#but legend has been bothering me ever since i first read the comic

[autumnoakes]

hello lu fandom i have started falling back into lu and i have thoughts on wild again

anyways i think that there are a few members of the chain that don't trust wild or give him the ability to demonstrate his own abilities. and i imagine it would be frustrating for wild to constantly be held at arm's length or constantly be yelled at for doing things incorrectly. legend, time, and warriors are the worst for this.

this post by @luna-loveboop (sorry for the tag!) discusses how warriors tends to view wild and how wild acts in response to that. wars has been shown to hold wild to the standard of one of his soldiers, which is not something he does with any of the other links. in turn, wild doesn't really know how to act around or talk to warriors. legend (although he has been shown to joke around with wild from time to time) doesn't seem like he really likes wild much, let alone trusts him. leg's always calling wild things like "crazy" and insinuating that wild is too uncivilized and routinely nitpicks the way he does things. time, right now, is just on edge so he's more of a hardass than usual. he and wild tend to get along well, but i personally tend to headcanon that there's still a lack of trust in there.

i think it can be insulting to wild when he's a hero in his own right, who woke up with nothing one day and was told to save the world. yes, his methods are different from a lot of the others' methods but that's the nature of his game(s). i think the way that legend and warriors routinely treat wild is the most telling and the most likely to cause issues. wild hasn't said anything about this yet. either he doesn't want to cause a problem or he just hasn't noticed.

[armoredone]

Why I love Reiner. ( or DJ can't ever shut up about characters who do shitty things and still end up being heroes. ) This is long as hell, probably not coherent, and also has a lot of lore regarding my favorite superhero so don't mind me lol.

Okay so, going into watching AoT I had no expectations, I was really along for the ride, but I was floored how quickly I got into the characters, which has always been the most important part of any media for me. The dialogue, the music, and the animation all really went hand in hand in crafting the world quickly for me and while Annie was the first character that became a favorite of mine, that was quickly surpassed once season 2 came and Reiner started getting more focus and his scenes started hinting that there was more to him than meets the eye until the grand reveal which easily is still in my top 5 moments of the entire series.

The above being said, my attachment to Reiner before season 2 came from his vague big brother energy which I share with a few of my other favorite characters like Chris Redfield of Resident Evil or Garen from League of Legends. Kind of wild since I'm a younger sibling irl, but I do love an older sibling-like character.

REGARDLESS, that was before the big reveal, and it turns out my love for him stems similarly to another character. Jean Grey. This might be a reach for people who have never read an X-Men comic, but Jean's biggest story is her committing a terrible act after the abuse and things done to her push her to a breaking point until she snaps. ( The Dark Phoenix Saga ).

I was already eye emoji at my friends once Reiner has line about how they were just kids when they broke the wall, and obviously I came to that conclusion quickly that age wise they would have been VERY young when they attacked the wall, but my suspicions even came more clear that the story wasn't so black and white as the episodes went on. Bertholdt's speech and crying when Reiner was carrying him, Reiner's breakdown in the tree, the way the two of them made it their mission that Christa would get Ymir's letter. I was VERY thrilled that AoT wasn't bothering to hide the fact that these two and Annie were not mustache twirling villains, but nuanced characters who were forced and pushed into doing something because of shit they endured. The episode dedicated to Reiner's trauma and past even confirmed this more for me and it really settled in why I love him so much.

Reiner is brainwashed from a young age, his only goal is drilled into him from his mother's crying. He wants to make his mother happy, he wants to give her a home away from the internment zone, he wants to become a hero and save the world so his parents will love and be proud of him.

So he busts down the wall and gets a bunch of innocent people killed.

Jean Grey is Charles Xaviers's favorite and first student, she surpasses him in power and from a young age Charles blocks some of Jean's powers for "her own good". On a mission back from space, Jean dies protecting the X-Men from a solar flare, and during this event Jean is transformed into the Phoenix. I'm not going to go into details about this lore, because it has changed back and forth, but tl;dr Jean is possessed by the cosmic force that represents life itself, but it's also her, the Phoenix has always been her, it's a part of her, it's her natural gifts while also being an entity living inside her. This has become explicitly canon in the most recent comics.

Anyways, Jean as Phoenix eventually begins to get psychically brainwashed by the evil socialite group called the Hellfire Club, and during this time Jean is sexually assaulted and forced to do terrible things to her friends. Eventually she is able to regain control, but during this moment, Jean's mind snaps and the barriers Charles created to hold back her abilities break and she becomes the Dark Phoenix, she escapes to space where she devours a star and quite literally destroys an entire inhabited planet that orbited that star, committing genocide.

This is where I am making the parallel. Both Jean and Reiner commit a terrible act that ends with the deaths of a lot of people. ( Jean's act was 100% worse though let's be real lol )

And while both acts have a lot of blame that can be shifted to outside forces, it was still them, their choice, they did it. Reiner was an abused child who thought he was doing something good, Jean was a woman who had been used, abused and controlled by men in her life that she finally decided to snap and take control and ends up doing something awful.

Like Reiner, Jean suffered from the guilt of her actions, so much so that the Dark Phoenix Saga ends with her s*icide, as she was too frightened that if she were to live she'd do something terrible again. Reiner's s*icide attempt was the moment that really drove home the parallels for me. I love characters who do terrible things and then try to make up for them. Jean might have died, but she's a comic book character and she's very well known for coming back to life, and she's still wrestling with the actions she made during her most iconic storyline.

It's one of my favorite things about Jean, she's a woman who strives to be good and make up for her mistakes, but also is extremely self righteous and makes excuses for herself, never quite owning up to the choice she made. Was it entirely her fault? No. But was it still her choice to destroy an entire planet? Yes.

Reiner is similar, but he never makes excuses for himself once he returns to Marley. I find the similarities and differences so fascinating. He wants to die, he wants his guilt and suffering to end, and yet he keeps going, he has Gabi and Falco to protect, and eventually he stays alive long enough to save what's left of humanity and along the way the people he secretly loved and hurt realize the position he had been in.

The author could have easily given Reiner a sacrificial death, I honestly expected that's where his story was going, but I'm so glad and was surprised that he survived. I think him living and healing and striving to be a better person is a much better ending for him than just letting him die for the others ( even though he came close like 949394 times lmao ) It's another parallel to Jean and my love for her, comics are an ongoing story and Jean's current one is definitely about her saving the galaxy she once nearly destroyed, she's healing and she's striving to be a better person despite most planets in Marvel's space hating her.

To break things down, I love characters who make mistakes, who are written with contradictions, who are hypocrites and who are raw and real. Reiner is one of these, and I'd argue he's now my second most favorite fictional character, his character arc and nuanced writing impressed me so much and I can't wait to explore more of him, including the queer themes I am injecting into him because I saw the building blocks for those while watching.

[papaiyatree]

okay so i realized i had more thoughts than i could put inside tags but this is supposed to be a continuation to my tags right here :

anw stuff under the cut i don't wanna annoy people w a possibly long post lmao (also i hope you're not too bothered with this ramble op!)

there r people under ur post saying that cass should be in "more things" but the thing is... she is in a lot more things right now? :

for the first we have spirit world where some subtley major things happen to her character:

instead of still going with the whole "vaguley chinese" thing that plagues cass (and subsequently, lady shiva) they decide to actually make some level of specification, that being: she speaks cantonese— xanthe replies with "canto, huh?..." so i'm assuming that's what you call the chinese folks that speak that language/dialect. (i am not sure since i am Not chinese!) this thing comes from this free comic book day special short story thing

there's this really cool thing that feels like it's sort of testing cass' morals but yk. it's just such a blurred line that she dabbled on. not sure if they'll ever address it again but it's super cool and i'd like to see more subtle story-telling with a character like cassandra. we see her face it feels... weird. even i had trouble trying to dissect what her expression was supposed to be. but it's one that's supposed to be solemn. like she's pondering. feels like she's questioning it, and with the way issue 2 has gone, it wouldn't be surprising if the writer dabbled onto it more. (also i trust the writer with my life LMAO)

her pondering is also contrasted by bowen (guy with the blue garments) being amazed by the fact she can do that. amazed of what she could do. amazed of what else she can do.

i feel like if spirit world was given much more than just a mini series it could really do more for cass' character!

#2 though batgirls has one issue left (?) (not sure) issue #14 is worthy of all sorts of applause. i genuinely think that the way the writer wrote her there feels so much like cassandra's peak. incredible. chef's kiss.

batgirls has never really been good like that. it really usually isn't. in fact i could go on a tangent about how much i despised all the little and big things it did. but i won't. this issue alone was able to save the series in my eyes, and it also proved to me that cass' character isn't completely forgotten. yeah most of the batgirls is mid but this issue.... yeah... 'twas so good fr.

#3 before this, cass out of all the batgirls was the most active with storylines that mattered and an actual good characterization : stuff like batman and the outsiders (i haven't read this yet lol), her little conversation with kate kane in urban legends, her short story in the aapi festival comic that dc released. i'd say of all the batgirls, she's been the one eating good recently (when i say recently i mean post-rebirth (?))

#4 now, let's think about the future of this character. what could it possibly hold... oh that's right, a birds of prey run. she is going to join the birds of prey. do you guys not understand how big this is. i know that this is also a side effect of the hq:bop movie, but we might be able to get her in-character as a part of the birds of prey. so like, thank god. always wondered how she'd interact with the birds of prey (except the lineup has been disappointing and have been very un-birds of prey of the birds of prey so.)

also important to note that more books that u're in ≠ the amount of respect that'll show in ur writing. quite the opposite, actually. like, if dc continued this slow drip-feeding process of cassandra cain content but it's as good as stuff like spirit world? i'd settle for that. sometimes it's better not to have too much content getting out about a character. though i certainly think she deserves her own solo run after so long, if having a solo run will fuck up the quality we have then i'd rather have the slow drip-feeding 🤷

that's the perfect way to segue into her solo run! because of how good it is, i cannot, with good faith, say her writing has been shit for so long. like, are you insane? that is so good?

which leads me onto my next point : writing-wise isn't the same as higher-up treatment. at least for me. i do think higher-up treatment will affect the writing very much. they are the higher-ups. but i feel like a lot of what the people complain abt when it comes to cass mostly comes from dc execs/higher-ups/whatever mistreating her character. if ur problem is "she hasn't been in a lot of things" that's a lot less about the writers, actually. more about the folks thinking about what to publish.

so, to talk about babs, let's talk about the birds of prey lineup: oracle, one of the founders and literal reason as to why the group existed is not present. in the nightwing books? she's just the good ole sweet girlfriend who could do nothing wrong. she's someone who flexes that she can do Things now with her spinal magicure shenanigan as if she hadn't done more when she was on the wheelchair permanently. in the batgirls? the mom friend who could do no wrong, sometimes on her wheelchair, sometimes not. progress, sure but... not enough. somehow the fact someone was able to get in her system is not a dcu-wide event. as if she doesn't have so much sensitive info in it, specifically on superheroes. and the same with detective comics, why was her clocktower so easy to get into? in the 90's comics even nightwing and black canary had trouble. how'd they know where oracle is. and in the batman books, she cannot even land a hit on failsafe in the digital space. as if she wasn't the same woman who was able to defeat brainiac when he was mind controlling her.

she is constantly being depowered by writers who clearly don't know shit about her.

this is actually a problem that the batgirls face regularly, but it feels worse with oracle because well... the writers And higherups reinforce it. "but aiya, that's the same exact thing with cass!" except the tides are changing. as i said, cassandra has been getting a lotta good/ possibly good shit rn. and the way dc is trying to promote her makes me think that they might bring cass back into being the "main" batgirl. while at it too... cass is getting back in character! babs though... i don't see the light at the end of the tunnel, lmao. because they stuck so much with the silly teenage batgirl characterization of babs to make her more "hip" with the teens, it feels like they might just copy paste that onto oracle if they want her to be oracle. (which, they did. in the batgirls series, that's literally what they did.)

also to touch on the babs vs. cass thing bc i find it infinitely interesting. though because i only heard about this recently, i may not have the right knowledge. using babs as a reason to put cass into straight up asian character stereotypes is literally so ass. using babs as an excuse to hate her character is also so ass. apparently it happened bc grown men couldn't grow past their love for babs in the 1967/6 (?) batman show and btas. it's actually so gross to see it manifest because not only does it forces cass into asian stereotypes the first writers tried so hard to prevent, it also forced babs into more ableist writing. this coupled with the white feminism? holy shit one hell of a hellscape fr.

anyways honestly it kinda sucks that i have to pick btwn the two in terms of worst treatment but since cassandra is getting better rn, and babs, seemingly, isn't, so i put my vote on babs.

[ kinda important to say this but i made this ramble sleepy as hell so i just said shit that i knew already oop ]

Redo of my other poll but with ✨more options✨ (cus it was a 50 50 on weather to add these characters on the other poll but I decided against)

[stxleslyds]

so sorry if i'm wrong but it seems that nothing of Jason content since UtRH is ever right for you. that seems tiring

Hi Anon! Please don’t be sorry, I do complain a lot about the Jason content that we have had along the years and I have talked about my frustration on the matter too.

But in reality, even though I don’t find most Jason content appealing or well done, I am still happy for people that are able to enjoy the new content, oftentimes I find myself even feeling a little jealous of those who can accept other versions of Jason so easily.

My first contact with Jason was through the animated movie Batman: Under the Red Hood, I absolutely loved it and I was also really excited that Jensen Ackles was in the movie because I have always been a fan of his, but that was all I knew for a while about Jason Todd/Red Hood, if I wanted to read DC comics, I always picked up something with Dick Grayson in it.

Then a long time passed by and I came across Red Hood/Arsenal and because I saw that it had Roy in it, I decided to check it out. I was so horrified; Roy wasn’t really Roy and Red Hood didn’t seem to be the same as the Red Hood that I had seen in that movie years ago.

So, I went looking for information and Red Hood’s origin, and that’s when I read Batman: Under the Red Hood. Best comic book that I have ever read, it made me want to read more and more from DC, I had finally found a character in DC that I loved as much as Dick Grayson/Nightwing. But after reading that masterpiece I jumped directly into New 52 Red Hood and the Outlaws, my heart was broken and I hated every page that I read from it, Rebirth hadn’t started yet but I was able to find Red Hood: The Lost Days and I fell in love once more (only one thing bothered me and when I looked into it, I saw that Winick said that it had happened to make the reader feel bothered).

My love for that version of Jason was something that I could only find in two books, and I grew massively attached to it for some reason. But at the time Red Hood/Arsenal was coming to an end and I had already read New 52 RHatO too, so I knew that the Jason Todd that I had attached myself to didn’t really exist anymore.

The Jason that I want back so desperately sometimes appears here and there, I have been able to enjoy certain arcs and certain takes in different runs because of it but I am just attached to something that deep down, I know doesn’t exist anymore in the DC universe.

Sometimes it isn’t about Jason and how he is written but the situations and events they drag him towards, Jason is one of those characters that I feel DC doesn’t know what to do with, Lobdell’s characterization was messy for ten years and now he is in permanent limbo.

My greatest frustration with DC and their “treatment” of Jason is that they had many chances of making him be like he used to be, but they have not done that in favour of giving us a concept that will never work in comics’ canon.

I always try to keep my mind positive, I did it when Future State: Red Hood and Urban Legends: Cheer were announced. FS was a story that I could have enjoyed plot wise but because I don’t like “romances” or comics’ take on romance I wasn’t able to enjoy it as much as I wanted. Cheer’s first two parts were issues that I actually liked overall, and then… well, you can see it for yourself, my reviews grew more and more frustrated as the book seemed to lean more towards a Batman story and then a fanon Jason Todd/Red Hood story.

And now I am thrilled about Matthew Rosenberg’s Task Force Z, I cannot wait for that ongoing to begin, what I have already seen of Rosenberg’s Jason in Detective Comics has been amazing and I am really enjoying it so far.

So, it is tiring for me to sometimes get on the hype train and then realise that we are headed towards a cliff but I will still put myself on that train for some Red Hood content.

