#but then i think back to she told herself defense was not her role

[the-physicality]

Sheryl Swoopes, Tina Thompson, and Cynthia Cooper discuss the fact that there is no houston team any more

[campgender]

from In the Dream House by Carmen Maria Machado (2019)

In Dorothy Allison’s short story “Violence Against Women Begins at Home,” a group of lesbian friends gathers for a drink and they discuss a bit of community gossip: a pair of women recently broke into another woman’s house and trashed it, smashing glass and dishes and destroying her art, which they deemed pornographic. They spray-painted the story’s eponymous phrase on her wall. The friends debate police involvement and intragroup conflict mediation; but toward the end of the story, as they are parting ways, the problem crystallizes into a single, telling exchange:

“Look, do you think maybe we could hold a rent party for Jackie, get her some money to fix her place back up?”

Paula looks impatient and starts gathering up her stuff. “Oh, I don’t think we should do that. Not while they’re still in arbitration. And anyway, we have so many important things we have to raise money for this spring—community things.”

“Jackie’s a part of the community,” I hear myself say.

“Well, of course.” Paula stands up. “We all are.” The look she gives me makes me wonder if she really believes that, but she’s gone before I can say anything else.

Queer folks fail each other too. This seems like an obvious thing to say; it is not, for example, a surprise to nonwhite queers or trans queers that intracommunity loyalty goes only so far, especially when it must confront the hegemony of the state. But even within ostensibly parallel power dynamics, the desire to save face, to present a narrative of uniform morality, can defeat every other interest.

The queer community has long used the rhetoric of gender roles as a way of absolving queer women from responsibility for domestic abuse. Which is not to say that activists and academics didn’t try. When the conversation about queer domestic abuse took hold in the early 1980s, activists gave out fact sheets at conferences and festivals to dispel myths about queer abuse. [see footnote 45] Scholars distributed questionnaires to get a sense of the scope of the problem. [see footnote 46] Fierce debates were waged in the pages of queer periodicals.

But some lesbians tried to restrict the definition of abuse to men’s actions. Butches might abuse their femmes, but only because of their adopted masculinity. Abusers were using “male privilege.” (To borrow lesbian critic Andrea Long Chu’s phrase, they were guilty of “[smuggling patriarchy] into lesbian utopia.”) Some argued that consensual S&M was part of the problem. Women who were women did not abuse their girlfriends; proper lesbians would never do such a thing. [see footnote 47] There was also the narrative that it was, simply, complicated. The burden of the pressure of straight society! Lesbians abuse each other!

Many people argued that the issue needed to be handled within their own communities. Ink was spilled in the service of decentering victims, and abusers often operated with impunity. In an early lesbian domestic abuse trial, a lawyer noted the odd and unsettling detail that most of the time the jury spent behind closed doors was—contrary to what she’d been worried about—the straight jurors attempting to convince the jury’s sole lesbian member of the defendant’s guilt. When she was later questioned, the lesbian juror told the lawyer that she hadn’t “wanted to convict a [queer] sister,” as though the abused girlfriend was not herself a fellow queer woman.

Around and around they went, circling essential truths that no one wanted to look at directly, as if they were the sun: Women could abuse other women. Women have abused other women. And queers needed to take this issue seriously, because no one else would.

footnote 45: Among the myths tackled by the Santa Cruz Women’s Self Defense Teaching Cooperative: “Myth: It’s only emotional/psychological, so that doesn’t count.” “Myth: I can handle it—unlike her last three lovers.” “Myth: Staying together and working it out is most important.” “Myth: We’re in therapy, so it’ll get fixed now.”

footnote 46: Actual questionnaire language by researcher Alice J. McKinzie: “Is your abuser present at this festival? If your abuser is at this festival, is she present while you are filling this out? If your abuser is not present while you are filling this out, is she aware that you are filling out this questionnaire? If you answered NO to the question above … do you plan to tell her later?”

footnote 47: This No True Scotsman fallacy could bend these narratives in every direction conceivable; create a kind of moving goalpost that permitted an endless warping of accountability. In a firsthand account of her abuse in Gay Community News in 1988, a survivor wrote: “I had been around lesbians since I was a teenager, and although some of them had troubled relationships, I was unaware of any battering. I attached myself to the comforting myth that lesbians don’t batter. Much later, when I was ‘out’ enough to go to gay bars in a town that was liberal enough to tolerate them, I saw that some lesbians did indeed batter. However, I thought they were all of a type—drunks, sexist butches or apolitical lesbians—so I decided that feminist lesbians don’t batter.” Activist Ann Russo put it more succinctly in her book Taking Back Our Lives: “I had found it hard to name abuse in lesbian relationships as a political issue with structural roots.”

[novantinuum]

mmmmmmm. messy ass ramble thoughts ahead. this is not coherent, it is 1am, you have been warned.

so i've been thinking about that "i can fix anything! i can just keep messing up and fixing things forever, and you'll never have to know or think about any of it!" line during steven's lil manic panic moment in the ep everything's fine in the context of like... og SU episodes

this whole lil manic slip is one that's like... it seems a little extreme for him as a character at first, when one looks at the situation on surface.

but i think it really does shed a LOT of light onto one of his deepest fear. the same fear he's harbored for a good damn deal of the show.

"i didn't wanna hurt anyone!"

this moment comes just a few eps after the S3 finale 'reveal' of rose shattering pink diamond. in that final scene of the season, steven gets 'confirmation' from garnet that this happened, and seems to accept it for what it was- a difficult decision made amidst a treacherous war.

but also, he Doesn't.

because he's the legacy rose left behind. because each and every day he's growing more into his power. because now, with this reveal of rose's decision to shatter on the table, he's putting each and every decision he makes under a microscope.

he had no choice, he claims. she wouldn't let him help her.

he had no choice. it was self defense.

but is that true?

isn't that the same thing his mom probably told herself before ending a gem's life forever?

even though she poofed bismuth and holed her away for suggesting the very same idea??

rose became a hypocrite... so what if HE becomes the hypocrite, too?

see, with steven... i think it's really easy in the main show to sorta... observe all his actions on the mere surface without considering the deeper tickings of his psyche. like... take lars being brought back to life. from audience POV, that's a good deed. steven just saved someone with his magic! positive moment.

but genuinely... i think this was one of the worst moments of his entire life. i think he's still haunted by it- by the fact that he can just "fix" people in that way. and i think fixing jasper's shattered gem only made the specter of that day worse.

steven believes his role is to be the Shield.

the protector.

the one who is willing to do whatever it takes- even up to turning himself in for a crime he didn't commit- to protect his family and his friends.

and like, we all know that it's not steven's FAULT that lars died. BUT- he still died while under steven's protection.

and so the same way steven blames himself for "hurting" bismuth, jasper, and eyeball, he blames himself for killing lars. mentally, he Takes Responsibility for his death. yet another tick mark in the box of horrible "mistakes" he's made, yet another tick mark landing him just a little closer to the rose he's desperately trying not to become.

and worst of all... it's a mistake he "covers up."

because his tears are able to bring him back from the dead entirely.

and years later he realizes this is true for gems as well ;-;;;

so yeah, i absolutely think lars' death was also at the back of his mind when he said that line at the beginning

what steven saw in the depths of his mind as he was panicking there was him slipping down a slippery slope of violence that he couldn't escape from

first, causing harm to other gems and calling it self defense...

then, letting your friend die protecting YOU when you're the one who should be protecting him and facing NO consequence for this misgiving because you bring him back to life

then, expressing anger so visceral it can shatter floors, destroy whole rooms, flip vans. out of control. inexcusable.

then... outright shattering a gem in a duel while training to hone that anger. once again, facing NO consequence because you bring her right back.

then, that sudden, terrifying thought of "what if i shattered white diamond"

like, steven has absolutely no framework by which to separate his actions from genuine desire or just plain abstract thought.

he has no framework by which to understand the beautiful tool of adding a "man would it be fucked up or what-" to the beginning of those sorts of intimidating, dark musings.

he has no framework by which to understand the complexities of his trauma, and the way in which genuinely fighting back against someone he once called an enemy might feel empowering- instead, it would seem he's disgusted in retrospect with how deep he pressed into that fight, how much a part of him ENJOYED it, all because of the horrid destination it led to.

anyways at this point steven thinks he has now become the Hypocrite like his mom, and that he's just destined to hurt everyone around him forever but never be punished for it and Ouch

this post has no end, these were just ramble thoughts, the end. goodnight. i am sleepy and need to prepare to make Wig tomorrow bc OH boy i am con crunch.

yeehaw .

[enaelyork]

Can we get a Cooper Howard x female reader fic where reader is in an abusive marriage and he helps her leave (by any means necessary)? Need him to get violent and defensive over me -swoon- and of course they end up together?

Thank you in advance!!

Hi my dear !

That's a good idea, i try to make something =) Let's go.

Pre-war/ Divorced Cooper/ Cooper x f!reader.

Warning : Abusive mariage/ violences/ injuries.

Ask for Cooper Howard is OPEN

- I'm divorced.

What luck.

She looked around, as if arguing with him was a crime punishable by death. There was nothing wrong with that, though: Cooper had been her friend throughout her adolescence and they had lost touch until this filming. What a strange coincidence that fate decided to put him on her path again.

Him, so charming and luminous while she had decided to join the darkness.

- I don't know if you can call that luck.

She jumps. Damn, had she said those words out loud? Red comes to her face as she completely drinks her glass of champagne, pouring out apologies.

- It's not. No. I didn't mean such a thing. Really, I'm sorry. And don't think I'm unhappy with my husband, it's just that.

- You are here.

His voice made his blood run cold. A bit like every time she emerged behind his back. He was a shadow always lurking behind her, even when she couldn't see him. A shadow that terrified her. Had he seen it? Had he seen the mask of terror settle on her face? Had he noticed everything she tried to hide behind her long-sleeved dress in the middle of summer? He understood, by discovering this man, what was going on in his life.

- Oh, you're good, Travis. She said, trying to hide the hint of panic that distorted her voice. I guess you remember Cooper. We went to high school together and I now work with him on set.

His silence was worse than a sentence. He looked at Cooper with an undisguised desire to drag you away from him. But as usual, Travis, your perfect little husband, knew how to play his role perfectly in public.

- Y/N told me so much about you. I've seen your films, you know? I find you brilliant.

He had grabbed her hand and she had guessed the grimace that her husband was trying to hide. Cooper, for his part, had a glint in his eyes that she didn't know existed, a glint resembling anger. - Likewise, Travis. She is full of praise for you. It was totally false.

He had just discovered her husband's identity and the only thing he could have seen during the early stages of filming was how important it was for her to finish on time. How important it was that we didn't see her smiling in any public photos, or even her own shadow. How important it was that she was invisible.

- I think Y/N and I are going home, right, darling? She nodded automatically: it was the only thing she was allowed to do when he gave her an order and her hand gripped his arm so tightly that a grimace of pain tied her mouth.

- We hadn't finished our discussion.

No one around them suspected what was going on, there, in the middle of the large gala hall in which the producer had decided to give a reception. It was going to turn into a fiasco, soon, if they continued to stare at each other like two animals ready to devour each other.

- It's finished. Darling. We're going back.

She wanted to protest. Telling him that she wanted to stay with Cooper and continue to be herself. Simply live. But she didn't have the strength, at no time had she had the courage to say no, to take her things and leave. Which made her, in his eyes, more worthless than she had ever been. Her eyes met Cooper's, and she hoped she wasn't too pathetic when her husband's impulse pulled her away from him. But his gaze, the one that looked at her at that precise moment, will probably haunt her for the rest of her life.

What a terrible irony.

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

They never spoke about it again.

Cooper had tried, between two scenes, at every pause, to discuss the incident with her, but Y/N kept dodging the question. She knew that if she were to confess the horror to him, she would never be strong again. And then it was Cooper. How would he view her if he learned how ruined her life was? How would he look at her, compassion or, worse, pity?

No, that was out of the question. You were hitting on him, you little whore. The violence of his words and gestures still resonated within her several weeks before.

The suffering was so firmly anchored in her that she had done everything possible to avoid being found wanting: walking along the walls of the film set like a ghost, she did not linger after the day and returned directly to the House. But that wasn't enough anymore.

Travis became more demanding of her every day, more possessive too, going so far as to control his own appearance.

- I wish you would resign. He dropped this bombshell over breakfast, a few months after filming began.

- Sorry ?

Without looking up from his newspaper, his feet resting on the table and ignoring the pancakes she had just prepared for him, he continued his cruel sentence.

- You heard what I just said. I was nice to you by letting you work for my friend Jim, but you screwed it up again. You are not capable of doing what I ask you. You're not capable of anything, in fact.

- You can't ask me that, Travis, please. I like my job. I'm sorry, just tell me what to do.

Without her expecting it, the newspaper flew towards her, slapping her face violently. A cry of surprise, immediately muffled by the violence with which he grabbed her arm.

- You see, that’s the problem with you. You are so stupid that you don't even understand when you exceed the limits. If you had listened to my demands from the start you wouldn't be here. So tonight, you better quit that job. Did you understand ?

She had nodded, hoping that this way he would finally let go, that her blood would be able to circulate in her arm again. But he threw it back with such violence that her body hit the kitchen shelf, knocking down a few cups which shattered on the floor.

- And put it away! Always making a mess.

