portals across a kingdom precisely where the group needs them. Yang asks him,

"Can you make a bunch of doorways in Atlas that open at a single spot in Vacuo?"

To which, simply, Ambrosius says no. He'd need, among other things, "coordinates and specs for each door" and "an explanation for bending space and time."

This is why, prior to the very end of "Creation" where we saw portals appearing everywhere, I thought using both vaults was the solution. Ambrosius knows (or can easily receive) the coordinates for his own vault and the one in Vacuo. As weird, alternate dimensions, they're potentially capable of bending space and time as necessary. If you put the portal in Atlas' vault and open it up in Vacuo's vault, you're golden. The only challenge now is getting everyone in the kingdom to the Winter Maiden's vault.

But then... that didn't happen. Apparently the vault just becomes the in-between place for everyone to pass through and the portals appear all over the kingdom, even though the group didn't provide those "coordinates and specs." What they did was show Ambrosius a schematic of the cities. That's not the same thing as telling him precisely where each portal needs to appear — which is what he asked for. I bring this long-winded explanation up not merely to emphasize "RWBY's wish isn't as smart as the story wants you to believe it is" but because this wreaks havoc on who is getting a portal. How did the group tell Ambrosius precisely where to put a portal for Jaune's group? Why didn't they try to make one appear for Qrow and Robyn? Or Winter? Or Pietro and Maria? They had to have been somewhat specific in terms of saying where these portals appeared because if they just wished for everyone to get one, Jacques and Ironwood would have gotten one too. Basically, the portals do appear for characters whose “Worthy” plot now takes place in this in-between space and the portals do not appear for those whose plot is still taking place in Atlas. That's a mess. To say nothing of how it implies that our heroes just don't give a damn about all their other allies — including an uncle (Ruby, Yang) and a father (Penny) — and that, ultimately, Ambrosius did the very thing he initially said wouldn't work. He put a bunch of doors around Atlas that opened on a single point in Vacuo without making the group meet these requirements first. The rest is just a bunch of mumbo jumbo to distract the viewer from the fact that none of this actually makes sense.

But that's a tangent. To get back on track, Jaune's group decides to "spread the word on foot" since they can't contact anyone via their scrolls anymore. What this translates to is Jaune going to one spot and Nora doing the rest of the work because she can suddenly ride her hammer like a broomstick. 

You know what? I'm fine with it. Have we ever seen Nora do this before? Not that I recall. Is it a cute image that feeds my witch-loving brain? Yeeeeeaah.

They're not sure if the portals are safe though and everyone turns to Jaune as the joke test subject. Except everyone else is right behind him when the go through? Even the jokes in this show aren't consistent.

What I do like though is that we get another interesting team split: Oscar, Emerald, and Ren heading to Vacuo while Jaune and Nora help with the evacuation — even though Nora and Jaune aren't actually doing anything together. Still, I can see that (for this volume at least) RT has taken the duo criticisms to heart. It would have been incredibly easy to attach Nora and Ren at the hip again, despite her desire for space, so I'm glad that they're still striving to mix things up a bit.

Nora says that Shade is "armed to the teeth with huntsmen and huntresses." It is? I mean sure, it has its school, but so did Vale. So did Atlas. In fact, we've spent the last two volumes emphasizing that Atlas is really the only armed kingdom remaining. Remember the plan for them to protect the world after knowledge of Salem's existence threw everything into disarray? Well, the people know about Salem now. And Salem herself is attacking. And they're about to slam an entire kingdom into another one. Don't get me wrong, I'm glad Nora ends her observations with the assertation that Vacuo will need as much help as they can get, but that worry feels far, far too late. Where were these concerns when Ruby made her announcement to the world in the first place? The fact that the group never went, "Hey, is it really worth telling people about Salem now when we can no longer provide the protection against the grimm that this announcement will necessitate? Yeah, we need backup, but can they even get here in time? I don't think so. Maybe we should hold off and try to find a way to solve this ourselves. Or, at the very least, just tell them Atlas is facing a massive grimm attack. That won't create quite the same panic as 'Magic immortal lady eager to kill you all' will."

Our heroes only acknowledge these problems when they're already neck deep in them. Forethought is not their strong suit.

For our obligatory humor, the people of Atlas are hiding behind the staircase after the evil portal appeared (weren't there, like, twenty of them in the last episode?) and a brave dude trying to toss a rock through accidentally hits Jaune. He — I kid you not — uses the Atlas huntsmen license gifted to him by Ironwood to gain authority over the group.

Talk about the story being tone deaf.

We segue to a shot of Penny who flies herself through the portal using the Maiden powers, precisely as she would have with her boots. Okay, I try not to pull many "I told you so"s because that's rude, petty, and all around just shit behavior... but boy is it tempting at times. Because RWBY's fandom is so staunchly against criticism that even the most polite pushbacks boil down to an equally rude "Just wait" mentality. Readers of these recaps know we were told to "just wait" for the group to talk to Ozpin. Or "just wait" for them to be punished for their crimes. "Just wait" for the complex forgiveness arc the group is sure to undergo with Emerald. "Just wait" is the go-to response when someone doesn't entirely disagree with our problems with the show, but still believes we're not giving RT enough credit. Most recently, I was told to "just wait" in regards to Penny. We don't actually know that her body is human. We don't actually know that her Maiden powers will still be the same. We don't actually know that this won't be the start of a long journey wherein she has to figure out how to use this new body, both on the battlefield and off. And the issue of RWBY failing to answer any of these questions isn’t valid criticism either because the only point being made here is that we’re not patient and supportive enough. Just wait. RT will prove you wrong. 

Well... Penny's body still appears entirely human, her Maiden powers still work just fine, and now they've given her the ability to create all her old weapons out of aura, meaning she fights exactly the same as she did before.

The only thing making Penny human did was force her to fight barefoot. Oh, and erase her journey of accepting herself as an android. 

Again, I don't want to be that asshole, especially when so many people want the show to be better — just like I do. By all means, hold out hope with me. But before slamming into someone's inbox to explain why they're being too negative because things are bound to be taken seriously down the road, keep in mind the staggering number of times we've decided to "just wait" and nothing ever came of it. Keep in mind that RWBY should be tackling these questions and expectations from the start. Now here we are, disappointed again. We're not pessimistic because we want to be, we're pessimistic because there's a clearly established pattern at play.

So Penny's change is, at this point, meaningless for her development and, at this point, we've lost the chance to introduce challenges later. If RT does, we're forever going to wonder why Penny didn't express any doubts upon waking up in a human body, or why she didn't face any problems while fighting another Maiden. Like Emerald getting the group to laugh and immediately being trusted with important duties, it's too late to suddenly backtrack and insist that there's still work to be done here. RT missed their chance.

That fight is a few minutes off though. For now, Oscar and the others arrive in Vacuo to discover that there's a sandstorm going on. Who could have ever expected that?

Seriously though, this is just one of the many reasons why our heroes come across as stupid. They deliberately chose to send everyone "outside the city limits of Vacuo," in a desert kingdom, after Ruby got the entire world panicked about Salem, and they somehow didn't think that a) weather might be a problem or b) grimm were going to show up? These characters have been though enough shit that they should be planning for the worst and hoping for the best, not planning for the best and assuming the worst just won't happen to them. Why wouldn't they have everyone appear inside the kingdom if they (against Ambrosius' rules) got to choose where everyone ended up? Why in the world would they rely on communications being up when CCT has been spotty since Volume 3 and Watts just took out Atlas’ entire system? Our characters don't think anything through — despite Ambrosius’ claims otherwise — and it makes for some pretty awful characterization. Because RWBY isn't trying to be a story about teenagers seriously messing up their attempts at heroics, it's trying to be a story about True Heroes... and we're just supposed to ignore the endless number of times the group doesn't think the most basic problems through. So now, Oscar and the other stand there doing nothing for the rest of the episode because a sandstorm in the desert threw a wrench in their plans. 

The only reason I didn’t bring this up last week is because I had no idea they had chosen to dump everyone outside of the city. I thought they were going to the vault, or at the very least appearing inside the border. Why wouldn’t you send everyone to the city??

It’s so stupid, but then Cinder arrives and blows a whole bunch of people off the edge of the pathways. HELL YEAH.

I mean, obviously not hell yeah for the poor civilians who just took a tumble, but yay the villain causing some damage. It's small potatoes compared to what we were promised at the end of last volume — Salem decimating a whole kingdom in The Fall of Atlas — but at least it's more than we were getting last week.

So Cinder is having her evil fun when the entire group leaves Penny to go after her. Again, stupid. You're going to leave the girl who (at this point) may not have been in a position to fight with her new body and stands vulnerable with a Relic? Not a single member stays behind to guard her? It would have served Team RWBY right if Neo had shown up and just clocked Penny, taking a second Relic for herself.

Cinder taunts the group with information she shouldn't have: “Your little friend Oscar was right, but the easy part ends here" then mimics them with the question "How’d you know about that?” at their shocked looks. This starts a flashback where we return to Cinder, Neo, and Watts in the alleyway. 

Again Cinder is given more development than a supposed hero like Emerald, apologizing to Neo for not upholding her end of their bargain. In fact, Cinder displays more growth here than our entire title characters combined, it's just that her growth turns her into a better villain. She apologizes to Neo, compliments Watts as a means of acknowledging the work he's accomplished — “You tore this kingdom apart with nothing but your intellect. How about we finish what you started?” — and tells the heroes that she did learn something from them: “Sometimes, if you want to win, you simply can’t do it alone.” 

I quite like all of this. Again, not that Cinder should be our biggest threat with Salem on the scene, but if you remove that context this is a great moment for her. She's actually learned something, but instead of following in the rather abrupt and, in Hazel's case, nonsensical footsteps of her peers, what she's learned has made her more dangerous, not a sudden, convenient ally. Since Volume 7 RWBY has hammered home the idea that only friends can truly be a good team and now, well, Cinder is kind of making friends. She's apologizing to Neo. She seems glad that Watts is happy. RWBY took the concept of working together and applied it to our villains with devastating effect. Team RWBY has been skating by on the idea that power comes from friendship, so what happens if your enemies become weird friends too?

To be clear, this doesn't erase the staggering number of other problems with Cinder's character, or the villains as a unit, or the volume as a whole... but it is an interesting step in the right direction. Props for that.

Granted, outside of the fight itself, the villains don't really win because they're smart, the heroes are just — again — staggeringly stupid. Cinder promises to get Ruby for Neo if she can ask Jinn a question... which she does! 

This moment could have been avoided if our heroes had just put the Lamp in the vault. Or not had Oscar carrying it around. Or used up the wish after they'd already summoned Jinn. Cinder's victory here rests entirely on her own enemies' ineptitude. At least she has the smarts to exploit it. She asks Jinn what the group's plan is and our three villains are shown the revelation outside after saving Penny and the discussions that took place in the dining room. They learn everything they need to inflict maximum chaos.

And it’s great. 

Three other details of note:

Cinder spots Emerald with the heroes during Jinn's vision, but doesn't have much of a reaction beyond her expression tightening.

Jinn looks sad when she reveals the group's plan, reinforcing the idea that she's biased towards our heroes. I'd be more on board with that characterization if a) she weren't created by Light whose own Good Guy persona is dubious at best, and b) she wasn't so cruel towards Ozpin. Again, it's just this strange insistence that everyone adore Ruby Rose.

Neo reveals the Relic by pulling it out of Roman's hat. Uh... is that how hats work? They contain objects twice their height? While resting on someone's head? This wasn't one of Neo's illusions, she literally just pulled it out like a real world magician. That's weird. Showy, but weird.

Anyway, the flashback continues as the villains infiltration the Atlas military headquarters. I really enjoyed the music and cinematography here. It's a strangely uplifting tune — rather Cinderella-esque — which doesn't appear to work until you remember that these moments are through Cinder's perspective. Of course this is a Happy Ending for her — even if it's not for the audience. The quick cut between her summoning some fire and the whole room alight, bodies everywhere, was an excellent touch.

The happiness of this moment is then emphasized by Neo skipping as she beats people and Watts admitting that this is "everything I’ve ever wanted." I'm really digging the contrast between this scene's celebratory nature and the knowledge that the story is celebrating the wrong characters. It creates an enjoyably uncomfortable feeling for us and helps flesh out the villains more. From their perspective, life is good.

There's even a shot of that #1 Dad mug. Sometimes, RWBY gets it right.

Watts in particular is enjoying himself. He snags a discarded apple — no fairy tale symbolism there, I'm sure — and casually rubs the blood off it before taking a bite. This guy has style! 

Watts watches Jaune try to send out his message to the kingdom and cuts communication at the worst possible moment. But then, we knew that already.

Elsewhere in the facility, Robyn and Qrow are trying to round up the Ace Ops. They all feel Atlas shake, realizing that the group has used the Relic, and Elm is appropriately horrified. "They'll destroy the kingdom!" Robyn says some self-righteous words about how a kingdom is made up of its people, not the land it exists on, which, while ignoring the importance of land to so many cultures, completely ignores that right now the majority of people are still on Atlas, or below it, including them. "They set the house alight!" someone cries. "Who cares about a stupid house," Robyn says, uncaring that the entire family still resides inside and she's starting to inhale smoke.

As Robyn tries to paint herself as a hero, Watts hacks one of the droids and sets it to self-destruct, telling it to run full-tilt at the group. Their weapons don't stop it and at the last second Marrow throws himself in front to take the blast, shattering his aura. Uh... after everything we've seen in this show, a single, small explosion wipes out his aura? I don't care about that so much here, but I absolutely care about it for an upcoming scene. Keep this in mind.

Also, I'm not going to get into the potential problems of trying to execute Marrow, beating up Marrow, and then blowing up Marrow. Others can tackle that leviathan of a subject.

At least he survived? But only RT knows if Robyn and Qrow bothered to put him on their ship.

Because as Atlas begins to fall Harriet, free of Marrow's semblance, races for an airship going off the edge of the open parking garage. Idk what else to call that space. I'm sure there's something appropriately military-esque, but we're going with parking garage for now lol. This is the one — one — moment where I felt like the Ace Ops were actually written like they weren't friends, what with Harriet's willingness to race off and leave them behind. Again though, it's too late and there are, frankly, other aspects to consider. Like the fact that Marrow just betrayed her. I don't think she's in the right mind for trusting the rest of her team, especially when there are only seconds to save herself.

Vine uses his stretchy arms to grab hold of her ship though and heaves himself on board.

Cutting to the jail, Ironwood wakes up and is greeted with a despondent Jacques. As Ironwood realizes that the group has the Staff, Jacques goes, "That's right, you lose! … we both lose." Before there can be any interesting discussion though, Ironwood's cell... goes out???

I suppose the explanation for this is things falling apart as Atlas descends, but man is that another moment of head-scratching convenience. What's even worse is that Winter apparently just left his weapons beside the cell. "Hey, what should we do with Ironwood's giant gun?" "Idk, leave it for him on the off chance us removing the city's power source wreaks havoc with the electrical bars?" I mean seriously. At least Qrow had to go find his weapon in a locker.

For a second Jacques is thrilled, sure that Ironwood will open his cell too... right?

He does open the cell, by blasting the whole thing to smithereens, Jacques included.

You all know I'm horribly disappointed with how they've written Ironwood, but I can't bring myself to dredge up any fury over this murder. It's Jacques. You know, the abuser and slave owner who has never shown a single shred of decency? Can't say I'm sorry to see him gone, especially since one of the Schnee girls were never going to kill him. The only other thing they could have done was have Jacques die an accidental death.

So villain!Ironwood can have another murder, as a treat.

Meme jokes aside, it's interesting that Ironwood's never-seen-before-last-episode gun produces a green blast and fire. It looks incredibly similar to what Penny created as an android and the fire around her Maiden eyes. Unlike Watts' apple though, I don't think this is a parallel RT intentionally included. Not unless we want to dig deep for more “Metal bodies = evil” symbolism, but there’s already plenty more persuasive examples of that. 

Returning to Team RWBY, we finally come to the highlight of the episode: Yang falling off the edge.

Okay, I want to praise RWBY for having the guts to kill off a main character... but we all know they haven't killed off a named character. If next episode — or perhaps even next volume — it's revealed that Yang is really dead, I'll happily eat these words. For now though, this is not the consequence that RWBY critics have asked for. This is, in fact, quite a mess.

Let's count up all the ways this scene has failed spectacularly.

No one believes that Yang is actually dead. Not just because she's a title character, not just because Ambrosius never confirmed that the void was deadly or even dangerous — "Don't fall," however ominous, doesn't actually tell us what happens to someone who falls — but also because we have been here before. Three volumes ago. Remember how it looked like Weiss would die only for Jaune to unlock his semblance and save her? Yeah. The audience is both genre and RWBY savey. This cliffhanger feels cheap because absolutely no one is fooled.

Feel familiar? 

Worse, Yang falls because of another round of stupidity. Nothing about this moment is convincing.

First, she notices Neo sneaking up on Ruby. What's her reaction? To flare her semblance, charge her in fury, and be horribly injured. Oh wow, where have we seen this before?

This is the exact same series of events from Volume 3. A loved one of Yang's is about to be harmed, she gets mad, charges without thinking, and takes the brunt of the attack herself, resulting in a far more serious injury than likely would have otherwise occurred. Emotionally understandable, but stupid. More importantly, it's the exact thing Tai tried to warn her about. The fandom praised Yang's arc because she got a moment of calm with Mercury, but since then we’ve ignored that development, reverting Yang to the same, impulsive fighter as before. Volume 6 showed us this problem in a non-combat setting and this moment solidifies it. Yang has learned absolutely nothing since Beacon. She's the same protective, reckless fighter she was back then, getting herself grievously injured because she can't think before she acts. What was the point of sending her on that journey if she was never going to improve? 

Neo cuts through Yang's aura in a single hit. A single hit. These characters have long, drawn out fights filled with crazy attacks and you're telling me a single slice of Neo's weapon is enough to shatter Yang's aura? Really, aura has been an absurd plot device for a while, but this volume has been particularly bad. Ren's aura breaks so the group is spotted by Salem's grimm, but then is back just a few minutes later so he can see purple petals around Emerald. Jaune's aura is said to be running just as low, but then is totally fine to boost Penny for the next hour until she reaches the vault. Now, Yang has had just as much time to rest as they do, but she’s instantly taken out?

This is a problem not because the loss of aura itself sends her over, but because the hit was apparently so powerful Yang passes out. She's groggy at least, blearily looking at everyone as she falls, but not reacting to them and, importantly, not trying to save herself. 

Yang could have reached for Blake's throw. She has a landing strategy. She could have blasted herself up, or towards any of the three paths she falls past. Instead she just... plummets. In a show where our characters are introduced through their ability to survive being launched off a cliff. Neo's attack needs to be miraculously incapacitating to justify — "justify" — Yang doing nothing to get out of this situation, in an episode where, minutes later, Ren's aura will also go out (again) but he's standing up and ready to fight a horde of grimm. But losing her aura through one hit somehow incapacities Yang?  

Also, to ward off the expected claims: she didn't hit her head. Yang's back hit the path and her eyes were closed before she ever made contact. Neo's hit just... knocked her out.

That's absurd.