I just hope that everyone understands that my thoughts on Jason’s current characterization or path aren’t the absolute truth, I will never gatekeep Jason or Red Hood, I just come here to share my thoughts, I would love it if they were more positive and happier but the Jason that we have been getting just isn’t my cup of tea.

Anyway Anon, thank you for the ask and I hope you have a wonderful week!

[suzukiblu]

Fic Writer Meme

Tagged by my dear @dancinbutterfly, and like, obviously I will take any excuse to talk about writing.

.

1) how many works do you have on ao3?

168, although a few of those are podfics that the podficcer credited me as a co-author on. Actually less than I would’ve expected, tbh.

2) what is your total ao3 word count?

1,431,989. Honestly also kinda less than I would’ve expected at this point. I will blame all those old fics I never brought over from LJ and ff.net for this expectation.

3) how many fandoms have you written for, and what are they?

I literally cannot tell you, the ancient ways have been lost to me. I can give you my Ao3 fandoms, though!

Marvel Cinematic Universe

Avatar: The Last Airbender

Overwatch

The Witcher (Netflix)

Young Justice (Cartoon)

Animorphs

Star Wars

Good Omens

Venom

Fantastic Four

Leverage

League of Legends

Daredevil

Supernatural

Care Bears

World of Warcraft

Spider-Man

X-Men

Slender Man Mythos

Additionally, long ago: Naruto, Gundam Wing, Digimon, Ranma ½, Bleach, Inu-Yasha, and many scattered other fandoms of my youth. So, so many others. So I’ve written for 25+ fandoms, at least.

4) what are your top 5 fics by Kudos.

a mark, a mission, a brand, a scar (13004)

I once started out to walk around the world but ended up in Brooklyn (8450)

it’s a long way forward (so trust in me) (6965)

oh don’t you dare look back, just keep your eyes on me (6818)

if the bad times are coming let ‘em come (5362)

5) do you respond to comments?

Not really these days, though I hoard and treasure them like a freaking DRAGON. I used to respond to all of them but sometimes I’m just not around and then it becomes awkwardly late to reply and also they kinda . . . pile up a bit. I do try to answer all the comments with questions in them, at least, as long as the questions aren’t literally spoilers or anything like that.

6) what’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

I don’t usually write super-angsty endings, I think? I don’t FEEL like I usually write super-angsty endings, anyway, at least not these days. I think I did it more often when I was more into, like, drabbles and shortfic. Now I just spend way too long on stuff to give it a downer ending.

The most recent angsty ending I can think of is wanna hold him, maybe I’ll just sing about it, though eventually I did write a sequel to that to soften the blow a bit. And also torment people a bit. Both, technically. Technically both.

7) What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

blondes really do have more fun, definitely. It’s very . . . giddy, I guess? What with the gender euphoria and all. There’s angst and heavy emotions in the actual plot but the highs of the happy parts/ending are probably the highest/happiest ones I’ve written, and Supergirl gets everything she wants without having to compromise or give up anything else.

8) do you write crossovers? If so what is the craziest one you’ve ever written?

I write fusion fic more than crossovers, really, but I have written a LOT of fusion fic. Some of it has been weirder than others, tbh, but probably the Avatar: The Last Airbender/Animorphs fusion that I have been lovingly slaving over deserves to be this answer if only for how much extremely sincere effort I have put into it over the years.

9) have you ever received hate on a fic?

Mild hate, but occasionally. I don’t really tend to remember negative comments, tbh, though it does sometimes make me not want to reread the comment section I know they’re in. But a lot of the hate I’ve gotten in the end just seemed like socially-awkward people being unnecessarily blunt instead of just hitting the back button, so I try not to take it personally. Can’t please everyone. Don’t WANT to please everyone, frankly.

10) Do you write smut? What kind?

Yes, and the kind is “a lot”. Sometimes I don’t really feel like it but definitely I have done a lot of it. I try for Feelings and also to be safe, sane, and consensual as much as I can.

11) have you ever had a fic stolen?

I . . . am not sure? Though probably, after being at this for all this time. Someone once told me that someone picked up a fic I’d (at the time) abandoned and just started writing/posting more of it without asking or telling me about it, but I never actually found said fic and I don’t know if that technically counts as “stealing” anyway.

12) have you ever had a fic translated?

A few times, yup, it’s pretty gratifying! I also like to run them back through Google Translate and see what they say, haha.

13) have you ever co-written a fic before?

yoooo @dancinbutterfly, @rainnecassidy! Also done it with a few other people long, LONG ago, but that was back in the LJ era. Don’t think I’ve technically collabed with anyone else lately, although sometimes people will give me ideas for stuff I’m writing or offer suggestions when I’m stuck on a thing, which is very helpful.

14) what’s your favourite ship?

Like . . . per fandom? ‘Cuz we could be here a while. Most recently it’s Jaskier/Geralt, for a while it was Aziraphale/Crowley, DEFINITELY for a while it was Steve/Bucky . . .

You know, I guess technically my all-time favorite ship is actually Naruto/Sasuke, because I made a LOT of friends in Naruto fandom and it actually hugely influenced the end of my teenage years and beginning of my adult life and so, SO much of my writing. So like, if nothing else it wins on influentialness.

15) what’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

Let ‘Em Come. @rainnecassidy and I wrote that AU a long-ass time ago now and I never did my half of the sequel fic because I got too distracted with another longfic I was working on at the time and then took a real long fandom break. I always felt kind of bad about it because people seemed to bother her for said sequel more than they bothered ME for it, since her fic was the last posted part. Unfortunately I just don’t have the spoons or the MCU-focus for the research and effort it’d take anymore. Also, like . . . it’d probably be pretty long, so unless I was REAL obsessive about it it’d take a good long while.

Basically I think its time has just passed at this point, alas.

16) what are your writing strengths?

Sex, action, snark, and weird fusion fics. Also making people love things they usually hate, that’s one I get told a lot.

17) what are your writing weaknesses?

Fitting physical descriptions of . . . literally ANYTHING into the story. Just, anything. Physical descriptions are hard.

18) what are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in fic?

I try not to do it, personally, because I know soooooo very little about other languages. Sometimes I’ll sprinkle in a little bit of it, but usually I feel like it’s better to avoid it, personally.

19) what was the first fandom you wrote for?

I literally could not even tell you. The first fandom I REMEMBER writing proper “fic” for was . . . Ranma ½, I think. I thiiiiink. But that was a long-ass time ago and I never even posted it anywhere because those were the days when I despised typing things up beyond all measure, hah. And before that I remember writing Animorphs . . . comics? Storyboards? Something like that. Kind of a cross between the two.

20) what’s your favourite fic you’ve ever written?

I do not know! There’s really just too many, tbh. Some top options are you found me when no one else was looking, best friends means you get what you deserve, clay kids, Avamorphs, handmaiden!Anakin, oh don’t you dare look back, just keep your eyes on me, and . . . and I could go on for a dang MINUTE, honestly, haha, I’m just gonna stop myself here before I get too carried away.

.

I tag whoever happens to be reading this that wants to be tagged; have fun with it!

[irwinkitten]

black cat magic | l.h

notes: look i am alive! things have been hellish but i got this out for the writers collab event that @maluminspace and @h0tsos created! since i had to bow out for the last one, i was determined to do this one and had an idea inspired by this comic strip. despite life being particularly shitty, i still enjoyed this idea. also not using my old tag list because effort to find it all and go through, so my apologies. warnings: none? just injured kitty who gets some love. word count: 2k prompt:  Person A finds an injured black cat, and takes it home to take care of it, not knowing the cat is actually a shapeshifter

donate to my ko-fi?  

-

There was a legend from days of old, when warlocks and witches ruled in tandem with the fae and shapeshifters. ‘Should you want to meet your match, then try to befriend, or trap, or catch, the black feline that lives where the grey door is told, to be a secret gateway for jewels and gold. But do not fool the cat with thieves or you shall pay with your misery.’ It was a legend that no one ever learned if it was true, but the house with the grey door was never sold, never had any kind of people live there in the years. 

Many attempted to rob it and those who had tried suffered in life with struggles which left them with nothing but misery. Most ignored the black cat with startling blue eyes as it watched the world go by. But not you.

The first day you greeted it, you were slow, knowing better than to trust any kind of animal that could bite or claw you. 

It purred once your fingers threaded through its fur, content to let you stay there and pet it. 

“Aren’t you a handsome kitty?” You crooned, scratching under the cat’s chin. As it tilted it’s head up, you glanced underneath it to read the tag on it’s collar.

‘Luke’

“Luke, huh? Are your owners in or do you just roam freely?” Not expecting an answer from the cat, you chuckled when he meowed back at you before hopping off the wall and heading to the door.

“See you soon, I’ve got to get back to work.” You weren’t sure why you were reassuring the cat, but you headed back home, with your thoughts drifting to the black cat that had startling blue eyes.

On one of the sunnier days, you chose to bring one of your books with you and you’d found a small hill beside the house that had tall ivy plants hugging the walls. Atop of the hill was a tree that gave you good shade to hide from the heat of the day and as you sat down and studied, it wasn’t much longer until you had a visitor in the form of a black cat.

“Hi there Luke.” You greeted the cat as he came up for fuss. It made you chuckle how he settled himself in your lap, content to sleep whilst you read on, occasionally biting your hand gently when your eyes grew sore.

“You must have a sixth sense or something.” You murmured after tucking the book away, switching to one for pleasure instead. 

This time, he maneuvered himself under your hand so that your fingers were running through his belly fur, purring non stop, making you chuckle.

“Maybe I should bring some toys with me for you to play with. You’re more likely to turn my hand into a scratching post should I pet your belly for too long.” You laughed at your own joke, but he simply meowed in return and stayed sprawled across your lap on his back.

Ignoring all instincts that told you to stop petting him, you carried on, surprised at the lack of teeth or claws, and when you next looked up from your book, you found him fast asleep under your ministrations.

“Weird cat.” Was the soft murmur from you as you carried on reading until it started getting dark and you had to make your way back home.

You found yourself returning until the day you found him on the side of the road, the pitiful whines breaking your heart as you realised he’d been run over.

“Oh my poor boy.” You whispered, carefully scooping him up. He seemed to know you were there to help him, claws digging into your shirt as you cradled him. “Let's get you to the vet and make sure that they can help you. If you’re still fighting to hold on, they’re not gonna give up on you.” 

The journey to the vets was harsh with his painful meows ringing through your soul. But he behaved as the vet helped him, biting the technician only once when they caught him unawares. 

You’d been right in your assumption, however. They weren’t willing to put him down because there was still the chance he would survive. So you made the decision to nurse him back to health.

The first few nights were tiring. They warned you it wasn’t going to be easy, but it was also the most rewarding watching as he snuggled down into the bedding on the first night.

It was weeks of falling in love with the cat, knowing that it wasn’t yours. Despite the owners not seemingly answering, there had been a letter in your post, with money to cover costs and a small thanks of taking care whilst the owner was currently away. 

You had wondered how they’d found out, but in the small town, news travelled fast and more often than not, everyone knew everyone, so someone had to have informed the owner.

When he was allowed to walk again, you found yourself with a small black shadow, almost like he wasn’t willing to leave you alone. And this didn’t bother you, but it didn’t help with the heartbreak that you had, knowing you couldn’t keep the furball of joy that was changing your life.

After six months, he simply vanished one evening and you wondered if he’d made his way back home and part of you felt your chest ache, but you knew you couldn’t keep him. He wasn’t yours and you had to remind yourself that constantly as you carried on about your evening and settled into bed.

That was the first night you’d had a strange dream, a man with golden curls and bright blue eyes sat with you under a familiar tree as he talked about an old tale that you’d heard from your great grandparents when you were a small child.

“The lore is as old as the town itself. I wanted to find someone worthy to share everything with.” That pulled your attention, even in your dream state.

“You wanted to? Then wouldn’t that make you like, well over two centuries old?” He laughed and you wondered if it was real or not because it sounded beautiful.

“Three and a half actually. Time has no essence when you’re immortal though.” His lips were curved up into a smile as he shifted so that his head rested in his lap.

The dream felt familiar as you threaded your fingers through this stranger's golden locks.

“But you look so young...” You trailed off in confusion.

“Benefits. I could choose to grow old, but I want to be with someone who I love. Maybe then I’ll grow old. But I’ve waited for so long now, I shouldn’t be bothered waiting any longer.” 

You hesitated.

“What’s your name?” This made him chuckle as he turned onto his back, his eyes holding yours as your fingers slowly stopped.

“Luke.” And then you noticed the familiarity of his bright blue eyes.

You woke up with a gasp, glancing at the clock as you did so. The numbers read three am, and without even thinking, you wrapped yourself in your jacket, barely remembering to collect your house keys before stumbling along the streets towards the old house that had sat there for centuries.

The lights were on when you reached the home and you felt uneasy for a second before pushing open the gate. Before you could knock on the door, you heard the meow.

“Luke.” Your voice was quiet as you turned, studying the cat who was sitting underneath a window. You watched as he stood on all fours, turning tail to head around the corner of the house, and in the dark, you could see his bright blue eyes shine against the lights of the house and without thinking, you took a step forward, only to be stopped by the door opening.

Your heart left your chest as the very same man from your dream opened the door, a kind smile on his lips as you felt like a deer caught in headlights.

“A spot of tea, perhaps?” His voice was exactly as it had been in your dream, and it had jolted you back into reality as the wind picked up and you shivered. “And maybe an extra blanket?” He sounded amused as he stepped back to let you in, and you felt your skin tingle.

“So you were telling the truth in my dream?” He smiled.

“Lets get your coat off and get some tea for you, love.” You didn’t hesitate to follow, part of your mind concerned, but a larger portion thinking you’d follow him anywhere if he asked.

You both sat in silence whilst he was making the tea and you couldn’t help but stare at him. He was exactly the same in your dream. Part of you wondered if this was real.

“Are you really a cat?” Finally came the question as he set the tea in front  of you and you looked away in embarrassment when he laughed.

“Not the first question I expected, but I expected it.” His answer was encouraging as you glanced at him and watched as his entire body began to shrink and then suddenly Luke, the very black cat that had slept in your bed, sat on the table in front of you.

He shifted back and you felt your body slump as your eyes rolled backwards and he lunged forwards to keep you upright.

When you next woke, the scenery was different. You were in a lounge of sorts, the still hot tea, resting on the coffee table.

“That was a lot of you to take at once, I’ll admit. Are you feeling better now?” Luke crouched in front of you and you didn’t stop yourself as you reached out, your fingers touching his face.

His skin felt real and you watched as his eyes fell shut at your touch, a noise of content escaping him.

“Holy shit this is actually happening.” You finally whispered and he smiled, letting your hand drop from his face. 

That was when you noticed that you had a warm blanket thrown over you and the comfort that it offered was reminiscent of the nights that Luke the cat had spent curled up with you on the harder days.

“It’s a lot to take in, but I’ve got all the time in the world for you.” His smile was reassuring and you took in a deep breath.

“Reckon I can sleep with Luke the human?” You finally asked and he grinned.

“I think I can do that.” 

You could feel the couch shift underneath you and you realised that the back was moving so that it lay flat. Glancing at Luke in surprise, he looked unconcerned as pillows zoomed down the stairs, followed by a heavier quilt and then the couch cushions seemed to meld together and turn soft.

“Magic. Right. I’ll probably have more questions in the morning, but I certainly need more sleep.” You muttered and Luke laughed as he climbed under the covers with you, his arms pulling you against him and suddenly everything felt better, for just a moment.

“Everything that is mine is yours should you so wish it. My things, my home, my heart.” He whispered as you cuddled closer and although it felt like a lot, you also knew in your heart that you weren’t going to let him go.

“I’m happy with just the last one. The rest are bonuses.” You sleepily murmured before succumbing to your dreams once more. 

“And that’s why everything I have will be yours, love.” Luke whispered quietly before he too, followed off in the land of dreams.