It wasn't long after he left that tears flooded her eyes.

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

Nothing had gone as planned that day.

After tidying up the kitchen, cleaning the sores that dotted her skin, Y/N had arrived on set late. A delay that had not escaped Cooper and his suspicious gaze. He shouldn't have known anything. However, while she was trying to flee, he followed her in the corridor leading to her dressing room, trying to call her in vain.

Don't turn around. Don't turn around.

But when he blocked the door to her den, preventing her from taking refuge there, Cooper not only discovered her distress. He saw her eyes red with tears, her hands bruised and, worst of all, fear flooding her irises.

- It's him ?

Y/n's lips began to tremble like never before, not even her legs were still able to keep her upright. So, without her having time to understand what was happening to her, her body abandoned her. Her mind tried to live in denial but nothing else in her could reject the evidence.

It was destroyed. Yet her legs never touched the ground, her body did not shrivel against the wall. Because the warmth of Cooper's arms enveloped her in a feeling she hadn't known in a long time.

Sweetness.

So she forgot everything. The fear, anguish and guilt she felt at being in such a situation. She forgot the pain that ached her arm and shoulders and, instinctively, she hugged him, hoping that this way he would keep her alive.

- You have to leave, Y/N.

Filming had been suspended today and Jim had believed Cooper's lies about feeling unwell. However, she did not return home, remaining locked in this lodge as in a bastion.

Leave ? The idea had already crossed his mind. It would have been so simple if she didn't depend on Travis for a whole bunch of things. Being an actress was not an easy job and the income was irregular at such a stage of her career. So she rejected the idea, shaking her head vehemently.

-I can not do that.

- Of course yes. You can. Just gather your things and go.

- How ? Eh ? Do you think he won't stop me? Really, it's impossible.

Cooper had no intention of stopping there. She knew it. But what could he understand about her life? He who had a happy marriage and whose divorce had gone smoothly? She knew that he was on good terms with his ex-wife for the well-being of his daughter, that this divorce had gone smoothly because they had realized that they no longer aspired to same thing. Barb had been an exemplary wife, their marriage had been based on mutual trust and they had separated on good terms.

So what could he understand about her life? Why did he seem so heavily affected by his situation?

-I will help you.

She raised her head. Had she really heard what he had just suggested to her? A nervous laugh escaped her lips before she stared at his determined expression. Was he serious?

-You go pack your bags and I'll come pick you up.

- To go where ? I have nowhere to go, Coop! My friends don't talk to me anymore and you saw the way he reacted when we...

Her words died in her mouth, realizing that she had called him by his nickname for the first time and that she hadn't completely rejected the idea.

- I can talk to Barb about it. She has friends in the region who will certainly be delighted to host you. He paused, visibly hesitant to finish his sentence.

-There is room at my house.

- At your house ?

There was nothing in her stomach but butterflies trying to escape. Had he really just asked her to live with him? It took her breath away, so much so that she had to blink several times to make sure she was awake.

- You would have your privacy, obviously. But it’s a base not too far from work until you can find a place of your own.

She had grabbed his hands without realizing it, as if to hold on to a rampart before falling into the void. Cooper had just offered to live with him, and the idea brought a little warmth to her completely bruised heart.

- He's not going to like this idea at all.

- But it's the only option for you to get out of this, Y/N. I don't know how you feel about this man, but for your own well-being you need to leave.

She didn't know it. What she did know, however, was the effect Cooper had on her life. It wasn't just savior syndrome. Since seeing him again on that set, something inside her had cracked, a shell that she had tried to erect to prevent herself from loving anyone, including herself.

- It's OK. She finally gave in.

The smile Cooper gave her then would stay in her mind for a long time.

- Should I contact Barb?

- No. It's with you that I want to live.

Realizing too late the fervor of her words, she put her hands over her mouth to prevent her from saying something even worse.

- If you agree, of course...I...I don't want to impose myself. Oh, god, I'm so sorry.

- You no longer have to apologize for being yourself, Y/N. It's all over now.

His hands were still in hers and Y/N wondered why he didn’t take them out as soon as he had the chance. Sitting face to face, they looked at each other in a strange silence, charged with a gentle and soothing tension. A deep relief came over her at that precise moment.

She was going to leave. Leave with Cooper. And she could no longer hold back her tears.

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

- Did you do what I asked you?

- Of course.

No.

She hadn't done any of that. She had neither resigned nor decided to cut ties with anyone. Instead, she came home in the afternoon to pack a suitcase and wait. Wait for the right moment. Travis had a charity event that night. A gala to which he had not invited her. Pretending that she had no place there. So much the better.

This was the perfect opportunity to put the plan into action. This evening, Travis showed no attention towards her. Yet that was what he did when he had obtained satisfaction: a tender gesture, a chaste kiss on her cheek.

He just brushed his fingertips against her shoulder, a movement that sent a jolt of terror through her.

-Don't wait for me to eat, I'll be back very late.

And silence returned almost immediately, freeing his heart from the vice that was compressing it. It didn't take long for her to contact Cooper, take down the suitcase she had hidden in the attic and come back down to the forecourt.

When she finally saw the car appear, a wind of relief chased away the fear that still held her back.

Then she froze.

Terrorized.

It wasn't Cooper's car.

He had come back. He had forgotten something and came back to get it.

- What are you doing here ? His voice was laced with a rage she had never seen before. A destructive, petrifying rage.

- I…Travis…

- What are you doing here with this damn suitcase?

The kick sent the latter flying to the other side of the sidewalk. Usually, Travis didn't show any aggression towards her in public, but this time, discovering her outside with a suitcase in her hand had got the better of his legendary self-control.

-Did you want to leave? Did you want to do this dirty trick to me, little whore?

She was screaming. She hoped that someone would come out of these nice little tidy houses to get her out of there. But nothing. Not a single neighbor wanted to get involved in this carnage and she was going to pay dearly for it.

He pushed her violently, causing her to fall onto the lawn in their garden. The pain pierced her back so violently that it took her breath away, but when his hand grabbed her hair, she screamed so loudly that her voice hoarse.

- Shut your mouth ! Shut your fucking mouth! Piece of…

Travis didn't have time to finish his sentence. Something had stopped him.

A violent shock that had just hit his jaw, forcing him to release his grip on her hair.

-Cooper!

- Get in the car. Hurry up.

She wanted to cry, to stand there and watch Travis wipe the blood from the corner of his mouth. But the fear that still animated her gave her the impetus to flee without looking at what was happening before her eyes.

Cooper had arrived and he had just hit Travis with such force that he could barely keep his balance.

- I'm going to find you, bitch! he exclaimed towards her. But Cooper's hand grabbed him so tightly by the collar that he couldn't take another step.

- You're not going to do anything at all, because if you try to approach her again, I can't guarantee you that I'll settle for a punch.

He violently pushed Travis away, letting him fall to the ground before turning around. At that moment, Y/N became aware of her husband's weakness. He had been merciless with her because she was fragile, that was the only reason he had fun with her.

And it was over.

[ohquail]

School Bus Graveyard but make it Percy Jackson & the Olympians

Cabins:

Aiden: Cabin 11- Hermes Ashlyn: Cabin 6- Athena Ben: Cabin 7- Apollo Logan: Cabin 6- Athena Taylor: Cabin 10- Aphrodite Tyler: Cabin 10- Aphrodite

Abilities/Roles:

Aiden: Pickpocketing Master Ashlyn: Leader Ben: Musician Logan: Battle Strategist Taylor: Charmspeak Tyler: "Curse" (cursing two people to fall in love no matter what)

Ashlyn and Logan walked through the woods, they were playing Capture the Flag with the rest of the camp. Although they weren’t really paying all that much attention to the activity.

“Hey, you guys,” A voice called behind them. It was Aiden, one of the Hermes’ cabin boys. A boy who really liked to hang around Ashlyn for some reason, Ashlyn had yet to figure it out yet.

“What do you want Aiden?” Ashlyn asked, hiding Logan slightly behind her so he could run if need be.

“Nothing. I’m just bored,” Aiden smirked his usual smirk. He was wearing his armor incorrectly over his orange camp tee-shirt and jeans. His knife hung down on his side and his badly bleached hair fell down into his eyes.

“Well, go play the game then,” Ashlyn told him, stepping back. Her hand drifted to her sheathed sword.

“Hold on, I’m not going to hurt you,” Aiden laughed putting his hands up defensively.

“Aiden!” A hispanic pair of twins walked up, “You can’t just run off.” The male one said, as his sister panted from running. Ashlyn recognized them as Tyler and Taylor, two of Aphrodite's kids.

"Why are you chatting with the enemy?"

“He’s not!” Ashlyn assured them, both her and Logan started to slowly back away.

“We were having a great conversation,” Aiden's smirk widened at her reaction. Ashlyn felt Logan tug at her shirt, nodding his head towards where their flag was.

Ashlyn turned, keeping her gaze locked on Aiden and his companions until she was certain they wouldn't follow. Then, she quickly shifted her attention to Logan, their silent communication fine-tuned from years of friendship.

“Hey! Why are you running off?” Aiden laughed, smiling rather weirdly.

“Follow them you idiot! They know where their flag is!” The male twin called.

Ashlyn swore under her breath before she and Logan picked up speed. “I didn’t think they actually had brains,” She told Logan causing him to laugh.

The pair darted through the forest, maneuvering around trees and leaping over rocks with ease. Ashlyn’s long red hair whipped behind her. She could hear Aiden and his companions threading their way clumsily through the underbrush in pursuit, their laughter and banter echoing through the trees.

Looking at Logan, she raised her brows in a silent question. He nodded back, understanding her unspoken query. As they neared a river that bisected the camp, Logan jumped over the bank, followed closely by Ashlyn.

But before she could fully get across a hand grabbed her hair, pulling her back over. “Ow!” She exclaimed, before whipping around and slamming her foot into the side of Aiden, the culprit.

Aiden gasped, doubling over from the impact. His grip on her hair loosened, allowing Ashlyn to yank herself free. “What is your problem?” Ashlyn asked him, her hand on the hilt of her sword.

Aiden staggered back, wincing in pain and holding his side. He looked up at Ashlyn, his red eyes narrowed and his smile a forced shadow of its usual cockiness. The twins ran up behind him.

“Why would you pull on her hair? That’s not very nice, Aiden. Now stand up and get over here,” Taylor said, Ashlyn could tell she was using her charmspeak on the blonde.

Hearing Taylor's command, Aiden stood slowly, grimacing but maintaining his challenging grin. "Well, it's not very nice to kick people either," he retorted, trying to deflect the blame. But the scowl on Tyler's face made it clear that he wasn't buying Aiden's excuse. He grabbed his teammate’s arm and started pulling him away.

"You idiot!" Tyler growled. "Can't you just play the game like a normal person?" Aiden shrugged him off irritably, but didn't resist as they moved back towards their side of the woods.

Aiden struggled to keep himself up as Tyler dragged him away, a sheepish grin plastered on his face. "You guys are no fun," he complained, rubbing his side where Ashlyn had kicked him. His affected bravado was marred by the wince that twisted his features.

Ashlyn watched them retreat, her green eyes flashing with indignation. Beside her, Logan was checking their surroundings, his gaze alert and searching. His light brown hair appeared reddish under the rays of the setting sun filtering through the trees. When he saw that they were alone again, he turned to Ashlyn, offering a comforting smile.

"Are you okay?" he asked, concern etched in his soft blue eyes.

"I'm fine," she replied curtly. She brushed off a few leaves that had stuck onto her orange camp shirt and adjusted her armor. Logan could tell she was shaken up by Aiden’s ambush, but he decided against pressing the matter further.

Instead, he pointed towards the western part of the forest, where their flag lay hidden amidst the foliage. "We'd better get moving. Taylor and Tyler might come back with reinforcements."

[wutheringmights]

I finished rereading The Song of the Lioness quartet by Tamora Pierce a couple of days back. I already talked about the first book in a post that garnered more attention than it deserved. I guess we were all happily reminiscing about the menstruation scenes together, or Tortall fans are so starved for content they (we) will reblog anything.(Understandable. I too am starved for a thriving Tortall fandom.)

I'm too lazy to make separate posts about each book, so we're just going to do a mega post covering the second, third, and fourth book.

Unlike last time, I will be giving a little criticism to this series. I still love it endlessly, but there were a few things about the prose I thought was interesting that I want to talk about a bit.

So, without further ado~

In the Hand of the Goddess

I think this one is my favorite one, despite how rushed the plot it. It contains all of my favorite plot points, like awkward romances with George and Jon, attending knight lessons, and a little summer war. Fun stuff.

But it definitely feels rushed. I really wish someone told Pierce to make this a 12 book series, expanding on Alanna's years at the castle. It would have gone so far to better develop the romances and the friendships in these books.

I am fascinated by what Pierce chose to skim over. Characters would die or kiss for the first time off screen, with the prose resuming with Alanna reacting to it. It demonstrates an understanding of character work that I personally adore and try to emulate in my own writing-- the real bones of a story being in how characters respond to fantastic events as opposed to the fantastic events themselves.

Also, the whole veil spell Roger cast in objectively stupid, and I mean that in the most affectionate way possible. You're telling me that Roger used magic to make Alanna lose interest in doing anything about the obviously evil things he was doing? That's fucking hilarious. You know an editor came back to Pierce and asked her to come up with a reason why Alanna wasn't just going to spring into action at the first sign of Roger trying to kill her, only for Pierce to come up with this. It's so silly. I love it.