Worse than her not helping herself, no one else on her team helps either. Except Blake. Ruby, who this volume has learned that she is basically able to teleport and negate the mass of carrying someone else, doesn't fly towards her sister. Weiss, who can summon flying grimm and create platforms for someone to land on, just reaches out a hand. They all had time to do something, Blake's action is proof of that, but neither of them did. Why? Because the show wants this to be a bees moment. I say that not as someone who hates the ship, but as someone who loves it. Or at least, I've always loved its potential, but if you need to prove their devotion by erasing the devotion of others... that's incredibly bad writing. And that's what this is. The choice to have Blake the only one capable of acting sends the message that she loves Yang enough to overcome the shock of her falling. That love powers her to act. But Yang is Weiss’ teammates too! Yang is Ruby's sister.

You’re telling me neither of them had the drive to push past shock and save her? 

I find it particularly insulting that Weiss comforts Blake rather than crumbling in grief herself. I find it doubly insulting that Blake cries and screams, but Ruby stoically continues her fight with Neo. In trying to show Blake's love for Yang — and hers in turn — the show has unintentionally pulled back on the love everyone else has, even between siblings. This is a far more harmful repetition of Yang's moment in the outpost: she cares more about the imagined disagreement with Blake than she does the actual fight she had with Ruby. Blake shows more emotion for Yang's assumed death than her sister has. You can't prove love by diminishing it elsewhere. The scene 100% needed all three girls doing everything in their power to save Yang, failing, and then continuing the fight while expressing the appropriate emotion for such a massive loss. Ruby can fly towards Yang and be pinned by Cinder. Weiss can start to summon and have an attack disrupts it. Ruby can scream and cry while she fights Neo. Again: that's her sister.

There's nothing about this scene that works for me and honestly? After Yang returns they better kiss. Or there better be an "I love you." Something canonical. There will never be a better, more obvious time for a confession than after Blake thinks she's lost Yang for good and if we don't get one... the ship has well and truly sunk. We're living in a post-Supernatural finale world. You can no longer take your one, implied to be queer main couple, toss one into this fantasy's version of super hell, give them a second chance together... and then leave things dangling. RWBY has to make them canon when Yang returns if they have any hope of maintaining a large portion of their queer fanbase.

As a final note on this scene, I don't like what it implies about both Blake and our lost civilians. Like Yang, (and like Penny last episode) this attack undermines the growth our characters have undergone. Yang learns not to attack out of emotion with her semblance... and then does just that. Penny learns that she's a person with an android body... and then gets a human body to make her perfect. Blake realizes that she isn't willing to kill people in this war anymore... and then goes after Neo with an intensity that implies she's ready to kill her. It's a detail that might have been meaningful if Blake's struggle had existed in more than a single line in a single scene. As it is, it just feels like they've forgotten — or are ignoring — another character beat they introduced. 

As for our civilians, will the show bring them back too? Look, I'm pleased Cinder blew them off the edge. I'm glad there were finally consequences for the kingdom-wide attack, even if none of have to come about from our main antagonist. But that impact was erased the second they threw Yang off the edge too. If they bring only her back, Team RWBY look like assholes who only care about their friends, not all the people they were charged with protecting (a recurring theme in this series). If they do bring the civilians back, we've lost that consequence. RWBY never should have tossed a title character into that void especially when, as said, everyone watching knows it's not a real consequence of this fight.

This was a terribly crafted scene, imo. If the only purpose here is to push the bees to confess, we could have gotten that after the whale. Yang was captured by Salem. That's more than enough danger to justify coming clean about feelings and the volume could have easily been reworked to make Blake aware of that danger, forcing her to stew in it until Yang returned, unharmed.

Instead we get this.

Also, I don't even want to get into the implications of having Yang disappear in a cloud of glittering gold dust like Pyrrha did. That's a world building rabbit hole RWBY really doesn't need.

So Yang is gone but obviously not gone. Blake is the only one impacted by this enough to react emotionally. Penny hears her scream and comes running, showing the viewer that absolutely nothing had changed despite getting an entirely new body. 

Cinder weirdly throws her voice — has she done that before? — to distract Penny and the fight continues, with Neo going after Ruby and Blake going after Neo. There's a moment where Blake realizes that Weiss is in trouble too, looking between her two teammates, unsure of who to help. 

I'm calling it now: Blake will be the third semblance upgrade, splitting herself into multiple fighters capable of functioning independently, rather than just shadow clones to take hits.

It would make as much sense as anything else.

Cinder at least is fighting smart, attacking the civilians rather than Weiss directly, then blowing her glass up in Weiss' face. She then manages to catch herself in the air, but, you know, couldn't do the same for Yang.

At the very least don't have Weiss using these abilities seconds later, c'mon.

We thankfully leave this nonsense for, well... more nonsense. Vine and Harriet get into a fight about what Clover would have wanted, which means nothing to the viewer because we didn't know Clover long enough to develop that sense for ourselves. I'm sorry, but following an order to peacefully bring Qrow in for questioning is not proof that he would have seen things through in the sense of blowing up Mantle, yet that's what we're supposed to believe based on Harriet's assertions and Vine's take that "perhaps Clover was wrong." I really hate that RWBY has taken to bashing the guy before he had the chance to actually do anything. Everyone is criticizing Clover based on lies or assumptions about what he might have done if, you know, he hadn't been murdered. Qrow blames Clover for defending himself, not his own choice to team up with Tyrian. Robyn asserts that Qrow is a better huntsmen than Clover, even though the one scene they had together was Robyn deciding to attack Clover because she didn't like him doing his job. Now Vine is like, "Yeah, Clover might have tried to blow up a kingdom needlessly, but maybe he was wrong and a bad person, you know?" I don't even like Clover that much, but the story has really gone out of its way to criticize him when he's obviously not around to prove, disprove, or otherwise defend himself. That’s messed up. 

The one good part about this scene is Harriet losing it, all her firm beliefs crumbling to reveal just an aching grief for losing Clover. Hark, is this humanity for the other Ace Ops I see? Some development and characterization? Vine reaching out sympathetically to comfort her because they've always been a team, no matter what Ruby might say about it?

Oh wait, no. They're interrupted by Robyn screaming as she slams her ship into theirs.

I think Robyn is, officially, my least favorite character in the series. Which isn't to say there aren't objectively worse characters than her — we saw one get blown up this episode — but no one has this particular combination of horrible acts, self-righteous attitude, and an absolute dearth of other positive qualities to distract from that. Robyn has brought nothing to the last two volumes except frustration and I can only hope she goes off to do her own thing when our finale is done.

Qrow goes feral, turning into a bird and changing at the last second to slam through Harriet's window. He taunts her about getting the fight she wanted and we see Watts hacking her ship while they're distracted.

Watts, I'm really loving the evil schemes, but don't you want to, uh... leave? Atlas is falling and you're one of maybe three people left on it. Best get a move on, chop, chop.

Those other two people are Winter and Ironwood, both of whom have come to the vault looking for Team RWBY. Ironwood lands a hit with his new gun, giving a short speech about how though he was always on the lookout for betrayal, he never expected it from her. He tells Winter to stand aside as his final order, to which she replies, “I’ve never wavered in fighting the enemies of this kingdom," preparing to fight.

I've explained the problems with Ironwood's downfall ad nauseam. I don't think that's needed again here. However, there are two final points I'd like to make.

Winter's characterization took a hit along with Ironwood's. Why didn't he think she'd ever betray him? Because they clearly cared for one another. The fact that Winter so quickly and easily gave up on Ironwood is a disservice to both of them. Even in the throes of being an emotionless killer, we still understand Ironwood's devastation at this betrayal: his shock when Winter attacked, his request that she step aside now, the single tear. 

There's nothing like that on her end. No denial that the man she faithfully followed would do this. No insistence that the man who helped her escape her abusive upbringing be reasoned with. Nothing. Winter dismisses Ironwood with the same callousness the narrative has.

Which brings me to my second point: this isn't hopeful. I know the Emerald lovers don't want me making comparisons, but the story has already done that for us. You can't give us an all out villain — someone responsible for countless deaths across the series, attacks on kingdoms, lying to our heroes, willingly working for the enemy  — and say that it's good to forgive her instantly, but it's not acceptable to even consider forgiving the man who has also killed, also threatened to attack a kingdom, was honest with our heroes, and always fought against the enemy. You can't give us an entire story about hope and forgiveness — Ruby reaching out to Raven, Weiss wanting to rescue Jacques, Oscar putting all his trust in Hazel — while saying that this character isn't worth compromising with. This character needs to be denounced to the whole world so there's no possibility of forgiveness. This character will commit horrific acts and his allies will immediately jump ship, but others? Their horrific acts are forgiven the moment you give them a way out. I'm supposed to believe that Yang, who knew Emerald only as the woman who attacked her school and has helped make their lives a living hell since then, will laugh with her within an hour, but Qrow, after years of being an ally and friend to Ironwood, is suddenly ready to murder him over an arrest he had no context for? That Ruby will try to make peace with every enemy she comes across, but not the guy who was the ally she betrayed? That Winter would extend more compassion to her abusive father than the man who helped her escape that? Ironwood's downfall isn't just horribly written, it messes with RWBY's core themes. Everyone deserves a second chance, is worth crying over, is worth reaching out to no matter how many horrible things they've done... except this guy here.

And when that guy is the PTSD riddled military vet who crumpled in large part because the heroes continually lied to, betrayed, and took extreme action rather than working to find a compromise... that's a really bad take. That shows a lot of bias on the part of RT. They're trying to write a story about the evils of the institution, but think they can reduce that to the evils of a single man driven to the brink. That doesn't send a teachable message to the audience and it certainly doesn't send a hopeful one. All it does is reiterate that if you rip away someone's support network when they're already falling they will, shockingly, fall harder.

Which brings us back to characters like Emerald. Because no, no one has to help Ironwood. When someone is hurting you and committing the crimes he has this volume, no one is required to extend a hand at their own, personal peril. But when the narrative is so heavily pushing forgiveness for other mass-murderers? When child torturers are extended a hand during the torture? That reframes everyone abandoning Ironwood into something unpalatable. Having Ironwood’s allies, friends, and really, family, so quickly toss him aside while other, equally bad people are welcomed in says that everyone struggling like him isn’t worth the effort. From a genre perspective, this isn’t a tragedy because the characters don’t care. No one is striving to bring Ironwood back from the brink. No one is crying over the man they lost. Hazel gets a moment of silence as Emerald kneels, stricken in the aftermath of his death, but one of the heroes since Volume 2 gets nothing but hateful looks from his second. 

But we all knew we'd end up here. My current theory? The portal should still be open at the vault. Winter will fight Ironwood, escape through it, and it will close right before he escapes too. He'll fall with Atlas and everyone will act as if it's some beautiful, poetic justice for him to perish with the city. 

Here’s hoping I’m very wrong! 

Finishing with Oscar's group, Ren's aura breaks after trying to mask everyone coming through the portal. Oscar realizes that Penny should have come through by now and runs back to find her, only to discover that the portal is closed on this side. Why? Because Weiss wished for a "one way trip to Vacuo." Not only is this another example of our heroes being stupid — they come up with this complicated wish that doesn't actually makes sense, but don't bother to be careful with their words like Ruby was when helping Penny? — but it also just... doesn't add up? How does Oscar know what Weiss wished for? How does Ozpin? (His one line in the episode.) They recall this together, the flashback acting like a memory, but neither of them were there. Neither was Ren. Neither was Emerald. They haven't spoken to the Relic group since separating.

It looks like RT still needs to edit their scripts.

As Oscar realizes they're trapped, the emotions of the group summons a huge number of grimm to the area. At this point, my only thought was why none of them had used the time Ren was buying them to try and find Vacuo. I mean, they're not the only fighters with semblances here. They have the Happy Huntresses too and, I would think, the Atlas students (unless the army was abandoned like Pietro and Maria were. Where are Neon and Flynt?) There's no one in this huge crowed with an ability that might make scouting ahead a little safer? No one is even going to try and figure some plan out? Everyone on these teams is too passive. They encounter a problem — where's the city? — and instead of trying to solve it while they can, while they’re in a good position to, they wait around until the situation becomes unimaginably worse and they have to figure something out or risk dying. Now, the people are being carried off by grimm, they know something has gone wrong on the pathways, and Ren is about to enter another fight without his aura. Let's hope he doesn't take a hit like Yang.

Summary of "Worthy"? Excellent villains, terrible heroes. It's better than what we've gotten in a while, but choices like Yang's fall ensures it's still not good. Given the trajectory of the volume, it was inevitable that we would end up here: moments that look significant at first glance, but are (quite likely) no more than window dressing in the long run.

Finally, bingo is rather boring this week. Unsurprising, considering we're almost out of space. I'm keeping our "Army of grimm conveniently doesn't kill any civilians" square checked because the point there was for Salem to kill people, not for the group to lead the refuges into a grimm infested desert. We'll have to see how many people they lose though and whether Atlas "somehow survives." Here, like Robyn, I'm talking about the citizens, not the now clearly doomed hunk of land. At this point, Oscar doesn’t seem to at all care about his near death experience, but I'll hold off on that square until we're truly done, and there's still a near certain possibility that Ironwood will die, with a likely possibility that Qrow grabs a bottle when first given the chance. What RWBY has avoided though is a Jacques-Watts team up 2.0. Considering, you know, Jacques is dead.

Gold star for not doing the expected, iffy thing, RWBY.

That's the square I would have least minded seeing though 😬

Anyway, finale next Saturday, folks! What insanity will the end bring? Only time will tell. But I can't wait to see what state the fandom will be left in for hiatus!

Until then 💜

[fallout-lou-begas]

Regarding @yesjejunus:

(mentions of rape, abuse, and trauma herein)

I have never made an effort to hide it on my blog before, but I want to make it clear that yesjejunus is my friend and I care about them. If you ask me, it should be extremely transparent to all onlookers that the attack against them this week is motivated by more of a personal grudge and obsessive vendetta than any actual concern for the "well-being" of anyone "endangered" by them, evidenced further by the poaching of personal information gleaned from defunct social media profiles for no actionable reason other than intimidation, the willfully outlandish misinterpretations of inside jokes between friends, and the mutilation of the definition of "grooming" and the excessive outright fabrications required to distort their friendship with some adults who happen to be younger than themself into allegations of predation on minors. Yejejunus has not ever actually done anything remotely justifying this punitive severity to any other human being, and if you have your own grievances about their art, then no one is holding, and no one has ever held, a gun to your head to force you to like them, or like their art or seek it out. The sheer volume of harassment that they have received for scarcely more than fanfiction and fanart that people can avoid on their own terms through proper tag filtering or blocking is frankly unjustifiable.

If you are upset by a work of art that you encounter in fandom or otherwise then it is not an interpersonal conflict between you and the artist. The artist has not harmed you, the artist doesn't even know you. Artists may have a responsibility to utilize tags and warnings appropriately on broad or big-tent platforms, and yesjejunus fulfilled this responsibility thoroughly, but ultimately an individual is responsible for their own artistic consumption and for avoiding the art that they want to avoid themself. If there is something that you are entirely incapable of seeing even a hint of without lapsing into some kind of retraumatization, and an artist tags art containing this thing appropriately, then the onus is on you to have it filtered out and the failure is on you if you have not. Assuming that every individual artist must be held "accountable" for whether their art could possibly upset someone or not, and assuming that any given individual is helplessly incapable of avoiding art that makes them upset, is a destructive perspective that flattens the ability of artists to create that which means a lot to them personally, lest their own experiences discomfort some hypothetical audience, and regardless of whether it may provide catharsis or revelation for another.

Additionally, to assume that any and all depiction of abuse of any kind is inherently an endorsement, or a "glamorization" or "fetishization," is to forget that discomfort can often be the point of a work of art, as it is in the case of horror. To be abused, or even to simply exist in an unhealthy relationship, is also to often endure complex, contradictory feelings in which hate and love and fear and dependence and violence and affection and misery and happiness exist hand-in-hand and even simultaneously. To treat portrayals of these kinds of relationships that embrace this uncomfortable nuance as "glorifying" them simply because it's not monochrome in a black-and-white morality play is both naive and insensitive. I also find the coercion of artists into disclosing their various traumas in order to "justify" their creation of their art, as if their trauma must be approved as sufficient by a committee, reprehensible; however I also do not believe that someone must inherently possess some form of trauma to depict it in art compassionately and meaningfully.

I also think that the mammoth amount of cognitive dissonance required to make this the hill that one dies on when the subject at hand is fanfiction and fanart of an 18+, rated-M video game series in which horrible and traumatic scenarios such as rape, slavery, domestic abuse, mass death, and graphic violence are depicted in abundance, and in certain ways with even less sensitivity or tact than the fanwork, shouldn't be lost on anyone, especially since you are far less able to excise these aspects from the source material than you are able to curate your participation in a fandom.

I want to reiterate that your opinions on yesjejunus, or me, or any user on tumblr or any artist on the planet are yours and yours alone to have. Who you follow, who you unfollow, who you block, and who you filter is purely your prerogative and you are encouraged to use any and all choices, tools, and mechanics at your disposal to avoid anyone that you wish, especially if it's for your own well-being. I wish that more people would utilize these options instead of cultivating a climate of fear and paranoia regarding who one “associates” with, and I do despise the term “associates” because it both reads far too much into a random reblog or reply, and reads far too little into a genuine friendship of mutual trust and care. Still, I am severely disappointed that I have to explain that the line is drawn at hounding an artist obsessively for years with flagrant disregard for their own trauma, blaming that artist for one's own complete failure to stop seeking out that which upsets them personally, and talking over or distorting the experiences and trauma of other people to suit one's own vindictive narrative, and this line has been crossed far, far beyond where it lays.

If you're offended or upset by this post then I beseech you to at the very least follow my advice in the previous paragraph and see yourself out, and may we only ever interact again at your deliberate discretion. If you refuse to do that and would rather call for my public quartering while using literally none of the myriad options at your disposal to remove me from your online experience at no charge, then go fuck yourself, and you may dislike my opinions but you can't un-laugh at my excellent shitposts.

Ed.: I would like to reblog this one more time add an addendum in order to bring attention to an update from yesjejunus themself about their side of the situation this week. They explain why they create the art that they do, as a method of coping with and processing their own trauma. It’s okay if you could not possibly imagine yourself coping with your own trauma, should you have it, in the same way. To label the creation of such art for such purposes as something inherently impermissible or ineffective is not only gravely insensitive but factually indefensible, and I must reiterate my own point that if how they do control their own trauma upsets or risks (re)traumatizing you, then why not ensure that you never see it by using the free and comprehensive blocking and filtering options available to you on this website instead of death marching someone who’s already deeply victimized? The word again is control. To control these traumas through fiction and art is an incredibly empowering, restorative thing, and to label this practice as nothing but harmful to others is to ignore the complex and multifacted ways in which trauma takes shape, or can be shaped.

[calciferous-kelpie]

Breaking Young Artists ft. Kirby

So I woke up today at 8AM (which is highly unlike me) with the extreme urge to write about my shitty experiences as a young creator online. I’ve never really talked about this with anyone before, at least not to the extent that I’m going to now. But yeah. Here we go. Yay.

Today we’re talking about the Kirby fandom, but it’s okay if you don’t know shit about Kirby because we’re actually talking about fandom gatekeeping more than anything.

Most of you probably didn’t know I was into the Kirby franchise at one point, and that’s completely intentional. I’ve put that part of my life far behind me, and let me tell you, I don’t look back on it with much fondness, despite the fact that I was in the fandom for years.

Here’s one of the many reasons why!