When you woke the following morning, you knew in your heart that you weren’t to be parted from Luke. So when one day the house suddenly vanished from sight, those that grew up with the lore, silently toasted to the one who had won the sorcerers heart. 

-

@sexgodashton, @loveroflrh, @maluminspace, @h0tsos, @cashtonsangel, @mermaidcashton, @malumsmermaid, @5-secondsofcolor, @devilatmydoor, @lashtonswildflower, @karajaynetoday, @calpops, @rosecolouredash, @goth5sos, @cakesunflower, @calmlftv, @spicycal, @talkfastromance4, @wildflowergrae, @wildmichaelflower, @pinkbubbles-and-bigtroubles, @superbloomirwin, @superbloomed-c, @ashtonlrwin, @colormekaykay, @thecurlsofgod, @treatallwithkindness, @kiwijulia​

[magic-and-moonlit-wings]

Chapter 50: Insecurity Abounds

Becoming The Mask 

Why wasn't it working?!

Jim ducked the fire jets and somersaulted out of their path.

The Forge floor tilted, sending him sliding back to where he’d started from. He braced his feet against the pop-up turret that spewed fire and launched himself up to grab the next turret, the one that shot darts. He used the higher turret to swing himself back to level ground. Jim blocked the darts that followed him with his sword.

Gunmar’s Eye hadn’t had any noticeable effect on the Amulet yet.

Jim wove through and around the pendulum axes.

When he’d put the Heartstone chip in the Amulet, he’d been able to summon a knife in minutes.

He threw several knives at a target and used his sword to cut another in half.

Of course, he’d been actively hoping for a knife when he’d cleaved that stone, and he didn’t have any solid idea what this new one was supposed to do.

Jim made it to the Soothscryer and inserted his hand.

The Forge’s mechanisms shut down. The past Trollhunters did not draw him into the Void to advise him on how to find out the properties of a newly cleaved stone.

“Okay, let’s break down the possibilities,” Jim said out loud, in case the Ghost Council decided to chime in after all. He paced around the Soothscryer. “It’s supposed to help defeat Gunmar. It’s an eye, so … insight to his strategies? Can I spy on him through it somehow?”

Except, hadn’t Vendel said there was a stone for that already? A glimpse into your enemy’s mind …

Well, a backup would be helpful to have if it turned out they did the same thing.

“Or is it like those old superstitions where you can use a piece of somebody to harm them remotely?”

Some human cultures advised caution in disposing of one’s shed hair and nail clippings for that reason. Jim didn’t know if any other trolls had analogous beliefs, but since stone flesh was literally magical it did come up among Changelings sometimes.

“Or like magnets. Can he not touch me if I armour up with the Eye in the Amulet? Not like I can test that, or like it’ll be any use in letting me kill him.” And the Triumbric Stones were supposed to be key to defeating Gunmar, not having a stalemate with Gunmar.

“Or is the legend just inaccurate?”

Not the most appealing thought, but now that it had occurred to him it would be stressing Jim out. What if they put all that time and energy into tracking down and cleaving the Triumbric Stones and they didn’t even turn out to do anything?

“Any time you guys wanna weigh in on this,” he hinted at the previous Trollhunters.

Jim sat on the Forge floor, leaned back against the Soothscryer, and closed his eyes. The Soothscryer dropped into the floor, sending Jim sprawling back with a yelp.

“… Very funny.”

“Jim?” AAARRRGGHH entered the Forge. His steps were slow at first, and then Jim heard him hurrying across the bridge. “Jim okay?”

“Yeah, just, aggravated.” He knocked on his breastplate beside the Amulet. “Stricklander got Gunmar’s Eye for me, and Vendel taught me how to cleave it, but I – I can’t figure out what it does. I thought it would – would make me stronger, or tougher, or give me a new weapon, but – nothing! I’ve been training for hours and, and I haven’t been able to do anything I couldn’t before, and apparently the Ghost Council wants me to figure this out on my own, so they’re no help.”

“AAARRRGGHH help,” said the bigger troll decisively. He picked up the human-shaped Changeling and plopped him on his shoulders. “Jim tired. Sore. Anger-vated. Hard to think. Need rest.”

And he started carrying Jim out of the Forge.

“… Where are we going?”

“Library. Quiet there.”

AAARRRGGHH was tall, and his fur was thick. Jim was mostly hidden by it. He wasn’t sure anyone noticed him as AAARRRGGHH walked through Trollmarket.

Why was AAARRRGGHH carrying him? Jim had been sure AAARRRGGHH no longer trusted him that much, but here he was, giving Jim easy access to his scruff, his neck, all the vulnerable spots on his back …

Inside the library, AAARRRGGHH did not shrug Jim off. He simply settled into his usual corner – a space relatively clear of shelves, so AAARRRGGHH wouldn’t block access to anything important if he dozed off – and opened one of the larger, less delicate books to where it was bookmarked.

“Rest,” he said. “Talk when ready.”

It was always sort of comical to see AAARRRGGHH reading. Even the tallest and widest volumes, books that the humans had to leave on tables and turn pages of both-handed, looked small in his hands.

Jim climbed further up AAARRRGGHH’s back to read over his shoulder. AAARRRGGHH noticed, and repositioned the book so they could both see it better.

It was one that Blinky had written. Possibly one he’d written for AAARRRGGHH, considering the dimensions. It was about Blinky’s observations of human culture. The current chapter was about different gardens Blinky had seen around human homes, identifying some plants that were beneficial or harmful to trolls, and speculating on the purpose of the others.

They read in silence for a while.

“It’s just,” said Jim, when they reached the end of the chapter, “I can’t afford to mess this up.”

AAARRRGGHH moved the flattened strip of braided leather to its new place and closed the book.

“I can’t take Gunmar in a straight fight, which leaves assassination. So if there’s a specific weapon I need to kill him for real, and nothing else is gonna work, then I have to know how to use it. And I have to get it right the first time, because I probably won’t get a second shot.”

And because, if Jim failed and Gunmar realized a Changeling was behind the assassination attempt, then all the other Changelings still trapped in the Darklands were as good as dead.

“And … and if I can’t unlock the first Triumbric Stone, what does that say about my chances with the other two? And what if I messed up cleaving the Eye, so now I can’t unlock that stone, and Gunmar’s gonna live forever and it’s my fault?”

“He won’t,” said AAARRRGGHH. “Wizards live long, age slow, but can die.”

“… I don’t suppose you know any weaknesses of his?”

“Hm … Not good at trusting, so won’t have guards to sleep.”

“Huh. You know, I honestly never realized he slept? Like, logically he has to, but I’d never thought about it. I’ve only ever seen him on his throne or leading hunting parties. If the stones really do give me a new weapon, that would probably be my best shot at him.” Jim sighed and sagged. “If.”

“Maybe stones only work with all three,” AAARRRGGHH suggested.

“That could be it. I hope so.” Jim drummed his fingers against the Amulet. “I’m going to take the Eye out and train some more without it. Just in case it’s messing with my head. Would you hold onto it for me?”

“I help.” AAARRRGGHH shrugged. Jim nearly fell off his shoulder. “But Eye very small. Might leave with Blinky instead.”

“Where is Blinky, anyway?”

“Doing errands,” said AAARRRGGHH in trollish. “Haggling takes time.”

+=+

Tobias Domzalski, ‘Toby’, age 16, sophomore student at Arcadia Oaks Public High School. Orphaned age two, raised by paternal grandmother Nancy.

Closest friend, boy from across the street, Jim Lake; no close friends besides that, though occasional mentions of friendly acquaintanceship with classmate Eli Pepperjack.

Fond of geology, video games, stage magic. Natural predisposition to showmanship.

Family history of clinical depression. Personal history of emotional eating, being mocked by peers for braces and weight. Probable fear of rejection/abandonment.

Next appointment rescheduled to earlier date for unclarified reasons, severe enough for guardian to call in at 5:30 in the morning but not severe enough for guardian to feel immediate emergency response was needed.

“Good afternoon, Toby. Come on in.”

“Hi, Doctor A.”

He wandered over to the window first. There was a tree between the building and the parking lot. She wasn’t sure which, if either, he looked at.  He sat in the squashy armchair.

Dr Tiffany Archenn had three chairs in her office besides her desk chair, with various degrees of softness. There was a well-stuffed armchair that the sitter noticeably sank into, a stiffer but still upholstered one, and a sturdy wooden armchair that patients with joint problems invariably chose because it was the easiest to get up from.

“Anything in particular you’d like to start with today?” she asked, in her cultivated gentle tone.

“Well, I’ve made some new friends.” He smiled, showing a glint of metal. “Some girls from school decided to start hanging out with me and Jimbo. One of them, Claire, had a crush on him at first, but they kept having lunch with us after he turned her down. They’re a lot of fun.”

Tiffany nodded. After centuries of practice, writing notes was like knitting for her; she no longer needed to look at what she was doing, though sometimes she did anyway if a patient was bothered by prolonged eye contact.

“What sorts of things have you been doing together?”

“Well, lunch, like I said, and Darci and I have been playing Mobile Go-Go Sushi. Sometimes we all go out and explore – uh, the trails around town, or the museum, or, like, little stores we’ve never been in before. And we’ve been … LARPing. That’s ‘live-action role play’.”

She knew that already, but she just nodded.

“It’s a fantasy game. Jim’s the most into it. He was actually doing it solo for a while before we found out, but now we’re all involved.”

‘Before we found out’. Not ‘before he told us’ or ‘invited us’. Now that was interesting.

How was Toby handling his closest friend having done something alone instead of sharing it with him, until Toby and the new additions to their social circle became involved all at once? How was he handling suddenly having to share his friend?

“Are you enjoying this game?” she asked leadingly.

“… Mostly. It can get pretty intense sometimes.”

“How do you mean?”

Toby twisted his hands in his lap. There were some fidgets on the windowsill and the side of the desk her patients sat on, but he didn’t use them often anymore.

“A couple weeks ago, we had a school play,” he said. “Claire and Mary were in it. Claire’s character died. Seeing that was like – like the stakes of, of the game, just got real. I had a nightmare that she died for real. It shook me up a lot. That’s when Nana called you.”

“I can see why that would be distressing.”

Emotional conflation was different from delusion, so this was probably not a sign that Toby was beginning to struggle with telling fiction from reality. Fearing for a friend’s wellbeing in a play or game and having that spill over into genuine concern for that friend’s safety was more likely related to Toby’s fear of abandonment.

She was surprised the fear was centred around one of the new friends rather than around his friend of longest standing, but it sounded like the death scene in the play had been the tipping point.

“Has this changed how you’ve been acting in your game?” Dr Archenn asked. “Or how you’ve interacted with your friends in general?”

“I’ve been more careful. Taken my training more seriously. I switched weapons – picked one I could actually use now instead of just the one I thought was coolest.”

“Has that helped?”

“A little.”

“Would you prefer a different game?”

“I couldn’t!” He shook his head. “Jimbo’s gonna do this with or without us – I can’t just leave him.”

Okay, now Tiffany was wondering if ‘LARPing’ was really a cover for some illegal activity these kids had stumbled into. Stupid Walter, leaving town right before she needed intel on some of his students.

“You don’t feel able to change overall aspects of this … game, only how you play?”

“… Yeah, that pretty much sums it up.”

“And you’re confident that your friends wouldn’t” – or can’t – “drop it to play something else?”

“Jim’s committed.” Tobias’ eyes widened at his own words. “I mean, he’s like, really emotionally invested in this fantasy world, you know? He’d feel really bad about giving it up. I can’t ask him to do that.”

Okay, so clearly Tobias’ friend Jim was the key to all of this. Considering the boys had been each other’s only friend for ten years, it was unlikely Tobias would be easily convinced to let go to save himself. He’d said twice in five minutes that he could not abandon Jim to whatever they were really doing, nor extract Jim from it.

She might be reading too much into this, Tiffany reminded herself. Toby might be being entirely literal, especially since he’d already volunteered so much information with so little prompting.

“Tell me some more about this game you’ve been playing.”

“Uh … well … it kind of started as Jim trying to write a fantasy novel, I think. He’s, like, this destined hero, a magical knight chosen to defeat an evil troll king. The rest of us are, um, fellow questers who’ve joined up with him. He wants to protect us by fighting alone, but …” he trailed off.

But you don’t want to be left behind by being cut out of something your friend is investing time in? Tiffany did not suggest. It would distort the accuracy of her analysis if she put words in her patient’s mouth.

“But none of us want to give it up,” Toby settled on.

He didn’t say more. Maybe the tension between Jim and Toby was because Jim had wanted to write this story alone and resented his friends inserting themselves into the narrative? Tiffany set out another prompt.

“You mentioned you chose a new weapon recently. Do you all have weapons?”

“Yeah. I’ve got a warhammer. I had one to start with, I just, switched to a lighter one. Because, um, my character stats meant I couldn’t lift the first one yet. Jim and Mary both have swords, Claire’s got a spear, Darci has a crossbow.”

“No spellcasters in your party?”

Toby laughed nervously. “Sometimes there’s magic artifacts, but, no, no spellcasters.”

+=+

Claire got her bleach and developer out of the cupboard, adding them to the rest of her materials.

“Whatcha doin’?” Not Enrique asked her.

“Seriously? Do you have no concept of privacy? I’m in the bathroom right now!”

“You didn’t shut the door.” He tapped the join between the hardwood floor he was standing on and the bathroom tiles.

Okay, fair point, not that she’d being saying so to him.

“I’m touching up my roots.”

“I got no idea what that means.” He stood up on his back legs (or just ‘legs’? He went on all fours most of the time, like AAARRRGGHH, but most trolls Claire had seen were bipeds) and squinted past her. “You got a plant in there?”

“No, I mean my hair.” She crouched on the floor and tugged her blue streak. “It’s growing out, so I have to dye the parts that don’t have colour yet.”

Not Enrique just blinked at her. “You … kill your hair to change its colour? But, Ma and Pa take me with ’em to the hairdressers sometimes, and none of the stuff on the floor turns different colours.”

Claire grit her teeth at hearing him refer to her and Enrique’s parents like they were his too.

“It’s not that kind of dye. Dee-why-ee, not dee-eye-ee. It’s like a paint.” She sighed. “Look, I’ll show you.”

She pulled on her rubber gloves and separated her dyed streak from the rest of her hair with foil.

“I’m just bleaching it today. I have to do that a couple of days in a row, because it takes a while to get it light enough for the colour to show up.”

She mixed the bleach with the developer, which helped bleach to penetrate hair, and some red-gold corrector, which made it more effective on dark hair. Claire carefully painted the goop into her hair.

“In about half an hour, I’ll wash this off, and the hair it was in will be lighter brown instead of black.”

“Wild.”

“So, what, did you think some of my hair was just naturally blue?”

“Yeah? I’ve seen lots of humans around with more than one hair colour.”

“… Fair point,” she admitted. Between the people with hair streaks like her, and anyone starting to go grey, and people with fully-dyed hair whose roots were showing, not to mention how technicolour troll hair could be, he’d have no reason to suspect some human hair colours or patterns were unnatural.

Claire folded the foil around her hair and carefully clipped it so it wouldn’t slip off. She wiped out the bowl she’d mixed the bleach in using paper towels and wrapped them in a bag to throw in the trash, rather than dumping bleach down the drain. It wasn’t good for the local water table. Claire took off her gloves and tidied everything else away. She set her phone timer so she wouldn’t damage her hair by leaving the bleach in for too long.

“What was that you were saying earlier?” asked Not Enrique. “Bout the different kinds of die. Dee-why-dee-eye?”

“They’re spelled differently,” said Claire. “So if you see it written down, you can tell which kind somebody means. It’s called a homophone when a word’s like that,” she remembered from an elementary school grammar class on the different kinds of words.

Claire left the bathroom. “Come on.” She went to their – her – mother’s home office, and took a sheet of paper and a pen. She wrote ‘die’ and ‘dye’ on the paper and handed it to Not Enrique, who held the page upside down. “Other way up. See the difference?”

He flipped the page. “Which one’s for hair and which is for killing?”