Woman Who Rides Like A Man

Did this book age poorly? Yes, but not as badly as I remembered. That's not a stirring defense, and it's really not meant to be.

The Bahzir are a mess of Orientalism, and Pierce definitely deserves criticism for not only the way she wrote them but for the ways in which she frames their cultural practices as something that needs to be fixed. Having Alanna want to force them to change their culture to suit her beliefs is not a great look for both the character and the writer. And that's not even getting into the whole assimilation plotline.

But I did enjoy Pierce's attempts to expand on the definition of womanhood, especially as a part of Alanna learning to embrace femininity. There is this running thread in these last two books of Alanna learning about all the different ways to be a woman and choosing for herself what her gender means to her. It's not done particularly well, and anyone looking for a revolutionary examination of gender roles and identity is going to be sorely disappointed. But there's an attempt here that I can't help but appreciate.

This book is also where Pierce starts to slow the plot down, which lends it to having the most reasonable pacing out of the bunch. That being said, it's also the book where the lack of development for a bunch of the side characters start to hurt. I really wish Gary or Raoul joined Alanna in the desert. Raoul gets his moment in the sun with the Protector of the Small books, but Gary remains largely forgettable. In fact, I spent this entire read-through convinced this man dies at the end of the last book, if only because I can't remember where he appears in any of the other books.

Lioness Rampant

This book somehow has the improved pacing of the third book while still feeling rushed. The quest for the Dominion Jewel really should have been it's own book, if only to give Thayet and Buri more room for development. Thayet in particular really needs her moment to shine, especially when she continues to be an important character in the other series.

But do you know who did get a lot of screen time? Liam.

Remembered shit about this guy before going into this book. I could only vaguely recalled disliking him as a kid, but not as much as I venomously hated Jon. (Speaking of which-- I love the way this man is realistically shitty. Him getting dumped by Alanna is always my favorite scene.) But Liam? Fuck that guy. Holy shit. I give full applause to Pierce for portraying the important milestones every girl goes through growing up, which includes having a situationship that is so shitty that it becomes essential character development.

Roger's return feels very... cheesy? I think Alex should have stepped up to be the final villain on the story. Unlike Roger, Alex was Alanna's friend. They have history. The betrayal would have imbued that final fight with so many more emotions than it ultimately had. I also would have liked Alanna to have at least meaningfully talked to Alex sometime before the climax.

Honestly, it's impressive how reactive Alanna is as a character in the last half of the book. She doesn't seek out how to stop Roger's plan, or fix Thom, or anything. Other characters make plans and she just... waits for something to go wrong.

That being said, by virtue of Alanna's relationships with George, Liam, and Jon all happening sometime in this plot, this book becomes a good place to look to get the full berth of how Pierce handles romances. Which, I love her approach. The romances are never over the top or, for lack of a better word, too romantic. It's very down to earth, with characters dating, marrying, or breaking up for realistic reasons.

Jon and Alanna were friends who broke up because they had different life plans. Liam and Alanna broke up for having fundamentally different values. As much as I bitch about how shitty Jon and Liam are, they're not cartoonishly evil. They're just a little shitty the way most of your exes will be. Jon and Liam are men could find love with someone else. They just aren't suited for Alanna.

Meanwhile, the most romantic things George does are wait for her and be supportive. He doesn't fight or get territorial. He makes his feelings clear, then waits for Alanna's cues. Alanna definitely loves him, but she ends up with him in the end because their lifestyles and core beliefs meld together. There's no grand romantic gesture or whirlwind affairs. They are just a good pair.

I have read stories with far heavier focuses on romance, and none of those couples feel as perfect as Alanna and George. Those stories prioritize all the gooey moments over showing why the main couple should get together. For how little romantic interactions they have, you believe these two could have a successful marriage. Perfect stuff.

---

Over all, I really enjoyed rereading these books. For all my griping, I still love the story. I love Alanna. She's a character who is fundamental to my soul. No matter where I am in life, I will always want to open these books and find her again, to walk back into Tortall and join her on her quest to be a lady knight.

My copies of the series come with forewards from a previous edition. In one of them, Pierce wrote that this series started off as an adult fantasy story that was much darker and edgier. I need to know what that story looks like, what happened in it. Pierce can claim as she wants that she hardly remembers what it looks like, but I refuse to believe that. Release the unedited first draft, Pierce. I am begging you.

[gilbirda]

Friendly neighborhood vigilante. Chapter 21

BatmanxDP crossover. JasonxJazz

[Read on AO3] [Read on FF.net]

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“I’m so sorry.”

“I’m fine.”

“Your ankle is twisted.”

“Is not that bad,” Jazz said for the tenth time. And it really wasn’t, she had worse before, and it would be healed in a few days, tops. She wasn’t in top condition since she had to share her last dose of ectoplasm with him; but that didn’t mean she would let a sprained ankle bother her so easily.

“Are you sure you are okay? Jason is an absolute unit.”

“Hey.”

“What? You know it’s true!”

Dick nodded at Tim. “I almost broke my back trying to carry him piggyback once.”

“Really?” Jazz looked up from where Alfred was kneeling with the first aid supplies. She had already tried to insist she could deal with it herself and had been ignored twice. “Are there photos of that?”

“Sadly, no.”

“Damn.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be on my side?”

Jazz turned to smile at her boyfriend, not-that-secretly enjoying his slightly pink cheeks.

“Hmm?”

Everyone turned to look at Alfred when he hummed. The butler was frowning, eyes fixed on Jazz’s right foot — not in her red and swollen ankle he was about to bandage, but on one of her toes. It was crooked and stood out next to the other perfectly aligned ones.

Oh. Right.

“What happened?”

Jazz felt a bit crowded when the siblings leaned in to see her foot. She could feel their eyes scrutinizing her feet, and she never felt more self conscious before. She could have painted her toenails, at least, but she didn’t find time to do so before the dinner.

“I broke my toe a long time ago.”

Dick wore what she had come to understand was his “that’s nice” smile. She had seen him use it many times during gymnastics class, when he definitely had some comments to say but bit his tongue and said “that’s nice” instead. He had used it with her a few times, but she didn’t hold it against him.

“It didn’t heal fine.” Tim beat him to the comment. Jazz expected it, and sighed.

She gathered her thoughts as Alfred carefully twisted her foot this and that way, not upsetting her injured ankle.

“I was… eight? Ten? I think I was ten years old. I ran upstairs a bit too fast and stumbled with the last step and broke it.” She fixed her eyes on her feet when she continued: “I thought — It was just one toe. I thought I could power through and it would heal on its own.”

Someone tensed. From the corner of her eye she saw Bruce shuffle closer. She didn’t miss his troubled eyes as she ranted about her childhood back at the dinner table.

“Your parents didn’t take you to the hospital?” He asked, trying very hard to mask his horror and disappointment. Cute, but unnecessary.

“They would have, if I had told them.” Why did she get weirdly defensive, even after all these years? “But I knew I couldn’t afford the hassle of getting a toe splint and the bed rest. Danny — We had to eat. The house wouldn’t run by itself.”

Jazz had time to reflect and address how unfair it was for her to assume that role so young. She didn’t help either, trying so hard to be treated like an adult and shoehorning herself into the parenting position; but her parents gave up control to her too easily and faster than what should have been legal.

“So you walked around with a broken toe? For months?”

She didn’t look at Jason, but nodded in response. Memories of the pain coming back to her mind. It hurt so much. It really, really hurt, but she just couldn’t give up. Giving up meant not eating. Meant her grades slipping and having the school call her parents. Meant worrying Danny.

“At the time I was dealing with a lot of pain. It wasn’t until we discovered the long lasting effects of ecto contamination that we realized that the pain Danny and I experienced for the best part of our childhood and adolescence was the ectoplasm changing us from the inside out. I thought it was just growing pains. So I just… ignored it all and moved on.”

It truly was how she lived her life, huh? Ignore the pain and power through. That’s how she dealt with things when she was a kid, how she did during highschool. How she managed to just adapt and give up her dreams so she could become Danny’s pillar and support during the preparation to be King. How she came out in one piece after fighting at his side for so long.

She had always been such a hypocrite — advocating for staying in touch with your inner child, to address mental health, while ignoring her own. Nagging and pushing Danny to not let things accumulate and talk about them with her or with his friends.

And when it was about her? Power through. Ignore. She would have time to work through it later.

A soft touch on her shoulder brought her back to the moment. She breathed out slowly, looking into the eyes of the one person she knew would poke her until she admitted she wasn’t as fine as she thought, and sit with her as she worked through her thoughts.

“I’m okay.” She told Jason with a little smile.

And truly, she was.

Someone cleared their throat, and Jazz jumped, feeling her cheeks burn. Oh, Ancients. She hoped she hadn’t been staring at his eyes for too long.

By the quiet snickers and how the group that had formed around her dispersed, she assumed she did. How embarrassing!

“In any case,” she tried to get back some of her dignity, “that’s the story why the toe looks weird. It healed wrong but,” she shrugged, not really wanting to dwell on that.

“Well,” Alfred continued after a brief tense silence, “we may not have recent pictures of Jason at hand, but I know where the old albums are stored. If you want to see.”

Old albums? As in, Jason when he was a kid?

Jazz perked up at the thought — he must have been such a cute kid! — but looked to check on him if it was okay. Jason was very private and he didn’t talk much about his days at the Manor.

He looked… relaxed? He was lifting an eyebrow and looking at Bruce with a little smile. “I didn’t know you kept the pictures.”

The other man looked a bit tense. “I keep all the pictures of my kids.”

“Awww,” Stephanie leaned over where she was resting over Tim and Bernard’s laps on the other sofa, arching her back to look at Bruce upside down. “Even mine?”

“You are not one of my children, as you like to remind me every day.” Bruce said with a tired sigh, but that made it obvious he was joking.

“Damn right.”

Jazz giggled, a numbing cream Alfred was applying on her ankle tickling her a little. She stayed put as he bandaged her ankle with practiced moves, with just enough compression to support her injured ankle but not enough to cut her blood flow. Jason mentioned that Alfred usually patched them up after patrol.

“Thank you.” She said to the butler when he was done, a conversation about “baby pictures” and half hearted threats flowing around the room.

Alfred smiled at her, softly patted her foot and then gathered the first aid kit stuff and left quietly.

“Picture time!”

Jazz had little time to prepare before Dick dropped a thick album on her lap and sat down on her free side, opening the album on the first page.

The pictures were old and some were shaky and off-focus. They had this homey feeling that reminded her of the days before her parents became obsessed with the portal and family time took a backseat in their lives.

They watched her thumb through the pages and answered questions about the pictures — mostly Bruce, Dick and Alfred — and tried to not crowd her too much. Jason kept himself distanced from the situation, maybe to give her space too, maybe to be able to watch her react to the stories and the pictures of a faraway past. Jazz was polite and showed genuine interest, laughing at the memories with the rest of the group.

Soon they got to the pictures that featured the second addition to the family. Everyone breathed in relief when any reaction from the estranged family member was overshadowed by their guest’s high-pitched squeal.

“So cute!” She murmured, hand hovering over a picture with a much younger Jason covered in bandaids and glaring daggers at the camera.

“It was shortly after he arrived at the manor,” Alfred supplied the information, “and young master Jason didn’t like posing for pictures.”

Her cheeks colored pink, eyes fixed on the picture of a frowning child with curly hair. They watched in silence as she went through the pictures of her boyfriend, wondering what she was thinking. Back then Jason was a completely different person, did she notice the differences? Did she mourn the kid that he was? The man he could have been?

Jazz turned the page and a pile of pictures slid down the album. Jason was the fastest, picking up everything before it hit the floor.

They were Batman and Robin pictures.

“Oh shit,” Tim grumbled, trying to reach for the pictures, “forgot those were there.”

Jason moved his hand, and the pictures, out of his reach.

“I thought I told you to remove them, Master Timothy.” Alfred’s disappointment was perceptible, but his worried glances at Jason’s face minimized the impact.

Everyone held their breath as the man looked at the pictures, smiled, and showed the one at the top of the pile to everybody.

“I forgot how ugly the old uniform was.”

Jazz yanked the picture from his hand and held it close to her chest. “Don’t say that!” She reached for the rest of the pictures. “I liked it.”

“But that’s because you were a groupie.”

“You were a Robin fan?” Bernard jumped at the opportunity to keep the mood light.

“A me fan!” Dick smirked, flipping his hair like a diva. “Our dearest Jasmine was the club president for years!”

“Just two.” She grumbled, face red as a tomato. “And yes, I may or may not have been a Nightwing fan —”

“But you said—”

“I know what I said!” Jazz huffed, keeping her eyes on the pictures. The Robin in those pictures was Dick, given the wavy hair parted on the side. And the giant smile on his face, showing his dimples. “This is so embarrassing.”

“And yet you keep looking.” Did Jason focus on messing with her to ignore everything else? He was as calm and collected as he had been during the whole evening.

“Robin pictures have always been very difficult to come by. Good quality ones, at least.”

Tim smirked, pleased. “Some of my best work, if I do say so myself.”

“These are yours?”

“Yep,” he popped the ‘p’, “although I didn’t catch Dick until his last few months as Robin.”