This is JP. My Kirby fan character from forbidden days no longer spoken of.

“Wait, so JP? Like… Jigglypuff?”

Yes.

“And this was your Kirby fan character?”

Yes.

“Oh.”

Yes.

My lack of creativity should be apparent to anyone who looks at this character. JP’s creation is lazy and self-indulgent. She is clearly the Pokemon Jigglypuff with some minor redesigns who was then shoved into the Kirby universe for no good reason.

When I first made her, I had no real intention of explaining why she was basically just Jigglypuff, but as I continued to develop her, I began to consider what it would be like to explain her appearance—to create a story where Pokemon and Kirby both existed together on, like, different planets in a vast universe. She was going to be half Jigglypuff and half… whateverthefuck you want to call Kirby’s species.

You can still find art of her buried deep in my DeviantArt gallery (as well as 21 chapters of a story I will never, ever complete), but I don’t talk about her anymore. And this is why.

It all happened back around 2010-2012, which meant I was about 12-14 at the time. This was back when DeviantArt was still the main hub for all artists (lmao) and tumblr was still kind of new on the scene. A cool new trend popping up in fandom spaces at this time was the creation of “your oc is terrible” tumblr blogs, which—as the term implies—existed simply to make fun of artists who had crappy characters. They would reupload artists’ works and laugh at how lame or unoriginal their designs were.

These people were trend-setters, making fun of cringe character designs before “cringe” was even a word used to describe them. And before you fall for the fun hipster wording here: no, this did not make them admirable. They were, in fact, assholes.

Some of these blogs liked to pretend they “poked fun” in the spirit of “constructive criticism” but very few of these people actually offered anything outside of insults. (Besides, even if their feedback had been constructive, none of these artists whose work they’d reuploaded had asked for this and probably should have just been left alone.)

You can probably see where I’m going with all of this. My art of JP was uploaded to a couple of these “crappy oc” blogs, and I was ridiculed for having dared to create a thing.

I discovered my art had been taken from my DeviantArt gallery and uploaded to tumblr (a site I didn’t even have an account on at the time) without my knowledge. My signature had been blocked out (to protect my privacy I guess??? lmfao) and my work had been openly mocked for the enjoyment of an audience. People complained about my shitty character, saying that she was literally just Jigglypuff dressed up to look like an OC. They rolled their eyes at her name and her appearance. And in no uncertain terms, I was deemed a bad artist and a bad member of fandom—a warning to other new artists of what to never be.

I wasn’t told any of this to my face, of course, which I guess was supposed to be a blessing. Rather, I had the lovely privilege of discovering that people were mocking me behind my back for their own satisfaction. It could have even been one of my friends who had brought my work up for mockery. I’ll never know.

But let me tell you, there’s not a lot that’s more discouraging than learning people are ridiculing you just out of earshot.

I wish I had had the foresight to take screenshots of the posts these people made. To document the insults and the way I was treated when I asked them to take my art down from their blog. Unfortunately, I don’t have that. I was young and ashamed and just wanted the experience to be over with. But you know what? The receipts don’t matter, anyway.

I don’t need to prove that I didn’t deserve that treatment.

Today, I acknowledge that my character was lame and kind of uncreative. But that certainly doesn’t mean that the people who made fun of me were in the right. I had never claimed to be a brilliant character creator—some great example of unique OCs and unparalleled storytelling. And hell, even if I had done that, it wouldn’t have given anyone the right to stomp on my imagination the way these people did. I was just a kid.

It’s 2021 now. I’m nearly 23 years old, and it’s been about a decade since this happened to me. I haven’t thought about this horrible event in detail for some time, but I need you to understand that even when I’m not actively thinking about this, my life as an artist is affected by it every day.

I’m still ashamed to share much of anything about my characters. I still worry constantly that I’m being cringey, self-indulgent, or a “bad artist.” Some days I manage to create with beautiful, reckless abandon, but then when the dreaming ends, I look back on what I’ve created and fuss, and worry, and doubt. (Ever wonder why you rarely see my work?)

I know the culture around OCs online has improved in a lot of ways since the 2010’s, but I still want to put this message out there. I want everyone to know why this sort of thing isn’t okay. I want my history to be documented so that maybe some new, excited artist doesn’t have to go through what I did.

TL;DR:

Never make fun of someone for having an uncreative or “cringey” character. It’s crappy to do to any artist of any age, but especially if you do this to a kid of all people—a young artist who is just learning the ropes and learning to be creative. This shit sticks with a person, and it can and will inhibit their ability to create amazing things in the future. If you put down an artist for being bad at design or being cringey, you are an awful person.

And to the people responsible for putting my dumbass little timmy’s-first-OC on tumblr blogs to be sneered at and mocked, I mean this will all my heart:

Fuck you! :)

[horseluvr00-ff]

A Place to Call Home | Chapter 21

Masterlist Here

Rating: T+

Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe

Genre/Warnings: action/adventure/family | kidnapping, violence, strong language.

Story summary: It’s been a few months since the Battle of New York. Steve Rogers is acclimating to life when he crosses paths with teenager Katelyn Sanders, a SHIELD recruit and highly valued asset with a dark past. Follow Kate’s adventure from SHIELD asset to Avenger to wanted fugitive over the course of her youth and into adulthood with her Avenging family. Follows Infinity Saga and beyond.

Words: 4,366

Disclaimer: Majority of properties within this fanfic are owned by Marvel/Disney. My OC Katelyn Sanders, as well as a few other unaffiliated things within this fanfic are of my own creation.

Author Note: Chapters usually average between 6k-8k words, but range from 4k to 10k. Relogs are welcome :) Please no plagiarism or reposts on other platforms. Updates occur weekly on Fridays, however posts on Tumblr usually occur Saturdays.

Full story available on FFN and A03 here and here

Chapter 21 can be found here on FFN and here on AO3 in full.

Check out a portion of Chapter 21 below:

Two Weeks Later…

As the days passed with Katelyn around, the team found themselves warming up to her considerably more so than expected. Surpassing the "week" Director Fury gave them with Kate, the team was given more time on the condition that Kate report to the SHIELD base in New York every few days and check in with Agent Hill. No one had put a solid number on when Kate's departure would be, even Fury. On the conditions that the team try to get information out of her, Fury was being lenient with Steve and his mission regarding the SHIELD recruit.

Kate was warming up to everyone. While certain conversations were bumpy, everyone was starting to work out the kinks with the recruit. She was still quiet regarding her abilities and the information SHIELD wanted from her, however such details were quickly moving to the back of the minds of the team as things become less professional and more relaxed - something Steve was striving towards. While most of the team, mainly Natasha, Clint and Bruce, were focused on keeping things semi-professional, Steve on the other hand saw an orphaned fourteen year old kid being trained as a child soldier. While Kate's parents weren't something Kate ever spoke of, it was something Steve put together by reading Kate's file as well as the information Fury gave him.

Tossing his jacket over one of the stools at the kitchen island of the communal floor, Steve rests his hands over the edge of the granite surface with a soft sigh.

He had just returned from a trip to the New York SHIELD base, Kate in tow. The meetings Kate had with Agent Hill weren't something Steve sat in on, rather he dropped Kate off at Hill's office and did some of his own work elsewhere for an hour before going to pick her up.

"How was it?" Clint speaks up, causing the Captain to turn and meet the archer's eyes as his teammate walked across the room towards the kitchen.

"It was alright," Steve nods, eyes returning to the counter for a moment before he turns around, leaning back against the surface, arms raising as he crosses them.

"Did Kate talk about the meeting at all?"

Steve is quiet for a few seconds as he shakes his head. "No… No she didn't. Although I try not to ask either… I don't want to pry."

Clint chuckles before nodding.

"She's not gonna bite your head off if you ask."

"Regardless it isn't my business," Steve's tone drops once he hears the amusement in Clint's voice.

"Since you've made her your business I don't think-"

"Clint." Steve states, cutting off the archer as he started to laugh before he could finish his own words.

Barton lifts his hands in a surrendering motion before shaking his head.

"You really crack me up sometimes," Clint mumbles.

"I don't want to step on her toes," Steve mutters, turning away from his friend to face the counter.

"You gotta keep in mind she's also an agent in training, Cap. The kid is used to a certain level of professionalism. You can ask her things and expect some sort of answer."

"I don't want to expect anything from her. If she's going to talk to me I want it to be because she trusts me with the information, not because she feels like she needs to tell me because I- outrank her er-..." Steve trails off, his brow knitting tightly as he processed the words himself.

Clint smirks lightly, eyeing Steve with a softening gaze before he begins walking and heads around the kitchen island.

"I get that when you look at her, you see a teenager… a kid," Clint starts, leaning on the counter opposite Rogers. "But when she looks in the mirror I doubt that's what she sees. In fact - she's being trained not to see that. Just be careful what image you project on her; she's bound to notice sooner rather than later,"

Steve is quiet as he processes the agent's words before ultimately nodding.

"Has Hill said anything?"

"No," Steve responds. "Not about Kate,"

"They're still out for that information?"

"Your guess is as good as mine."

Clint nods and looks down at the counter briefly, thoughts turning.

"Ever thought about what they want from her?" Clint asks, hands meeting the edge of the counter as he stands up straight. "The information about these locations this organization keeps kids at." Clint furthers.

"What about them?" Steve questions, arms crossing.

"All these kids SHIELD has in their pockets and she's the one with the information," Clint explains, shaking his head lightly. "... Does that seem at all off to you?"

Steve is quiet as his eyes slowly fall to the counter for a brief time.

"... Everything seems off to me these days," Steve ultimately mumbles.

Clint finds himself smiling at Steve's words before giving an agreeing shrug.

"Fair enough."

The sound of the elevator opening causes heads to turn as Kate emerges out of the lift, her eyes finding Steve and then Clint.

"Hey," Clint calls over, lowering his weight onto his forearms on the counter. "Hill wasn't too harsh was she?"

"Course not, sir." Kate shakes her head, a small smile on her face as she comes to a stop at the short side of the island adjacent to both adults.

"Has she been questioning you or perhaps asking you to- spy on us?" Clint smirks.

Kate's smile widens as she gives a small shake of her head, eyes meeting Steve's for a brief time.

"Eh well… You can tell us if you ever feel like spilling," Clint adds before standing up straight. "I gotta get some training out of the way. I'll leave you to it," He sighs before walking for the door.

Kate nods in response to his words and watches the agent leave before she turns towards Steve with a small smile.

He smiles in return, eyes falling briefly before he looks around the kitchen.

"I was gonna make a sandwich, are you hungry? I can make you something."

Kate is quiet for a moment as the Captain walks around the island before she nods.

"That'd be nice. Thank you," Kate leans forward over the island, her arms stretching out over the cold surface as she watches Steve open the pantry doors to grab the loaf of bread.

"Not to sound nosy, but, are these meetings with Hill going alright?" Steve looks over his shoulder, tone light as he brings the bag around onto the island.

Kate eyes Steve quietly for a brief time before she nods and clears her throat.

"They're good." Kate nods, her eyes dotting about the countertop before her subtle smile falls and her gaze jumps back up rather quickly. "Did- you want me to report on those conversations? Sir?"

"Oh- no! No-" Steve responds quickly, her distress impacting him as he brings two plates over. "Those conversations are between you and Agent Hill, it isn't something you need to tell me if you're not comfortable with that," Steve explains quickly, eyes turning back down to the counter as he placed the plates onto the surface before turning towards the fridge.

Kate swallows and nods, pulling her lips tightly together before returning her gaze to the counter surface.

"That being said…" Steve trails off, grabbing a few packages of lunch meat and cheese from the fridge, placing them on the counter quickly before turning back towards the fridge. "I- wouldn't mind knowing the little details you're comfortable sharing."

Kate smiles gently before nodding, her feet carrying her around to the long side of the counter opposite Steve where the stools were. Taking a seat at one of them, her eyes return up towards Steve's actions as he brings out a tomato and chunk of lettuce from the produce drawer of the fridge.

"Today she was just asking about my injury," Kate responds. "Other than that, she talked a little about my training."

"Training being- what it will look like for the future?" Steve asks.

"No, just- whenever it starts back up again, she was describing how we'd progress depending on how I test once I get back," Kate explains, meeting Steve's eyes as he slows his action.

His eyes meet Kate's for a short time before his gaze falls to the sandwiches he was preparing, his expression revealed his uncertainty regarding her words. Not the validity of them, but the context of them. Steve could recall multiple arguments he'd had with Hill regarding Kate's welfare. Not that she was cold-hearted, but she approached the Oriah program in a very cut and dry way, something Steve was finding himself disagreeing with more and more.

"Turkey or ham?" Steve questions gently, lifting both containers.

Kate's eyes meet the containers in Steve's hands before giving him a small smile.

"Um, ham, thank you."

Steve nods quietly before he begins preparing both sandwiches, one with turkey and one with ham.

"Do… You want to go back?" Steve knew the question was on the more controversial side. It was a topic Kate was hesitant to discuss as it put all the decision making on her end.

"I-..." Kate trails off, lips still parted, mouth open as she quickly searches for the words.

"Considering you- broke out of this installation in Canada, I figured-"

"Things were different there," Kate interrupts his words, eyes locked on the countertop as she wrung her hands tightly.

Steve remains silent following her brief explanation, focus turning towards the sandwiches as the room as a whole fell silent.

This is how most conversations with Kate went. Things would be casual, however there would eventually come a turn in the conversation that made Kate fall quiet, causing the atmosphere to turn quite uncomfortable.

Finishing up the sandwiches, Steve brings both plates around the counter, placing his own in front of one of the stools before holding out the second plate towards Kate.

"Thank you," Kate responds quietly, taking the plate as she pulls together a brief smile before setting it down onto the counter.

"You're welcome," Steve chuckles, taking a seat at the stool next to Kate. "Feel free to raid the pantry or fridge whenever you're hungry,"

Kate nods, another small smile breaking across her face at Steve's words. He would make sure to tell her that rather frequently. While Kate wasn't comfortable doing as such, she enjoyed hearing Steve remind her of the fact, hoping one day it would just click and she'd feel comfortable enough to do so by his words.

The rest of chapter 21 can be found here on FFN and here on AO3. Take a peak to keep reading!

Stay healthy, stay safe, sending lots of love. <3 

Masterlist Here

[shadesofdeviant]

Meet Me By The Mistletoe

Pairing: IronStrange Fandom: MCU Rating: G

The early hours of December 1st saw Tony Stark in his exhaustion riddled bouts of wisdom, balancing precariously atop a step ladder as he tried to string garish strands of lights across the ceiling of the common room, singing ‘Santa Baby’ loudly and proudly off-key at the top of his—albeit slightly diminished—lungs.

My entry for the IronStrange Reverse Big Bang over at @ironstrangehaven. Based on the beautiful artwork by @ironstrange-is-the-endgame​ who was such a delight to work with.

Can be read here or on AO3. Whichever you prefer.

The early hours of December 1st saw Tony Stark in his exhaustion riddled bouts of wisdom, balancing precariously atop a step ladder as he tried to string garish strands of lights across the ceiling of the common room, singing ‘Santa Baby’ loudly and proudly off-key at the top of his—albeit slightly diminished—lungs. Hips swaying to his own internal beat, glittering tinsel wrapped around his neck like the feather boa of some Vegas showgirl and an oversized Santa hat perched atop his head that kept slipping down into his eyeline every time he looked up, Tony made quite the sight as various members of the team grumpily slouched into the area having been woken up by what sounded like a cat being strangled underwater.

“Tony? What the hell are you doing?” came Rhodey’s call of disbelief, that somehow managed to be louder than both Tony’s singing and Friday’s exasperated instructions combined, the AI trying valiantly to help direct the lights straighter despite her boss clearly not paying attention to her guidance.

“Oh! Hey Honey bear! It’s December, that means it’s Christmas!” Tony laughed, the sound slightly manic as he tried to turn on his perch and almost fell off. “I’m making the Tower look all festive and shit!” he added with a completely unnecessary sweep of his hand around him as if anyone could have missed the chaos that resembled an explosion in Santa’s workshop around them.

“I—Tones, I get that bit even if I do personally think it’s a little bit too early for this, what I meant was: What are you doing singing that loudly and putting decorations up at 5:30 am?” Rhodey replied, his voice much softer now his best friend wasn’t trying to deafen them all.

Yet, all that achieved from the eccentric billionaire was an elongated blink, as if Tony believed if he took long enough to do so everyone would vanish and reveal it was just his imagination before he slowly raised his arm to gaze at the watch strapped around his wrist in confusion. Because surely it wasn’t that—

Oh. Oh.

“Oops?” Tony offered, wincing as he gazed sheepishly over at the group stood watching him, the whole thing looking ridiculous as the hat once again slipped down over his eyes. “I thought that was 5:30 pm. I was wondering where everyone was actually.”

“When was the last time you slept Tones?” Rhodey dared to question, pinching the bridge of his nose, partly in disbelief, but mostly to hide the amused smile at his friend’s actions.

Boss has been awake for almost 84 hours sir.

“Thank you, Friday.” was said at the exact time Tony muttered an almost petulant “Traitor.”

Without another word, which was probably a testament to how many times this had happened in the past, Tony let the string of lights drop and climbed down the ladder, allowing himself to be led away by his oldest friend past the other Avengers—all of whom were kept quiet about their rude awakening by the War Machine glare shot their way—and guided up to his penthouse and into his room, where Rhodey went through the familiar routine of nudging Tony into his en-suite bathroom to get changed and ready for bed, before finally all but shoving him into bed with strict instructions not to move for at least five hours and disappearing once again back to his own room.

Tony sighed and resided himself to five hours of laying there bored out of his mind, thankful that he had access to his blueprints and schematics from wherever in the tower he was, otherwise he would have gone stir crazy in minutes. The truth was that despite his reputation for spending all hours in his workshop, ever since Stephen Strange had literally appeared out of nowhere into his life with a shower of orange sparkles, and promptly magicked his way into Tony’s affections, the mechanic had been getting a fairly regular amount of sleep.

Apparently once a Doctor, always a Doctor, and Stephen had taken Tony’s lack of self-restraint in the workshop as a personal slight, often turning up to forcibly portal the billionaire off into bed. And if Tony managed to convince Stephen to climb into bed with him in order to make sure he behaved then that was all for the better.

However, in true ‘Stark style,’ once Tony had gotten used to having Stephen in bed with him while he fell asleep, it had become increasingly difficult for him to do so without him. Now, every time Stephen was away fighting some inter-dimensional threat that even his brilliant imagination couldn’t fathom, Tony struggled to fall asleep; and if he did, he often woke up multiple times a night with his night terrors until he gave up and barricaded himself in his workshop, preferring to wait for Stephen to return so he could sleep then instead.

This time, Stephen had been gone for three nights already with no real idea of how long he’d be, promising Tony he’d aim to be back for Christmas Eve, but could otherwise not say when he would be home. Tony had been disappointed that they wouldn’t get the chance to spend the lead up to Christmas together, but the absence had also given Tony the chance to create the perfect Christmas presents for his Wizard partner without giving anything away to those sharp, curious, two-toned eyes that had an uncanny ability to sweep once across his work and be able to work out what he was building.