“D-Y-E is for recolouring stuff. It’s not just hair, you can do with cloth too.”

He pointed at the correct word. “That one’s the Y? Like in the alphabet videos.”

“Yeah. You know what?” Claire decided. “I’m gonna teach you to read. I know, I know, you’re picking it up,” seeing his insulted look, “but you’ll learn faster with a teacher.”

“You just wanna use me to spell-check the trollish homework Blinkous gives you.”

“Like you’d be useful for that when I’m the one teaching you.”

+=+

Previous Chapter (Jim gets and cleaves the Eye of Gunmar)

Table of Contents

Next Chapter (Visiting the Quagawumps to ask for the Killstone)

I learned how to dye hair streaks for this chapter! I’ve been thinking about doing them in my hair for a long time but never bothered because my hair’s really dark brown and all the bleaching sounded like a nuisance. Now that I’ve looked into how it’s done, it still sounds like a nuisance, but I might try it.

Dr Archenn does not suspect Toby knows about real trolls yet, because ‘fighting an evil troll’ is pretty standard fantasy fodder. Even if he’d mentioned Jim being ‘the Trollhunter’, that sounds like a generic term, so she wouldn’t get truly suspicious without further evidence. If he’d mentioned Gunmar by name, on the other hand, that would have been enough for her to call in some favours and put this kid under surveillance.

So, how about Wizards, huh? Deya’s portrayal gave me a bunch of ideas for her portrayal in this fic! Since I am not going with the idea of her being the first Trollhunter, I’ve also developed a whole bunch of backstory that will be revealed later about the Trollhunter job’s origins in this timeline. I’ll be sticking with some plans I already had as to the timing and motives of Morgana inventing Changelings.

[starrybouquet]

The Scorns of Time

The Stargate throws SG-1 into the future.

For Sam/Jack Ship Day 2020. This grew waaay longer than intended, and Jack, Daniel, and Teal'c begged for their own chapters. So this is now a WIP. I'm sorry. XD Hope you enjoy. :)

Read on AO3 or under the cut:

“Daniel. You’re late,” Jack O’Neill said impatiently, tapping his P90 against his thigh as Daniel joined the rest of SG-1 in the ‘Gate room.

“Sorry, guys. I forgot to eat dinner--didn’t realize it was time to gear up yet.” Daniel rubbed his eyes blearily. “Why do we have to ‘Gate out so late, again?”

“Carter?” Jack turned to his left.

“P7X-047 has a thin atmosphere, so it gets cold at night, despite having a temperate climate during the day,” she explained. “But it’s much larger than Earth, so one day there is equivalent to roughly three Earth days. Our mission was scheduled for 2330 in order to maximize daylight. The sun rose on P7X-047 just-”

She was interrupted by the kawoosh of the Stargate. “SG-1, you have a go,” Hammond’s voice boomed through the speaker.

Jack gave a lazy salute and trudged up the ramp beside Teal’c, Carter and Daniel right behind them.

They stepped through the blue puddle into a room. The room had no windows, and was eerily silent, lit only by dim yellow lights. The walls were lined with bronze plaques and display cases, marching down far into the gloom.

"Uh...Carter?" Jack swung his P90 around. “I was promised a sunrise.”

Carter shook her head, alarmed. "This isn't P7X-047, sir."

Jack raised his eyebrow in an unspoken question.

"Sir, I don't know what happened. The dialing sequence was completely normal."

He sighed. Why couldn't they ever do anything the easy way? "Alright. Daniel, dial us back."

"O'Neill," Teal'c said from his left. "There does not appear to be a dial home device in the vicinity."

"Carter!" Jack swung back around to scowl at his 2IC.

She shrugged helplessly. "The MALP showed visual confirmation of a DHD, sir. But this definitely isn't P7X-047."

"Uh, guys?" Daniel said, in the tone that tended to make Jack do a mental count of how much ammo they had. "You might want to see this."

The three other members of SG-1 trooped over to where Daniel was standing, inspecting one of the plaques. He turned, eyes wide and befuddled behind his wire-rimmed glasses, and gestured to the left side of the large plaque.

Jack's hand spasmed on his P90, and beside him he felt Carter tense.

There, mounted on the wall and chiseled out in bronze, was a picture of them.

"Daniel," Jack enunciated carefully. "Why are we here?" He waved his P90 at the display.

"Jack, it's in English!”

Carter peered at the plaque.

"Sir, Daniel's right. And...it's talking about us."

"What?"

"At the inception of Stargate Command in 1997, a flagship exploration team was established under the command of Colonel Jack O'Neill. Known as SG-1, they became Earth's first and most vital line of defense against the Goa'uld," Carter read. Her shocked voice echoed in the silence of the room.

"It's surprisingly detailed and entirely accurate, at least so far," Daniel offered.

Carter looked around the room wildly, and then her worried blue eyes locked onto his own.

"Sir, I think we've traveled to the future."

“The future.”

She nodded. "Just like when we were thrown back to 1969, a solar flare must have occurred at the exact moment we went through the 'Gate. Except this time, it threw us forward in time instead of backwards. Sir, we're still on Earth."

"Then where is everybody?"

"I have no idea. We could be hundreds of years in the future. The SGC could be abandoned." Carter was talking quickly, and he could see the gears spinning in her mind, thinking of all the possibilities.

"So...what do we do?"

"I guess the only thing we can do is read the plaques,” Daniel offered. “This is clearly a museum exhibit of some kind--maybe it'll give us a clue where and how the Stargate can be operated in this time frame."

"Museum time. Great. Thought museums were only for rocks."

"These aren't artifacts, Jack. Well, they are. But to us, they're our life.”

"Hold on, Daniel. I don't know if we want to do that,” Carter said carefully.

"Not seeing any other way to get out of here, Carter,” Jack put in mildly.

"Well, we can't pollute the timeline. What if we learn something about our future that causes us to change it? We should try to make contact with someone, get help."

"Daniel Jackson, O’Neill, Major Carter," Teal’c called from behind them. “There is something of interest here.”

They trooped over to Teal’c, who gestured to an inconspicuous sign mounted on a pole to the side of the ‘Gate.

Daniel inspected the sign. "This is written in Asgard. It says, 'this is a shrine to those who called themselves the Tau'ri. Though the rest of their planet is no longer habitable and the species has ceased to exist as it once was, we have preserved their history as they had recorded it, in hopes that other descendants of the Ancients may come of age and learn their history.'" He turned to the rest of the team. "Earth is abandoned."

Jack sighed. "Guess we're not getting any help. Carter, what if we just...promise not to tell anyone? Pinky swear?"

"I don't see another option, sir," she agreed, moving to the wall and beginning to read.

At first, it was interesting and a little gratifying to read about herself. Sam was honored and amazed that of all the things someone had chosen to memorialize and preserve the history of them--SG-1. She skimmed through the parts she already knew, figuring there wouldn't be much information there. As she approached the part about her future hesitantly, she noticed a section titled Life Outside the SGC. Apprehensively, she began to read.

As was common during the early decades of the SGC, Samantha Carter lived a quiet, solitary life outside Cheyenne Mountain. SGC personnel in general during this time struggled to maintain personal relationships when their life’s work was top-secret yet all-encompassing.

They got that right. Sam stole a glance at the profile of her CO, studying his own display, before continuing her reading.

Though the reveal of the Stargate program to the general public removed these barriers for most SGC personnel, Carter’s meager off-base presence would stay the same for the rest of her life. Due to her overnight fame as one of the most prominent faces of the SGC, she retreated even further from Earthside life after the program went public. Carter never married and kept a tight lid on her friendships, even with the other former members of SG-1.

After retirement, Carter became increasingly reflective on her life outside the SGC. Indeed, a retired Maj. Gen. Carter, in one of her last public interviews, lamented, "I was so focused on the stars that I refused to see what was right in front of me here on Earth, even when I needed it most." Much speculation has resulted from this cryptic comment, and the many similar ones that appeared regularly in the last years of her life.

Since her death, General Carter has become one of the most-studied heroes of all time. Military strategists are fascinated by her tactics, scientists by her numerous scientific achievements far ahead of her time, and historians by the duality of the various facets of Carter’s personality, and the psychological effects of being, effectively, a living legend at a scale previously confined to superhero comics.

Well, that was cheery. She repressed a shudder at the wrongness of the entire situation and headed for the next display.

After an hour of perusing the displays, they hadn’t found anything that gave any indication of how the Stargate could be dialed out. A quick exploration of the rest of the base revealed that all the rooms were either empty or stuffed with boxes, and the dialing computer was gone. Since they'd 'gated out so late, the Colonel announced that they'd all get some sleep and continue their search for a way to dial out in the morning. Finding two VIP quarters complete with beds and sheets in a display on "diplomacy at the SGC", they crashed the display and bunked down for the night. Daniel and Teal'c shared a room in order to spare the others from Daniel's snoring (it never bothered Teal'c’s kelnoreem), leaving Jack and Sam to share the other.

Sam tossed and turned for well over an hour before giving up on sleep. She sat up quietly, trying not to disturb the sleeping Colonel on the other side of the room, and made her way to the conference room. Usually, she’d have gone to her lab to think, but she’d found that her lab had apparently been demolished at some point, as all that stood in the space now was a conference room.

Which was why she was here, arms crossed, looking out of the viewing window blindly. That sentence she’d read kept echoing through her head, in an approximation of her mother's voice. I was so focused on the stars that I refused to see what was right in front of me here on Earth, even when I needed it most.

She'd never minded being a workaholic. Especially not since she'd begun working on the Stargate project. It was everything she’d ever dreamed of as a child looking up at the stars, better than being simply an astrophysicist and better than being an astronaut. And though she sometimes wanted someone to come home to, to share her bed at night and her shower in the morning (and here she tried very hard not to identify that “someone” in her head), she didn't think that was the be-all end-all of her life. She had the best friends anyone could ask for, she loved her job--all of it. And at the end of the day, there was no way anything could ever matter more than saving the world. She knew that.

Still...she couldn’t stop thinking about it. Even when I needed it most.

She heard footsteps, and saw the Colonel in the reflection of the glass.

“Carter?” He stepped further into the room.

“Sir,” she said, not turning away from the window. He came to stand beside her, hands shoved in pockets.

“Whatcha doin’?”

She sighed. “Just thinking about what I read today. It’s not every day you get to read a biography written years after your death.”

“Ah. Don’t think too much about it, Carter. All that time stuff--it can change, right? This is just one possible future, or whatever.”

Sam smiled a little. She doubted he realizes how much he revealed with that little piece of advice. He may not have been an astrophysicist, but Jack O’Neill was whip-smart, even if he did his best to hide it. “You’re right, sir. I guess it’s just hard not to think about it.”

They stood there for a while, just looking down at the ‘Gate. From this distance, the dim lighting and the clutter of museum displays around the room made the ‘Gate look more like the centerpiece of the dusty basement of an antique collector rather than an otherworldly piece of alien technology. The Colonel flicked at the dust particles gathered on the windowsill, letting her have her space.

“My life--it wasn’t a happy one,” she said eventually. “The plaques talk a lot about professional success. But in all the interviews, all the artifacts, I was bitter and cold. I said I regretted a lot of things.”

She turned anguished eyes onto him. “Am I really that selfish? They called me a superhero, said I saved the world. And I sat there, in those interviews--”

Her eyes moved back to the ‘Gate, and she felt her cheeks heat with shame, because he was her commanding officer and even worse, one of the people whose opinion she cared about most in all the world, but she couldn’t stop the words pouring out of her mouth.

“And the worst part of it? I agree with her, the Sam in the pictures. I agree. I looked at all those medals on my dress blues, and I read those interviews, and I agreed with her--me. This isn’t some alternate reality, it’s my future, and I don’t want to be some lonely husk of myself, just General Carter, no Sam. But I know it will happen, because it has happened. The case below the plaque about my life after my retirement--that’s all it has. A set of dress blues.”

She blinked back tears.

And then the Colonel--Jack--shifted towards her, as if he couldn’t help himself, and wrapped his arms carefully around her. She buried her head in his shoulder and relaxed into his embrace.

“It’s not a crime to want to be happy, Carter,” he said softly.

She stood in his arms like that for a while, much longer than she ever had before, and he seemed content to hold her, just letting her breathe.

Eventually, Sam felt tiredness settling into her bones. Her breath hitched, and she stifled a yawn.

"Think you can sleep now?" the Colonel asked, surprisingly relaxed given their position.

"I'm not sure."

"C'mon." He let his arms fall away, placed a hand at the small of her back, and steered her out of the conference room and back to their quarters.

He nudged her back toward her bed, pulled back the sheet, and nodded. "Go on, get in."

She tugged off her jacket and slid between the sheets, and he pulled them up and tucked her in carefully. Sam looked quizzically up at him, ready to apologize for falling apart, but there was nothing but care in his brown eyes. No discomfort, nothing.

Well, maybe something a little more intense than care that she couldn't name.

Sam thought he was heading back to bed himself. Which was why she was shocked when he circled to the other side of her bed instead, and lay down on his side facing her.

She rolled on her side as well, and their eyes locked.

"You won't end up alone, Carter," he whispered, never breaking eye contact. "I promise."

And his gaze was so intense, brown eyes fastened on her so completely, that she believed him.

"C'mere," Jack said in that same low tone, and pulled her toward him. He turned onto his back and settled her head into his shoulder, one arm securely around her waist, hand splayed against her back.

Sam didn't protest, didn't say anything, just turned her nose into the cotton of his black t-shirt and snuggled closer, sneaking a leg across one of his.

And in that moment, it didn't matter when they were, whether they were stuck centuries in the future. Her best friends in all the world were right down the hall, and she was in bed, in Jack's arms. And that was more than enough.

[bat-lings]

would you have any tips on how to write the batfamily members accurately / in-character? im a roleplayer & i plan on rping as some of the characters but im afraid that i'll make them ooc since a lot of dc's storylines are v confusing & inconsistent so i wouldn't know what's accurate / what isn't. ) :

The nature of comic canon means that this is a common worry. My first advice: don’t stress too much about it. A lot of writers in the fandom don’t actually read comics, or only read those about their one favorite character. I even saw a successful batfam writer say loud and clear that they don’t like comics once, and tbh? You’re here to have fun, if reading the canon material feels like homework, why would you bother?

Now if your fun implies you writing canon-complying characters, my second advice... don’t stress too much about it. There isn’t one and only "accurate" or "in-character" portrayal with comic book characters. Comic canon is a loooong succession of various continuities, writers, intents, retcons, and interpretations. Even if you could read every comic DC has ever published (good luck with that lol), you’re gonna have to pick and choose your canon at some point because it’s impossible to make everything match semi-coherently. Every time I say "this is ooc", I mean "this is ooc to me based on my personal understanding of X character". And I’ve enjoyed some of these "ooc" writings a lot in some fanfics, cause the story was well written and the author’s portrayal made sense within their story’s context— at the end of the day, that’s all that matters.

Now that that’s out of the way, if you want to write canon-complying-ish characters, the first thing I’d watch out for are "fanon legends". Aka ideas that circulate commonly in fanon but have few or no canon basis, or are built on shortcuts of the canon materials. I have a fanon vs canon post that mention a few of those, but I’m not the only blog that did one— have another by @theflyingwonder for instance.

Generally speaking, watch out for anything that summarizes/flatten any character to a couple of simple traits— this is what can actually bring your writing down, more than whether your characterization is based off canon or fanon.

I was also asked for tips to write Tim; the answer was pretty rushed (like this answer here oops) but hopefully it can point you in a direction you like.

Theflyingwonder also did a post on how they write Dick during dialogues, they know the character pretty damn well and their writing feels close to the canon Dick, so it’s something by which I’d stand. I sense the direct inspiration from his speech pattern in the comics— even if you don’t want to spend months reading comics before you write fancontent, that’s something that can help you: hunt for specific canon sequences close to the one you’re writing, and note how the characters are acting/speaking. I can help if you’re having trouble finding sais scenes.