Jazz hummed in response, eyes still focused on the pictures. “The resemblance is uncanny.” She murmured.

“With?”

“Danny, my brother.” She smiled up at Dick. “He dressed up as Robin one Halloween. Costume was really good, my parents bought the good quality stuff.” She chuckled. “I threw the biggest fit ever — Danny didn’t even like Robin! He thought he was lame and not as cool as Superman. But it was what my parents got him and everyone at school told him he could pass as the real thing; and well, he caved and didn’t give it to me.”

“You wanted to be Robin?” Dick asked, amused.

“Yeah! I was sooo mad. ‘Girls can’t be Robin, Jazzypants’” She scoffed. “Of course my parents weren’t helpful.”

Stephanie hollered, not looking up from her phone screen. “Yeah, girls can’t be Robin. That’s absurd.”

“In the end I went as Wonder Woman, since I didn’t have time to get another costume.”

“You don’t like Wonder Woman?” Jason asked her.

“No, I like her just fine. It’s just—” she sighed, leaning on the backrest of the sofa, gathering her thoughts. “Robin, for me, was more than a celebrity. I was… Growing up, I felt so helpless. Everyday I ended up exhausted and wondering when it would end, counting the days until I turned eighteen and I could take my little brother and leave that house. I think —” her voice got tight for a moment, but she cleared her throat fast, “ — I think that I was a huge fan because Robin was such a capable hero while being a kid like me. If he could do so many amazing things then I could, too.”

Jazz was suddenly pulled into a muscular chest, arms squeezing her so hard she was about to beg for mercy when Dick finally let her go. “That was so nice to hear, my dear number one fan.”

She chuckled, unsure of what to say, feeling everyone’s eyes on her person after such an embarrassing speech. She patted the man’s forearms a few times before moving out of the hug.

“I don’t think I’ve ever shown you guys a picture of my brother. The one with the costume should be somewhere in my childhood house — I remember taking pictures that day — but, here.”

She pulled her phone out and went to the gallery app, quickly finding a selfie of her with Danny. It was at the Nasty Burger and was a bit old, about a year old, but it was safe to show it. No Realms business.

“Tim, he could be your clone.” Bernard murmured, eyes on Jazz’s phone.

Jazz giggled. “Doubt so. We would know”

“What?”

“What?” She answered Tim, a nervous smile on her lips. The other narrowed his eyes, pondering her words, but let it go.

“I can see what you mean about the resemblance,” Dick moved on, “and I’m sure you could have passed as Batgirl, with the red hair. Babs’ is a bit darker, but it’s close enough.”

“I thought about it the next year but Danny said he was ‘too old for trick or treating’ and I also didn’t see the point of spending money on an expensive costume and, well, life happened.” She sighed, going back to the pictures, maybe looking for one of Batgirl. “I should have insisted, who knows. Is in the past now.”

“I mean, if you want the suit, it’s in the basement.”

She gave Dick a look, raising an eyebrow. “No, thank you.”

Dick opened his mouth to insist but he choked with the words, watching Jazz pick the next picture on the pile, showing a much younger Robin. It was Jason, of course, who was pictured running and flying around Gotham’s rooftops.

Everyone watched Jason. Jason watched Jazz.

“You look weird without the white streak,” she smiled up at him, lifting a picture where the kid wearing the bright colored uniform was clear and in frame, placing it next to his scowling face. “Yeah, I think I like you more with the punk hairstyle.”

“It’s a death souvenir.” He said, trying to act nonchalant, but everyone noticed the slight tension in his jaw as he watched her reactions.

“Oh I know. I knew it wasn't dyed since that day in the elevator.” At his incredulous look she added: “I told you. I know death, buddy.”

He rolled his eyes, but picked up the pile of Robin pictures in her hands. Eyes somewhat distant, the now young man went through the pictures without really stopping at any of them.

"These are really good." He commented.

"Thanks…" All Tim got in response was a grunt.

Jazz leaned in to look at the pictures too, one of her hands softly placed on his without drawing attention to the gesture. Jason didn't comment on it either, choosing to continue looking at the pictures.

"Hm." He finally said. "The short pants were a mistake."

Bruce exhaled slowly, realizing he had been holding his breath. Jason looked calm enough, even after everything that happened. Was this a sign that things were going to get better?

“If you hated them so much then you should have changed them,” Jazz’s voice lacked actual bite, and her glare was playful.

“Didn’t have enough time to change anything.” He stopped at a picture where the little kid looked more adolescent. Maybe it was taken the year of his passing. “And I knew Dickolas would flip if I changed the outfit. He hated me—”

“I didn’t—!” Everyone jumped at Dick’s outburst. He shrunk in his seat. “I didn’t hate you,” he started again, softer, “I was mad at Bruce. I shouldn’t have misplaced my anger like that.”

Jason considered his brother for a few seconds, ignoring everyone’s stares, and nodded. Without any other comment, he turned towards his girlfriend and asked:

“What did you think about the second Robin? Wasn’t he also a child hero?”

Bruce didn’t know what hurt more; that he spoke of that child like he was a stranger, or that “hero” was obviously not Jason’s first choice of words.

Jazz snorted and looked down at the picture of a serious-looking fifteen year old Jason Todd wearing the Robin costume.

“I hated him.” She answered in the middle of a tense silence. “He wasn’t as funny.”

Bernard was the first one to break into incredulous giggles, shortly followed by Stephanie. The rest watched in horror, waiting for the trainwreck to happen, unsure what to do at their guest’s statement.

Jason blinked once, twice, and joined the laughter as he grasped Jazz’s face with one hand, squishing her cheeks.

“You are weird.”

“And I’m right. You weren’t as funny.” Her words were almost incomprehensible since she couldn’t move her jaw.

“What are you talking about? I’m hilarious.” He leaned in, pulling her towards him so their faces were very close. His smile wasn’t kind but the corner of his lip twitched with amusement. “You love my death puns.”

Jazz rolled her eyes. “I’ve heard every death joke under the Sun. You are not special.” She said as best as she could articulate.

Everyone saw the young man’s eyes travel down her face to her lips, and what was once a tense silence became charged with the obvious attraction between the couple. If there was ever a doubt they cared for each other, it was gone now.

But instead of kissing, he let her go and leaned back to his lounging position. Jazz chuckled and let her body fall so she could let her head rest on his shoulder. She picked up the picture, admired it for a few seconds and gave it back to Dick to put it with the others in the pile.

“Thanks for showing me these,” she gestured at the album. Whatever else she was going to say was drowned by a big yawn she hid behind her hand.

“I think—”

“You guys could stay the night.” Bruce interrupted Jason. He smiled nervously. “I mean, it’s late and,” he vaguely gestured towards Jazz’s bandaged foot. “Alfred could give you a lift tomorrow.”

It was easy to see through the attempt, even for those that knew Bruce the least.

“Everything is as you left it. Your room—”

“Are you fucking serious?”

“Or I can prepare a guest room immediately.” Alfred manifested out of thin air, having left during the picture time to tend to his duties.

Jazz looked up at her boyfriend’s face, worried. She picked his hand but stayed leaning on his side, maybe hoping her weight kept him grounded. Jason was very tense, and she could feel his breaths grow quicker and shallow.

“You can show me your room another day.” She muttered, unsure if it was the correct thing to say.

He looked down at her eyes, searching for something. Exactly what he wanted, she didn’t know; but Jazz held his gaze with determination, letting him know she would follow his lead with whatever option he chose. If he really didn’t want to stay, she was fine with riding back to their apartment with her injured foot.

Jason clicked his tongue and breathed deeply once. “My old room is fine. Just for tonight.”

Goodbyes were brief and hasty, the mood ruined after the uncomfortable exchange. Tim left with Bernard and Stephanie, since the couple was giving her a ride home, and Dick decided to stay the night as well. Duke made a tactical escape to his room with barely saying good night. Cass disappeared for a moment and came back wearing her pajamas, picking up Jazz’ bag and discarded shoe to bring back to Jason’s old room, leaving a spare pajama set for Jazz on the bed by Alfred’s orders.

Bruce watched all happen from his loveseat with a worried face. He glanced at Damian as he passed by with Titus behind him, both coming back from the dog's last walk of the day.

“They are staying the night?” His son asked when he approached, watching Jason pick up the young woman in his arms.

The older man smiled at her blushed face and embarrassed antics at being carried like a princess. “It seems so.”

Damian considered the situation and nodded, his thoughts concealed. Bruce was positive his youngest’s opinion of the new addition to the family changed during the evening; but he didn’t know how Damian felt regarding having Jason back. His son didn’t deal well with change, even less when it was regarding family dynamics, and he was worried about the whole situation.

For the moment everything seemed okay — Damian nodded again and went upstairs to his room without asking anything else.

And so, Bruce was left alone with Alfred.

“I like her.”

The butler hummed at his master’s words. “Shall I prepare a new suit, Master Bruce?”

That finally made the man laugh. “She’s not a vigilante, Alfred.” He said when he calmed down. “I wouldn’t drag her deeper into this life than she already is.”

Alfred gave Bruce a look, lifting one thin eyebrow, like he knew better but was biting his tongue.

---

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[brainrockets]

Some of the Suvi critics out there are... something. I mean, I get it if you don't enjoy media because of unpleasantness. I very definitely avoided Succession because it squicked me deeply.

So if Suvi squicks ya out. Like sure fine. But some of the interpretations of Suvi being irredeemable or 'not showing signs' that she might be 'redeemable' are just weird? To me?

I mean. I also was raised in one of the cristofascist American evangelical death cults and had to deprogram and unlearn a lot in my 20s and have done a lot of work to be in a healthy space now so... maybe I just have sympathy for being 20 and just suddenly seeing cracks appear in the way you understand yourself and the world around you?

One thing people seem real perturbed by is Suvi's behavior towards Ame (and Ame's seeming lack of correction of that behavior).

And I think there are a few things at play here.

1. Suvi was raised in a highly ordered hierarchy as a soldier from early childhood.

2. Ame is a witch of the heart and has been handling all manner of village nonsense and nonsense people for years.

3. Suvi has not had ANY sort of psychological safety or release since maybe the Cottage. She is more afraid of Steel than Orima.

4. Ame is worried about Suvi. Worried about the way she killed without trouble. The way she's not allowed herself to express feelings for the most part other than anger.

5. When you have a lot of feelings and no safe way to let them out. They still come out. Usually inappropriately. Often paradoxically they get vented on people you feel safe with. Not to say that's acceptable or good but it is pretty normal?

6. Paradoxically, while Ame is safe to be mad at, perhaps subconsciously, Suvi also views Ame as a threat. And she's not wrong. Ame is a huge threat to her. Ame threatens to upend everything that Suvi believes about herself, about magic, about her world. She also plays by different rules and has actively exposed Suvi to risk by divulging things Suvi wanted to keep private. (Not with malice but definitely flagrantly flouting basic rules because she doesn't know they exist.) She also is a threat to the defenses Suvi has built around herself in the wake of her parents' deaths. The way that she has used the notion of the Citadel's correctness as a shield against the pain of loss.

7. I think Ame has dealt with wounded animals and wounded people fairly regularly in her role as apprentice. I think that Ame knows that wounded creatures snap at someone even if they are trying to help. Snapping back at her isn't maybe the move right now. And she has expressed dissent, she's not leaving her nonsense totally alone. She's just carefully cutting away little pieces of net and tutting at her raging and getting a little closer each time. And when Suvi finally lets herself cry instead of rage, Ame reacts with the same patient care she'd use with an injured animal.

8. Also, i do think people are missing Suvi's actions behind her words. Particularly vis a vis redeemable qualities. She does talk mad shit and she says some truly terrible things. But her actions are in conflict with her words. She abandoned her training and her responsibility to help Ame break her curse. He outfitted her friends from the armory and rented out a whole floor of an inn just to be kind. She's kept silent on Honored Friends the entire time she's been at the Citadel. Steel told her to stay and wait but she ran after Ame anyways. She was making a lot of threats but now that Eursulon has promised to free the Great Spirit her only issue with helping do it is that Steel might kill her first. She is ready to throw down for her friends with extreme prejudice.

She's at a crossroads. I find it very hopeful. But like again, I relate pretty heavily to being young and afraid and angry as the world opens up before you and everything you thought you knew is wrong and harming people. Knowing there's a chasm and on one side is your family and your community and on the other side is the unknown and your friends.

[wooahaeruby]

Chapter 32: Two Sides of the Same Coin

Chapter Word Count: 4,052

TW

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“Roles are reversed compared to the first time I met you.” 

He watched Mouse frown before her brow softened and a laugh left her. “Yeah, I guess they are.” 

“So…You want to talk?” 

Standing from his office chair, Mouse shuffled her way to the couch, sitting on the other end. She rewrapped herself in the blanket, getting comfortable before she simply…stared at him. 

“I got you good.” She snickered, eyeing the bruise on his face. 

He huffed a laugh and nodded. “Proud of that one?” 

“Little bit, yeah. I think it was a well deserved punch for the moment.” 

Swallowing his pride, Seungcheol turned to her, sitting crisscrossed. “I don’t expect you to forgive me for what I said. It was childish of me to infer that you were trying to make your way to the top, I am really sorry for that. The moment I said it, I wanted to take it back. I’m also sorry for inferring that you didn’t care about the guys. I know you do, I know you care for the guys so much and you’ve done nothing in the last months of knowing you to show you didn’t care or anything to break our trust. Thinking back…I realized I held jealousy for the attention and affection you showed them. I felt left out in all honesty.” 