Reaching across for his Stark pad tucked away in his bedside drawer, Tony smiled as he scrolled through everything he had planned for Stephen. His plans for such an extravagant Christmas had begun almost a month ago. The pair of them had been laid in bed, Tony’s head propped up against Stephen’s stomach as he lay perpendicular across the width of the bed, reading out loud from the list of Iron Man merchandise that Stark Industries were planning on releasing for Christmas, trying not to purr as Stephen’s slightly trembling fingers played with his hair. Offhand, Tony had held up the holopad to show Stephen the designs for Iron Man naughty Santa briefs and joked about getting the first pair as a gift for the Sorcerer, when Stephen had laughed, fingers pausing against his scalp and explained that he hadn’t really celebrated Christmas since before he’d become a surgeon.

Knowing how long ago that was, Tony had blinked in shock up at his partner, before the sharp wave of determination had swelled within him, deciding in an instant that he was going to give Stephen the best Christmas he’d had in years. This year would not be a simple exchange of presents on Christmas day before going off to work, Tony was going to use the whole month to his advantage until Stephen had Christmas cheer coming out of his ears.

Tony had explained how he and Jarvis—the original one, not the AI—had quickly come to develop a ritual of sorts over the years, in which on the four Mondays leading up to Christmas gifts were exchanged. Thus ensuring that the full month was considered festive and everyone involved felt appreciated. Knowing from personal experience how such a small weekly act could liven the mood of what to most is an incredibly dark month, Tony had carried on the tradition long beyond Jarvis' passing by gifting toys to Children's hospitals, supplies to public services and such. But this was the first time since losing his only decent Father figure that Tony had wanted to try the tradition on someone close to his own heart.

Of course, that plan had completely collapsed in on itself when Wong had turned up to warn him of some threat causing havoc in other dimensions that needed his immediate attention, and Tony had barely had time to kiss Stephen good luck before the Sorcerer was vanishing through a portal to go do his thing.

But that didn’t mean Tony was going to completely abandon his plans, no sir. Even if he was planning on delivering Wong the biggest bag of coal in punishment for stealing his wizard away at such a pivotal time, he was still determined to get Stephen’s gifts sorted.

Once he was sure Rhodey wouldn’t come to check on him, Tony got up and re-dressed before sneaking back down to the workshop to start working on the actual creation of his gifts, quickly setting Friday to the lock-down protocol to ensure he wouldn’t be accosted and sent back to bed like an unruly child. He was going to use his time to ensure Stephen was utterly spoilt, and Rhodey and the others could kick and scream and pound on the windows of his workshop all they wanted but he wasn’t leaving.

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

Monday 3rd December saw Tony sneaking his way into the Sanctum Sanctorum—although he doubted he was actually sneaking in unnoticed, he may be bitter towards Wong right now, but the man was not that oblivious—and making his way upstairs towards Stephen’s bedroom. The man was still not back, but a quick phone call to Wong had assured him that the Sorcerer would be returning ever so often to replenish his strength, but not long enough to include a trip to see Tony. As much as that fact stung, Tony was focusing on the positive, that Stephen would be returning to the Sanctum and would hopefully be able to find the gifts Tony would be leaving every Monday up until Christmas Eve when they should—hopefully—be reunited once more.

Setting the ornate, slim, velvet box onto the bedside table, Tony stepped back and shuffled around the room to make sure it would be visible from all angles, before setting a small envelope atop the box, propped against the bedside lamp. Nodding to himself in approval, Tony span on his heel and rushed out of the building, forgetting all sense of stealth as he raced and all but dived into the car where Happy was waiting patiently for him to return, holding his chest as he tried to calm his thumping heart of its nerves.

Inside the box he’d found tucked away in his closet, Tony had painstakingly laid out a pair of rich, dark apricot leather gloves, the wide gauntlet cuffs, embossed with a small row of runes asking for strength, support, dexterity and calm that Wong had aided in the design of, and had helpfully agreed to activate before Tony had placed them in the box. Whilst they appeared to be normal gloves, Tony had spent hours fusing the insides of the fingers and back of the hand with supports; lightweight, conductive splint-like supports that worked in sync with Stephen’s hands and not only helped to soften the tremors, but offered strength and grip to do things that the Sorcerer normally had to rely on magic or the cloak to do. All without dampening his magical output, or at least Wong had said so when he’d been badgered into testing them out. The envelope atop the box contained a rarely done hand letter, the beginning a little scratchy with how Tony had all but forgotten how to write on real paper.

Dearest Stephen,

Today is the first Monday of December and the first of your gifts for the holidays. I know you’re off fighting some weird alien, magic squid-like Gandalf, but Wong has assured me you’ll be returning at some point to recover your strength. If he lied to me I’m downgrading him from coal to an Orange! Anyway, I hope you don’t mind the gloves, I wanted to make them subtle whilst still offering you the support and strength you might need. Plus this way if you think about it, whenever you wear my technology, it’s almost as if I’m there with you to hold your hand. I hope that gives you the strength you might need in whatever darkness or despair these dimensions lead you to.

Stay safe Dumbledore. Remember, help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it.

Love, Tony.

What Tony hadn’t been expecting when he arrived back at the Tower, was to find the common area completely decorated. Ever since his attempts at decorating had been thwarted two days previously, Tony had been locked in his workshop and had not bothered to continue with his interior decorating in case the others had tried to stage an intervention and tie him to the bed. But he had assumed that everything would have been left how he had abandoned it. Except now, the lights were strung across the ceiling delicately, leading the eye like runway stripping to the large real-life tree in the corner of the room, perfectly decorated in a rather explosive amount of colours to try and accommodate every superheroes costume choices. Even more amazing, was the mistletoe branches hanging innocently over every doorway leading to the rooms, support beams, the stairs and even the elevator where he’d just come from.

“Ah! Friend Tony!” jumping at the sudden booming voice from across the room, Tony blinked as he realised Thor was still by the tree, somehow camouflaged against the branches despite his size and stature, his fingers surprisingly gentle as he attached baubles to the Christmas tree. “Do you approve of our attempts at your Midgardian decorations?”

“I—Yeah! Point break this looks amazing thank you!” Tony grinned, eagerly moving forward to take a closer look at the tree. “You did this by yourself?”

“Nay, I had help from the man of Spiders. He explained a lot of the traditions to me. Including your strange adaptation of our mistletoe tradition.” Thor returned the grin with one of his own as he attached a Spiderman themed bauble to a branch, leaving Tony to wonder where it had even come from. “Did you know that the mistletoe comes from Asgard? Brave Balder was slain with an arrow of mistletoe, which was then given to the Goddess of love who mounted it and declared that all who passed beneath the arrow must share a kiss to celebrate the new meaning of love not hatred for the flora.”

“Really?” Tony queried, blinking up at the God of Thunder in a mix of confusion and awe.

“Really man of Iron. And on that note--” Thor started before pointing upwards to the support beam above the tree, where a small bundle of mistletoe was hanging, barely giving Tony time to register what it was before the God was bending down to press an almost bruising, loud, brotherly kiss to Tony’s cheek and proceeded to saunter off towards his room as if nothing was out of the ordinary and he hadn’t left one of the most intelligent men on Earth spluttering, lost for words.

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

Monday, December 10th came and Tony smiled as Wong opened the door this time to let him in, not bothering to hide the roll of his eyes as he stood to one side and let the genius head off towards Stephen’s bedroom again. Upon opening the door, Tony felt his grin widening when he spotted the envelope had been opened and carefully tucked into the book Stephen had been reading on his bedside table, the box left open and empty on the bed, which the mechanic hoped meant the Sorcerer was currently off fighting the forces of evil wearing his new gloves.

This time, Tony sat a large, rather heavy, ornate box down on the bed, rubbing at his lower back as he groaned and stretched back to try and ease the strain in his muscles. Depositing another envelope on the box as he turned to leave, Tony stopped in the hallway only to cheerfully hand Wong a lump of orange coal, having decided to combine his punishments for maximum annoyance. Tony barely getting chance to enjoy the look of sheer annoyance he got in return, before he was running from the sanctum and laughing rather obscenely as the coal suddenly multiplied with a swift wave of Wong’s hands and started to chase him, diving down to pelt him like he was being hit with bags of chalk dust, until his once pristine designer suit was covered in orange smudges.

It had been so worth it though.

Dearest Stephen,

Second Monday, which means the second present. I hope you’ve managed to return by now to find your first one, if not, then you’re being even more spoilt by having two presents to open at once. This time I had to really go out of my comfort zone to find what was needed, but I guess that’s all I’ve been doing ever since I met you. You’ve really opened my eyes to what I’ve always believed impossible, and I’m not just talking about your magic (which I’m still determined to prove through science) but the way you’ve managed to make me believe that something about me is still worth loving. As for your gift, I found this wonderful little shop and got you your own personal Grimoire. I know you’ve been working on your own spells and other stuff I don’t understand, but apparently, this kind of thing is helpful? I hope this helps to show how much I’ve embraced your world, as much as I like to make fun of it. You amaze me with the stuff you can achieve, and your strength and power just utterly astound me every time I see you in battle. I hope this can be of assistance to you to help expand that vast knowledge of yours.

Whoever you’re fighting, make sure to give them an extra kick from me. I don’t appreciate you being taken away from me.

Love, Tony.

Back at the tower, Tony laughed as he found Peter and Ned covered head to toe in flour in the kitchen area, the remains of what looked like an attempt at cookie dough forgotten on the counter in favour of some kind of flour fight.

“This looks productive,” Tony smirked, laughing as the boys jumped and turned to look at him guiltily.

“M-Mr. Stark! W-We were making cookies!” Peter spluttered in his attempts to speak fast enough, his eyes widening as Tony tugged his slightly ruined suit jacket off and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt.

“Awesome, let's get baking then shall we?”

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

When Tony pushed his way into Stephen’s bedroom next Monday on the 17th, he couldn’t help but sigh in relief when he saw the grimoire had been opened and moved to the end of the bed. Unable to resist, Tony crept closer and carefully reached to open the book, only to yelp as he was shocked like he’d just ran his hand across a bunch of static.

“A Sorcerer always guards his grimoire against outsiders Stark.” Wong’s irritatingly monotone voice spoke from the doorway. “You would do well to not touch, as hard as that may be for you.”

“You know me too well Wong, I just can’t help but touch,” Tony smirked, enjoying the way Wong’s eyebrow raised in a telltale sign of amusement. Or irritation, Tony always seemed to cause one or the other in the other Sorcerer. "I was just curious about what Goatee'd Merlin was planning on creating."

“Yes well, I assume you are here to leave your next needless gift? Stephen has become almost distracted by it all whenever he returns. It was unclear whether I would let you in today, he needs to remain focused on his job, not wondering what the next gift he’s going to receive from the Iron Santa.” Wong retorted, clearly concerned about Stephen’s work ethic, but without any real heat behind his warning, Tony almost proud of himself to be able to recognise the fact the Librarian was approving of the attention Stephen was getting. Even though he'd probably rather spend time locked in with Tony than admit he cared for his fellow Sorcerer.

That aside, it didn’t help the slight sensation of guilt that bubbled in Tony’s gut. He hadn’t wanted to distract Stephen from his job, only leave him gifts to celebrate the season even with him dimensions away, wanting the Sorcerer to know he was being thought of and missed. Setting the small jewellery box down on the bedside table once again, Tony snatched a pen from Stephen’s desk and hastily tore open the envelope of the letter he’d written, ignoring as Wong walked away muttering to himself about idiot engineers, and quickly penned a postscript onto the end of his letter, before tucking it back into the envelope and setting it on the new box.

This was another one of Tony’s inventions, a small, almost delicate, round talisman, engraved into the shape of one of Stephen’s signature mandalas. He hadn’t needed any kind of help with recreating magical symbols this time, Tony had watched the Sorcerer work so often that he practically had the whole sequence of mandalas memorised depending on what he needed them for. And true to Tony’s form, the talisman was embedded with a small tracking device that remained quiet and resistant to magic. Call him paranoid, see if he cares, but he felt better knowing that he could potentially know where Stephen was when he wasn’t in his direct vicinity.

Dearest Stephen,

Here is gift number 3. I saw that you’d opened gift number 1 so I’m hanging onto the idea that you’re still managing to get home in time to see the gifts. Your third gift is a talisman. Nothing magical, I didn’t know how it would react since I recreated your signature designs, I didn’t want to accidentally teleport you somewhere every time you put it on. I won’t lie though, it contains a tracking device that I have connected to my satellites. The strength of it should mean that no matter where you are on Earth, or even to a certain distance in space I will be able to locate you. I’m not sure how it works through dimensions, but if there’s ever a time I need to come to help you on Earth, I am determined to make sure I can get there as soon as possible. I hope you don’t find this too clingy or smothering, but I just want to keep you safe. It works both ways too, if you need me, you can use it to call for me, or find where I am.

It drives me insane not being able to follow you through the dimensions, but knowing I can get to you in this dimension helps my peace of mind. I hope you don’t mind.

Love, Tony.

P.S. I just tried to open your grimoire and got a shock. Wong enjoyed that far too much. I’m writing this extra bit as I drop off your third gift this time because Wong said something that bothered me. I never wanted to distract you from your work with these gifts. Please stay safe and come back to me okay? Focus on defeating the big bad and then we can spend Christmas together.

More love, Tony.

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

Christmas Eve rolled around both far too quickly and not fast enough for Tony’s liking. The final Monday before Christmas meant the final gift for his Sorcerer. He had spent the previous night sprawled across the sofa in the common room, Peter tucked against his side, the rest of the Avengers gathered around them on various surfaces as they watched a variety of Christmas movies. There had been a Stephen shaped hole next to him on the other side of the sofa, but he had quickly squashed the feeling, knowing the Sorcerer was working hard and hadn’t entirely gone off on his own violation. That didn't detract from the fact that Tony felt both incredibly prepared for Stephen's return and yet so worryingly not ready at the same time.

The final gift was probably not as physical as the rest, but Tony was confident that Stephen would understand the meaning behind it and appreciate the trust involved in such a gift. But that did nothing to stop the nerves from rolling in his stomach as he stepped through the main doors of the Sanctum, already able to tell Stephen was back, just from the way the building felt around him, it filled him with a sense of euphoria that he knew wasn’t entirely his own, as if the Sorcerer’s building was excited that its Master was back permanently for the time being.

However, as Tony stepped into the bedroom, whistling happily and once again wearing his oversized Christmas hat and the comfiest brushed cotton designer cardigan he owned, his glasses perched on his nose to try and ease the strain of the past few weeks work, Tony frowned as he found the room empty. His gifts had been moved, the grimoire now tucked carefully onto a shelf, and his empty gift boxes stacked neatly on the bedside table but otherwise not a single sign of the Sorcerer even being here.

Just as he was about to leave, since his final gift had nothing to be left behind, Tony blinked as he spotted a small envelope atop the empty gift boxes with his name on. The excitement once again building, Tony grinned and quickly snatched it up, feeling like he would expect a giddy child would on Christmas morning as he hastily tore open the flap and tugged the small fold of paper out of it.

Meet me by the mistletoe.

Frowning at the vague, anonymous note that he only just recognised as being written in Stephen’s stereotypical Doctor’s handwriting, Tony forgot about leaving the note he'd prepared just in case behind for his partner and instead returned home, still clutching the slim piece of paper from Stephen in his hand even as he stepped into the elevator and then out again onto the common room floor.

The soft tinkling of Christmas music had Tony snapping out of his daze, attention refocusing on his surroundings, his eyes widening as he found the entire crew gathered in the lounge area having a Christmas Eve party, food and drink cluttering up every available surface as everyone stood around in groups chatting and generally having a good time. Those caught under the mistletoe laughed and obligingly pecked at each other’s cheeks before rushing off once more, determined not to get caught out again, apart from Thor who seemed to enjoy loitering under the foliage as if determined to get a kiss from everyone before the clock struck midnight.

Since everyone was in various forms of Christmas regalia, Stephen was visible almost instantly as he stood to one side having what seemed to be an in-depth conversation with Bruce about something scientific, Peter stood beside the pair of them, head swivelling like he was observing a tennis match, eyes glittering in awe as he listened to them speak. Still dressed in his traditional robes and sentient cloak, Stephen’s hair was a little windswept, and Tony was struck by the possibility that Stephen had come straight there after leaving him his note, and that was all the nudge Tony needed to make his way over to the group.

The conversation stopped instantly as Bruce caught sight of his approach, the Doctor quickly taking his leave and wandering off to find someone else to talk to, managing to somehow find himself ensnared under the mistletoe by Thor who jovially declared that Bruce was the first to receive his third kiss before promptly kissing his cheek sharply.

“I thought I was supposed to meet you by the mistletoe?” Tony teased, holding up the paper aloft as Stephen quickly turned to face him, his cloak eagerly perking up and waving a corner at him in greeting as it detached from Stephen's shoulders, which he returned happily. Yet, what really caught Tony’s attention was the shining silver of the talisman around Stephen’s neck that settled snug and flat against his chest just above the eye of Agamotto, as well as the deep, rich, apricot coloured leather, wrapped securely around the Sorcerer’s hands. He was wearing his gifts. Stephen was wearing the gifts he made for him and wearing them proudly, and suddenly the long month waiting had been worth it.

“Well...” Stephen began, before he lightly nudged his head back in a small upwards gesture, causing Tony to glance up and laugh loudly as he found Peter now attached to the ceiling, one sleeve of his uniform on as he held a sprig of mistletoe—the one from above Thor if the God’s petulant pout was anything to go by—over their heads with a cheeky grin on his face as he winked at the mechanic.

“Oh, would you look at that. How convenient, I guess it is a tradition...” Tony hummed as he returned his focus to Stephen’s face, swallowing at the way his eyes had darkened in those short moments his attention had been elsewhere. “Did you know the tradition actually comes from Asgard? Something about Balder getting shot with an arrow m--”

Anything else Tony had been trying to explain was lost as Stephen suddenly moved and curled his large, leather encased hands around his face and held him steady as he lowered his head to press his lips to Tony’s, effectively cutting off his rambling. The grip on his face was sturdier and stronger than anything he’d felt before with the Sorcerer, and somewhere in the back of his mind Tony congratulated himself on a job well done, the rest of him however, ignoring that little boost to his already large ego as he eagerly wrapped his arms around Stephen’s neck and pushed up into the kiss, one hand sinking into the hair at his nape, the other sliding to gently rest over the sharp point of the Sorcerer’s cheekbone, the rest of the world disappearing until there was only this moment here and now, where Stephen kissed him, that talented tongue tracing a familiar path, promising so much but remaining reserved, because at least one of them seemed to stay attentive to the fact they were not alone.

Pulling away a few moments later, Tony smiled as he moved to wrap his arms around Stephen properly in an embrace, sighing at the familiar feeling of warmth and security and a slight bit of static that Tony always attributed to the man’s magic. From his new position, Tony could enjoy the way the shine of the talisman complimented the rich colours of the Sorcerer’s robes, his fingers curiously moving to play with it as he simply enjoyed being close to the person he’d missed the most this season.

“Oh!” Tony suddenly exclaimed pulling back, tucking Stephen’s note back into his pocket which he was somehow still holding onto, and retrieving another envelope that he’d intended to leave in the Sanctum. “Here’s your final present,” he explained, handing the paper over to the other man, watching nervously once again as Stephen took it and carefully peeled it open, unfolding the paper inside and reading over the words on the page. It only takes a moment before Stephen’s head shot up in surprise to meet Tony’s gaze.

“Is this what I think it is Tony?” Stephen questioned softly, fingers playing with the paper in what was his own nervous type of gesture. “Are you sure about this?”