For instance if you’re writing a Tim&Dick bro moment, there are a lot of scenes between them in the batbooks you can take inspiration from. I’d say most Barbara&Dick interactions are characterized by their near-constant banter. For Cassandra’s speech pattern, you really want to know at which point of her "recovery" she’s at and glance at how she speaks (or doesn’t) in her solo. Small stuff like that can flesh out your writing and give it a "canon-ish" feel, without having to read hundreds of issues.

I hope it’s okay that I don’t have more specific writing tips for now. It’s been a long-ass while since I’ve actually written for the batfam, and again how each fan is going to write them "accurately" depends on their own chosen bits of canon. I could point out what feels right or what doesn’t, or what canon occurence is or isn’t a good illustration of X central character trait imo, if you have a specific character in mind (whole batfam posts can take months to write sorry). Best would be to compare that with other people’s opinions, and bestest to try and see if you enjoy comics enough to read a few and make your own opinion of it.

Please don’t be afraid of going into rp. You’re allowed to have fun in here without the fandom police dictating how you do so, and you don’t owe overaggressive canon-lovers anything. If someone spots ooc-ness in your writing, hear them out as long as they’re cool about it; if they’re rude they need to stop engaging with what they don’t like and let you have your fun. I wish you a very happy time in that fandom, Anon!

[lady-griffin]

Avatar both Korra and Aang legends?

001 | Send me a fandom and I will tell you my -- 

Avatar: The Last Airbender

Favorite character: Aang, Katara, Toph, or Zuko (I can’t decide)

Least Favorite character: Pakku (his sexism was only really “solved” by Katarina being the granddaughter of the women he was once betrothed too – it felt forced and weak. I also didn’t like him letting Katara call him grandfather (or a version of that), but not Sokka. 

5 Favorite ships (canon or non-canon): Zutara, Kataang, Zuko x Mai, Sokka x Suki, Mai x Ty Lee

Character I find most attractive: Katara, also definitely June

Character I would marry: Sokka or Suki

Character I would be best friends with: Katara or Suki

a random thought: Are the combo animals their own unique species or are the animals in the Avatar world able to reproduce with different animals and just over time, those half babies were able reproduce as well, and thus becoming their own species. 

That would explain the existence of both Solo Animals and Combo Animals. Example: Bears (Solo), Armadillo Bears and Platypus Bears (Combo) 

If that’s the case does that mean, the interspecies mixing happened millions and millions maybe a billion years ago, if so, is that why solo animals (cats, bears) are so rare while combo animals are the majority? 

Solo animals are super rare, which makes me think Bosco was like a super expensive/valuable gift to the King - showing his status as King. 

Turtle Ducks are the greatest thing ever.

An unpopular opinion: I never really thought “The Great Divide” was as awful as people make it out to be. It’s certainly not my favorite, but I was surprised when I learned how much people truly hated it.

My Canon OTP: Kataang

My Non-canon OTP: Zutara

Most Badass Character: Azula, also Kyoshi 

Most Epic Villain: Azula and Ozai

Pairing I am not a fan of: Azula x Ty Lee (I don’t hate it, but given how toxic their relationship was, I can’t say I’m a big fan)

Character I feel the writers screwed up (in one way or another): 

Not a character, but I thought that having Fire Lord Sozin banned homosexuality (in the comics) felt very weird to me and not in line with the Fire Nation. Out of the three remaining nations, the Fire Nations seemed the most “progressive” in terms of equality for women or more accurately for the goal of world domination they were willing to used everything and everyone they had.

It’s also interesting see how each nation and their relative status in terms of morality and their relation to female warriors/fighters/ 

The Fire Nation (Bad) has the most female fighters. We see actual women in the army, female prison guards, as well as the most individual named fighters/characters – Azula, Ty Lee, Mai, June, Lo and Li. Azula’s teachers must have been on an entirely different level than everyone else, as neither one was a fire-bender, but yet they were charged with being Azula’s mentors and teachers in regards to fighting and fire bending.

The Northern and Southern Tribes (Good) have pretty sexist views. Sokka is pretty sexist in the beginning (he had to learn that from somewhere), in Katara’s introduction all the men left (not all that were capable) and Sokka felt as the only teenaged male it was his duty to be in charge/protect everyone.

We literally have episodes that explored the sexism of The Northern Tribe and it literally takes Katara throwing down with an old man from them to start to change. And to my knowledge, there are only two named female water benders – Katara and Hama, maybe the healer in the northern tribe had a name(?), but the fact that I would have to look up her name, if she has one (proves my point). Her name is Yugoda. We don’t have any non-bender female fighters for the Water Tribes. 

The Earth Kingdom (Neutral) has Suki, Avatar Kyoshi and the Kyoshi warriors (unnamed), June, and the girl from Jet’s gang, but the only living female earth bender we ever see is Toph, aside from her we only ever see male earth benders.

The Air Nomads (Strive For/Good) seem to treat everyone as equals, but women and men lived and were raised separately.

So, it just felt lazy to say oh the fire nation is ruled by an oppressive regime and the regime is bad and banning/outlawing same-sex couple is also bad – so there.

When I think you could’ve had a very interesting story, when the Water Tribes who we’ve seen have the most backwards views on women, being the nation to ban same-sex marriages/relationships.

Avatar was very good on the whole – “It’s not that simple” and “Oh god, it’s so much more complicated -  so, I think it would’ve been a very interesting storyline to have The Water Nations have been the ones to ban same-sex relations, while maybe the Fire Nation maybe took after some ancient (Greece/Roman societies) where some thought a soldier would fight harder if they were fighting and protecting their lover/love.

Also, maybe in the recovery period. The Fire Nation wants to have same-sex be legal, but as they were were literally trying to take over the world and systematically tried to destroy other nations and colonize,  the Water Tribes don’t want their traditions and customs being dictated by those of the Fire Nation. I don’t know, that could’ve been very complicated and nuance story. 

It just seemed lazy to me and sort of ignoring what they’ve already set up in their canon universe, on purpose or not. 

 Favorite Friendship: Momo and Appa, Aang and Sokka, Aang and Zuko, Aang and Toph… Aang with anyone really

Character I most identify with: I don’t think I really identify with anyone, but when it came out, definitely Mai.

Character I wish I could be: Mai or Ty Lee

Avatar: The Legend of Korra

Favorite character: Korra 

Least Favorite character: Varrick, Unalaq (weak villain), Mako (at times)

5 Favorite ships (canon or non-canon): Korrasami, Bolin x Opal, Korralin, Kai x Jinora, Makorralin (…I’ve read a lot good smut of these guys, so yeah...)

Character I find most attractive: Asami

Character I would marry: Asami

Character I would be best friends with: Jinora

a random thought: Why did they have Korra sleeping on her bed with shoes on in season one… that will forever bother me.

An unpopular opinion: I’m have no idea if this is unpopular, but I think Bumi getting air-bending was such a copout. There was something very interesting about the child of two of the most powerful benders (literally his dad is the avatar and his mother was the avatar’s water bender teacher) being a non-bender and that really could’ve been explored. It felt “cheap” to give him air-bending…I was never a fan of that

Also, it bothered me that the Tenzin, Kya, and Bumi all had skin tones that matched perfectly with their respected powers/lack of powers and also they all dress with that same mind set. As one of the first mixed families we really get to see, It would’ve been nice, if their styles of clothing were different or combos of Air Nomad, Water Nation and Earth Kingdom (given where they lived). 

Having only Tenzin be the only we see dress as an Air Nomad and later Bumi (when he gets air-bending) definitely gives credence to the idea that Bumi definitely had a reason for thinking he didn’t truly belong in the Air Nation.

I think Legend of Korra loss a good opportunity of introducing the first mixed families/kids, but still had them dress in regards to their respected element 

It felt weird that Bolin and Mako, dressed with their specific element color. 

Especially since Republic City was this huge diverse city, with influences and people from across the four nations. 

My Canon OTP: Korrasami

My Non-canon OTP: Korralin/Gender-Reverse Korralin

Most Badass Character: Korra

Most Epic Villain: The Red Lotus

Pairing I am not a fan of: Makorra, I was a huge fan of them when it started, but honestly as the show continued and looking back at it, their chemistry was off after the second episode. They had such a great set-up with the gazing end and music, but after that it was downhill.

Character I feel the writers screwed up (in one way or another): Not so much a character, but Aang and Katara and their relationship with their children never felt right to me. 

In general, though, I think the creators struggled in finding the right groove for many of the characters if not all of them, at one point or another. 

Favorite Friendship: Korra and Asami, Korra and the Airbending Kids

Character I most identify with: Jinora and Ikki

Character I wish I could be: Asami

[minsyal]

[Mutual Feelings Pt. 13, Revali x Reader]

Author’s Note: I ain’t sorry. 

Summary: Who knows? We can only go up from here, right?

“No.” You called out to whoever was knocking. The knocking persisted despite you barricading the door with stacks of books and unused chairs that had been left in the hall days prior. Ink dribbled across your desk, large blobs of black liquid obscured your old workpapers that were now crumbled and torn. They didn’t matter anymore.

The old book given to you laid open on the board in front of you. Its pages were tattered and picked at, ripping slightly at every seam and corner. It had to be in here somewhere. Keumi had passed a few weeks ago and you hadn’t bothered to return to the Village as facing Seoi was something you had no desire to do. The least you could do for her was stay away. Afterall, that is what she wanted.

“Open up!” It was a male’s voice, Revali. He had been visiting often after the incident. The majority of the time, he was already on the grounds for Champion-related events and had found your room at the direction of a few gossiping maids. The talk had taken an upward spike in the castle after your return. Very few would stop you, but those that would always asked about your relations to Revali. It wasn’t any of their business. Plus, nothing was official. Nothing was going on.

“No.” You repeated with the same monotone sound.

“Then I’ll break the door down.” The door began shaking, almost comically. The hinges creaked and squeaked as the handle juggled this way and that as the assailant attempted to grant himself entrance. The nob turned and stopped, then turned the other direction. “Excuse me?” He must be speaking to someone outside. His voice became muffled as you assumed he walked away, possibly giving up. You should have known him better than that by now.

You traced the map in front of you, a small line linking your route in the desert to the other locations of materials you gathered for the elixir. Everything had been done exactly to the “t” as per the book’s instructions. How could it have gone so horribly wrong? You had been trying to contact this supposed “medicine man,” but each and every Zora you spoke to couldn’t identify where he resided nor where he was currently. The bowl the elixir had been made in was encased in glass in the corner of your room. The cage you used in the desert was next to it. Maybe you had miscalculated something there? Perhaps the material used to encase the flower was incorrect… or maybe there wasn’t enough water flow.

Shaking your leg at a swift pace, you studied the excess materials. The minerals were all fine, they were typical ones used in medicine. The greenery was fresh when used, now dried and pinned to the wall. You groaned, squeezing your eyes shut to ward off the third headache of the day. It wasn’t even lunch yet, just past breakfast in fact.

“I hope you don’t me letting myself in.” Revali stepped through your window, a gust of wind swirling the loose papers around the room.

“Revali!” You rose to your feet, jumping to grasp every paper. He paid no mind, trotting over to the unmade bed where he sat down and crossed one leg over the other. His eyes scanned the room, he had never been in here before. Your desk was a mess, stacked high with new books and papers while older ones were stacked in front of the door. The bed he was sat on was inlaid into the wall, a few trinkets were posted and sat on shelves. He noticed the drawing of him you had done around the time the two of you first met, the extensive studies on the Divine Beasts, and the group photo you had been left out of at the time.

“Good to see you too.” He chuckled, making himself comfortable. “When did you last sleep?”

Too homed in on your work, you brushed him off.

“When did you last eat?” Persisting, he kicked one leg over the other and continued ruffling up your blankets. “When are you going to answer your lover?”

Eyes wide, you shot him a confused look only to get a proud one in return. He gave you a tight-lipped grin, closing his eyes. “We aren’t together.”

“The castle gossip travels fast. According to everyone out there, we are.”

“Well, we aren’t.” You turned back around and focused on a small passage hand-written in the book.

“Whatever you say, but that’s not my opinion on it.” He hummed. “Clear this out from your door while I’m away. I’ll be back.” He motioned to the junk near the door. Kicking some stuff from his path, he pried the door open and left.

While there is currently no evidence of the ability for revival from death, it has been recorded in legend regarding the Goddess Hylia and the Hero. Given this knowledge, there is chance that this phenomena is existent in Hyrule. Mouthing the words as you read, you groaned. There was nothing telling  you what to do. You had been attempting to find a way to bring her back since you got back to the castle after her death. Nothing was turning up.

The attacks on travelers and villages rose as the Calamity’s power grew. Red ash would rise from the ground some nights, the clouds would rush as if in a hurricane, and low growls could be heard echoing from the castle’s depths. The moon would turn blood red on nights like these. Nobody would go out.

Another ceremony was scheduled for tonight, but you had no intent of attending. The King had never required you be present for any of them, only present when he needed updated information on how the scientist’s research was coming. You hadn’t heard from Purah or Robbie in a few weeks. It was hard to when they didn’t live on castle grounds.

The book turned up no trails to follow, no leads to take. Tossing it aside, you scrapped everything on your desk relating to Keumi. It was over. She wasn’t coming back. Throwing your window open, you let the cool air flow in and swirl around the cramped room. Laughter resonated from the upper levels; the stomping of feet signaled they had just begun their celebrations. The rich aromas of mouth-watering dishes were swept through the air, a sweet smell blanketing the area.

With a renewed sense of direction, you grabbed everything you had relating to your updates on the Divine Beasts. Opening the book you kept on Medoh, you began writing. In the margin, you wrote: Resurrection = possibility?

Revali wandered the halls as he attempted to recall his way to your room through the maze of sprawling entryways. He passed kitchen staff carrying platters of steaming-hot foods. Snatching a plate from one of them, he continued on his way. Finally arriving at his destination, he tried the door. To his surprise, it gave way with ease.

“Still buried in work, I see.” He looked more put together than he typically did. A new garb was wrapped around his figure, dawning the blue color of royalty and the crest. His old one was hidden beneath it. It was far gaudier than his original. Gold speckled the trim, thin silver chains were attached to shoulder pieces, and his braids were done differently.

“Here.” The plate clacked against the wood of your desk. “Now, I need to get this off. It’s rather…” he racked his head for the words he wanted, “not me.”

Metal clinks rained down upon the room as his shoulder pieces and the new garb landed in a pile along with your discarded work. A plate clanked against your desk, its smell alluring. Tearing your focus from your papers, you eyed the plate. It was steaming. A perfectly grilled pork steak sat on wild greens with a side of rice from Hateno. The smaller plate held a slice of decadently rich chocolate cake that looked to have been prepared just minutes ago. Caramelized sugar dripped over the sides, gliding down to the chocolate shell below.

“Would you mind undoing these?” His braids whipped around in your face as he turned his back to you. “I would, but I don’t want to.” He continued speaking as you moved to detangle the intricate designs. “You know, the ceremony was as dull as ever. I had searched the crowd for you, but I suppose expecting you to breach these walls was rather idiotic of me.” He tossed his head to the side, eyeing you. “Have you had enough tea lately? Have your teeth gone yellow yet?” When you didn’t respond, he continued on. “I do really think you need to rest more. Your lack of sleep is troublesome.”

“I’m fine.” You finished the last braid, leaving the ribbon strewn into it on the floor.

“You’re not. You need sleep…” he pondered for a moment, taking a deep breath before stating, “Keumi would want that.”

The beating of your heart thrummed in your chest loudly. Your breathing stopped, catching in your throat, suffocating you. A cold sweat broke out upon your brow and at the nape of your neck. Your determination turned to anger as you pushed yourself up to your desk, turning your back on Revali. “Don’t talk about her.”

“It’s what she would have wanted, and you know that.” He approached the back of your chair, the heat radiating from his body only adding to how uncomfortable you had become. Your leg bounced up and down as you attempted to work out the tension that grew within you. It felt as if vines were climbing up your spine.

“Revali, stop.”