He watched as Mouse nodded along to his words, sitting quietly as he spoke.  

“I know it’s weird telling you that I like you. I know that I need to regain your trust, and I know things get complicated with Joshua, Jeonghan in the mix, and you. It’s all…complicated and I'm going to stop myself before I continue to ramble…” 

“This reminds me of when Jeonghan and I got into a fight in a way.” She started, shaking her head. “I told him that I couldn’t hate him. However, with him, I said I wanted to punch him. With you, I got to punch you.” 

That was good, right? Not hating him? Right? 

“Like I said, I’ve been called a lot of things in my life, bullying was the worst, but hearing you of all people, someone I’d even call a friend at that point, insinuating I was whoring myself around when in actuality I was listening to Hongjoong ramble on for an hour about the youngest in Ateez and how they are a menace to society. Chris was talking about some show he and Felix were watching and if I’ve seen it. For one thing, Hongjoong is gay, look at him. Hand flick and all, fruit variety. The sign is bright and blinking. Chris was just fucking around.” 

Mouse huffed, crossing her arms over her chest, sitting back against the armrest of the couch. “And it wasn’t even Hongjoong’s idea to get you mad, this is Siyeon’s fault-” She froze and one of her hands clamped over her mouth. 

Blinking once, twice, Seungcheol stared at her. “Excuse me?” 

“Nothing- You didn’t hear anything-” 

“Siyeon came up with this idea?” 

“Cheol, don’t-” 

He pulled his phone from his pocket, standing up, ready to lay into Siyeon when the device was pulled from his hands. 

“You don’t get to kill my friend!” Mouse held the phone away from him, sending him a glare. “Even if she caused this mess.” 

“I’m gonna kill her, Mouse.” He reached for his phone but she was quick to drop her down her sweatshirt, crossing her arms. 

“No, you can’t.” 

Sending her a tired glare, Seungcheol huffed out an annoyed sigh. “Give me my phone.” 

“Hm…No.” Mouse shook her head. 

“Give me my phone, please.” 

“Nah.” 

“Maybe I don’t like you and I hate you.” 

“Sure, Jan.” She snickered. “Now sit down, I wasn’t done talking.” 

He stared her down, but deep down he knew that he wasn’t going to win this battle. Seungcheol flopped into his seat, pouting like a child, narrowing his eyes at her. “I’m gonna kick her ass.” 

“I’m sure you will.” Mouse scoffed a laugh, pulling his phone from her shirt and placing it in her lap. “But yes, Siyeon did admit to me that this all was…her fault, but in her defense, she stated that it would help us realize something .” 

“Oh…” The pout he wore faded and his cheeks flushed. He avoided Mouse’s gaze, sinking into the cushions. “That…makes sense at least.” 

“Seungcheol,” His eyes snapped to look at her, seeing the apprehension behind her eyes. “I’m somewhat sure of what my feelings are for you. I was happy being friends with you, talking with you, and getting to know you, and anything more than that involves longer conversations with Jeonghan and Joshua. I can forgive you, I think kicking your ass in a fighting ring was beneficial for me at least. I don’t want to rush things. I don’t want you to get your hopes up so quickly. However, I think the three of you need to have a conversation that I am not present for. I think it would be best to…air some grievances between you guys.” 

“So you want Joshua to hit me again?” Raising a thick brow, he did hold some hope in his heart, both for his relationship with Joshua and his relationship with Mouse. 

Mouse laughed at that, shaking her head. “I think I can talk him down from another fight as long as you don’t fuck up like that again.” 

“Trust me when I say I will never pull shit like that again. I promise that on SVT.” 

“I’ll hold you to that promise, Cheol.” She gave a smile before a yawn was wrecking through her. “God damn it. I should go back to bed.” 

“I think we both should.” 

Standing up, Seungcheol waited for Mouse to move, watching her stand up, securing the blanket around her before handing his phone back. In a comfortable silence, the two exited the office, heading down the hall to their respective rooms. He stopped at the door to the room she claimed, sliding his hands into his pockets as he waited for her to go in. 

“Goodnight. Hopefully we can both get some sleep.” She whispered, slowly cracking the door open, hoping to keep the noise to a minimum with how light of a sleep Jeonghan was. 

He snickered under his breath, nodding. “Goodnight, Mouse. I’ll see you in the morning.” 

Once the door was fully closed behind her, he placed himself against the wall, sighing with a stupid smile spread on his face. He scoffed at himself, shaking his head, knowing his heart was definitely beating out of his chest. 

He was going to make it up to her, he was determined to, especially with her acknowledgement of feelings. While the thought of talking with Joshua was going to be hard with the other man only talking business when necessary, Seungcheol was ready to face whatever Joshua had to say. 

Hopefully Jeonghan would be a decent mediator between the two…

“Why did you call a meeting with the three of us?” Jeonghan strolled into the warehouse office, a hop to his step and curious lilt to his voice. 

Joshua trailed in behind Jeonghan, hands shoved into his trouser pockets, a deadpanned, almost uninterested gaze on his face. Seungcheol sighed, standing and nodding his head to the door.

“Lock it, we need to chat.” 

Though his head was tilted with interest, Jeonghan did as he was told before placing himself at his usual spot at the conference table. Joshua followed, sitting across from his friend while Seungcheol sat at the head, clearing his throat. 

“Mouse…said we should talk.” He started, flicking her gaze between his friends, gauging their reactions. 

“She did?” While both answered the same, Jeonghan was surprised while Joshua held apprehension in his tone. 

“Yeah. The other night she asked if she and I could talk and we did, but she also said that the three of us should talk.” 

“The other night?” The youngest of the three looked to Jeonghan who slyfully looked away. “When?” 

“What can I say? You are a heavy sleeper. She usually slips out when you are absolutely gone, dude.” 

Shooting the middle of the three a glare, Joshua bit his tongue. Jeonghan hummed, resting an elbow on the table, head in hand, and smiling deviously at Seungcheol. 

“So, Cheolie~ What did this conversation entail?” 

“I apologized for what I said, stating it was childish of me and some other things.” He was being vague, he knew it, but Seungcheol didn’t want Jeonghan all up in his business just yet. “It was a simple conversation of building trust up again, how I felt, stuff like that. She said she can forgive me.” 

“Anything else?” Jeonghan probed, eyes gleaming with interest. 

“Nothing I’m going to say to you right now.” Seungcheol rolled his eyes, “But she thinks that we should talk and air out our issues and concerns.” 

“Concern number one!” Jeonghan piped up, leaning closer to Seungcheol. “Do you actually like Mouse?” 

“Yeah. I do, in fact, like her.” 

“Hm, so those lunches you took her to were…dates?” 

“Oh my god, Han, shut up.” Joshua sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Cool, so you like her, what makes you think that liking her will get you anywhere with her?” 

“I’m not concerned about that.” Seungcheol started matter-of-factually, folding his hands on the table. 

“Why? Why?” Jeonghan’s eyes were wide like a child at a candy store. “Why are you not concerned?” 

“Jeonghan! Why are you so fucking eager about this?” Hitting his hand on the table, Joshua rose to his full height. 

The heavy roll of Jeonghan’s eyes had Seungcheol puzzled, stunning at the sudden outburst from the usually calm one of the three. Jeonghan turned to face Joshua, sitting back in his seat.

“Unlike you, Joshua, I’m content with my relationship. I don’t fear Mouse flirting and I don’t fear Mouse going off and cheating. You were the only curveball but I saw it from a mile away and purposely got you together. I trust Mouse to communicate with me, just as she put trust in you and I to do the same.” Jeonghan let a sigh puff out from his chest. “If Mouse does like Seungcheol, I don’t see a problem with that, because I’m happy if she is happy, and I’m not concerned about either of you stealing her from me.” 

“In my defense, I don’t want to steal her-” 

“Stay out of this, Cheol.” Joshua snapped. “Jeonghan, don’t assume that I’m insecure about my relationship with Mouse. I trust Mouse because I understand where you are coming from in regards to this relationship. I don’t trust him with our girlfriend because I don’t know what’s going to come out of his stupid fucking mouth..” 

Throwing his hand out, Joshua pointed at Seungcheol, eyes never leaving Jeonghan. The latter rolled his eyes once more, scoffing a laugh under his breath. The more the conversation went on, the more stunned Seungcheol became, eyebrows furrowed together with his mouth agape. 

“Yeah, totally not insecure. Are you jealous, Shua?”

Taking a breath and dropping his hand back to the table, Joshua tried to calm down. “I’m not jealous, but I’m terrified right now.” 

That had Jeonghan frowned, sitting straight. Seungcheol shook his head, joining in the frowning at Joshua. 

The leader cleared his throat, righting himself. “Terrified? Dude, what's going on?” 

Joshua swallowed thickly, letting his eyes shift between Jeonghan and Seungcheol. There was something internal he was fighting, his arms and shoulders tight with tension before his shoulders dropped. “Since…her apartment got broken into, I’ve had this uncomfortable pit in my stomach. I feel like I’m being watched when I know I’m not. I’ve had guards everywhere and they are finding nothing. I’m having Wonwoo check street cameras and he is finding nothing. Something doesn’t seem right and I’m terrified. I haven’t been this scared since Shownu and Kihyun kicked your ass into the hospital, Cheol.”

“Josh..” Seungcheol stood and pushed his seat back, dropping his shoulders. He reached out and placed a hand on the other’s shoulders. “Why didn’t you say anything sooner?” 

“Because I’m worried that it’s nothing, meaning I’m just hallucinating, and I’ve been trying to be there for Mouse while she is going through all this bullshit.” 

“Is that why you’ve been with Wonwoo all the time?” Jeonghan questioned, a frown still plastered on his face, only for Joshua to nod. 

Seungcheol gave a squeeze to his friend’s shoulder, hoping to provide some comfort for the anguish he has been silently going through. 

“What was it that you said back when Jeonghan and I were arguing about Mouse?” Seungcheol thought for a moment, wracking his brain. “Oh! ‘ We are brothers. We stick together, we figure things out together, and we don’t let the others get hurt.’ We have your back, we have Mouse’s, and we will figure this all out. I know you are still probably mad at me, but you can always come to me when you need something.” 

“I sounded pretty smart back then.” 

“Back then? It has only been a few months!” Jeonghan laughed, seemingly lightening the mood. 

“Oh.” Seungcheol chimed in. “Would this be a bad time to tell you guys that Siyeon was the one that set up Hongjoong and Chris to flirt with Mouse?”

“All I’m saying is that coming back to work with a pile of paperwork wasn’t what I wanted.” Strolling into Seokmin’s office and closing the door behind you, you tossed the file onto his desk, falling into the seat across from him. “Hi.” 

“Good afternoon, honey.” He hummed, peering over his glasses rims to see you. “And I didn’t place those there, that was the big boss above me.” 

You gave a pout, brushing some hair from your face. “Of course it was.” 

“I heard down the grapevine that three of our friends had a private meeting.” 

You sat up straight, beaming. “Really? They actually talked?” 

“I mean, when I saw them last night they were laughing together for the first time since the thing.” 

“You aren’t fucking with me, right?” 

He snickered, shaking his head. “Why would I do that?” 

“Because you are my best friend and you are friends with Hannie.” 

“Valid but no, I am not fucking with you.” He sat back in his desk chair, pushing his glasses further up his nose. 

“That’s good.” A small weight lifted from your shoulders, easing some of the tension that was held in your muscles. “That’s great.”

“Also, your building got fitted with the new security systems now. No one can get into the main parts of the building without a personal code which I am having everyone set up. All of the apartment doors have keypads now. I’m working on the parking garage but that takes more time.” 

Nodding along, you sighed, a smile on your face. “Thank you, really.” 

“I added more security to your apartment.” That had you tilting your head. “I know you don’t really like living in the penthouse, it’s a lot, especially with all of us going in and out at odd hours. I had our guys put an extra lock on the inside of the door and when you want to go back, Wonu wants your permission to add some panic buttons.” 

“I’ll…” You paused. “Yeah, I might want to try and go this weekend, but I’ll probably ask Hannie and Shua to come and stay with me.” 

Seokmin snickered. “I mean, Cheol is always there too.” 

“Oh god, shut up.” You rolled your eyes, slouching once more. “Him and I…still need to figure everything out. But him talking with the other two is a good step.” 

“Anyways,” Seokmin started, “When’s your first official date?” 

“Goodbye.” Standing up, you shook your head as he laughed. “I’ll see you later.”

“Are you sure?” Jeonghan held your hand, standing in front of your apartment door. 

Joshua put his arm over your shoulder, one of your bags slung over his other shoulder. “We can always turn around and head back.”

“No!” You shook your head. “Sorry, no. I’m okay.” 

“Y/N, is that you?” Ms. Nina’s voice had you perking up, looking past Jeonghan to see the woman. “Oh it is! Look at you.” 

Shuffling over, she shooed Jeonghan out of the way, which he gladly parted from you for, letting the older woman fawn over you. Joshua removed his arm, watching with a small, amused smile as she took your face into her hands, moving you all about. “I have been so worried about you and that friend of yours that owns the building has been so sweet in getting new security and making sure everyone is comfortable.” 