“Of course I’m sure. I trust you, and, you’re probably one of the only people who would understand what that means, and I want you to have it.” Tony explained, ignoring the now curious looks of everyone else as Stephen pulled Tony flush against his side with one arm as the other clutched carefully to the paper. Written out across the final gift wasn’t another letter, but a list of codes and commands. Codes and commands to Friday’s systems, that allowed Stephen the same level of control as Tony had himself, meaning the Sorcerer could override commands, set up protocols and even tear them down, including ones that Tony himself had set up. Tony had already programmed Friday to accept Stephen’s orders at the same level as his own, and she had seemed rather happy that Tony was at such a point in their relationship already that he was allowing his partner to have the same level of control as he did.

“Thank you, Tony, this has been the best Christmas I’ve had since I was a young boy,” Stephen spoke softly, leaning for another kiss even though Peter had long since moved away to return the mistletoe to Thor after caving under his glare.

“Oh darling, you think this was good, just wait until next year.” Tony laughed softly, going easily into the kiss with an almost dreamy sigh. “Just you wait.”

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

[noecat]

tumblr crushes challenge!

in which you post your own favorite blogs to spread positivity and get your amazing blogger-friends some more followers!

tagged by @kizunah (im lov u) n @hazelnatcoffee (ive not stopped sobbing since i saw u tag me aksdjf thank u sm <3) !! ✨✨✨

aksdjf normally i dont even do these but im takin th opportunity to scream abt how much i lov mariam so !! :D enjoy

ive tagged @kizunah, @hazelnatcoffee, @hinamie, @sftae, @geminest, @belovedsheith, @phoapostrophes, @gansaey, @hcseokie, @dotingdamen, @kattenprinsen and non-mutual but very admired @d-a-z-a-i and @novocaine-sea​!! (also the ultimate tumblr crush otasucc whomst im not tagging bc im scared)

i will yell abt these ppl and how much i lov them under cut so as to avoid a 50 page long post :’D 💕

mariam @kizunah: iv no idea how u managed to go from ‘vaguely intimidating incredibly talented writer i look up to’ to ‘incredibly talented writer i look up to tht sends me memes at 3am and has made me fall in lov w two (2) soft pining bois’ so fast but.....u did tht......now our chat is th first thing i check when i wake up in th morning it’s the Start To My Day i hope u r happy..... follow mariam for solid pastel aesthetic and hauntingly beautiful writing tht will give u heartbreak by proxy !! 💕

grayson @hazelnatcoffee: i am tagging u Right Back bc,,,solid tumblr crush material,,,,on one hand i am rly honored u follow this mess, on the other hand im just !! u are such a talented writer !! and such a talented artist ??? ur ability to communicate sof sheith feels in both mediums to such devastating effect slays me 10/10 a Must Follow 💕

hina @hinamie: u kno how kurapika was like. ‘when im in this mode im a master of every single nen category’ ?? thts u. except thts u all th time. killer sense of humor and an incredible (understatement...) artist and so pretty i cld die and flawless taste in memes and th capacity to create OCs tht snatch my heart n soul n wig all in one (very basardous) move?? thts u!! how do u do that!! thank u sm for not judging me for thirsting after clowns n also ,,, a must-follow 4 anyone who likes quality 💕

pauline @sftae: i know you’re on hiatus now and thus unlikely to see this anytime soon,,,,,, but it wld feel Wrong to make any kind of crushes post without mentioning u, resident itachi lover, whomse made me laugh sm and gave me some of the probably Best conversations ive had on this site....im so sorry for stealing ur husband (it was Deserved) and i hope u are doing good out there off this hellsite (note how i didnt even mention the fact tht u are a creator yet bc i was too busy crying abt how much i lov talking to u but !! holy shit u also make Quality Content and im both crying and intimidated how is every mutual i have so talented at making things) 💕

nastya @geminest​: bi russian solidarity & prettiest pinkest pastel blog in the universe?? a whole music Genius whomse is fluent in multiple languages?? im going 2 stop typing now bc i Know i wont b able to stop after just one paragraph so im sorry tht this is going to b so short but,,,,,,,,th most quality Soft Kpop blog n distinguished iu stan, thts u 💕

mei @belovedsheith: the sweetest most positive talented writer in th vld fandom?? u!! your blog is an oasis in the sea of drama and discourse that is tumblr generally, and i really admire the compassion you show everyone and your dedication to only giving love back even when people are undeservedly rude or condescending. it takes a lot of strength to do that and i just *clenches fist* rly adore your personality and humility (esp given how you’re scarily good with words and also ur theme....god tier) 💕

pho @phoapostrophes: aksdjf it’s really .... been a while .,,.. since we talked on a personal lvl, but!! anytime i see you on my dash i get rly excited because you always reblog the best things, the best memes and the best literary things and the funniest comics...,, your sense of humor is on point and i dont know where you manage to curate such Quality Content from but im rly living for it !! 💕

nicki @gansaey​: thank u sm,,,,4 watering my crops,,,,feeding me tht good good trc food,,,,no lie i follow like maybe two (2) trc blogs n life is a whole struggle, and also!! i adore your aesthetic, and how it’s perfectly coherent from your theme to your posts...n also i love your avatar and your creations !! :’’D u have a rly rly strong sense of The Ae and tht glows in everything u put out  💕

mia @hcseokie​: hello cowboy basard whats up it’s me n i ,,,, lov u,,,,,possibly th hottest prettiest person on this hellsite w an incredible personality 2 match,,,,you have a killer sense of humour and are a really sweet person to talk to, and i really really wish you all the best and brightest things in the universe!! a tumblr crushes post isnt complete without u :’’)  💕

eve @dotingdamen​: we only talked like once which is an whole federal crime in my opinion askdjf but !! most treasured most quality yoi/captive prince/astrology mutual,,,, mostly i am very intimidated bc you look ethereal and also your writing like. im not even in those fandoms anymore but am i going to go and reread everything th moment i finish typing up this monster of a post?? u bet!! 💕

taavi @kattenprinsen​: father i am very sorry for disappointing u w frightening regularity,,,,i still rmbr when u first followed me and i screamed bc tht was like the ultimate Senpai Noticed Me moment??? honestly tht senpai-noticed-me feeling never rly faded and tht makes u the perfect candidate for a tumblr crushes post :’’’) you could probably create an entire universe w words alone--and do--n ur Powerfully Aesthetic Aesthetic makes my kokoro go doki doki,, i hope i become more like u someday!! 💕

chris @d-a-z-a-i​: kasjf the Very First blog i found after i one-shotted the entire bsd anime and was left crying over dazai,,, pretty much 90% of the best anime content i see on my dash is either reblogged from u or reblogged by u so thank u fr the food!! :’’D 💕

aja @novocaine-sea​: u once left a comment on my shitty jjbek crackfic and thts probably the most accomplished ive ever felt in my life ever,,, like it might sound cheesy but it’s one of those little moments ill carry w me forever on my writing journey? being complimented by someone as talented as you really stuck w me;; tht said, im going to go binge read your entire hq/free! tag at soonest opportunity :’’’) the things you write are 1000% up my alley nd im so ready!! 💕

lia otasucc: an inspiring person on all levels; someone ive been following since the early (yoi) days and who has not once since then been anything less than the brightest light in the fandom. i dont even go here, but im very glad you exist and motivate everyone around you to be better people as well :’D words r hard and the way you flawlessly wield yours, be it in spicy memes or cutting sarcasm, is both terrifying and moving,,, we are all lucky to have u!! 💕

[askthetriokzt]

20??

 20. Wildcard. Talk about anything

// Oh boy, anything? Lets shine some light on Criticism shall well? A key thing I learned when it comes to creating and critiquing. But before I talk about criticism, I would like to talk about a universal currency.

 Believe it or not, but all humankind share one kind of commodity, regardless of social status, nationality, race, gender, sexual orientation, or any other sort of categorization.

That commodity is time. We can give our time, invest our time, waste our time, miss our time, lose time, have it stolen, and we can value our time… the only thing we cant do, is have more time. We claim to buy time, but thats really just an exchange of our own time to delay events. Though we dont know how deep our own accounts go, we cant create more of this finite resource.

So when you invest time in watching a movie or reading a book, or any other exchange that didn’t seem worth the trade, its natural to be angry. This was your time and it has value. Simultaneously, the creator of that book or movie, or art piece, or characters, ect can invest a great deal of their own time in that works creation. Its incredibly frustrating to feel that people arent recognizing that effort. Which is where the tension between critics and creatives often arises.

The wrong word from a certain critic can undermine a lot of creative investment. Yet many a critic will defend their role as pushing back against any trivialization of an art form. In a weird way, both sides believe themselves to be creativity’s true champion. And in my eyes, the best critics convey this love for the medium

Somewhere along the way, critics became celebrities in their own right. An idea started to creep in, ‘To stand out and to be noticed, many critics rely on the idea that negativity is honesty.’.

We’ve all been seduced by this at some point. Many many reviewers have gained an audience and kept it by tearing works apart. The online world in particular flocks to this. We see negativity as a voice, shouting down the groupthink. Its a statement that “We are not going to be cowed by the fandom’s whims and so they got to deal with it!”

And it works. Even if people to agree to the negativity, they respond to it. The comment in defense of their favorite characters and episodes, they denounce the critic, and for some its enough to have that response and recognition. As the saying goes, “There’s no such thing as negative publicity.”.

But given enough time, does the same tactic work? If a critic is consistently negative, regardless of context, I think people begin to see the figure behind the curtain. At most, negativity can become a gimmick, while often its a method towards false confidence. That said, is positivity instant honesty?

 Not really. Unwillingness to criticize indicates that someone is starting with the assumption that the work is good and is going backward. There’s a sense that being a fan is taking priority over being honest. So where does the balance lie?

Personally, I dont think it has to do with a quota of positive vs negative comments or reviews. The real challenge is to show love for the art and the expression. If a piece doesn't work, if it fails to register, whats the counterbalance? Can you highlight a work that did the same attempt and succeeded? That’s offering genuine criticism. Because not only are you stating that something didn’t work, but you’re also helping people understand by providing a positive point of reference.

And by criticising what didn’t work, how much authority can a critic assume? Often times, a negative ‘critic’ will go after the artist more than the artwork. Telling them to keep their hobbies at home or to no inflict their failure on the community. In essence, they’re telling others to stop trying.

If there’s ever a warning light to tune someone out, its when they discourage future attempts. How does the ability to criticize translate into the authority to dictate terms? Attempting to sabotage a person’s efforts is suffocating. You’re drawing a line in the sand with no room for discussion or growth.

I get the sense that this wouldn’t really matter to someone who thrives off of that negativity, people who create cringe blogs, or people who just attack the artist because this isn't about dialogue or insight, its about them. By putting down someone else's work, they present the illusion of intelligence and insight without risk. 

“In many ways, the work of a critic is easy. We risk very little, yet enjoy a position over those who offer up their work and their selves to our judgment. We thrive on negative criticism, which is fun to write and to read.” - Anton Ego from Ratatouille

This leaves a question if time is currency, how much time should we invest in those who do not create? Being an accomplished artist isn’t a prerequisite for giving feedback. Its the old train of thought, “I dont have to be a chef to recognize a bad meal.”. But how much can this feedback benefit the process? Often times, we can find ourselves under a barrage of words that have an emotional impact but offer very little insight. Even the phrases that can sound positive, often times dont express why they like the piece.

The fact is, not all criticism is created equal. People who have never taken the risk, often lack the perspective to offer insight, so their feedback is often focused on their own entertainment. Yet audiences are vast and can have a diverse set of opinions, often contradictory, so it becomes a judgment call. Who offers the best and most insightful criticism, and who is just making demands?

The thing that kills me is that if I could challenge these so-called ‘critics’, I’m sure their response would be, “I’m just stating my opinion. Its not my fault if others are offended.”. I’ve seen this defense or excuse thrown up so many times, its become borderline comical. This avoidance of responsibility or any acknowledgment that the message didn’t reach the audience. What this message really means is a double standard. The person is saying, “I am not going to invest the time or energy to better craft a message that will reach my audience, yet I expect you to invest the time and energy to pay attention.”

The end result is that the only people who agree, are those who already shared the same mindset beforehand. Very rarely does this sway the opposing view or offer new ideas.

Once again, I’m drawn back to the idea that a negative review can be fun to watch/listen. We might enjoy a sense of validation, we can say “Hey, I’m not the only one who didn’t like that thing.” Yet even then, I cant just point at a reviewer and say, “I’m entertained.” or “This person and I dislike the same things and therefore, they must be good critics.” I find that the critics I go out of my way to watch, offer more than just entertainment.

When Linkara lays into the toxic message that is ‘Holly Terror’, he contrasted about how SuperHeroes can knights-errant, showing the best in kindness and decencyWhen Angry Joe went full fury over ‘Ride to Hell’, it wasn’t just about bad gameplay, he also denounced the insulting and juvenile approach towards women and sex.And when BennetTheSage reviewed the anime ‘Fooly Cooly’, he reflected on how our tastes change and evolve with time but that doesn't mean that our past enjoyment was meaningless.

Honestly, the best reviews and critics aren’t those who just pick something to pieces, they’re people who recognize that creativity is an expression of an idea, even if its not well represented. By drawing our attention to the ideas to get people thinking. Bonus points if you can enjoy a laugh along the way. Yet there will always be people who just want to tear others down, attack the artist, and just be overall negative without caring about others or their growth. Whenever you put your work out there, someone else will see it as an opportunity for their own advancement.

What I hope people will take away from this, is where to invest their time. To look at a critics commentary and ask, “Is there a genuine care for the idea or expression?” “Is there just some sort of entertainment value?” Is when I can get a sense that a person is just unfunny and wearing the facade of a critic, is when I say can say “I have a pretty limited amount of time, are you really worth the investment?”

Here’s hoping that you found this long long ‘essay’, worth your own time and that it could help bring a new view to things.

[avengerdragoness]

Children of The Gods Ch.1 - Demigod AU [Jason Todd x Reader]

A/n: Here it is! The first chapter to my new series! I really am looking forward to what his series has to offer because I love Greek Mythology! I really hope you all like this and I appreciate any feedback you guys have! Love you all! Enjoy <33

Ch. 2 - Ch. 3 - Ch. 4 - Ch. 5 - Ch. 6

Tagging: @memento-scribet @cherryignacio @queen-of-all-the-fandoms @annoyed-kitten11 @4evahevah @crazyfangirl1810 @aworldwideapart @shortycraft13

*If you enjoyed this and would like to be tagged, shoot me a message or comment

______

Greek Gods. Stories of myth and legend. Almighty, immortal beings that serve as judges to the world as we know it. Could begin and start a life at the snap of a finger. Because of their immense power they try and keep from interactions with mortal humans. Yes they try, but what happens when they do not succeed? What happens if one grows affectionate with a human? What happens if they have children?

Questions all too known to humans who believe in these Gods and Goddesses. But questions all too answered for their offspring. Demigods inhabit this Earth, part God part human, half bloods. Relics to some and freaks to others.

Wandering prey if they’re unaware of their heritage, prey to those who despise the Gods and the reign they have had for eons. Unable to get to the Gods themselves, these villains target the offspring. The mortal offspring.

That is why the creation of the ‘Camp of the Gods’ was created. A safe place for demigods and goddesses. A place for them to grow, to accept their abilities and heritage.

The camp is hidden, tucked away in a forest away from civilization. The only people who know about it are the League and demigods and goddesses who have trained there. The League is a group of trained demigods and goddesses who save endangered half bloods. They bring them to the camp before villains can harm them. This is where demigods learn to harness and control their abilities.

It’s where you live. You’ve been at the camp since you were 12. Having lost her to one of those monsters, you were left on your own. In your mother’s final moments she told you who you are. Who your father is. Saying you must find a case hidden within your home and run away. That’s when the hunting began. However the League came to your rescue.

When they saved you, you were brought back to the camp. Where your father claimed you during the claiming ceremony. A claim that stunned every member of the league and every demigod in the camp.

You are the Princess to the Gods, the Daughter of Zeus.

As of today, you have become one of the strongest demigods, strong enough to become a part of the league. However, you had different intentions. The camp had become your home, the only home you’ve known for 7 years. Leading to your decision to stay and protect it in case any harm were to come to its defenses. Having both training from being on your own and training from the camp, there was no one better suited.

The camp is safe. It’s where untrained demigods and goddesses belong.

...However. Not everyone believes that.

Jason was not entirely fond of Bruce making him move to this camp. Him and the Outlaws could handle themselves, the last advice he took from Bruce led to proving Jason’s mortality. It was through the power of his mother, Athena, that brought him back. After that he vowed to take care of himself from then on.

Though, on their last mission to take down a villain target, there was a mishap that almost led to them and the half blood they were saving losing their lives, putting a target on their backs in the process. After that close call, the League demanded they all move to the camp. Where they would be safe and things could calm down. Villains often would draw targets but forget about them within a good few months. Finding new prey to stalk.

Kori and Roy were rather excited to be coming to the camp. They always wanted to know more about their immortal parents and even form some sort of relationship with them.

They eagerly stood outside the magic barrier that camouflages the camp. Jason standing there annoyed with his arms crossed. Bruce came up next to the three, “Are you ready?” Kori and Roy grinned while Jason simply huffed before Bruce led the way. They were in awe as the camp revealed itself once passing the barrier.

They approached the gate, being greeted by the sound of metal clanging and bows strings stretching, the yelling and talking of half bloods. Jason winced at the sight, this is NOT what he wanted. “Welcome to the Camp of the Gods” Bruce observed the three.

He watched as their eyes scanned over the place. His falling on three members coming their way. Noticing Dick, the first demigod he saved. “New Recruits, and Bruce what a surprise.” Dick greeted cheerily. Jason’s scowl only grew, great now he has to deal with the golden boy too? Dick’s eyes fell on Jason, “Jason, I see you’re finally joining the camp.”

“Yeah, well, not of my own volition” he bit back. However, Dick is used to Jason’s short temper, he knows Jason’s reluctance will pass with time.

“Anyway, who have you brought with you?” His attention turned to the two others. “I’m Roy and this is Kori.” Roy introduced the both of them. “A pleasure to meet you both. I’m Richard, or Dick as I prefer. Son of Apollo.”

Next the redhead beside him spoke up, “I’m Wally, Son of Hermes” pointing to himself.

The last one to speak was the girl on the other side of them both, “I’m M’gann, Daughter of Persephone. We’re kind of your welcoming committee. We will be showing you the camp and answering any questions you might have.” She smiled kindly at the three.

“I will leave you three in their hands. I have to get back to work.” Bruce said before turning and exiting the camp.

“If you three will follow us we can start the tour of the camp” M’gann smiled while gesturing for them to follow. Roy, Kori, and Jason did so, listening to the information they were being given. Being shown the dining hall, cabins, stables, camp borders, armory, and finally the training grounds.

When approaching the training grounds they noticed a group formed and the sound of swords clashing. Coming upon the scene they saw two people sparring. Continuously lunging and blocking the other’s attacks. It was graceful, like a sort of forbidden dance. Both swordsmen, or swordsman and swords-woman, were highly skilled. Proving how fighting is an art form, not brute strength.