“No.” A firm grip held your shoulder as he attempted to tug you around to face him. “Face me and listen. She didn’t die so you could sulk around here all day.”

You had enough. Pushing up from your chair, you disregarded it as it went tumbling to the floor. “Shut up!” More than anything you wanted to slap him. You wanted him to go away and never come back. Why was he here anyway? What did he really care?

“You need to listen to me. Quit acting like a child. That will get you nowhere.”

“She wouldn’t have died if I hadn’t tried something so risky!” You jerked your shoulder away from his grasp and immediately began gathering a few notebooks in your arms.

“You did what you had to!” He said firmly, stepping to block your exit.

“I did something stupid and I ruined a family.” You choked back the tears that were brimming your eyes. “They’ll never get that back, Revali. It’s all my fault.” You had grown considerably quiet, almost whispering.

“It’s not.” His tone had weakened a bit, his stance was softer. “Come here.”

Crashing into his arms was more comforting than you had expected. He rubbed circles into your back as he walked the two of you over to the bed. “We’re going to fix this.”

“How?” Your words were muffled by his thick coat.

___________________________________________________________ 

“Excuse me?” An unfamiliar voice called as the door creaked open. Revali’s head rose from his spot on the bed.

“Yes?” He called back, keeping his tone hushed. A gentle wing covered your head, stroking your hair down. The motion coaxed soft snores from you and put a loving smile on his face.

“The King requests your presence in the dining hall, sir.”

“Give the King my deepest apologies, but I have to decline.” A moment passed as the guard pondered what to do. He was taken aback by Revali’s answer, expecting him to join him in an instant.

“Of course.”

The door closed as a hushed silence fell upon the room once more. It had grown dark in the castle, the only light in your room came from the candles that threatened to extinguish themselves in the melted wax below. The papers remained scattered across the floor along with the chair that was still overturned. The meal he had brought had grown cold, hardening with each passing hour. But none of that mattered.

What mattered was what lay softly upon his chest, breathing deeply as exhaustion finally gave in. What mattered was the little moments that prospered from your twisted and tangled history. What mattered was the way Revali’s chest swelled when he thought of you and how his heart grew as he finally admit something to himself. It was true.

[flydotnet]

Shuichi Saihara and the Mystery of the Neverending Melody

Summary: Ever since he was a child, Shuichi has heard the same melody, an experience he didn't share with anybody. This is the story of how and when he found out why it was. 

Fandom: Danganronpa V3 (AU) Ship: Saimatsu/Saiede/Saiaka/y’know the drill

Wordcount: 3.2K words

Notes: Once upon a time not too along ago, in a place not so far away... My giftee was (unknown to me, due to the rules of the exchange) @xoxorandomfangirl! Glad we could rejoice in some good ol’ Saimatsus. This is... a weird trip. It's a soulmate AU with a twist! God, the plot barely makes sense in this story, it's a disaster and a half haha. I hope both aren't too out of character, that'd be super embarrassing, especially with some of my ~veteran experience~. Anyway! As I expected, I had... more or less zero idea who this would be for, so I went wild and, as a result, this story is... weird and I guess kind of impersonal? I still hope you like it pal! 

Written for the @saimatsugiftexchange

AO3 version available here.

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It first began when he was a little boy. After his parents (or, rather, their butler or maid) would have left his room, Shuichi would hear the serene notes of a piano in his now quiet room. He used to believe it was someone playing said instrument in a nearby room: after all, his mother owned a piano, a family heritage he had been told by the family’s most loyal butler, she could have very well been playing it, or asked someone else to do so for her husband or herself. Truth be told, Shuichi didn’t know much about his own house.

He never mentioned to his parents, or anyone for that matter. He was afraid of not getting believed. He had read somewhere before that, sometimes, you were just cursed to hear the same music over and over again for the remainder of your life until you’d find the one true way to break the curse and liberate your soul from going insane from the repetitiveness of it all and the loneliness it’d bring upon you. Again, Shuichi was but a little boy, and he was afraid of the curse too, more than he had ever been about the darkness of the night. Maybe that, if he ignored the song, it’d just go away… He figured he had grown out of believing such mythos, like the existence of the tooth fairy, of the soulmates his parents claimed to be in front of the cameras, and the curse of some piano music stalking him.

 He wasn’t weirded out by the myths, despite how much he’d hear about them and the number of stories he’d end up collecting in his mind with time. When he was a child, his parents would buy him a lot of story-focused books with urban legends like these plastered all over the pages. He’d watch, like every kid his age, series and movies about sirens, fairies, werewolves, vampires, soulmates with specific birthmarks, mermaids and haunting music. They usually ended well, turning darker as he got older and got to watch more grotesque content. The happy siren marrying the sailor she had first enchanted had become a tragic, death-riddled version of itself.

Shuichi didn’t believe a lot of them, despite hearing the music. Someone at school once told him it was someone searching after him and, when they’d get close to him, he’d hear the music. While she thought it was his Princess Charming searching for her beloved, he only found it creepy to think about: it was essentially being followed around your entire life until someone, possibly with malicious intent, would find you. How was that supposed to be reassuring?

 Speaking of the never-ending song, it got eerie when he’d start hearing it again when he was a teen. He had moved places entirely: to keep up with the demand for their services, his parents were mostly overseas, or at least far from home, and he had since moved in with his uncle Shinichi and the latter’s wife. Neither of them owned a piano, there was no such instrument in their house. If he let his soul get too carried away in its first instincts, he could almost feel the crescent-shaped mark on his chest itch.

Still, there was a rational explanation to that mysterious phenomenon, as there’s always been to various other enigmatic occurrences. When he absentmindedly mentioned this fact to his uncle and aunt, Auntie Ran mentioned that their neighbours had a son around Shuichi’s age who played the piano. It may have been this guy all along, so he shook the idea of being haunted or cursed away. There was always rationality to everything in life. There wasn’t anything to worry about…

 …that was, until he’d start hearing the melody where there was no piano nor the possibility of someone playing it, and especially in times where he shouldn’t have heard it.

He figured he’d just play it in his mind to soothe his own soul when finding himself in dire situations. When he was very sick and seeing things that weren’t, when he was about to fall, only for something to retain his body before it’d break itself, when the car he was in almost got hit by another. The serene melody would always play, albeit quicker than before, and he’d feel better or get out of the situation safe and sound. It must have only been him but, deep down, a part of his sceptic mind was thankful for it…

 A part of his brain couldn’t compute anymore when, on an urbex trip with his best friend, the serene music reached his ears. Around them, nothing but the rests of life that once was: they were in the middle of an abandoned hospital, torchlights in their bags, a camera in his hands. Kaito noticed something was bothering him, so he immediately popped the question to the latter, making Shuichi feel his cheeks burn with embarrassment. With how rational Kaito was despite his silly appearance, he’d surely never believe him. Still, he owed his friend the truth, so he went for it anyway. While Kaito didn’t outright laugh at his face, his eyebrows still twitched in disbelief. He then proposed the idea that there could have been a piano in the premise, just well hidden and, while that wouldn’t make too much sense, nothing was impossible in urbex. Someone could have brought their instrument with them, or put in a wireless speaker to play with the visitors. It wouldn’t have been his first time seeing that happen, at least.

In the end, there was no piano in the old hospital, nobody else but them, and they found no speaker, even with Kaito’s best efforts. They both decided to believe they just hadn’t seen it. It could have been hidden in some rubble, after all, leaving shortly thereafter.

Little did they know that, by trying to follow the music, they had avoided an unfortunate encounter with a murderer hiding behind the rubble of what had once been.

 Still, the phenomenon kept on. It didn’t scare him in the slightest when he was staying over at his uncle’s, finding himself get soothed by the serene notes played by his neighbour. It didn’t scare him when he was sleeping over at Kaito’s grandparents’ place. In fact, he wasn’t scared of it whenever he was with someone else, because, even if they didn’t know what he was talking about and didn’t hear the music, they helped him rationalize it. He must have had a sensible hearing, like his mother apparently was. She’d sing for her own scenes; he must have inherited something from her except for his long eyelashes and slender figure.

The melody would actually change every time he heard it. It’d be subtle differences he’d notice more and more: an octave higher, an octave lower. It must have been him, but it’d differ depending on his mood. If he was sad, he’d hear solemn, yet optimistic notes. If he was trying to focus, it’d subdue and become background noise. If he was happy, it’d hear triumphant sounds. If he was embarrassed, the air would be comical and he’d feel easier, encouraged to take it easy. Hiding in some bathroom stall had never felt this comfortable.

 Now, the issue rose its head when he also realized he was always the only one to hear it in the unlikeliest place. The moment he realized that fact turned his entire life upside down: he was all alone in one of his family’s secondary residences, enjoying some time separated from the rest of the world during the holidays, without a butler nor a maid. Just him, all on his own, with the sound of his footsteps echoing through the empty corridors. For how weird it seemed to literally anyone around him, Shuichi took great pleasure in some voluntary solitude. Someone like him just needed moments where he could cool down from how heavy socialization could get.

Alas, he wasn’t all alone in this villa: the piano was playing. Haunted and anxious at the idea that a burglar could have step foot there, Shuichi braced himself and started making his way to the music room of the house, just to make sure it was just all in his mind again. He let himself get guided by the notes: the louder the calm symphony was, the closer he felt to the source. For a burglar, they sure were a gentleman to only play the piano instead of robbing the place out of its fairly pricey electronics and other luxurious expenses. His parents weren’t materialistic people to begin with anyway.

 Bracing himself one last time, he breathed in and out, and proceeded to open the door to the music room. The notes were at their loudest yet remained eerily peaceful, undisturbed. Time to see what the face of his musician, impromptu visitor was…

Shuichi’s jaw almost dropped to the floor when his eyes laid upon the piano. It suddenly felt like a fever dream.

 On the bench in front of the keyboard sat a blonde girl around his age, fingers moving almost on their own as she closed her eyes, too much into her music piece to notice someone entering the room, he quickly guessed. She wasn’t dressed any oddly by any normal means, albeit very formally for a robber: a mauve dress reaching to her ankles, only leaving her ankles bare, with a trail sitting diligently at her feet, with matching gloves covering most of her arms. Even her hair seemed nowhere near ready for quick action and housebreak: it was a fancy hairdo, with strands all over her back and shoulders. Her profile was, you could say, divine.

Now, how she had gotten herself there was a complete enigma to Shuichi. Even his uncle would have a ton of troubles trying to decipher what in the flying disorder was happening before his eyes. A girl his age had somehow broken into a high-security house dressed for a ball… only to play the piano and leave everything else intact in her stead. Surely he had to be hallucinating it all, stuck in a fever dream and barely realizing it. It was unreal to say the least.

 Eventually, the piece ended, and the girl opened her eyes, revealing pink irises glancing right into his. God, she was beautiful in all the meanings of the physical team, but seriously, what the hell? Who was this woman, what was she doing there, playing the piano? How and why? She couldn’t have possibly been the cause of all the music he had lonelily heard all of his life, could she?

“Ah,” she spoke up before he could even phrase a single thing in a coherent sentence, “I see that you have found me at last. I’ve lost our little game of hide-and-seek!”

Okay, now that was getting a tad creepy and way too cryptic for his liking.

“Who… Who are you?!”

 Shuichi didn’t want to scream that like some angry drunk guy stumbling upon his own imagination, especially when the empty halls and rooms resonated this badly; yet his voice decided to do so anyway. Sometimes, his body could ask for his consent, but apparently it didn’t want to know anything about his desires. He’d have dwelled more on it if he wasn’t staring right at a girl playing on his mother’s piano with a slight smile and shimmering eyes.

“Well, I kind of expected you to ask me that first-hand. My name is Kaede. It’s a pleasure to meet you at last, Shuichi!”

Okay, what the fuck. How did she know his given name? What in the hell was that evasive response? And she still hadn’t only replied to most of his interrogations! Was she making fun of him, on top of stalking him with piano music of all things? He didn’t know how to phrase anything without sounding like a future murderer or a maniac.

 Still, “Kaede” quickly noticed he wasn’t convinced by just having her name. She simply hummed and resumed the conversation (if conversation this weird situation even was).

“I’m certain you won’t believe me, but we’re soulmates! Have you never heard the myth of hearing music everywhere you went until you’d meet your one true person? It doesn’t even have to be about love!”

“…you’re kidding me, right?”

She didn’t seem quite that happy with being questioned, instead shrugging with a slightly displeased expression. She ought to have had a knife hidden under her dress.

“Why would I joke about that? I’ve waited seventeen years to meet you!”

 She rose from the bench, hair and trail flowing behind her, floating in the air like wind blew in the room. He had to admit it: she was absolutely stunning and, frankly, didn’t seem too mean aside from being… weirdly playing the piano in an empty house.

“Hold up”, he still said, rising a hand. “How did you break in? Why aren’t you, I don’t know, stealing anything?”

“Why would I steal anything? I’m not here for items, I’m here for you!”

“Still, how did you make your way here?”

Kaede seemed bothered by his question, looking aside with an awkward smile.

“Weeeeell… It’ll sound unbelievable, but I can go through walls when I want!”

“…you really got to be kidding me.”

 As if to prove her point, she walked past him and, indeed, made her arm go through the wall behind his back. He felt a shiver go down his spine with a cold sweat.

“O-okay… And how do you do that…?”

He may have been terrified to see such a display without a proper forewarning.

“I’m a goddess!”

How far could this girl push his willing suspension of disbelief?

“Gods aren’t real, no? That’s old mythological stuff.”

“Yet you have one right in front of you!”

He supposed she could go through the walls and play the piano wherever he went…

“Wait, that means you’ve known me since I was a little boy, right?”

That had the most unfortunate implications ever.

“I… actually never saw you until now.”

 The situation kept growing weirder and weirder.

“Wait, what?! How do you know I’m “the one”, then?!”

She pulled down the right side of her dress, revealing a part of her breast and, most importantly, a crescent-shaped birthmark. With her other hand, she pointed exactly where his was, on his right.

“…so, all along, all those legends were true? God, I must be dreaming all this.”

Kaede looked annoyed.

“I thought you’d be happier than that to know you’re linked to a goddess in such a way!”

 Only then did it hit him.

“Wait. You’re the one who was playing this song I’d always hear, right?”

“Yeah. That was me trying to locate you, but most of the time, you’d be in trouble…”

“So, in short, you’re also the one who saved me when I was in harm’s way.”

“I tried my best back there! I couldn’t lose you before we’d meet, right? That’d have been anticlimactic!”

 It felt like being revealed the truth after a lifetime of lies and he, honestly, didn’t know how to handle it, or even if he could. That must have been when he felt her soft, warm touch around his body.

“Hey, are you okay?!” She asked, frantic, as she carried him like a firefighter around, until she found the nearest bedroom to put him on the bed.

Words had escaped his mouth, head spinning in dizziness.

“I suppose that’s a lot to take in…”

She picked a chair and sat on it, right next to it, her fingers hovering over one of his hands.

“I… I don’t know what to say…!” Shuichi laughed, still half in disbelief. “That stuff’s just insane!”

“I can only imagine so.”

 He took a deep breath and tried calming himself, if not just to stabilize his swimming field of vision for a moment.

“So… You’re some kind of goddess, right?”

“Yeah! I’m a deity of music! My father is the god of harmony and my mother is the goddess of technique and precision. My twin sister is the goddess of the harp!”

Okay. That made… some coherence, at least. It wasn’t entirely hazardous pull after hazardous pull.

“But, like, does that mean you were in love with me since I was born?”

“I didn’t know who you were for real until today! I just knew your name, where you were and things like that, but I couldn’t see your face until you’d see mine first. It’s the thing with being a goddess with a mortal soulmate…”

She seemed saddened by that fact.

“That’s a thing that happens, sometimes?”

“We deities have a few different soulmates in our lifetime. Sometimes, our bond to them is so strong the mortal get to ascend, but it happens very rarely. You’re my first soulmate, though! I’m a very young goddess by our standards!”

“You’ve waited for me for seventeen years, right?”