“Hi, yeah, hello.” Your shoulders dropped, along with the tension you had, and you managed to smile. “He is very sweet, one of my best friends. Speaking of other friends, Ms. Nina, this is Jeonghan and Joshua, my boyfriends.” 

She paused, looking at you before looking at the taller men staring close. “Hm.” Was all she managed to give along with a tilt of her head. 

“Oh- Oh my god.” Jeonghan nearly dropped your bag, elbowing Joshua before they both were bowing their heads respectfully.

“There it is.” She laughed, placing her hands on your shoulders and laughed, all sweet and happy. 

“Huh?” You peered at your boyfriends’ bowed heads before looking back at her.

“We heard you left the country.” Joshua lifted his eyes and she laughed once more. 

“Oh lift your heads, no need to be so formal after all these years.” Waving the two off, she winked at you. “Let’s talk inside, shall we?” 

Swallowing your anxiety, you looked to the apartment door, knowing you hadn’t been back since the day you went to make sure what was lost. You never asked the state in which the apartment was left in…

“Go on, you got them and me with you.” Ms. Nina gave a small pat to your back. 

With Seokmin having set your door code, you reached out with a shaky hand, tapping in the code. A beep followed with the sound of the lock turning, leaving a silence that filled the hallway. Turning the handle, you pushed the door open, much like you did the night you returned home from the ball. With your eyes closed, you reached in blindly to flip the hallway light on.

“Oh you boys were busy.” Ms. Nina said, followed by Jeonghan snickering. 

“Come on~ Open your eyes.” Jeonghan placed a kiss on your cheek, “We promise it’s okay.” 

Mustering the courage, you cracked your eyes open, sucking in a deep breath that you held deep within your chest. 

Inside, the apartment was clean, no longer littered with fragments of torn furniture and broken items. Long gone was the smashed TV, replaced with a new one now mounted on the wall from where you stood in the entrance. 

Stepping forward into the apartment, you let your eyes continue to wonder about, taking in the new items. Your old computer desk was gone, replaced with an L-shaped one with a new set up of monitors and a sleek, new and shiny computer tower sitting in the corner of the desk. The books and small decor items were either replaced or placed almost back in their proper places. The picture frame with your graduation pictures was new, sitting where it originally was on your computer desk. 

The sound of the door shutting had you jumping out of your skin, being calmed by Ms. Nina’s hand on your back and a smile on her face for an apology. 

“Hannie…Shua…” Looking back to them, both simply smiled, kicking their shoes off to follow you inside. “What did you do?” 

“Us? Baby, you have a whole army behind you.” Jeonghan laughed. “Between us, ATZ, and-” 

“Ahh-” You cut him off, panic written on your face as you motioned to Ms. Nina. “Shut the fuck up?!” 

“Oh, sweetie, you don’t need to worry yourself over that.” She laughed, pinching your cheek which only had you even more confused. 

“Ms. Nina…or Rheia, as we know her, knows very well the work we do.” Joshua stepped in, lifting your chin and kissing your forehead before he was walking in and dropping your bag on the couch. 

“Wait-” You held your own face now, eyes wide when staring at her. “You-” 

“A long thirty years with Psy when we were younger.” She hummed, glancing around. “I knew the instant you showed up in that dress what business you were involved with. Seeing that little friend Jongho of yours wasn’t hard to piece things together after.” 

“And you know-” 

“When MX and us branched off, Psy helped us, and she was there helping him for a while more in a consultant type position.” Jeonghan hummed.

“Ay, don’t knock these old bones, I still do.” She scolded, seeing Jeonghan snicker.

“Holy fuck, I’m surrounded by you people.” 

“ Rheia, what are you doing in the city?” Joshua ignored your internal breakdown. 

“Well for one, I can’t leave those idiots alone with the new guy Psy put in charge, he still needs a lot to learn, that’s why Psy is still around and so am I. Secondly, I’m only here for a little while longer, I’ll be heading to my winter home down south soon until the new year.” 

“Is that why you always leave for Christmas?!” You quietly screamed to yourself, leaning yourself back against the couch. “Wait- Mother fuckers!” 

Turning, you pointed at both Joshua and Jeonghan then motioned around. “Do not tell me you all-” 

“Hey- whoa.” Jeonghan put his hands up. “This was a collaborative task. Us, ATZ, 99 line, and DC helped pitch in. We sourced everything legally and stuff was collected from extras…sales…everything like that…” 

You moved quickly, pulling open the cabinets in your kitchen, seeing the similar dishware to your original ones. Moving once more, you shuffled down the hall and threw the bathroom door open. It was clean, no longer ruined with a shredded mattress and old bed frame, your clothes, and personal items destroyed around the room. A new vanity was where you old one ways and a stack of new make up piled together with a bow on top. The closet was fixed with your belongings away and clothes properly hung up, even the dress from the ball.

Wait- 

“Which one of you got me a bigger bed?” 

Walking back into the living room, Ms. Nina, Jeonghan, and Joshua were sitting in the living room. 

“Guilty.” Jeonghan raised a hand, sending a wink your way. “Listen, if we are adding Seungcheol into this-” 

“I never agreed-” Joshua cut in. 

“Shut up, I wasn’t talking to you,” Jeonghan silenced him before continuing. “Anyways, we could barely fit comfortably if we tried so I sized it up to a king-” 

“You are dating some interesting men, sweetheart.” 

“Oh, tell me about it.”

"We know you don’t like when we do everything over the top, but was everything okay here?” Jeonghan had his head resting on your shoulder, both of you waiting for Joshua to come join the pile in bed.

Laying on your back, you nodded, carding a hand through his hair slowly. “You didn’t have to, none of you did…but I appreciate it a lot, Hannie.” 

“When we asked who wanted to help, it turned into who didn’t want to help.” Entering the room, now comfortable in his pajamas, Joshua slid into bed on your other side, draping an arm over your waist and resting his head on the pillow. “Wonwoo got the computer stuff with Cheol. DC got all the makeup and clothes, fixed the closet. Jongho managed to find similar dishes and got the guys to get the couch and TV. The guys of 99 line were helping get your books since your old ones were ruined…” 

“I’ll have to thank them later.” You yawned, feeling Jeonghan pull the covers up snuggly. “For the first time in a while…I think I might sleep through the night.” 

“Good, I don’t want you getting up.” Jeonghan hummed, his face getting pressed comfortably into your neck. “Goodnight, love. Night, Shua.” 

Joshua bid you both a goodnight, followed not long with you, drifting peacefully into the night of slumber.

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[justsome-di]

The Fairest of All Stars: Chapter 11

Andy didn’t mean to become a pirate captain, but after killing the captain of her ship, she finds herself thrust into the role. Years after the incident, she is fierce and feared and recovering from a tropical fever that wiped out half her crew.

Just as they’re about to dock, they find an injured siren left behind by her choir. Andy, drawn to her, pulls her onto the ship and decides to keep her there until she recovers. But with the Navy hunting for both pirates and sirens, Andy has just made her ship an even bigger target for an iniquitous captain looking for revenge.

Warning for suicidal thoughts and violence. Will contain mature scenes.

Also available for free on Patreon (paid members are five installments ahead and will get exclusive bonus stories) and on AO3. If you enjoy reading Stars please consider leaving a comment on AO3, Patreon, or reblogging these chapters! Follow for more updates!

“Pinkey, you better have a genius plan in that beautiful brain of yours.”

Pinkey was busy looking over the edge of the ship, too absorbed in the unsettled waters to respond to Andy.

“Pinkey,” Andy snapped. "Get it together.”

He looked up finally. His usual carefree and cheery disposition had been replaced with a haggard face and tired eyes. He had clearly been up all night. Most likely working out some sort of plan for the ship.

Andy steeled herself. She needed him more than ever.

“What did you think up?” Andy said.

Pinkey’s gaze went from Andy to Syan to the rest of the crew around him, as if taking in the weight that all of their lives were depending on him. A full dozen men were waiting for him to speak. Andy wished she could have told him not to worry so much. If they died, they died. There was no way to prevent it at this point. It wouldn’t be his fault.

She wished she had the courage to tell him that. It wouldn’t be his fault.

Pinkey squared his shoulders. “It’s not a foolproof plan.”

“I’m not asking it to be.”

There was an eerie silence on the water. Despite being so close to the Navy ship—they could now clearly see the men marching along their deck in their blue suits and silly, stupid white powder wigs.

“Here’s my plan,” Pinkey said. He gestured to Syan. He pressed his hands together like he was praying. “It involves you, Syan. You’re really going to be the reason we get out of this alive—if we do get out of this alive. How many men do you think you can take down?”

All the men stared at Syan. She stared back. Andy wanted to rescue her, and she was ready to jump to her defense. Syan wasn’t their fighting machine, she would have said. They weren’t going to use her as a weapon, ask her to risk her life for them. Andy was going to deflect and ask Pinkey to continue detailing the plan without Syan’s involvement.

But Syan spoke up first.

“None,” she said.

Pinkey’s eyebrows drew together. “None?”

“I think you’ve all been misled.”

“What does that mean?” Tobi asked. Though the question was for Syan, he glared at Andy. “We’ve been misled?

“I’m not the type of siren you’ve heard stories about. I’m not strong. My singing isn’t powerful. I’m sort of… the runt of the litter. I won’t be much help.”

There were groans and swears. Pinkey’s face fell. Joseph closed his eyes and nodded as if he had suspected the whole thing.

“Just our luck we’d get a defective siren,” Tobi said. “And very convenient you kept that from everyone until now.”

“Hey,” Andy snapped. “This isn’t her fault. What was she supposed to do? Tell a ship of strangers that she’s actually weak and vulnerable on top of being injured?”

“I think she got what she wanted from us, and now she’s going to slip away the first chance she gets. I say we hand her over to save our skin.”

To Andy’s relief and shock, everyone turned angry eyes at Tobi. Especially Pinkey.

“Bastard!” Syan spat.

“Tobi,” Andy yelled. “I swear to fucking God, the only reason I’m not killing you right now is because we need bodies against them! You’re fucking useless as anything else. Pinkey, please continue your plan.”

Pinkey continued. “Uh, well, we all need to save our ammunition. No one shoot at long range. Wait until you can guarantee a good shot. Even if that means waiting for them to get on the ship. Even if it means they’re drawing first.

“When we’re out of bullets, switch to swords. Don’t let them corner you. Everyone stays tight together in the middle of our ship. Partner up. Have each other’s backs.”

“If you fuck over one of us, you fuck over all of us,” Andy added. “Put some damage on their men. When they return, we’re going to make sure that everyone knows that they faced us.”

She wasn’t expecting to gear up for such a motivational speech, but there she was. All eyes were on her. Pinkey’s face turned bright, excited.

Especially Syan’s. Her eyes were wide, captivated at seeing Andy’s passion for the first time.

Andy really had been a pretty shit captain for a while. It was time she started acting like she was leading all those men.

“It’s not about coming out alive,” Andy said. “It’s about putting up a fight. We are not going to surrender like some cowards. We are not going to let them think that we’re a weak, meager pirate crew. Their egos are already bloated enough as it is. They don’t need to believe that we buckle under the pressure of their presence alone. We let them know that we’re here for a fight.”

The men cheered. Syan clapped her hands.

“Don’t let them win before they’ve killed every last one of us. Even if we only fight for five minutes—we make sure they’re a damn good five minutes.”

The men’s faces reddening and their brows sweating in fear, in anticipation, in excitement. If they were all going to their deaths—at least they were going together.

Andy gripped her sword at her side. Her pistol was heavy in her coat pocket. They’d be lucky if they lasted five minutes, but Andy’s watch had broken months ago so there would be no way for her to know.

Pinkey handed Syan a saber. She tightened her hand around the hilt. Her knuckles paled from the force.

“You can still hide—“ Andy began.

“No,” Syan said. “I’m not hiding.”

“The more men, the better,” Pinkey said. He squeezed Syan’s arm. “Remember everything I’ve taught you.”

“You’ve barely taught me anything.”

“Hold on tight and slash,” Pinkey said. “That’s all you need today.”

He looked a bit sad. Andy couldn’t blame him. His instructions were on how to be desperate, how to try to live. It’s how everyone first learned how to wield a sword. Swing it at whoever’s coming toward you. Don’t lose it. Because there are moments where something is better than nothing and that something had to harness brutal, feral energy to make up for lack of technique.

Pinkey took Syan’s wrist and elbow, helping her support the sword.

“Use the weight of the saber to your advantage,” he said. “It’s all going to be in your shoulders. Follow through with your motion with your whole body.”

He guided Syan’s arm in a slow swing. Andy didn’t get jealous this time.

She looked at the rest of her men. They were hyping themselves up. They went through some motions with the swords and checked their guns. Whatever little ammunition and gunpowder they all had left would be used.

And then her eyes settled on Syan. They settled on the sharp angle of her jaw and the curve of her high cheekbones. The chestnut coloring of her complexion. Her long eyelashes that rested on her freckled cheeks as she looked down at Pinkey’s hands wrapped around her arm.

Syan’s skin, when she had first come on board, was gray. It had looked like watery mud from the ocean, ashen and sickly. But it had since brightened in the sun and tanned beautifully. Freckles had popped out over her face and over the tops of her shoulders. They painted her cheeks and nose like a mask for a masquerade ball, just so slightly altering her the appearance that Andy first knew.