Jason especially noticed the abilities and gracefulness of the demigoddess. He was infatuated by the way you moved; tactically yet instinctively. Noticing how you could see three moves ahead of your opponent. [H/c] hair tied back as your [e/c] stayed locked on your opponent, gaze never faltering for a second. The opponent a taller, tan, male with blonde hair and green eyes. He looked strong and moved just as tactically but it didn’t look as though it came as naturally for him.

“Who is that?” Jason asked looking over at Dick, catching the attention of the others. “The man is Kaldur’ahm, Son of Poseidon. Prince of the Sea some have come to call him. He’s one of the strongest warriors in this camp. The woman, [F/n] [L/n], Daughter of Zeus. Princess of the Gods. The strongest demigoddess and warrior in the camp. Both highly skilled and highly fatal.” Dick explained, eyes not leaving the match. Jason nodded before directing his attention back to the fight.

Before Jason could analyze their movements any further, it all came to an abrupt halt. You had a boot on Kaldur’ahm’s chest, sword pulled up over your shoulder in a striking position. Both panting before a grin broke out on your lips. “I win” you muttered before pulling back offering a hand to him. “Still the most skilled warrior in the camp.” He stated calmly.

“That was amazing!” one of the younger demigods smiled, who stood just in front of the newcomers. Your eyes fell on them all. “So you’re the new recruits” calling to them. Waving them over, “Front and center” tapping the ground with your sword. The three came and stood where you tapped. Swinging the sword to rest it on your shoulder while turning to look at them. Standing there you looked them over, getting a feel for their physical type.

“Well as the formal protector of this camp, Welcome. As I’m sure M’gann, Dick, and Wally told you I’m [F/n] [L/n] and this is Kaldur’ahm. We both are here if you have any questions on your abilities or the camp itself. However from what Bruce and the rest of the League told me, you all have quite a handle on your abilities, and outside experience. So I ask you to behave yourselves and act as role models for the younger demigods and goddesses here because they WILL look up to you. As long as you all follow the rules and keep that in mind, we’re more than happy to have you here. And one last thing, this is a home. We are all family here, please, treat it as such.” Looking over the three, you saw the eagerness in two but the third was wearing an aura of skepticism.

You walked over to Jason, “Trust me this place isn’t as you feel it is. Give it a chance, give us a chance before you cast your verdict. What I’m saying is lighten up, relax, learn. We might surprise you.” laughing while placing the sword hilt in his hands. Backing away you looked at them all, “As much as I’d like to stay, I have other things to attend to. I will see you all at the claiming ceremony.” Announcing before smiling at them all and nodding before making your leave.

“Claiming ceremony?” Kori asked looking at their three tour guides. Wally was the first to speak up. “It’s where your parent will claim you as their child, proving your heritage as a demigod and who your parent is. Then the camp will act and train you accordingly.” he explained. Them all nodding in understanding.

“Anyway there is a lot more camp to show you and people for you to meet before the ceremony. Let’s continue” Dick smiled before M’gann nodded and began to lead the way once more.

Though Jason was distracted by the words you spoke to him while analyzing the sword in his hands. The words ringing in his head ‘What I’m saying is lighten up, relax, learn. We might surprise you.’ How could he relax? Half of him kept reminding how he’s in a strange, unknown place, surrounded by other demigods. Though the other side of him wanted to train and take the chance to do as told. To trust.

[robininthelabyrinth]

Fic: The Swiftest Course (Ao3) (Chapter 6/8)

Fandom: Flash, DC’s Legends Pairing: Barry Allen/Leonard Snart/Mick Rory, Eddie Thawne/Iris West Summary:

Barry of Allen is on his way to the capital of Tortall for the final part of his knight training, hiding a secret that could threaten his career there. He’s determined to keep his head down and not get into trouble.

He isn’t expecting to meet Len, Corus’ Rogue, or his right-hand man, Mick. Or meet Princess Iris and his new friends, Cisco and Caitlin.

He certainly wasn’t expecting to be roped into adventure.

(It’s the Gods’ fault, really.)

A/N: For joyous-lee, who purchased one of my stories for the FandomTrumpsHate event. She requested a Tortall AU, with Barry as Alanna. Thank you so much for your patience, and I hope you enjoy it!

——————————————————————————————–

Cisco and Caitlin end up being...totally fine with the whole mage thing.

"A mage? Really?" Caitlin says. "That's really interesting - have you given any thought to combining your abilities the way they used to in Good King Jonathan and Queen Thayet's day?"

"Of course you'd focus on the historical significance," Cisco says, rolling his eyes. "Seriously, Bar, you're a speedster mage? How could you not tell us that we could've all gotten our chores done in under ten minutes?"

"Because I'm not going to do your chores for you?" Barry suggests, smiling.

Cisco clutches at his heart dramatically. "I've been wronged!"

Barry sticks out his tongue.

Caitlin rolls her eyes and says "Boys!" and that's the end of it.

"So, only one question," Caitlin says. "Why now?"

"What do you mean?" Cisco asks her.

"Barry clearly had a reason for telling us now," she says. "I don't think it's coincidence that we're dealing with the Sweating Sickness and Barry is one of the few unaffected mages."

"It's not," Barry says, and tells them the rest: running through the streets to search for the caster's station, Faithful distracting him, the dead street, Malady, even Eddie's explanation about string magic.

Cisco and Caitlin exchange looks. "The hooded man?" he asks.

"The hooded man," she confirms.

Barry frowns at them, bewildered; his only consolation is that Iris looks just as lost. "What's that?"

"It's from the swamp-lands," Cisco explains. "From where Malady runs most free. They've invented an outfit that's called the hooded man - a special type of waxed clothing designed to keep out any liquid and most gases. People wear it all over to block any route for disease to come to you. My family's been working on importing it to try to make an improved rain gear, but there ought to be enough to make you a proper hooded man outfit."

"My mother sent me one of the masks to study," Caitlin adds. "It's a long, curved beak, with magic herbs and spells carved alongside the beak to permit only good air through. It's how you breathe in the suit."

"And you think that'll protect me?"

"The results until now have been pretty good," Caitlin says. "It's the best we've got."

The costume of the hooded man is intimidating, to say the least. It takes less than two days for Cisco to put together the outfit - boots and pants and coat and cloak, as many layers as a man going out to the mountains in winter - and for Caitlin to get the mask, which as she'd explained was a long, sinister-looking creation with bulbous black glass eyes and no gap for a mouth.

"I'm going to scare everybody I see," Barry says flatly. "You couldn't find a color other than red and yellow?"

"This is it," Caitlin says. "Unless you'd like to try your luck without it."

"Don't even think about it," Len says, here on one of his infrequent visits. He reaches out and rubs the heavy cloth between his fingers. "This is the good stuff, Barry - I've seen blood-cloth less resistant than this."

Caitlin nods, but Iris frowns. "Blood-cloth?"

"Butchers and surgeons wear it to repel blood that splashes onto their clothing," Caitlin explains.

"Not just those professions," Len murmurs with a smirk that fades as he looks at Barry. "I hate that it's gotta be you."

"I'm the only mage around who missed the initial rounds of infection," Barry replies with a sigh. He wishes it didn't have to be him, too. But he was going to be a knight, assuming any of them survived to graduation and the Chamber of the Ordeal, and risking his life for the good of many was something he'd have to get used to. It's quite literally part of the job.

That being said, Barry was secretly glad that Len, for all his slight touch of Sight, couldn't do it. He'd rather risk himself, any time.

"I've written letters to my parents," he tells his friends. "If I don't - well. Make sure they get them."

"I won't," Iris says. She's fighting back tears; Caitlin isn't even bothering with that much restraint. "Because you'll come back just fine."

"Iris."

"Oh, fine. If something happens, fine."

"Thank you."

"When you untie the string, don't let go," Len says.

They all turn to look at him.

"Follow it back to where it came from," he suggests.

Cisco nods thoughtfully. "The caster's base."

"We could find evidence of who it is," Caitlin adds.

"Or what else they've been up to," Iris murmurs, exchanging significant looks with Barry and Len.

Barry hugs them all, kisses Len twice - once extra for Mick, who wouldn't have appreciated a letter - and goes.

Once he's at city center, he holds up Faithful. "Go on," he says, his voice muffled by the mask.

Faithful squeaks and goes.

It's another dead street. Barry abruptly suspects, seeing Malady limp down the way, that Malady is maliciously retreading its steps, a small act of defiance against the orders it has been forced to follow.

Barry puts Faithful back inside his pocket in a flash of light, reaching all the way inside his heavy, hot layering. Then he adjusts his mask and goes to meet a Sorrow.

Malady stops and hisses at the sight of him. It's appearance is disgusting - a gigantic, disgusting rat, so swollen with disease that it seems almost ready to burst with it, like rotten fruit. Barry has to fight back a gag - only the perfumed herbs in his mask's beak, chosen for their nausea-fighting properties and spelled to be even stronger, keep his gorge from rising.

"I don't want to fight you," he says, vibrating extra fast in his nervousness. The vibrations in the mask muffles his voice, making it deeper, almost eerily so. "I want to unbind you."

Malady looks suspicious.

"I mean, yes, I'd like you to leave after that, but I'm being realistic here."

Malady huffs what almost seems like a laugh at that, suspicious glare fading, and it bows its head.

Swallowing, Barry kneels beside it and starts unwrapping the string as fast as he can.

It's very nearly not fast enough.

Even his slick suit isn't enough to repel the disintegration of the string that inches up the line as Barry hurries to loop it around Malady's head. Blackness and rot, stinking of putrid flesh, every loop Barry undoes is consumed, and it crawls up toward where his hands are and Barry is abruptly certain that if that decay touches him he will die, suit or no suit.

"How did he get this on?" Barry hisses, eyes fixed on the approaching decay as he pulls yet another loop off. He can barely do it in time, and he's a speedster mage! It seems endless, loop after loop after loop - the decay coming for him - his speed starting to falter, not enough practice after all his years of hiding it - him biting his lip near to bleeding because he can’t slow down - can't die - he has to get back to Len, to Mick, to his friends -

And then, suddenly, it's done.

Barry's holding the end of a long string, clasped tightly in his fingers, and the decayed part drops off only to vanish into the paved road, where all manner of bugs skitter out and away, plague-carriers every one.

Malady raises its head and regards Barry.

Barry, frozen, stares back.

Malady nods, head bowed low for just a moment, and then vanishes.

Barry exhales.

He really hopes they're right that this will stop the Sickness.

The string abruptly pulls tight, trying to escape his grasp, but Barry instinctively looped it around his own hand and is yanked up to his feet instead. It pulls painfully tight. He won’t be able to hold it for very long.

Barry turns in the direction the string is coming from and runs.

Whoever sent this Sickness upon Barry's city is going to pay.

Barry will make sure of it.

--

The string leads to the palace.

It tries to lose him, going through closed doors and looping back on itself, but Barry's high on the adrenaline of terror and the rush of rage and he's running faster than he ever did before, and suddenly he sees everything broken down into frozen dots, like a stylized painting, and he can leap through doors made of those dots with ease.

He's not sure how he's doing it, but he has to find the caster of this terrible spell. If he doesn't, they might try again. He can't let them try again.

The death toll of the Sickness has already been far too high.

And if this is Eobard or his ally, Darkh, that just makes it worse. Bespelling the royal family, subverting them, casting a sickness on them - Iris' mother and brother are bedridden, her father at their bedside - Iris herself spared only because she was away and stays away -

Caitlin had quietly suggested to Barry that since Iris survived their adventure in Gorilla City and helped broker a peace regardless of her young age, making her an impromptu hero to most of the country, the caster of the Sickness might have decided to keep her alive to marry her for legitimacy.

If it's Eobard, "nice" Eobard, then without the intervention of the secretive gorillas of the Hidden City, Iris wouldn't have realized the trap until her family was dead and her marriage announced.

Barry grinds his teeth and follows the string.

It leads to -

Barry snarls in anger.

Whatever casting device was used, it's hidden in Iris' quarters.

Her royal quarters, not the knight's barracks which she insisted on sharing with her classmates. She probably hasn't been back there for any longer than a brief moment to change into royal clothing in months, if not longer.

If Eobard's dares about the Hidden City had led to her death, her quarters would have been locked up in mourning, and no one would have ever found the casting.

Clever, if diabolical.

The string leads straight to some sort of magic-looking design that vaguely resembles the carvings on the great gate that Roger of Conté tried to use to send Tortall into the realms of Chaos all those years ago, albeit one made of string. Even as Barry arrives, the string pulls out of his hand and winds itself furiously, destroying the design before disappearing in a puff of foul yellow smoke.

Not a trace left. Of course.

But next to it is another working - a basket, this time, filled with dolls, covered by a cloth.

Barry's heard of that particular spell of Roger of Conté's, too.

Everyone has; you can't grow up in Tortall and not hear all the stories of Alanna the Lioness, her duel with Roger, and the subsequent revelation of her gender before all the court.

It’s a bewitching spell, just the same as the one that Roger of Conté used to hide his perfidy from the court until Alanna unmasked him.

But what to do about it?

He hears footsteps.

Someone is coming to this room. It's not Iris, Barry knows that much; she’s still in the camp and unable to enter the city. So it must be the caster of the spell.

Barry pulls his hooded beak down to make sure it covers his face and grabs the basket.

The door opens.

Thawne Eobard. Just as they'd all known.

And he looks angry, too.

Behind him - Damien Darkh, the King’s Mage, the one they'd all suspected, and Malcolm Lord Merlyn, the head of the elite knights' squad. Who they hadn't suspected at all.

Oh, shit, Barry thinks, and runs out. Luckily Eobard and his allies are a bit back from the doorway, enabling Barry to duck around them; all Barry needs is some clear space and he'll be free, no one will be able to catch him once he's at top speed.

Or so he thinks, right up until there's a crackle of lightning and suddenly there's someone else running right behind him.

It's Thawne Eobard.

He isn't just a mage-worker. He's a speedster mage!

Barry grits his teeth and runs faster, twisting and veering and dodging, but Eobard is catching up to him. He's smirking, too - he knows he's faster, Barry knows he's faster, and there's nothing Barry can do about how Eobard inexorably strides behind him, calm where Barry is already gasping for air, contemptuously demonstrating his mastery of their mutual art.

Just as Barry thinks he can run no further, just as Eobard reaches out to grasp the back of Barry's hood to yank him back, there's a brilliant flare of white light that hits Eobard dead on and knocks him back.

Cold white light.

Barry’s seen that light before, back in Gorilla City.

Len!

Len is standing outside of the Dancing Dove, his crossbow of ice held up to aim, the smirk on his face no less arrogant than Eobard's but far less cruel - and far more beloved.

Barry uses the opportunity to zip off behind the next building, but he slows, not wanting to leave Len alone.

It occurs to him a second later, seeing Eobard curse, that it also deprives Eobard of his trail of lightning.

And then he turns on Len, his face vibrating too fast to be recognizable to anyone but another speedster mage, and says, "You robbed me of my quarry."

His voice is distorted, echoing in itself. It's frightening even to Barry, who can do the same, but Len is unmoved and unafraid.

"If you can be robbed so easily," he drawls, "you don't deserve to keep it. Welcome to the streets of Corus – and the realm of the Rogue."

"The Rogue," Eobard says thoughtfully. He holds up a hand and begins to vibrate so fast that it hums in the air like a mage-powered saw. "Tell me, is it true that when I shred your heart in my hand, I become the Rogue after you."

Len sneers. "Never," he says.

"Perhaps we should test that."

Len fires his crossbow, but Eobard is already dodging, appearing right in front of Len, and his hand is moving so fast - Barry can't go to Len, would never be able to stop Eobard in time, even if he didn't hold the future of the realm he's sworn to defend in his hands -

"Goodbye, Rogue," Eobard says.

But before he can move, there's another flash of light.

But not cold, oh no.

Hot.

Where Eobard was merely knocked back by Len's ice, shaking it off after a few moments, Mick's crossbow of flame - and it is Mick, standing off to the side, grinning broadly and savagely the way he always does when there's violence afoot, familiar and beloved to Barry's eyes - makes Eobard shriek in agony and dash back a few steps to avoid it.

Mick drives him back, and back, and back, until Eobard shouts some small bit of furious resistance, the words drowned out by the roar of the flames, but then Len steps forward and raises up his crossbow of ice and Eobard turns tail and flees back to the palace.

Mick pulls back his weapon, though Len keeps his out, a wary eye out on the street.

"Mick!" Barry calls, forgetting discretion now that Eobard is gone. "You're back!"

"I told you I wouldn't be long," Mick says gruffly.

"You said no such thing," Len snarks, but Barry sees the pleasure on his face and knows that Mick hasn't been back long at all. If he had been, Len would've mastered any trace of emotion by now.

Or maybe not, since it's Mick.

Barry reaches for Mick, wanting to embrace him, to kiss him -

"Barry!" Len snaps.

Barry freezes.

"Take that basket to Iris," Len says. "Decontaminate yourself. And only then come meet us at the usual place."

Oh, right. Malady, the race, the basket of dolls.

Barry's still wearing the hooded man's beaked mask!

Awkward.

"I'll be back," he promises, and runs.

His feet feel lighter than air.

--

Sadly, Barry ends up bringing Mick and Len and Eddie to the camp in a dizzying set of deliveries instead, because the work of saving the country trumps Barry's desire to greet his returned lover in person.

Barry sometimes wishes it didn't, but he knows his duty to his country.

"So Thawne Eobard is a speedster mage," Iris says, tapping her lip with a finger. "He sent the Sickness and bespelled - a lot of people."

"Unmasking the basket should break the spell," Barry says. "Per legend."

"We need to reveal him sooner rather than later," Len says. "He knows he's lost it; he may try another spell."

"You can't conflict spells like that," Iris says. "As long as this spell is still working, he can't cast another on the same people."

"Do you think he has Merlyn under such a spell?" Cisco asks. They've shown him and Caitlin the basket; it was enough to break the spell on them, little dolls dissolving inside of the cloth.

Now that they've had time to study it, it is what Iris proclaimed to be ingenious - based on Roger of Conté's original, of course, but improved. There is one main doll - Thawne Eobard – which is palm sized, and two others - Darkh and Merlyn - about two-thirds that size, and the rest are the size of pawns. And so, by the laws of magical symbolic transfer, they are pawns, willing pawns, to the games of Eobard and his allies.

"I don't think so," Iris says gently. "Eobard came for the first time four years ago - and that's when Merlyn first got permission to make his squads. Squads of the best of the best of our knights, bound together in secrecy and brotherhood, and sworn to serve his every order, no matter how unusual. They're not exactly what knights have traditionally been, you know."

Cisco sighs. "You're right," he says wistfully. "But it was something nice to aspire to."

"Darkh ascended to the position of the King’s Mage around the same time, didn't he?" Barry asks, thinking of his mother's letters.

"Shortly thereafter," Iris confirms.

"He comes to the north, sometimes," Caitlin says quietly. "There are Libraries there, in the City of the Gods; he was too impatient to go through the proper procedures before reading them, and they denied him access. But then he became the King’s Mage, and they couldn't deny him any longer even if he didn't follow procedure..."

"Four years," Eddie whispers. "That's before -" His voice fails him.

"Before what?" Iris asks him, automatically reaching for him and grasping his hand in hers.

"Before the massacre of the old Thawnes, of course," Len drawls. "Eobard needed allies in Tortall that would help him keep his new-found throne, and access to the King in order to quash any investigation."

"Of course," Iris says, though she looks a little puzzled. "That makes sense."