“Yeah! I hoped you were a good guy, and I’m not disappointed. I’m sorry if I’ve scared you with my attempts at finding you.”

“It’s… it’s fine. Now I know it’s not a stalker with malicious intentions, at least…”

 Kaede put one of her hand on his. It was only now that he was noticing she had somehow changed into something much more comfortable-looking: a pink toga-like dress with an untied hairdo. He supposed that was part of her powers…

“If you don’t want me around, I can always go back to where I come from. But, if I’m to be honest, I’d rather discover the mortal world with you.”

“N-no, not at all, you don’t bother me!” (Now that he was getting over his emotions, he realized she seemed like a nice sport all around. He could get used to her magical shenanigans later down the line). “I just have a question to ask.”

“Yeah?”

“Can you take a human form? I don’t want to introduce you to Kaito as my invisible friend who can go through walls…”

Her expression, which had been serious and determined until that point, broke into a laugh.

“I like that title, though! Anyway, yeah, I can take human shape and pretend to be a mortal. I’ll just have to use a bit of my goddess magic to give me some officialness.”

“And you don’t mind that?”

She shook her head. “Nuh-huh!”

“That’s good…”

 Shuichi felt a wave of fatigue suddenly washing over him before yawning. That was a lot of emotions…

“It’s getting late,” Kaede noted as she looked outside, the pale moon lighting the otherwise pitch-black bedroom. “I guess you want to sleep.”

“Wouldn’t be against it for sure… But I think you have a lot to tell me.”

“Oh, it’s no problem! I’ll be back in the morning then, when you’ll be all rested up! Goodnight, Shuichi.”

“Goodnight…”

He fell asleep before her fingers had even left his, still dressed for the day. Maybe that it was all just a dream, an absurd dream of absurd proportions. For now, it was a soothing experience, so he figured he may as well enjoy what was left of it until he’d wake up…

 When he woke up, it was to the smell of breakfast and the sight of a now-familiar smiling face with blond strands of hair cupping her cheeks.

[thewebcomicsreview]

Tonight on Legend of the Hare: Rasslevania! 

This was originally supposed to be a birthday, but then I thought of the phrase “no holds barred mitzvah” and changed it last second. do like that Jill and Riley both don’t actually know what a bar mitzvah is. Given that the next few pages portray the event as taking place in an arena (?) around a wrestling ring (??) and one of the people in attendance is a music industry scout (?!), it’s also possible that I didn’t know what a Bar Mitzvah was, or at the very least didn’t bother to change any of the later pages to account for this change. This is a really stupid plot point! And it also means that the band is tempted by money at a Jewish event, which is one of those things I probably should have stopped to consider the implications of, but I clearly didn’t consider the implications of anything I was doing on any level. In the aborted LotH Version 2, this whole scene was going to be an actual birthday party, and Riley would sing a song that would be way inappropriate for kids and the family would kick them out, which Riley would blame on Jill before Peggy showed up an arrested them all. It would be at the police station where the rabbits first appeared, and V2 was getting very far from V1 before I gave up on it.

There’s something very Scott Pilgrim vs the World-y in those first three panels, especially Jill’s band being a retro gaming reference. Who came up with that name, anyway? Also, wow, I just told Carlos to draw a generic indie wrestling poster and gave him a sample of one, but I totally passed on a chance to put a joke on the poster. Missed opportunity, past me! Also, using “Goldstein” as a generic Jewish name, bluh.  That’s lazy, it should’ve been a funnier name. If it’d been, like, “Rick ‘The Rack’ Ruckus presents: His son’s no-holds-barred mitzvah” then there’s a little character in it, the idea that maybe it’s the dad who likes wrestling and not the kid, which gives me an opportunity to have a joke later about the son being bored and also kind of helps explain why there’s no actual Bar Mitzvahing going on. You can tell how much I’m feeling a page by how much effort I’m putting into finding these spaces for a joke. In a perfect ideal word, a writer should spend as much time on a page as the artist, going over every line and background detail and trying to find ways to get as much mileage as possible out of every panel and taking every chance for a clever joke. Obviously, this doesn’t usually happen in practice. But it should! It’s very easy to pop out something passable in ten minutes as a writer in a way an artist can’t, but you should hold yourself to a higher standard and even now I don’t do that as much as I should.

Panel 3 looks like a generic alley, but I actually took a photo of an alley in Boston I liked and had Carlos use it as a reference

I’m not quite sure why I found this image so striking, but it adds a little to the sense of place that this alley has a brick road instead of a paved street, and is one of the very few visual clues that this comic takes place in Boston and not Generic City, so it was worth the time to photograph. Also, hey, that’s Eoin in a trenchcoat reading a newpaper in the background of paper three there. The original opening to Legend of the Hare would have had Trenchcoat Eoin (back when he was called Teporingo) and Mary Farrier at Doink Burger scoping Jill out as a potential rabbit champion. This never got past the first draft stage and mostly revolved around Mary being a hyper child and not focusing. Interestingly, the script I have for that opening establishes Legend of the Hare as being set in Oregon. I wonder why I set it there originally, given that I’ve never been. It might have just been a reference to Gravity Falls?

Anyway, this is the first appearance of Riley, and note that even this early he’s making fun of Jill behind her back. Old man Starflower seems to just accept what Jill is saying as normal, which looks like a joke but is also foreshadowing, since Starflower knows a bit more than was ever shown to the audience. Sadly, it never comes up in the comic because everything’s a mess, but Mary Farrier the horse champion is Starflower’s daughter, and it was through him that the rabbits learned of Jill. It’s all connected, but offscreen because I wasn’t doing anything properly.

The Lore Post for this page will be of grave importance to a few people: It’s the first appearance of Helen Alvarez, the Rooster Champion and surprisingly popular minor character! Helen doesn’t actually appear on-panel for like 40 pages, and by then she’s very clearly sick of all the “cock” jokes, but she seems to be in better humor about it here:

Dear Diary,

I don’t know if anyone’s going to read this, but if you’re reading this now, hi.

So today was odd. I skipped school and then a bunch of Roosters flew me off to Cock-Narnia. Little bit unexpected, that twist. They gave me the whole “Chosen One” spiel I’ve seen in a million fantasy novels, though they didn’t seem to know who actually chose me or why. They offered to let me go home, but I told them nah. Even a crappy Harry Potter LARP thing run by birds is better than Mom and Brad. And, honestly, I wasn’t going to make a better career choice than being the “Lady of Cocks”, so I might as well get on the Cock while I can. Got the tattoo and everything. I’m sure that’ll stop being funny any second now, but I’ve only been here a few hours so I’m going to ride the cock train just a bit more.

The cocks – there it is, this is old -the roosters are not very smart. Which I guess isn’t surprising, because they’re birds? But they can talk, so you’d think they’d be smarter than normal birds. And maybe they are, but they ain’t shown signs of it yet.

I tried to get some details on what my Cock Destiny (okay, one more) was, but no one was able to answer me. Kind of defeats the point of having a prophesied destiny if it’s a mystery, doesn’t it? If I wanted vague promises of future greatness, I’d see the guidance counselor again.

Isn’t that life, though? In that….um…..you never know what you’re gonna get? Or something? I dunno. I really don’t know anything. Supposedly once I sign up I get all kinds of magical girl superpowers, but I don’t feel very super right now. I mostly just wanna lie down. Such hero. Very amaze.

Actually, lying down sounds like a great idea right now. I need to stress over all my decisions today. I’m gonna go do that.

How was your day?

Holy hell, you can tell this lore post is old, there’s a doge reference.

[mrreindeerface]

Character Info for When The Night Comes

I’ll be honest, this got away from me a bit. I am not entirely sure this is coherent and I had to fight myself to not info-dump because I have so many thoughts on these dorks. For @galleywinter who has been patient with my need to scream about this fantastic game

Les Full Name: Alessa Mylona – also answers to Lessa Age: 27 Height: 5’10”

Les is the Hunter General in Lunaris. She’s headstrong, composed, and very much a stickler for the rules. She can be a bit standoffish at first – but is always willing to take the time and listen if someone needs her. She’s been a bit of an overachiever since she was young, which tends to rub off on the people around her whether they want it to or not. She’ll follow the spirit of the law rather than the letter of it – she’s gotten a fair share of citations in her files from going against orders when she felt it wasn’t the right thing to do. She can be very caring when needed, but tries to hold herself apart from people to help with her work.

She was orphaned at a young age, and was too difficult of a child to find a home anywhere until she was taken in by the Hunters. She puts a great deal of effort into appearing the ‘perfect’ Hunter, mostly out of fear she’ll lose the one family she’s ever really known. Although she worked on her own the first few years, she and Wren partnered on a difficult assignment and have been inseparable ever since. At the academy she specialized in Demonology – she fights with a weighted quarterstaff mostly but also has a few smaller silver daggers (just in case).

Les knew of the Piper Meriman before coming to Lunaris, more as the legend of a Hunter than as a real person. It was a bit of an early blow to find out the Enforcers would cast aside someone with that kind of reputation, though it did give her the chance to get being starstruck out of her system (and somewhere Piper couldn’t see her). There’s never been any hesitation on her part with letting Piper take the lead, not only because Piper is a force of nature but because Les likes having a chance to not be in charge of everything. Piper is one of the few people who can get her to shirk responsibility and just have fun.

Wren Full Name: Florian Laurent Age: 26 Height: 5’7”

Wren is the Hunter General’s right hand. They are very quiet, seeming almost shy, but they can be unyielding as steel. They are fiercely loyal to those they care about, almost to the point of absurdity. Although dedicated to their career as a Hunter, they weren’t prepared for volume of bureaucratic nonsense that came with the territory of trying to help people. Wren will flout any rule necessary to do the right thing, at least the right thing by their standards. They’re much more empathetic than their partner, and don’t bother to maintain a distance from the people in their life.

Wren grew up the oldest of three children – their father was forcibly retired as a Hunter due to a spinal injury. Hoping to carry on the family tradition of being a ‘hero,’ they studied and trained until they could be tested. Although never a truly model student, they were still one of the best. They specialized in Weapons and Combat training and spent their first few years in the field honing their tracking skills. They are unparalleled at laying traps and setting ambush locations – usually with some guidance from Les. They prefer to fight from a distance, using ranged weapons and resorting to daggers only when necessary.

They were wholly unprepared for the Lunarian double-threat of Omen and Alkar. Both of them had a unique charm, and proved to be effortlessly entertaining for the needling-inclined Wren. The two of them served as a good distraction and break from the insanity that was the investigation, and Wren was more than happy to play matchmaker in the early stages of their relationship. It can be a bit tricky for them to not get sucked into teaming up with one or the other to get the third, but in reality that’s part of the fun of their relationship.

 Les and Wren

They started working together three years before coming to Lunaris after teaming up together on a particularly tricky mission. Wren liked the convenience of having what was essentially a battering ram on their side, while Les appreciated knowing there was someone at her back to help out. Although Hunter teams are not common, and are often split up if called for, the two of them fought tooth and nail to be kept together every time they needed to be transferred.

Not only in sync in battle, the two also work well together off the field. Les is much better suited to maneuvering (read: manipulating) the Enforcers to get what they need whereas Wren has been much better at connecting to the Creatures and getting insider information. Although both have their own way of handling civilians, they ultimately have the same goal: to put on a good face for the organization, despite the recent situation.

 Alaric Full Name: Gideon Alaric Fehler Age: 31 Height: 6’2”

Alaric came to Lunaris by chance, as a Hunter on a specialty assignment. Although he holds himself proudly there’s always a mischievous glint in his eyes. He’s a sucker for having a laugh and a round of ales in the tavern, as much as he enjoys the sense of accomplishment that comes with seeing a town that fees safe because of the work the Hunters do. As he operates, to some degree, outside of the standard Hunter/Enforcer system he can come off a bit of a loose cannon, but at the end of the day his interest is protecting the people.

Originally from Thiyrus, Alaric was sent to join the Hunters by his mother who dreamed of having her son grow up to be strong and a protector for their homeland. Although she did get her wish, he always carried a hint of resentment at the pain her choice brought him. Despite this, he dedicated all his time and effort to his training and studies: he specialized in Alchemy and Demonology both. In combat training he favored short swords, enjoying the adrenaline rush that came from being in the middle of a fight and dancing around his opponents.  

Alaric fell hard and he fell fast for August – as comically “love at first sight” as can be imagined. He was immediately drawn in by their grace, composure, and the raw depth of power he could sense under their skin. Due to the nature of their work, he originally decided not to act on his feelings as he felt a workplace relationship was not the best idea. The longer their task kept him in Eskria, and by extension in Lunaris, the more he found himself wishing to court them. The delight he felt when his interest was immediately (and intensely) returned was palpable, and the two have been nigh inseparable since.

 Poppy Full Name: [Redacted] – Also answers to Pippa, Pips, and Pip (only used by Alaric) Age: 24 Height: 5’1” or 5’2”

Poppy is not a Hunter, but a Witch working under the mantle of Enforcer, though their history with the organization can be considered complicated at best. They hold themselves tightly, observing with sharp eyes rather than interacting with the world around them. There’s a sly humor to them if caught at the right moment – they are guilty of playing small tricks just to get a laugh out of a group of children more than once. They are also sharply intolerant of those who would do harm to others out of fear and misunderstanding, leaving them usually opposition with others in their order. Underneath the hard exterior is someone very afraid of being vulnerable – something they spend a lot of time trying to hide.

Protective of their origins, Poppy doesn’t talk much about who they are and where they’re from, not even to those they consider close friends. Although Alaric seems to hold many of their secrets, even he will say he knows almost nothing. They do frequently allude to being from somewhere “far away” and come from a “rather large” family – brothers and sisters of all sorts are mentioned in passing. At some stage they received both magic and combat training: their skill with barriers and forcefields is unmatched and the enchanted blade hanging at their side is not just for show. They are an alchemist on the side, mostly using the skill to brew potions and poultices for their frequently injured Hunter.

As they arrived in Lunaris several months before everything truly went to shit, they were able to catch a glimpse of Finn and Ezra together in their prime. Though instantly intrigued by both of them, Poppy was content to have their relationship stand at “enthusiastic flirting” and nothing more. After Finn’s attempt at distancing and the escalation of Lunaris’ problems, Poppy was unexpectedly caught up in their reunion – quite literally walking in on them shortly after they reconciled. Though it was uncharted territory for them they will grudgingly admit it all worked out in the end, and that they are happier for it.

 Alaric and Poppy

Having originally met on a special assignment in Aclea, the two of them complimented each other perfectly as both fighters and scholars. As both of them specialized in locating, identifying, and containing magical phenomena they were quickly organized into a specialist unit. Though this meant they were forced to travel in excess, it gave them both the opportunity they wanted to forge their own roles within their respective organizations.

Being sent to investigate the sudden spike in supernatural events across Eskria, and in Lunaris in particular, this assignment is their first “long-term” arrangement somewhere. It has provided Alaric the opportunity to train and fight beside one of his personal heroes, and has given Poppy the space to experiment with new recipes and spells. Though certainly one of their more challenging assignments, it is proving to be one of the most rewarding as well.

[shinneth]

subject to future deletion

Normally I wouldn’t resort to that and I might end up being too lazy to do it anyway, but between getting sick again, dealing with some very intense verbal abuse every day irl, and the monthly burdens of the gender, I’m really not in a good place right now and I need to vent something. 

It’s officially gotten bad enough to interfere with my ability to write, even though I’m at a point in my current story that I’ve been very eager to reach... and every step of the way I’m struggling to write it and I hate what I currently have and it’s taking everything in my current power to not just scrap it entirely. 

Basically, I think I’m failing as a writer.

The irl stuff is actually not what I’m gonna get into because it’s really nothing new and it’ll probably resolve itself, but the side-effect of suffering that kind of negativity is that it enhances lingering negative feelings you’ve had about other things.

Namely, things you do to get away from the pains of the real world. The things you do to have fun and get some enjoyment out of life, no matter how challenging it is to be in this thing because it’s so wrongfully derided and demonized by the majority of your peers.