Andy would mourn all the lost opportunities with Syan—the things that had never happened. The mornings of sharing a bed, the evenings of pinching Syan’s body and biting her neck, the little things that Andy wouldn’t even know would happen. She mourned the mystery of the future.

Andy leaned against the railing of the deck. Syan looked up, tried hiding a smile, and then looked past Andy.

“Captain,” Syan said, and Andy gave herself half a second to revel in hearing the title coming from lips. “They’re coming.”

Andy looked over her shoulder. She was expecting the men to rush over as soon as they learned that her ship was a sitting duck. No response to the canon, no escalation. The Navy knew that they were fucked, and Andy expected them to take full advantage.

She had expected half the crew to storm her ship and the other half to wait patiently as if they were watching someone squash a spider. She was expecting bloody violence and pressing herself up against her men and holding Syan close to her side, a hand pressed to her waist just to make sure that Syan was the last thing she felt on the earth.

But rather than a violent storm of men that Andy had imagined, there was only one rowboat coming across the water with a handful of men. Their blue uniforms and white wigs were so distinct, Andy could vomit all over them. As the boat drew closer, they turned from dark pinpricks to defined people with swords at their sides and scowls on their faces.

Pinkey checked that his pistol was loaded and silently ushered the crew away from the edge of the boat and to the middle of the deck. There, they stood together, the hot sun beating down on them and the air so stiff Andy thought she would choke on it.

Andy reached out for Syan’s hand and clumsily intertwined their fingers together. Syan’s palm was warm and dry. It was so large and her fingers so long that she could easily cup Andy’s hand in her own—as though Andy’s hand had been made specifically to be the perfect size for Syan’s.

They held each other desperately, discreetly, just like that. Andy felt her fingers going numb, but she only squeezed back harder. If they were to die, they would die with parts of themselves mended together.

It didn’t take long for the rowboat to reach the ship and for all but two men on board to climb their way to the deck.

Andy’s knees went weak. The captain climbed aboard first with his stupid hat and golden buttons on his dark frock coat. He pulled himself around in jerking motions, only using one hand and the other limply flailing at the end of his arm. Once on the deck, his hand rested limp on the hilt of his sword.

The fingers were completely incapable of being used and curled inward toward his palm. Andy couldn’t see from where she stood, but she could imagine a clear scar on his hand. Right in the middle of his palm. It would be thick just like the scars that were on Syan’s legs, heavy on her thighs and trickling down her calves, and pale like sea foam.

“Captain Andrea,” he said. His voice was even, calm, and just as deep as Andy remembered it being. “We meet again. Charmed, I’m sure.”

Andy’s mouth split into a sneering smile. “Captain Bettridge. Always a fucking pleasure to see you.”

[commsroom]

Hello !! Do you have thoughts on Rhea :]

yes, i do!! with the caveat that we have such limited information on lovelace's crew, what we do have is almost entirely filtered through her perspective, and we kinda... know rhea the least. as much as i find eris a fascinating character too, i wish we'd heard more of rhea.

which is kind of the first thing: rhea is the only AI character in wolf 359 who doesn't have a voice. (we don't hear hyperion's voice, which is supposedly not integrated yet, but he's not even really treated like a character in the scene he's in. and that's a whole other thing.) for hera in particular, she feels a physical disconnect from the others, but the fact that wolf 359 is audio only makes her an equal presence from the perspective of the audience. (which carries over to the live show, where the other characters may not be able to see her, but the audience can, etc.) rhea's situation is kind of the opposite, where her words can be seen by the others, but the audience can only hear or infer her words via what the others read out loud or respond to.

rhea clearly cares about her fellow crewmates, and seems to get along with lambert in particular. lovelace's log: "and communications officer lambert is... communications officer lambert. so an enormous stick in the mud. [...] i heard that, rhea. you are expressly forbidden from telling him i said that." - a sentiment it's easy to imagine early minkowski expressing about eiffel and hera, for the opposite reason. in a more direct parallel, rhea reassures lambert that he "does a great job"; in bach to the future, hera tells eiffel he's "actually very good at his job." the difference in context highlights their priorities; eiffel and hera are having a heart to heart about worthiness, while rhea really is talking about lambert's job - work is important to him, and most people around him don't respect or appreciate his work. what we can infer about rhea is that she's... well, the kind of person who would be lambert's friend. straightforward, rule-following, and professional.

(even something like "see, rhea? i told you someone read [my reports to command]" indicates that they talk to each other a fair amount, but also serves as a mirror to eiffel's belief no one listens to his logs.)

maybe the most interesting thing to me about rhea is her defense of eris: "it's just the way they programmed her, back off." ... again, the complete opposite of how hera might respond. eiffel tries to "defend" her in a similar way in ep 7 - "you can't really hold that against her; it's just her programming" - and she finds it incredibly insulting. with all of that taken together, with how lovelace, lambert, and rhea are in many ways intentional opposites to minkowski, eiffel, and hera, it really makes me wonder how rhea identifies or perceives herself.

i think hera is functionally human, both in her singular, consistent image of herself, and in her role in the narrative. eris appears human to lovelace, but is clear that it's how she sees "a version of herself." whether that refers to that iteration of eris having multiple versions of herself, or if it refers to all of the iterations of her who exist: either way it's a reflection of the way eris exists, and her acceptance of that. by extension, the fact that we don't encounter rhea in any way other than beeping sounds and implied words on station monitors... kind of says something narratively, i think. going back to her lack of voice, even that level of distance and abstraction takes her further away from 'human' perceptions by the audience, while she's obviously still a full person with her own priorities, perspectives, and opinions. i think it's very interesting to consider she might prefer her state of (lack of physical) existence in a way hera clearly does not.

[deconstructthesoup]

The Web House

Full disclosure—I did not have this all typed out before today, but this won the poll, and I do nothing if not deliver.

*cracks knuckles*

So, this is kind of an inverse to my already well-established AU, The Wittebane Archives, over on AO3—Luz is the Archivist and going through the horrors, there’s an equal amount of deep character moments as well as incredibly chilling encounters, it’s great, it’s one of my favorite things I’ve ever written, please go check it out. You got tragic Lumity, tragic Huntlow, wholesome Veesha, Skara and Boscha content, and Belos being much more morally grey than you’d expect. Also, there’s some fucked-up monster content.

ANYWAYS!

I finally decided to do an AU where a young Jon ends up on the Boiling Isles, and I took a similar approach with the tone that I did with Wittebane Archives. In that story, while I still highlighted the horror of the world they live in, I decided to make it more manageable for the characters and give them chances to still find ways to feel human, reflecting the fact that TOH is a more gentle and optimistic show (and I much prefer happy endings to sad ones). So, with The Web House, I decided that the Isles in this world are the Isles we would’ve gotten if Dana had been allowed to do her original vision… which is to say, all of the scary and horrific parts are kicked up to their extent. No sugarcoating here, the demon realm is explicitly referred to as Hell.

Now, to the characters!

Jon: He is, of course, in the role of Luz. Rather than being a naive ray of sunshine from Connecticut, he’s a prickly, anxious, and socially awkward kid from Bournemouth who gets in trouble for his constant refrain of correcting the teacher, having no interest in the assignments, and his habit of reading during class. This eventually leads to him nearly getting sent to a camp for “troubled kids…” until his habit for wandering off and getting distracted by things that are out of the ordinary leads him to stumble in through a portal to the Boiling Isles. Once there, Jon is absolutely blown away by the wonder and horror of the world, and he finally finds something that he’s truly passionate about—though, time and time again, he’s told that he can’t do magic because he’s a human, and he gets very defensive about it. It takes him a while for his walls to come down.

Gerry: He’s Eda—a snarky, anti-establishment, laid-back criminal with a lot of trauma and a habit of unintentionally adopting kids. Instead of an Owl Beast curse, he has a Spider Beast curse, and is referred to as the “Web Witch” by the denizens of the Isles. Gerry was actually pretty happy pre-curse, mainly because his mother died before she could do a lot of real harm… but after getting cursed, everything came crashing down, culminating in Gerry accidentally blinding his father and running away to hide in the woods. Since then, he has a hard time really letting people in, and the fact that he’s a wanted criminal doesn’t help. But that doesn’t mean that he doesn’t regularly take in strays. (Also, the curse turns his hair black, but it’s naturally red. You’ll see why in a sec.)

Annabelle: She is a slightly more mature version of King—a spiderlike demon child that Gerry found and took in at a young age. Knowing full well that she’s adorable, she takes advantage of the fact that people think she’s sweet and naive to get what she wants, which leads to a lot of shenanigans in the first-season arc. As the story goes on, and she finally takes the push to learn more about her past, she starts learning how to be responsible and to be more honest with herself and others, though she never loses her talent for deception. She’s a curious and devious little kid.

Helen: She’s a Hooty equivalent. Just a sassy door being who helps keep the Web House in tip-top shape.

Agnes: She’s Lilith—Gerry’s older sister and the head of the Emperor’s Coven. Of course, Agnes being Agnes, she’s a lot less tightly wound than Lilith at first and is genuinely sweet and caring, just deeply misguided. She truly believes that Gerry joining the EC is the best option for him, and she’s always been tormented with guilt over cursing him. After leaving the coven, Agnes tries her hardest to make up for lost time, both with Gerry, Eric, and their great-aunt Gertrude, even if she really has no idea how to interact with people outside of being the polite and perfect role model. It’s a learning curve.

Basira: She takes the place of Willow, though her character development is less about being insecure and slowly gaining confidence and more about being stoic and apathetic and learning to express her emotions and fight for what she believes in. Basira has natural talent in both Beastkeeping and Plants, and while she initially thinks that switching to the Plant track would be better for her, she eventually decides to take both classes once it’s approved. She’s painfully logic-minded and has a lot of internal doubts about the coven system, though until she meets Jon and hears his casual breakdown of how valuing certain types of magic over others just doesn’t make sense, she doesn’t yet have the courage to voice it. On her end, Basira turns out to be just the friend that Jon needs—someone who believes in him, but isn’t afraid to tell him when he’s being an ass.

Georgie: She’s in Gus’s position, though instead of being a prodigy at Illusion magic, she’s a prodigy at Abominations magic… and is more than a little terrifying as a result. Don’t get me wrong, she’s a wonderful person, but her keen interest in both humans and in subsects of magic that are more than a little macabre can be a little off-putting to some, which is why Basira’s her only real friend at first. After their initial meeting, which consists of Georgie excitedly asking Jon for a blood sample and him being incredibly spooked by her amazement at meeting an actual human, the two end up getting along like a house on fire, and are basically enablers in each other’s chaos. Georgie’s family doesn’t have a lot of money or social standing in the Isles, so she works twice as hard in order to prove herself and get better opportunities. This leads to burnout. Frequently.

Melanie: She’s… okay, so, she’s Matt in that she’s a fellow member of Georgie’s human appreciation club and a new student at Hexside, though she and Georgie don’t really have a rivalry beyond friendly ribbing. However, she’s also Viney, in that she’s a member of the Detention track who helps kickstart multi-track studies. She and Jon don’t get along immediately, mostly due to the fact that he unintentionally ratted her out for studying both Oracle and Construction magic the first time they met, but the two form a begrudging alliance during a basilisk attack and later become actual friends. Melanie’s a sucker for drama and conflict, and she carries that with her—whether she’s in the Human Appreciation Society, the Flyer Derby team, or just hanging out with Georgie and the rest of the gang. She’s fun.

Martin: He’s Amity, in that he’s a depressed rich kid who’s severely isolated due to parental expectations. Due to his incredible talent at Illusions, a lot of kids end up coming to him when they need to cheat, though they never actually become friends with him due to everyone seeing him as a quiet weirdo who never had to work for anything. When Jon comes along, Martin is distrustful of anybody claiming to want to be his friend, and he doesn’t help things by accidentally demeaning Jon’s interest in magic—which, in Jon’s eyes, cements him as a rival. After a string of miscommunication and failed interactions, the two eventually reach a middle ground and become friends… which later leads into Martin developing a gigantic crush on Jon. Which is later reciprocated. Aside from the romantic drama, Martin learns to both become more open and to stand up for himself, becoming the kind yet bitchy individual we all know and love.

Tim & Danny: They’re Edric and Emira—Martin’s class-clown yet charming older brothers who love teasing their little brother and getting into general mischief. Tim’s the oldest, and he’s usually the one who shows a lot of actual worry towards Martin, though he’s still a very flashy individual and tends to do a lot of crazy things just for the hell of it. Danny, on the other hand, has some identity issues that stem from being a middle child who doesn’t quite know who he is outside of his family, and he tends to throw himself into something if he thinks it’ll make him stand out. They’re both illusionists, like Martin, and while Tim and Danny are biological brothers, all of them are adopted. (Also, Tim eventually starts taking Bard and Beastkeeping classes, while Danny starts taking Potions.)