"It's time," Mick says.

"Time for what?" Barry asks, but Mick ignores him. He's looking at Eddie.

"Time to tell everyone what we already know," Len says. "Go on, Eddie."

Eddie bites his lip and ducks his head.

"You tell them," Len says mildly. "Or we will."

"You," Eddie says. He pulls his hand gently away from Iris. "I don't know how you figured it out, but - please."

"What is it?" Iris asks, looking between them, worry plain on her face. “Tell me.”

Len gestures at Eddie. "Iris, Princess of Tortall, allow me to introduce you to Thawne Edward, youngest son of the family that was slaughtered."

There's a moment of utter shock and silence.

Then -

"Really?!" Iris yelps.

"I didn't mean to mislead you, Iris," Eddie says miserably. "There just never seemed to be a good time to bring it up, and at any rate I had realized when I arrived that Tortall wasn't investigating as I'd hoped they were, so I'm disinherited anyway -"

"Not disinherited," Caitlin says. "Eddie, you're the rightful heir!"

"Well," Eddie says. "Not quite. My older brother survived, too. He's the heir."

"That's great!" Iris says.

He goggles at her. "It - is?"

"Not you lying to me by omission," Iris says briskly. "We'll talk about you making that up to me later. But the presence of a true-born Thawne will mean that Eobard's own men will not back him, not if we get you in front of him, and that will reduce the threat of war."

"Never did understand why a foreign leader was allowed to bring so many men," Cisco mutters. "Practically an army camped outside Corus' gates."

"An army we no longer have to worry about," Iris says. "More importantly, that means Eddie and I can marry, and not even my father will be able to object that it's not a properly strategic match."

"You - you'd still want to?" Eddie whispers. His eyes are wide and he looks as though all of his dreams had come true right when he had expected them to die forever. "You'll still take me?"

"I would've married you when you were still the Rogue's pawnshop owner," Iris declares. "This just makes it easier, that's all."

They all politely turn away for a moment to let the couple kiss passionately.

After a few moments, Iris clears her throat. "Um," she says. "Well, that's the problem of Eobard's army cleared up."

Everyone turns back. Most of them are smirking, though Len's nose is still scrunched up in disgust at the public display of affection. He's a private man.

“We still have to deal with Merlyn’s men,” Barry says, trying to hide his grin. “And Darkh. And Eobard!”

“Darkh especially,” Caitlin says, biting her lower lip. “We’re knights, and he’s the King’s Mage. I mean, we could probably gather up all the knights that aren’t sworn to Merlyn – we have the advantage of numbers, at least, since he insisted on having small, elite squads – but Darkh? Even if Barry is a speedster mage, all of his attention will have to go against Thawne Eo– against Eobard, I mean. None of us are mages, and even if we could collect the ones in Corus to help us, they’re all still sick and half-powered because of the Sickness.”

"Iris can handle Darkh," Mick says.

Iris smiles, though it's shaky. "Thanks for the vote of confidence, Mick. But I'm not a mage, either. The line of Conté used to be powerful mages, but the only thing left nowadays is the ability to use the Dominion Jewel. I can't help you."

"Sure you can," he replies.

"To go up against the top mage in the realm?" Caitlin says doubtfully.

"Sorry, Mick, it really does seem like something we need a mage for," Cisco agrees. "Unless you have one in your pocket or something."

"That ain't what I got in my pocket," Mick says smugly, and pulls out a leather wrapped parcel out of said pocket.

"If I'd known we were distributing gifts, I would've worn something nicer," Len drawls.

"This is what I went to get," Mick says, taking no offense at Len’s snark. He finishes unwrapping it.

It's - a jewel?

Big and purple and -

"Oh Goddess," Iris gasps. "Is that what I think it is?"

"Depends on what you think it is," Len says, looking a touch confused by the presence of the shiny object Mick is brandishing like it means something. "I'm gonna guess your first thought wasn't about its resale value..."

Sadly, that had been Barry's first thought too. His lovers were clearly a bad influence on him.

"It has no resale value, you thief!" Iris exclaims. "That's the Dominion Jewel!"

And then everyone is talking all at once, louder and louder until Len abruptly whistles long and shrill, deafening everyone around him.

"Ain't sure about the rest of you," he says, glaring. "But where I'm from we conduct our secret meetings quietly."

Everyone looks down and mumbles apologies. Len has a very effective disappointed look.

"Now, one at a time."

"Wasn't the Jewel lost?" Barry jumps in first. Speed powers were meant for exploiting, after all.

"Yep," Mick replies.

"But, like, really lost," Cisco says. "Not 'stuck up a mountain with a grumpy elemental' lost, more like 'threw itself in a volcano to punish Tortall's rulers for their overreach' sort of lost."

"Yep," Mick replies.

"Big, nasty, still-active volcano," Cisco adds.

"Yep."

"The sort with fiery lava in the -"

"What Cisco is trying to say," Caitlin interrupts, "is how? How did you find it?"

Mick shrugs. "I went to the volcano."

"What, and it was just lying there and nobody noticed?" Cisco says skeptically.

Len, however, is frowning. "Mick," he says, his voice perfectly smooth and even in the way it is when something is actually upsetting him. "Are you telling me you went inside the volcano?"

"I had to," Mick says apologetically. "S'where the Jewel was, and we needed the Jewel to fight the big bosses, and if we didn't beat them, bad things would happen. World was going to end, boss."

"You went inside a volcano," Len says stiffly. "No wonder you didn't tell me where you were going."

Barry winces. That tone does not speak well of Len's mood right now. From the look on Mick's face, he knows it, too.

"Len," Iris says. "Stop worrying retroactively when it'll do no one any good. He's alive, he's fine - that's what's important."

Len grudgingly nods.

Mick looks relieved.

"Uh, guys?" Cisco says. "No offense for breaking up the feelings moment but - how exactly did he survive? Kind of a key question here. The whole reason the Dominion Jewel picked a volcano to create and jump into is because the Gods can't really empower people to be flame-resistant. Well, maybe against magic flame, but not regular flame. None of the Gods can do that, except maybe the Black God."

"I ain't the Black God's get," Mick grumbles when they all turn to look at him. "Mom, not dad, remember?"

"But then - how?"

Mick looks embarrassed. "Apparently my mom's the fire. Guess that's one reason why the firebug fits came on me so early. And why I see useful things in the fire."

"The fire," Barry says blankly. There's no goddess of flames, not unless - "Mick, your mother was Mother Flame?! The mother of the Gods?!"

"You're a god?!" Cisco yelps.

"No!" Mick says. "Demi-god! My dad was a human - also prone to firebug fits, apparently - not a metaphysical concept!"

"You always did have to be special," Len drawls, but the ice in his tone is subsiding to more normal levels out of sheer amusement.

"Does that mean you're actually omniscient?" Iris asks.

"Wait, omniscient? How's that?" Cisco asks.

"Kinda?" Mick replies, shrugging helplessly. "I got access to all the info, it just - I only got a human brain to sort it all through. S'why I'm so slow, sometimes. Even info I learn the human way just gets lost in the mess."

"Wow," Caitlin says, looking around the group to make sure that they’re being serious. "Can we -"

"Let's focus on defeating the bad guys," Len cuts in. "Yeah? Iris, can you use the Jewel?"

"I should be able to," Iris replies. "As I said, that’s the only thing we can do, the line of Jonathan and Thayet – the only remaining mage ability we have is the ability to use the Jewel. I mean, I've never practiced - for obvious reasons - but...yeah. I think so."

"So we have Eddie to talk down the Bergen army," Len says. "Cisco and Caitlin to gather up good knights to fight Merlyn's knights. Barry and me to hold off Eobard - and that leaves Mick and Iris to fight off Darkh."

"I don't know if I can beat Eobard," Barry confesses. "He's faster than me, more experienced, everything."

Everyone else looks pretty ill at the scope of what they're up against, too.

Len rolls his eyes. "Come on now," he says briskly. "Have I ever gone after anything I wanted - really wanted, shut up, Mick - without a plan made to succeed?"

Everyone stops looking sick and starts smiling.

After all, every one of them has had an opportunity to see Len's planning skills at work.

"Okay," Len says, satisfied smirk stretching across his face. "So here's what we're going to do -"

[mythopoeticreality]

For the book asks: 15, 17, 35, 48, and especially 50 :)

yeee!^^ Thank you so much for sending these! Now, let’s see…

15: What book changed your life? 

ohhh, hrmmm…this one is actually pretty difficult to answer now that I think about it? I mean I think that all of the books I’ve read – the really good ones that I am absolutely in love with, at least – have effected me on atleast some level or another, and the thing with the really big “Life Changeing” books I’ve read in my life is that they’ve all kind of lead into one another. Let me think…

Okay, so if we’re going in order here, I guess I’d have to begin with the Harry Potter books. I mean, seriously, these books were my childhood, much like they were for so many other people, and they’ve been so much a part of my life ever since I was, like, eleven, that I can’t really even say the full extent of how much these books have changed my life. I’ve grown up with these characters after all, learning the same lessons they were learning and letting their adventures shape my view of the world as they went through them. I can’t imagine what my life would have been without these books.

What I can say is that these are the books that first really got me interested into the fantasy genre, and – especially after I’d read the fourth book – dragons. Okay, this one’s kind of embarrassing to admit to because it isn’t even a particularly original or even well written book but the next book that really changed my life was..well…Eragon by Christopher Paolini. Yeah, so, here’s the thing, I was pretty young when I first picked this book up and began reading it, and I became kinda obsessed. xD I hadn’t actually read much in the way of fantasy at the time and this book, oh this book was full of all of these ideas that fascinated and enchanted me: an epic fight against an powerful, evil king; Tall,beautiful elves who were so full of wisdom and magic; gruff dwarves who were awesome at making things; magical languages with true-names for everything that you couldn’t lie in; and above all, telepathic dragons and  society of knights that rode them and kept the peace.  Okay, yeah, so the book was basically a trope-fest, but all of these ideas were new to me at the time and they immediately sucked me in. And I wanted more. And so I went on the internet, and began looking for anything related to Eragon that I could find. Eventually I stumbled on this roleplay forum, and I was like, “Wait, I can make a character that lives in this world? And I can actually write out their adventures in it?” I signed up that night, and my time on that forum was my first real experience in writing. At the same time that year I began my first serious attempts at writing a novel, which was, yes, about a group of Dragon Riders trying to protect the world from Great Evil™ *ahem* So yeah. Eragon was what really got me into writing in the first place. Since then, I’ve kind of fallen out of love with the series, around the time books 3 and 4 came out I found them rather rambling and directionless, and I’ve definately found several problems with the first and second books after going back and re-reading them, but the first book, Eragon itself, will always hold a special place in my heart because of what it has given me.

Aaaand then we get to the big one. If you spend even ten seconds looking at my tumblr, you can probably guess which book I’ll be talking about here.Tolkien’s books and especially The Silmarillion took up so much of my life as a teenager (and still do even to today). Tolkien is what got me into metal ( real jump into fandom and I’ve met so many great people through this fandom. Tolkien had effected my views on words and language, on stories and creation, on the world in general. Tolkien’s works are to me now what Harry Potter was during my childhood. I can’t imagine what my life would be without Middle-Earth.

 17: If you owned a bookshop what would you call it? 

It’s funny, because I’ve actually fantasized about owning a bookshop before, but…I’ve never actually thought about what I’d name it? xD yeah..so. Hrmmm…I want to say I’d name it something terribly clever and nerdy, maybe a reference to a famous library from literature or history (Hurtfew Books? Alexandria Books?) But then I’d probably worry about no one getting it, or even worse thinking I was being really clever when I wasn’t at all, and so I’d probably end up going with something simpler and more to-the-point.

35: Name a book you consider to be terribly underrated

The Books of Pellinor series by Alison Croggon only has five fics on Ao3 :/

 Alright, these books are just some of my favorites. They have everything I love in them: epic fantasy, and bards, and world building, and alien fae-like beings with morals unlike those of mortal men. These books…oh, how to I explain it? They have the feeling of a Tolkien book, with all of the high beauty, wide, epic scope and beautiful linguistic style, while still remaining a story wholly of it’s own. Seriously, if any of this sounds good to you, you should go read these books.

48: Where is your favorite place to read?

Curled up in the corner of the couch beneath a blanket. Preferably with it raining outside. ;)

50: Why do you love to read?

I love to read for the same reason I love to write. I love stories. I love getting into another person’s mind in a way that is so intimate, and that I could never do in any other way. I love the ability that books give you to see new sights and experience things through other people’s point of view. I love the way books can reach into the deepest parts of you and make you hurt or laugh or feel fear or relief. I love how books allow you to escape from yourself, for just a while. I love breading because I love stories, and stories are powerful things.

[randomfanficlounge-blog]

Antisepticeye Dossier

A/N: Vix here with another dossier! These are more or less just thoughts I've been thinking to myself. For me, that's kinda what makes certain fanmade characters of YouTubers interesting to me. You get to sit there and try to discover what makes the character tick and all that. I have seen a lot of people, not all but a lot, of people pursue more of either 'what' and 'how' a character came to be.    

Which are very good questions but most of the time, people forget the 'why' portion of the character's existence. Why do they exist? Why do they do what they do? Why are they like this? And so on and so forth. And figured it'd be best to write it all down in case I forget important details and such. Also acts kinda like a FAQ... depending on the question. Also it is subject to change as I tweak it here and there in the future. Remember, I did not create Antisepticeye this is all just my collection of thoughts of how he came to be. Why he came to be as he is now. Anti is relatively new to me but caught my interest and after watching several videos, mostly one that show all the Antispeticeye moments… I sat here and thought about it. Hell I'm listening to the original song, Anti Personality by SecretlyMarkiplier'sBarry, right now as I'm writing this. Fucking good song to be honest.  

But since Anti is still new to me, there's not going to be very much information on him here, until I finish my analysis of the character. Enjoy.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Theme: Anti Personality by SecretlyMakiplier'sBarry Name: AntiSepticEye Aka: Anti, AntiSeptic, Anti-Jack Age: N/A (depends on when his concept 'creation' was made which I don't know) [but for now his age is equal to Jack's which is: 27 years old] Height: Exact height as Jack Weight: Exact same as Jack's weight Hair: Exact same as Jack's style, if only a bit more wild and the green fluctuating between a darker or lighter shade than Jack's Eyes: Blue but can at will turn them into a solid jet black Clothing: Originally, he was clothed in dark hoodie and jeans. Currently wears a slimming black T-shirt, skinny black jeans and black shoes. Possibly a type of boot. He also wears a pair of black stud earrings, gothic in type. Unsure if they are the magnetic types or bar bell. Personality: Erratic and demented, Anti is twisted in nature, often giggling and laughing maniacally between bouts of ranting and raving. He has a strong desire to harm others by any kind of means; be it physical, emotional or psychological. He pairs that desire with his desire in scaring others, often interfering Jack's videos with his presence and sliding his beloved knife across his own neck to generate that fear; which he takes great delight in.

But he also harbors a great amount of anger and hatred for the fanbase and Jack himself… as well as a hatred for Darkiplier. Perhaps even a wicked streak of envy a mile long, perhaps jealous of the love Jack receives from the viewers; the fan-base thinking less of the evil entity and Dark being the more popular dark entity.

Granted, that is… debatable. He never truly states his reasons why he's angry. He's also quite intelligent, just because he's insane doesn't mean he's a fool. [Edit:] His intelligence is proven in a recent video 'Kill Jacksepticeye Bio INC Redemption' where he reveals that the entire time the fan-base had believed they had gotten Jack back from Anti, that it had been Anti who was in control and fooling them from the start. Not does make it amusing for him in fooling the fan-base but also agitated that they once again, threw him aside for Jack and mocked him. To which he threatens more harm on Jack 'next time', should the community forget about him or mock him again. He seems to also threaten Jack's other alter egos with harm should they step out of line once more. Anti is growing more confident in his powers and abilities, conducting control over Jack and the other alter egos like a puppeteer. He openly taunts and challenges the Jack's community to 'rescue' Jack themselves, as the alter egos are under his control and power. Weapons: Currently only known to have his beloved knife, but its possible he has multiple blades hidden on his person. Fighting Style: Close quarters with his knife (or knives) as his weapon of choice. Possibly a defensive fighter. Strengths: Aside his possible expert skills with the use of a knife; Anti possesses great agility, similar to Jack obviously. This also gives him great flexibility to dodge attacks and strikes, paired with his knives and possible defensive style; Anti can twist his way around oncoming attacks and slice at his opponents with his knives. It also gives him better chances at striking vital organs and if he manages to get behind his target, go right for slitting the throat.

Be mindful, however, that attacking him at close range is not recommended at the highest degree. With his glitchy movements, striking Anti is almost impossible and even harder to read his movements. Even mid-range and long-range attackers are to be wary, his speed and agility will allow him to close distances in short bursts.

Its gathered that he's able to create illusions and generate fear with those illusions to work in his favor. Its likely he is able to glitch warp in short distances and can interfere and control electronic equipment, namely cameras, computers and microphones. It is uncertain if he can warp into the internet like Virus!Cry can or not; but it is proven that he can cross to other dimensions as shown in Darkiplier VS Antisepcticeye video. Which could lead to possibly have the strength of a tulpa, like Darkiplier.

[Edit:] Anti's powers and abilities are growing in an alarming rate. He has exceeded prediction with his hold on Jacksepticeye. He refuses to let him go and it is concerning that he has been active this entire time since October of last year. It seems that he can control his host and his alter egos like a puppeteer, making them walk and talk as he wishes, or able to interfere with their doings if they attempt to help Jack escape his grasp. Extreme caution is warranted, Anti is a wild card and enjoys every minute of it. Weaknesses: Uncertain. It is not known what exactly are his weaknesses. So only those we deem as 'weakness' will be listed for now. While its possible that Anti can appear at will if he wishes, it seems to only last for a short amount of time. It also seems he can take control much better and faster, if Jack is under stress or terrified and possibly on Halloween. But Anti can also appear if he so much as feels as if Jack or the fan-base 'forgot' him or cross some invisible line with him.

As he is, for now, listed as a defensive fighter, its assumed that he does not have much in attack power, making him more towards a defense/evasion speed class fighter. So its possible for more powerful enemies to overwhelm him if they manage to get a hit in.

[Edit:] It seems there is another weakness Anti shows. His strong desire to be recognized and seeking attention… this is possible that he needs the viewers to pay attention and keep in him in mind for his strength and power to grow. As well as his overconfidence, that could lead to his downfall in the near future… but he is intelligent. His eyes never leave the viewers, his 'puppets'… even if he fails this time, he will learn and grow stronger. Relations: Jack (JackSepticEye) as his host for possessing and lighter counterpart; Mark (Markiplier) destests the man; Dark (Darkiplier) absolute hatred

Fears: Unknown Backstory: Unknown

Theories: 1) I was thinking along the lines that Jack is still alive, because... you know, Anti would have difficulty controlling a dead body and no amount make up and cologne would cover that up. But its possible that, Anti made us and Jack think he died, because there's not enough 'blood' to show that Jack bled to death for his evil counterpart to posses. Remember what Anti says as Jack was playing one game, "Forgotten? Or too afraid to remember?"