I try to keep telling myself it’s just because I’m still relatively very new to the fandom compared to my contemporaries, but as I’m typing this right now and listening to my favorite wrestler Shelton Benjamin in an interview, immediately I see the pit I’m starting to fall into. 

Like, it’s uncanny. This is what he said as I started on the above paragraph:

“If I sit and constantly compare myself to other people’s successes, you would drive yourself crazy. Because no matter what, there’s always someone who’s gonna be more successful.”

“I need to remember where I come from; how far I’ve came.”

Basically, in the very small world of Stevidot (and to a lesser extent, SU’s fandom as a whole), despite my efforts, I feel very much like the Shelton Benjamin in a small, dedicated group of talented Stevidot content creators.

Which is to say, I’m basically a midcarder in the mix with a bunch of top-tier legends. Shelton graduated from the same group as some modern very well-known mainstream stars that I can easily associate with a very well-known and accomplished Stevidot contributor.

Shelton graduated with the likes of John Cena, Brock Lesnar, Dave Batista, and Randy Orton. At least half of those names should be at least vaguely familiar for my followers as most of them have had such great success that they’re known in avenues beyond wrestling (save for Randy Orton, but he’s well past outshined his father as a legendary wrestler who’ll never be forgotten). 

I could easily say Watcher is the John Cena of Stevidot, while Platon’s probably the Brock Lesnar... sinderella0069′s the Batista. But I honestly don’t feel like I’ve done enough (or stood out enough) to even be a Randy Orton for this pairing. I’d at least give that honor to Ig just for being so active with it on Tumblr despite the wave of hatred thrown her way (even though she’s shifted focus onto Stevinel now). 

Again, I keep trying to tell myself that it’s because I’m not even remotely as tenured in the fandom as any of them are. 

Then I see this said in a review on a very recently-made Stevidot story...

And said reviewer has not once ever left a review on any Stevidot story of mine. Not even a follow or a favorite or a goddamned kudos. Considering I currently have an actively-updated Stevidot story going on (and a two-shot that I just did last month), I highly doubt my stuff was just overlooked.

Now, is it true that Stevidot is hard to come by? Of course it is. But this isn’t the first time I’ve seen a fellow Stevidot fan lament about the lack of Stevidot content while completely disregarding anything I contribute.

I know there’s one that outright doesn’t like my content based on personal taste (nothing to do with Stevidot itself, just how I execute it). There’s another big-name who shows no interest whatsoever in reading what I have to offer - and at this point I feel that’s for the best, because I have a feeling they’d hate my execution as well. 

While I’ve always primarily written for myself, I also felt a great fulfillment for providing content for a niche crowd that really deserves more than what they have. I think Stevidot’s a fantastic pairing with tons of unexplored potential and should be much more readily available than it actually is. Even if I tend to not get many reviews, I keep track of the site traffic every day on my stories and I know for sure that there are people reading my stuff. Since I’m really bad at leaving reviews myself, I go out of my way not to whine about not having very many overall for my series since I’d be a huge-ass hypocrite to do so. 

However.

Statements like the the aforementioned review and statements I’ve seen elsewhere by those who I know are at least aware of me are like stakes through the heart.

Because it can only mean one thing: my content doesn’t count.

I’m honestly not sure which is worse for me; being critically panned for the stuff I’ve put my all into over the past year, or being treated like my stuff doesn’t even exist. 

I prided myself on contributing as much as I did for Stevidot over this past year. Quantity doesn’t = automatic quality, but I’ve got 20+ years of writing experience in, so even someone with a shit self-esteem like myself can’t just say I’m an objectively bad writer, because I’m not. 

But apparently it doesn’t matter that I put in over half a million worlds in the name of Stevidot to a good chunk of the very tiny Stevidot fanbase; according to them, my contributions are irrelevant.

Is it my fault?

One thing I will admit is a detriment to my particular brand of Stevidot is that, save for one story (which happens to be by far my most successful Stevidot story in terms of recognition numbers), the rest of my series follows a continuous narrative that greatly deviates from canon as of Change Your Mind. I’m also notoriously a very verbose kind of writer - I have the tl;dr curse something fierce. 

So all stories I’ve written since my main 3-act series (which ended up being nearly 200k in length on its own) have been direct sequels to that. Because of the heavy deviation from CYM, the environment of the following stories is very different and easy to get lost in if you skipped GA entirely. 

Because there are so many dangling threads and new opportunities to be had after GA ended, I basically committed myself to my AU.

It’s not like anyone else is going to explore these possibilities.

Beyond that, honestly, I just don’t want to rewire my brain back to the canon status quo - not after the shitloads of character development I’ve not only given Steven and Peridot, but nearly everyone at this point has had a moment or two of really intense character growth. 

I like having Peridot co-star with Steven. I like having her become a more competent and active teammate than she’s portrayed in canon (while still giving her comic relief moments). I like that I didn’t redeem the Diamonds and instead had them killed off to force our protagonists to deal with the fallout of the collapse of a mighty empire on a much grander scale than what’s going on in the actual show.

In a way, this AU of mine has helped me cope with the shortcomings of the show itself. I already went on a stupid tirade once about how the sadistic nature of my writing has basically made me no-sell whatever trauma Rebecca Sugar’s throwing on Steven and upsetting everyone else. I’m still fairly certain I’m still outdoing her in that department. 

And because 100% of my passion for creating Stevidot is through this narrative I weaved, I have no desire to leave it. 

So I’ll admit my stories aren’t exactly the most accessible to the average reader who hasn’t been following my work since Day 1. 

Then again... I first got into Sinderella’s series completely ass-backwards at first. I eventually read it in the proper order, and like many of the great Stevidot epics, it’s canon divergent from a much earlier point in the series, so it was very easy to get confused about why certain things happened differently at first... but ultimately, I wasn’t that bothered by it because I just wanted some good Stevidot. I’d figure out the finer details later. 

I really do owe this author more props than I’ve actually given - she’s one out of two readers I know for a fact have been following my series since the beginning without missing a beat. I’ll probably review her newest story sooner or later now that it’s complete. 

Not gonna lie, though... when I saw our numbers side-by-side like this:

Considering they’re very similar stories (Stevidot smuts that were originally meant to be one-shots), mine is over a month old and hers is only a few days old and there’s already that big of a gap in our numbers? 

It’s hard not to feel like a failure; like I did something horribly wrong to suck this bad by comparison. 

I really should stress that I bear no ill will against Sinderella or any Stevidot author; this isn’t a competition, so this isn’t a matter of popularity. I knew coming into this that I wouldn’t get popular overnight; especially not with such an unpopular ship being the focus of my story. 

But when other Stevidot stories get frequent reviewers that I’ve never seen once acknowledge my stories even passively, I can’t help but feel like I’ve massively fucked up somewhere. That despite all my efforts, I might as well be invisible. When they say “Oh, good thing your story is here! It’s been such a Stevidot drought around here until you came along!” to other authors after I’ve written half a million fucking words in under a year for this ship...

You know, is it unreasonable to feel that I utterly fucking failed in several ways? 

I guess it’s no wonder why I’m struggling to keep writing. I still want to - like I said, I’m at a part I’ve been eager to write for a while now - but ever since I started it, I’ve just hated almost all of what I have so far (almost 8k words). And I’m really having trouble trying to salvage it.

I’m honestly not the type who’d scrap all my progress and start from scratch once I’ve gotten this far in. But maybe I’ll have to make an exception this time, because I think I finally made the mistake of trying to write while being mentally and emotionally distraught.

I thought I’d calm down once I wrote all this out, but honestly, I’m not really feeling it. Now I’m wondering if I should have just reached out to someone instead of making this, because now I’ll come off as a whiner with my pansy-ass first-world problems. 

But then again, I’d be an asshole to subject anyone to my idiotic woes. 

Maybe this’ll pass. I’m hoping it’ll pass. I really, really really really don’t want to lose my drive to write again. I was used to it coming and going in short and random spurts for almost all my life - then it finally came to me and stayed with me just a little under a year ago, and I’ve been desperate not to let it go because I’ve been more productive now than I’ve ever been in my 20+ tenure as a writer. 

I don’t want this to go away. There’s still so much more I want to tell. 

But then my logic goes... if you tell the story and no one’s there to hear it, is it ever really told?

[clouds-of-wings]

I wrote this like 3 weeks ago and actually got over it since but @tardigradedeathposture wanted to read it, so here’s the lightly edited rant.

---

I was going to not write about how crap I thought the Witcher TV show was but it keeps bugging me and whatever here’s my rant.

So as my followers might know, I played the games (yes even the first) and mostly liked them, especially the second, which I think is a great game and actually better than the third, which I still enjoyed. The first, well, had its moments. I’ve read the first book about 5 years ago after playing the second game for the second time but couldn’t really get into it, I watched the old Polish TV adaptation and found it sort of quaint but nothing special. So of course I was skeptical of the prospect of a TV show but also sort of interested.

Well good things first. I thought Henry Cavill played Geralt pretty well actually. People hated him when he was first introduced but I think most were won over by his performance. He isn’t quite like the Geralt I know, but that might be due to the script. Second good thing, Jaskier isn’t quite as incredibly annoying as he is in the games, though still annoying. But at least he isn’t a pimp here. Third good thing, Chireadan, because Elves <3

But apart from these aspects, I think I haven’t watched such a stupid show since Once upon a time (which was so terrible that it caused my gallbladder to ache non-stop, so I had to stop after the first half of season 1. Witcher didn’t do that, so I guess it wasn’t quite as bad as OUAT). I know the series follows the story laid out in the books, and actually my problem isn’t even what happens, but how it’s presented, in that story and characterization manage to be tepid and tropey and also illogical and self-contradictory.

Take Yennefer for example, because her character annoyed me the most.

Now I’m not a fan of her in the third game either but at least she has a consistent (terrible) personality and a will of her own there. I read that she’s a better character in the books, so okay. Maybe they butchered her on the show. I honestly don’t remember the book I read very well anymore, as I said, I couldn’t get into it.

She is explicitly said and shown to do very badly during her mage training and to be bad at court politics, she’s barely even shown doing magic before the last episode, but she gets to “ascend”, whatever that means, while the other (far more deserving?) students get turned into eels. Later her teacher says she was the best student she’d ever had (?? when? where?) and gives her trust and responsibility for zero reason and Yennefer goes on to save the day, sort of.

She gets, in one of the most unrealistic scenes on the show, cosmetic surgery that involves an extensive spinal operation and the removal of her uterus WITHOUT NARCOTICS and half an hour later she wows everyone at the prom ball. IIRC, in the books and the games the sorceresses and sorcerers alter their appearance using, uh, magic instead of having some guy rip out their spine. And the sorceresses explicitly make themselves beautiful because “that’s what their clients expect”, just like the sorcerers make themselves appear as “venerable” old men - because it’s the pre-conception their clients have. It’s subversive, John-Karen, because the mages somewhat cynically show themselves to be genre-savvy by exploiting the... why am I explaining this. It’s obvious to everyone except the idiots who wrote the show. The point is, it’s not about their personal empowerment, but they could have done something with Yennefer’s “ugly to beautiful” transformation and they didn’t, so that sucks too.

From the whole way she’s presented, it becomes clear that she would be a terrible mother (”happy childhoods make for boring conversation”), yet we’re supposed to feel sympathy for her quest for fertility. And she’s constantly bitter about her lack of it - when the surgeon told her very clearly that she’d be losing her fertility as a side-effect of the operation and she explicitly agreed to it. This wasn’t something that was forced upon her yet she acts like it was.

Just like in the game, she has zero concern for other people’s wishes or boundaries. I mean she cast magic upon a bunch of people and made them sexually assault each other, and the show just frames it as “sexy lady hosts an orgy”. Then she accuses Geralt of not paying attention to other people’s boundaries because he made a wish she doesn’t even know the specifics of (lol).

Yennefer is a pretty terrible person, which would be fine in terms of character, if she were actually presented as terrible. Yennefer actually has pretty exactly the personality of Cersei Lannister, but Cersei was intentionally portrayed as vicious, power-hungry, dishonest and irrational. We weren’t supposed to see her as a good person and that made her a great character. Watching Cersei was fun and interesting. Watching Yennefer is grating because in any sane universe, a woman like that would not be the hero. That’s also why I think it’s absolutely false to call TW “the new GoT”. TW is worse than even late seasons GoT.

However, the show loves her so much that it randomly gives her super-powers whenever it suits. In the fight in front of the dragon cave, she’s as good with a sword as Geralt, even though she has no training and no muscles and he’s literally been mutated to become a better fighter. In the last episode, she easily deters the attack by Nilfgaard and then destroys their camp (??) with magic when up until then she was only ever shown to be very bad at magic. (Unleash *~the chaos inside you~* god who wrote that script?)

But in the end, almost her whole story is determined by the effect she has on men. Despite all her qualities that we’re supposed to blindly believe she has, it’s her looks and the fact that some men like her constant pointless insults that determines what happens to her. The archeologist guy in the beginning is the only one who stops her from totally failing at mage training. The king she wows with her good looks and her early 21st century dress becomes her employer. Geralt and the Elf guy falling for her. The knight guy she manipulates into going to dragon mountain with her. Her only skill that she is somewhat consistently proven to actually possess is the ability to charm and seduce men with her beauty and her sparkling personality.

Unfortunately, this characterization is somewhat common among “strong female characters”. All the important female characters on American Gods are that way as well. Wonder Woman is (in the film, I haven’t read the comics) close to it as well. Random pointless superpowers, but her story is actually determines by everyone being head over heels for her because she’s pretty. I don’t really know why this counts as “feminist”, but for the media industry apparently it does. I think it’s rather the opposite.

But, god, Yennefer wasn’t the only terrible character. I also hated the way they portrayed what were apparently supposed to be Scoia’tael adjacent Elves in the first episode. Can you imagine Iorveth or Yaevinn make common cause with those planless caricatures? I absolutely love the clearheadedness and ruthlessness of the Scoia’tael in the games. They rebel against human oppression with the decisiveness of people with nothing left to lose. The Elves are portrayed as a mentally somewhat superior race who see themselves as the rightful owners of the land and are absolutely furious at humans using brute force to disinherit them. I love the absolute lack of moral high ground and of “virtuous victimhood”. I love the elitism turned to bitterness. I love the way they frame things like telling Elvish legends as acts of resistance (which is something that has plenty of real-life parallels). I love (since it’s fictional and all) the vicious treatment of human civilians, since, you know, from the Elves’ perspectives there are no civilians among the humans. In the games, you’re clearly made to understand that both the Scoia’tael and their opponents have committed terrible acts, and then, because this is war, you’re expected to pick a side anyway. Which was both easy and fun for me as a huge Elf stan in general, but I love that it’s not supposed to be an easy choice.

So I’m just talking about a short scene in the first or second episode, because that was the only time we see Elves who have Elf-specific problems, but I just hated that scene, because it steps into exactly the tropes that the games avoided. They complain, act irrationally and are portrayed as helpless, morally pure victims who won’t actually do anything that will do more than just slightly inconvenience humans. Toothless! Exactly as Hollywood would like oppressed peoples to be, righteous in their suffering, maybe stealing some bread but that’s all they will do.

Another thing that really bothered me was how unpolished it was. Hahaha! Terrible pun alert. They took everything Polish out of the story, see what I did there? I would have loved to see those houses with the flowers painted on them for example that are based on a real Polish village. What we got was just a bland Medieval(TM) world that could be anywhere and had no discernible features. It also obliterated the charm of the costume design. I found myself longing even for King Henselt’s unbelievably stupid belt because at least it had some character. And the weird and awesome creature design as well. None of it was on the show. Can you imagine that in a million years creatures like the three Crones from TW3 would show up on the show? Of course not, because a female character who won’t give the viewer a boner is obviously not worth showing.

And I don’t even understand how they managed to include Geralt being aware of his outsider status and thinking about it and to somehow make it boring anyway. But I’m really tired of writing and thinking about this now, so this is the end of my rant about like... half the things that annoyed me about the show.