Jack could've been SO scared about the action Anti was making him commit in front of the camera so much in Say Goodbye, that he passed out; allowing Anti to take control without realizing it, hence his 'last words' "Help me..." Which could imply Jack was calling for help in the hopes of someone walking into his room and snatch the knife from him or attempt to rescue him before he thought he was dying. So this could mean that Anti needs Jack to be alive (until fans start to think of him as an entirely separate entity like how we recognize Darkiplier is) but unconscious or weak from fear or stress to take control for more than a few seconds. But this is just all in theory, yes I posted the theory in Antisepticeye page in Fandom wiki. 2) Given Anti's ranting in Say Goodbye then in Always Watching, it sounds like he's angry at the fanbase for he assumes to be 'walking all over' Jack… and angry at Jack for being 'too weak' to put his foot down. So its possible that Anti had wanted to protect Jack but with Jack suppressing him and keeping him inside 'for too long', he was denying Anti the right to do so. Locked away and chained where he couldn't lash out, Anti could have gone insane with his desire to help and his rage at the fanbase and then later towards Jack, has cracked his mind. And lost all care of 'protecting' and went for harming and generating fear to get people and Jack to listen to him. Again, all in theory. 3) With the same videos… as listed previously, this theory tilts toward the idea of Anti being a tulpa, a manifestation of the minds of the fan-base and Jack himself, thus being the evil and insane counterpart of the Irish YouTuber. But… no one paid attention to him and became jealous and angry of being 'created' for no reason but to be a whimsical fantasy… perhaps merely a 'copied' idea fans had thought about in relation to Darkiplier.

That could be his source of hatred for them all, just nothing but a copy and not treated equally.

And in his jealously, he sets out to take the attention he believes he deserves… one way or another, doing things that others couldn't do. Possessing Jack and 'killing' him to prove his power (which is very likely an illusion he created to gain easy access to Jack's body) ; and directly challenging Dark for position of 'King' of the… dark realm they're in, to prove he is better and assert his existence to others. [Whether it be Raspy Hill (given that Dark had shooed him away and told him he 'didn't belong' and to 'go home'…) Or YouTuHell (or YouTuDark… whatever the hell the darkside of Youtube is called) or some other dark realm Dark rules over currently.]

The actions he does, the interferences with Jack's videos to openly confronting Darkiplier, could be ways of him not wanting to be taken lightly, thought of as second best or perhaps to not be forgotten. 4) Combining theories 1 and 3…

Anti seems to be a tulpa, a manifestation of the minds of the fan-base and Jack himself, thus being the evil and insane counterpart of the Irish YouTuber. But… no one paid attention to him and became jealous and angry of being 'created' for no reason but to be a whimsical fantasy… perhaps merely a 'copied' idea fans had thought about in relation to Darkiplier.

That could be his source of hatred for them all, just being thought of nothing but a copy and not treated equally.

And in his jealously, he sets out to take the attention he believes he deserves, one way or another... doing things that others couldn't do. Forcing Jack to believe he was dying to easily possess the unconscious and terrified YouTuber. After all, he enjoys harming others, you can't harm a 'dead' person. But he can harm him more than physically, letting Jack suffer in trapping him in his own mind, unable to communicate with the fan-base freely. Even going as far control his movements, watching him with a sharp eye.

This action allows Anti to prove his power as well as instill fear, dominance and control over Jack, his alter egos and the community. Anti seems to grow in power the more people think of him and he continues to fuel that thought to gain that extra strength. This strength allows him keep control over Jack, pretending to be him to fool and taunt the community. Of course, it doesn't take long for Anti to be upset as people don't think of him often as he likes… which is to be evil and extremely feared.

In the video, 'Kill Jacksepticeye Bio INC Redemption', Anti interferes with Dr. Schneeplestein's attempts to save Jack. Taking control of his actions to stall and make things worse, even go as far as nearly getting the doctor to strangle himself with the headphones' wire. This proves his strength in power and being able to take control of others aside from Jack.

Though this is probably because Dr. Schneep is an alter ego Jack has.

Anti rants about being in control and tired of the fan-base ignoring him. Its possible that while in Jack's body and searching around to see what people thought of him (Anti), he sees that people… do not fear him. Instead, they romanticize him and turning him into, what he calls, a 'glitch bitch'… which he doesn't like being seen as and sees it as an insult.

I mean, I don't blame him really. You're an evil counterpart of someone and people think of you as a romantic figure and basically whipped… you'd be pissed too.

It's also possible that he's angry at being mocked in the 'Darkiplier vs Antisepticeye' video. Doing it with Mark, in thinking it would be more serious, only to see it was a mockery of what he wanted to do. Which is directly challenging Dark for position of 'King' of the… dark realm they're in, to prove he is better and assert his existence to others.

This is kinda proven when Anti mocks 'Dark' to 'put on' more make-up; cunningly insulting Mark that he was as weak as Jack and that the world is Anti's since Jack isn't there to stop him. As well as taunt Mark that his best friend is gone and he doesn't even realize it. Though that is merely an assumption. But its still scary to think about… all the youtubers pretending to be their evil personas and yet there was a true one among them.

The actions he does, interfering with Jack's videos to openly taunting the community, could be ways of him not wanting to be taken lightly, thought of as second best; and most importantly, to not be forgotten. [These are currently the theories made so far by this mind… more could be made as more information is found. For the current moment, this report on subject: AntiSepticEye is up to date.] [The document is subject to change as more information is brought to light. And as subject: AntiSepticEye grows in power… there will be more to come.]

[dawnfelagund]

On Writing Aman, or the Balance between the Mythic and the Real

This essay was written for Back to Middle-earth Month 2017 for the orange/nonfiction path and the prompt “Worldbuilding.” It can also be read on the B2MeM community and the Silmarllion Writers’ Guild.

"In Valinor, all the days are beautiful."

This was the very first line I wrote in my very first serious Silmarillion fan fiction, Another Man's Cage . But I don't believe it. (Which is okay--those were Celegorm's words, not mine.) In fact, the twelve years of writing Silmarillion-based fiction could be seen as an exercise in proving Celegorm's sentiment here wrong.

Early feedback on the first draft of AMC largely focused on this point. A comment by JunoMagic (now SatisMagic) sums this up nicely:

What I think is most difficult about stories that are primarily concerned with Elves and Elves in Aman at that, is how to keep their inherent elvishness alive and present throughout the story, a feeling that this is not a story about another kind of men, but about a different kind of beings, however closely related they might be. (emphasis mine)

The challenge of writing not-wholly-human beings is hardly new to the fantasy genre. Ursula LeGuin's essay “From Elfland to Poughkeepsie” addresses it. "But the point about Elfland," she writes, "is that you are not at home there. It's not Poughkeepsie. It's different" (145). Most of LeGuin's essay focuses on style and the precarious process of achieving a style that sounds otherworldly without being distancing. But she takes jabs as well at fantasists who veer to close to the human and the our-worldly in their work:

The Lords of Elfland are true lords, the only true lords, the kind that do not exist on this earth: their lordship is the outward sign or symbol of real inward greatness. And greatness of soul shows when a man speaks. At least, it does in books. In life we expect lapses. In naturalistic fiction, too, we expect lapses, and laugh at an "overheroic" hero. But in fantasy, which, instead of imitating the perceived confusion and complexity of existence, tries to hint at an order and clarity underlying existence--in fantasy, we need not compromise. (148, emphasis mine)

So while LeGuin's essay is ostensibly about style, she also argues for characters of a "kind that do not exist on this earth," which is a profoundly different thing. This gets back to the early criticism of AMC: readers' unease with elements of the story that felt too "human" or "not Aman enough," like weapons and predators and Elves who pee. I think this unease is far less common now than it was ten years ago; I like to think that my generation of Silmfic writers had something to do with that, as did the shift away from Tolkien fan fiction as largely a practice by fans already deeply committed to the books (and the orthodoxy of mainstream Tolkien fandom) and toward participation by fans who came to the fandom through one of the film trilogies (as indeed I did). These fans bring practices common to Fanworks as a Whole but not necessarily the Tolkien fanworks community as it existed in its original online form, practices which seem to allow for an easier break with fanon and orthodox interpretive approaches to the texts. But the issue still remains: How does one worldbuild a place like Aman?

Juno's comment on AMC hints at this: The Elves of Aman are different and more difficult to write than Elves in general (who also pose their difficulties). Or: Aman is more of the rarefied, not-of-this-earth Elfland that LeGuin places at the heart of a successful fantasy story. I don't want to say that this is wrong--I admire both women as writers and thoughtful critics of fiction--but I also see this view as posing difficulties that LeGuin does not acknowledge in her essay. (Juno does, in her discussion with me back when.)

Successful fiction, for most people, requires a connection to something real, something they can relate to. (I know some people would disagree with this. But for most of us, reading a story that carries no connection to anything recognizable to us is not a pleasurable experience.) Tolkien recognized this. In his essay On Fairy-stories, he spoke of the necessity of an "inner consistency of reality" and noted, "The keener and clearer the reason, the better fantasy will it make," i.e., one must understand the rules of the world before remaking them (section "Fantasy"). The best of authors are, in many ways, the builders of bridges: They take recognizable human experiences or components of our familiar world and use them to bear us unwittingly across the chasm to an unfamiliar world or existence. Suddenly, sometimes without knowing how we arrived there, we look up to find ourselves existing (fictionally) as a person we detest or inhabiting an experience we knew nothing about--or living in a world not our own: an alien planet, an underworld, an Elfland.

The risk comes when that bridge is so tenuous, so frail that the crossing becomes difficult or even impossible, and we stand on the other side, looking into a world or existence as a character that we cannot really connect to. It isn't quite believable or real. Some might argue that is part of the point--LeGuin makes the case for escapism in her essay, which was a major component of Tolkien's theory of fantasy as well1--but escapism is far from the sole reason for reading or writing fantasy. In fact one could--and I would--make the claim that fantasy functions just as easily as a test environment for ideas that would perhaps stretch the bounds of belief if grounded in our world. Fantasy as a genre, after all, is defined primarily by the author's ability to bend the rules "just because." That allows for the stereotypical sorcery and dragons, of course, but it also allows authors to add gender equality or benevolent monarchs or immortality, or to explore the darker elements of what it means to be human--genocide, colonialism, and slavery are all present in The Silmarillion, for example--without exploiting or misrepresenting the experiences of actual victims of those things in our real world. Adding such elements provokes interesting questions about what it means to be human in our world without becoming so entangled in the complexities of real-world history and modern society and the emotions these things incite.

Which brings me back to the question of Aman and how best to write stories set in this otherworldly place. A good deal of it depends on your purpose for writing about Aman: Is it an escape? Or are you situating a recognizable human experience inside an otherworldly setting to see what comes of it?

For me, it is the latter, and not just because I find this the most meaningful type of fiction to write but because the material Tolkien gave me to work with suggests this approach. Earlier, I emphasized LeGuin's quote that "[t]he Lords of Elfland are true lords, the only true lords, the kind that do not exist on this earth: their lordship is the outward sign or symbol of real inward greatness" (148). If the magic of Elfland comes from language and style, then LeGuin is correct to hold up Tolkien as a master of "the genuine Elfland accent," but what she says here is a whole 'nuther animal, and had LeGuin had access to The Silmarillion--she wrote "From Elfland to Poughkeepsie" in 1973--then she might have been less confident in this assertion about the "true lords" of Elfland (148).

As a nascent Tolkien fan, I fell in love first with The Lord of the Rings and, when I reread it now, love it anew for reasons I need articulate to no fan of Tolkien. But what seized my heart and transported me fully to Middle-earth was The Silmarillion. I've spent thirteen years now writing stories about The Silmarillion, motivated largely by a desire to understand the flawed world and characters it presents. Most of my stories are set in Aman. This possibly seems contradictory: If I love flaws, then why would I set most of my work in "Elfland," in a place described as "blessed, for the Deathless dwelt there, and there naught faded nor withered, neither was there any stain upon flower or leaf in that land, nor any corruption or sickness in anything that lived; for the very stones and waters were hallowed" (Silmarillion, "Of the Beginning of Days")?

One doesn't have to look far to realize that this description is idealized. There is first of all Míriel Serindë, who not only sickened but died, right there in Valinor, in the most exalted of acts: giving birth to her child. Ungoliant dwelled "there in Avathar, secret and unknown," where "beneath the sheer walls of the mountains and the cold dark sea, the shadows were deepest and thickest in the world," in sight of Valmar and the Two Trees (Silmarillion, "Of the Darkening of Valinor"). Of course, Melkor lived there for many ages; the Silmarils, also described as "hallowed" ("Of the Silmarils"), burned his hand when he touched them, but he could abide the also (supposedly) "hallowed" Aman?

Aman isn't a flawless realm but a realm that carries a convincing veneer of flawlessness. This has been essential in my worldbuilding within the bounds of Aman. Over the years, I have given Aman universities, hunger, seaside resorts, a redlight district, and most recently, democracy. One of my favorite Tolkien resources of all time is Darth Fingon's “Twenty-Two Words You Never Thought Tolkien Would Provide” because it gives us a look beneath the veneer of Aman.

I believe this veneer takes strength to maintain that is not possible to sustain over the long term, even for the Ainur. We see this again and again in Tolkien's world--Doriath, Gondolin, Nargothrond, Númenor, Imladris, Lothlórien, all isolated and protected places that eventually fall or wither with time--but Aman is rarely included as such a place. We assume Aman had genuine sublimity--not least of all because many of the realms on the list above imitate Aman; not least of all because it is the creation of the divine and eternal Ainur--but I'm not sure that the land that harbored Ungoliant can be labeled as ideal. The illusion is tattered, and reality is bound to enter in.

In my stories, the effort to keep up the veneer of perfection means that the further one is from Valinor proper--from the part of the realm most carefully constructed and maintained by the Valar--the more ordinary the realm appears. This is based in the fact that Ungoliant's unnoticed occupancy of Avathar--which including weaving vast, black, light-sucking webs among the mountains there--seems at least partially predicated on the fact that it is "far south of great Taniquetil" where the "Valar were not vigilant" (Silmarillion, "Of the Darkening of Valinor"). However, in the same passage, both Melkor and Ungoliant are described as able to descry the Light of the Trees and other features of Valinor; they don't seem to be that far away. The power of the Valar may be more limited than the idealist description of Valinor in the text would suppose and doesn't seem to extend across the extent of Aman. I have used this same idea in my stories about Aman: As one journeys further from the epicenter, the veneer of perfection thins and then disappears altogether. Formenos in the north, in my stories, is set in a part of the land with seasons, including winter, and predators that residents warn their children against. These elements of my depiction of Aman were among those questioned by early readers of my work.

Likewise, some of the residents of Aman were born in Middle-earth and their personalities shaped in the crucible of the early conflicts with Melkor. Aman, therefore, could hardly guarantee an edenic existence for the Eldar, innocent of the knowledge of grief, violence, and death; rather, the Elves who came to Aman doubtlessly brought with them both survival skills and trauma from their tenure in darkened Middle-earth. This is an idea that is frequently explored by Silmarillion writers (including me) in the context of sexuality: Before the laws of the Valar were imposed upon them, the Elves would have had a more naturalistic and lenient view of sex. Without delving beyond its title, Laws and Customs among the Eldar is just that: among the Eldar, and this choice of wording from the semantically fastidious Tolkien feels deliberate and laden with potential meaning. But the presence of Elves from Middle-earth--including all of the leaders of the Eldar in Aman--presents significance beyond sex. Weapons are an issue I wrote about as early as AMC--proposing, somewhat in defiance of canon, that Elves in Aman possessed swords as historical artifacts and also for athletic pursuits--that drew criticism then, at least in part because what use have the people of Aman for weapons? I say that allowing swords to certain groups of Eldar in Aman is "somewhat" in defiance of canon because Tolkien himself waffled on this issue, seeing the question of weapons as a potential plot hole.2 He concluded that it was unreasonable to expect that they didn't possess weapons on the Great Journey. Consider this implications of this. Into the so-called Deathless Realm came Elves experienced in making and using weapons, whose minds most likely devised of instruments of death and violence on their own, possibly among their first creative acts. How is such a culture shaped by the of reality life in Middle-earth, illuminated only by the stars and under duress of an enemy too strong and cunning even for the Valar? How is that effect amplified when those who endured such an experience do not die, leaving their descendents to progress into a more pacific existence without them, but retain that formative mindset, those skills and those traumas, into the ages?

But trauma does not end with those born outside of Aman. Events within Aman wreak havoc upon those likewise born within its borders: In fact, that they occur in Aman seems an inescapable component of the trauma.

Perhaps the most salient example of this is Fëanor. Fëanor lost his mother and watched the Valar bend the rules to allow his father to remarry, ensuring in the process that Míriel could never be reborn. These events alone would have been potentially traumatic. But consider how their occurrence in Aman of all places compounds that trauma, adding a sort of insult to injury, as Fëanor doubtlessly progressed through his life hearing how fortunate the Elves were to live in the safety of the "deathless realm." His own experience would have been very different, and it must have been painful or galling to hear Aman celebrated while understanding that ideal was only a veneer--a concept doubtlessly controversial, if not impossible, to articulate.

Likewise, the conflict in the House of Finwë is worsened by its happening in Aman. When Fëanor draws his sword on Fingolfin, he is accused primarily of having "broken the peace of Valinor and drawn his sword upon his kinsman"; almost as an afterthought, Námo Mandos adds that the "deed was unlawful, whether in Aman or not in Aman," but it is hard to imagine Fëanor would have received a penalty so severe anywhere else (Silmarillion, "Of the Silmarils"). The primary transgression seems to be manifesting an emotion--expressed through the powerful symbolism of the drawn sword--that belies the illusion of a land without corruption. The cauldron of circumstances that produced this rash act are not examined in any meaningful way; instead, the rash actor is hidden away in the name of restoring peace--or at least the illusion of it.

Taken together, I believe that worldbuilding Aman as an "Elfland" as LeGuin understands it is a fundamental flaw. The lords of Aman are the very ones we see on earth: They are idealistic to the point of naïveté (the Valar); they want what they don't have (Finwë); they are jealous, vulnerable, angry, in pain (Fëanor). One can extrapolate outward from these supposedly greatest of the residents of Aman to assume that the land is not as impeccable as the rhapsodizing of the narrator of The Silmarillion would have us believe. To look no further than the dust of diamonds upon one's shoes in walking there, to never glimpse the faces of those who dwell there and what hides behind their eyes, is to be so dazzled by a beautiful illusion as to miss what matters.

Notes

1. On escapism as a motive for fantasy see Tolkien's essay On Fairy-stories, in the section "Recovery, Escape, Consolation":

I have claimed that Escape is one of the main functions of fairy-stories, and since I do not disapprove of them, it is plain that I do not accept the tone of scorn or pity with which "Escape" is now so often used … Why should a man be scorned if, finding himself in prison, he tries to get out and go home? Or if, when he cannot do so, he thinks and talks about other topics than jailers and prison-walls?

2. On the question of weapons in Aman, see The History of Middle-earth, Vol. X: Morgoth's Ring, The Annals of Aman, note on §97 (page 106 in the hardcover edition). Tolkien originally stated that "Melkor spoke to the Eldar concerning weapons, which they had not before possessed or known," then emphatically argued with himself in a marginal note: "No! They must have had weapons on the Great Journey," concluding that they had "weapons of the chase, spears and bows and arrows." Swords may be a step too far for some people--although Tolkien's own inconclusiveness on this issue leaves me feeling it is far from carved in stone--but weapons in Aman certainly were not.