Daisy: If my decision to make Basira Willow hasn’t tipped you off, Daisy is Hunter—the Golden Guard of the Emperor’s Coven, praised as a teen prodigy yet possesses no magical talent of her own. She’s loyal to the emperor and genuinely believes in everything she’s been taught, and she is absolutely horrible at expressing any emotion other than smugness or anger, believing fear and sentiment to be weaknesses and being deathly afraid of being perceived as anything other than strong. Daisy is a very vulnerable person underneath her hard exterior, and she can be incredibly soft with people she cares about… though, of course, she’s not given much opportunity to connect with anyone outside of the castle, or inside, for that matter. In the canon of TMA, Daisy is a truly fascinating character to me, and I knew that the only character she could feasibly be is Hunter—hey, person who did bad things for a cause they believed was just and had that illusion stripped from them, meet other person who did bad things for a cause they believed was just and had that illusion stripped from them. And they both love wolves. So, yeah, she’s a very traumatized child soldier who makes the gradual evolution into a protective big sister friend and a disaster lesbian.

Sasha: I had to make her Vee. I had to. Even if you take away the whole fact that she was NotThemed and how similar that is to the basilisks, the fact that she was almost made the Archivist makes her perfect for that role. Her general story is pretty much the same as in canon—she’s a basilisk who was created in a lab for the purpose of studying magic draining and ran away to the human realm, falling in love with it almost as soon as she arrived. Once in the human realm, Sasha develops a love for computers and manages to make friends with the people she meets at the camp (I’m not sure who they are yet, though I’m leaning towards making them Sam and Colin—Alice already has a role), and when she and Jon actually have a chance to meet, they almost immediately bond as siblings after the distrust and animosity is thrown out the window. Also, Sasha’s existence helps Jon finally fully connect with his grandmother, so… bonus!

Oliver: He’s Raine. As much as I love Doorkeay, I have a different role in mind for Micheal, and Oliver’s dynamic with Gerry as two gorgeous witchy goth men connected with The End is something that I’d love to see more of. Anyways, um… so, Oliver and Gerry’s story is pretty similar to canon—they met when they were in high school, were best friends from that point on, and eventually started dating, though they broke up due to Gerry being tight-lipped about the curse and Oliver eventually making the decision to join the Bard coven. Oliver didn’t start being a rebel leader right away, though, since he initially believed that the best way to fix things was by changing it from the inside, but after years of that not working, he finally caved and started the BATs. He’s very practiced at pretending that he’s just an unassuming workaholic, and he often claims stage fright in order to continue operating under the radar. Oliver’s a smart dude.

Trevor: He’s… well, he takes the position of Eberwolf as the Beastkeeping coven head, but he also acts as Darius for a lot of the story beats—mostly because he takes the role as Daisy’s actually decent paternal figure. Trevor comes off as an old grump who doesn’t like people or fun, and he’s seen many a Golden Guard die in his time as a head of a coven… so, when he sees Daisy be rebellious for the first time in her life, his wolf dad instincts kick in. Not quite sure where Julia fits in yet, but she’ll fit in. Somewhere.

Jane: Terra. She has to be Terra. Gross plant woman who pretends to be sweet but is actually psychotic. She’d definitely suggest turning children into mulch as an apt punishment for failing a small challenge.

Nikola: Same deal, she’s Adrian. She can’t be anyone else.

Peter: He’s in the position of Odalia—an antisocial yet jovial businessman who reeks of old money. He also deals in security and weaponry, though he primarily uses oracle magic instead of Abominations, and he’s very interested in studying the effects illusion magic has on the mind. Of course, he can’t actually practice illusion magic, so he has to turn to other avenues for research… such as adopting three gifted illusionists. Needless to say, Peter is not a good parent by any measure,  and he kind of holds the fact that he adopted his sons over their heads so they don’t step out of line. Unfortunately, the kiddos don’t have an Alador equivalent (as far as I’ve decided), so the only person they can really go to outside of each other is Peter. Not a good environment, really. And it’s definitely complicated by the reason why their dad has all this standing and power, beyond just the family connections…

Elias/Jonah: So, he is in Belos’s place as the emperor who’s secretly a human witch hunter, but his motivations aren’t the same. Rather than planning on killing witches simply because he hates magic, his intention is to drain the magic from them and take it for himself—well, for humans, but mostly himself. Elias is also a lot more… shall we say, lax about interacting with other witches, which is why he has zero qualms with having an on-again, off-again relationship with Peter Lukas. And several other men throughout his time on the Isles. Yeah, Philip may be too deep in a Puritanical mindset to claw his way out of Narnia and admit that he’s not straight, but Jonah is a harlot and that’s a part of his character that stays constant. I’m not gonna go into his backstory, for spoiler reasons, but I will say that Gwendolyn is a Caleb equivalent, and Alice is her Evelyn. I’m riding on the Dyhard train and you can’t stop me.

Micheal (Distortion): And last but not least, I couldn’t make our boy Micheal anybody other than The Collector! I know that technically, he and Helen are kind of the same character, but she just doesn’t have the silly vibes that he does. All I can really say is that his story is… well, it matches up with in canon, except he’s more of a preteen than a kid. We know so little about Collie’s past outside of the events that led them to be trapped, and what we know about Micheal himself—pre-Distortion, of course—is equally as murky and unclear, so… yeah. He’s a funky neon star kid who originally manifests as a funky shadow kid.

And yeah, I think that’s it for now.

[ifbrd]

This is probably a little bit of a hot take, but hear me out:

Wakko is actually the most confident of all three Warner siblings.

I understand why Wakko being the least confident is a more common interpretation. I mean consider how you think each kid would react if individually pulled aside and told the harshest criticisms of themselves, specifically about aspects of themselves that mean a a lot to them. How do you think each kid would react in that scenario? For me, I see Dot getting annoyed and walking away at best, and going full on homicidal at worst. Yakko, for me kinda depends on if we’re talking the original or the reboot. The original I can see him having a similar reaction to Dot, but less extreme and more based on wit and outsmarting, in the reboot I can see him having to fight back an anxiety attack. Wakko however, idk about the rest of you, but I see him getting teary eyed and upset. So it does make sense that Yakko and Dot would be perceived as the confident ones who simply get back at whomever gave the criticisms and then moving on, while Wakko seems more likely to break down a little from it. But to me, it’s this exact thing that could demonstrate the opposite, that Wakko is very confident in himself, while his siblings might be feeling more insecure.

Consider this, regardless of how confident you are, receiving harsh criticisms, or being told someone doesn’t like you or whatever will still sting a bit. It’s normal to be upset by something like that, and it must be worse when you’re a child star like the Warners are. Being confident overall doesn’t make you immune to being insecure, especially when you’re a kid still figuring out who you are. Wakko seems to be the one most in tune with his emotions, the one most likely to express the emotions he feels at any given time. If Wakko feels upset because he’s feeling insecure, he has his reaction, he lets himself be upset, and then he gets over it. He seems more insecure because he’s getting upset, but he’s just being honest and letting himself be a person with emotions.

Meanwhile, Yakko and Dot seem to exude confidence. Someone insults them and they seem to know the insulter is wrong and get their revenge and call it a day. But I’m here to argue that these behaviors of Yakko and Dot aren’t confidence, they’re a show, a self defense mechanism, a mask of confidence to hide insecurity. Personally, with the reboot, particularly episodes like the Halloween special, I don’t think I need explain this interpretation for Yakko, but I do feel compelled to argue this interpretation for Dot. Dot is great and she knows it, and she’ll likely angrily mallet your face flat if you dare to suggest otherwise. Not to get all Dr. Scratchansniff on everyone, but anger is considered a secondary emotion. We feel anger to give us energy to deal with something, something that another emotion has deemed important. Go from feeling terrified to angry? That’s your emotions trying to get you to act in a way that protects you from the threat. So if Dot’s gut reaction to someone thinking lesser of her than she thinks of herself is to get angry, it’s likely because there’s another underlying emotion there, likely feeling threatened or insecure. Same argument goes for Yakko, though it seems clear from the Halloween special of the reboot that his underlying emotion is probably anxiety.

Basically what I’m getting at is Wakko does the healthy thing, let’s himself feel the emotions, and then he moves on, whereas Yakko and Dot don’t express what they’re feeling, put up veils of “everything is fine this person is just dumb and I’m gonna make sure they know that,” and then move on without actually having taken care of or properly addressed their hurt.

And honestly, Wakko being more secure with himself actually makes a lot sense considering the roles each of them play in their dynamic. Yakko is the oldest, he’s the leader, he’s expected to know what to do next, so he needs to be confident, even if it’s all an act. Dot is the only girl, she has to be the representation for girls and women, and she’s clearly is a feminist who wants to inspire, but how can she do that if she’s not confident? How can she inspire women, and especially young girls, to be confident if she is not perfectly confident herself? And then there’s Wakko. Wakko’s job is to show up and be goofy and silly. He’s not the oldest having to make decisions, and he’s not representing an entire group of people. Wakko might even have some middle child syndrome going on (suggested by Yakko in the Survey Ladies episode of the original), which might be frustrating at times, but also means he can easily fade into the background and not many people care. He can sit back and do what he wants and everyone’s just kinda like “there’s Wakko being Wakko”

So yeah, I think between their roles and Wakko’s healthier way of dealing with things, I think Wakko is chill and sure of himself, while Yakko and Dot are likely overcompensating in their confidence.

[babymafuyu]

Cidjdisjis your headcanons made my brain all fuzzy (it means I loved them) and OMG the unparalleled angst of Toralei calling Clawdeen mom names when she’s really regressed or scared cause her irl mom is a peice of trash 🥺. Absolutely going feral. Ooo and I think I didn’t see but would love to note is that she just has so many little habits that are ‘considered’ childish, but she still has them cause she’s been so regulated whenever her moms around. So they slip out when she’s not. Aka she totally plays with the yarn charms on her boots. Rocks on her heels, definitely has a fear of thunder. DEFINITELY sucks her thumb in her sleep/when no one is looking. Wrings her hands a lot. Does a lot of stuff involving her hands cause of restless energy.

Oh? Do you think you could shed a few HCs on how you think Clawdeen found out about Toralei regressing? + any thoughts you have on the weretwins being CGs to little Toralei?

thanks bestie! This gave me a such a thrill, I don’t really specifically talk about little HCs to many people so it’s nice to find someone to do it with!

aaaaa i love ur thoughts about regressor toralei!!! youre so right!! she totally stims more and just lets herself go when she's regressed! also, thank you!! i love talking about agere hcs + regressor toralei is really growing on me! if you'd like to dm me, you 100% can any time! (/gen)

now.. onto the hcs!

clawdeen finding out about toralei's regression -

it was definitely accidental

i think clawdeen + toralei were searching for something in toralei's room and found her baby blanket

immediately toralei got super defensive and was trying to act like it was nothing

clawdeen was skeptical but put it back and continued as usual

a few days later clawdeen has to visit toralei again for something, but when toralei opens the door she seems.. different

she's in pajamas, she's shuffling more, her eyes seem bigger, her fur seems spikier– she just seems younger in general

clawdeen asks her about this in the most gentle and non-judgmental way she can

toralei tries to look all angry, but then her ears go back and she asks clawdeen not to tell anyone

of course, clawdeen agrees! she says she's friends with other regressors and it isn't a big deal to her. she just wants to make toralei comfortable

toralei lights up at this and, just like magic, she has found a cg!

the werecat twins being toralei's cgs -

they definitely take on more sibling roles to toralei

i think toralei told them when they were visiting so if they found some regression things clawdeen gave her or she was acting differently they knew why

the twins were very accepting and understood perfectly!

meowlody loves playing with toralei! she especially loves playing pretend and will get super into her role

purrsephone, meanwhile, prefers to take a back seat and do less hands on, active things with toralei

one thing they all love to do, though, is play dress up

...playing dress up usually just results in a little toralei doing a fashion show and the twins enthusiastically cheering her on from the audience (as well as helping her into her costumes)

their love for music doesn't go away when toraleis small! they like performing kid songs, playing on toy instruments, and having sing-alongs and dance parties!

purrsephone is a bit more strict and good at reeling toralei in when she's being a bit too bratty and demanding

meowlody, like clawdeen, however is much more willing to go along with what toralei wants

[theshadowsnetwork]

==L A N D F A L L // PT. 1==

Gentle waves pushed themselves onto the sandy beach, growing slightly larger as the storm pressed in. There wasn’t a living thing on earth that could see the eye of a serpent, pressing down through the clouds. The gaze was heavy with rapt curiosity. 

But to everyone else, there were clouds in the sky and nothing more.

In the month of her residency at Lux, the community had never been this busy. The new and freshly settled apartments were abandoned as Shadows and their families abandoned them for the barracks hidden in the mountain beneath Moonlight Palace. The businesses that had only just opened had closed at unadvertised hours. The security crew brought their undivided attention to the shore, and Jasmine had invested too much of herself to not see what masked horror approached from the sea. 

For someone who, by very definition, was a prisoner, Jasmine would have shaken herself free from her apartment, her cell, to meet the approaching vessel. But she didn’t need to. She was ordered released. And Savannah, ever her dutiful handler and loyal friend, drove her to the beach. Together, they were the first of the security forces on site, with Deborah having arrived not long after.

“I assume the Director and Eleanor are on the plane back by now.” Deborah hung up the phone. “Whatever this is, we’re facing it ourselves.” An organized wave of security officers began to file in, quickly setting up a defense wall and placing themselves between their home, and the yacht. 

Warrick was the last to arrive, true to the image he’d drawn of himself as of late. His gaze drew squarely into Jasmine’s presence and he scowled to Deborah. “Get this prisoner back to her cell immediately!” he barked.

“Excuse me??” Deborah shot back.

“This is a major security breach! The inmate must remain in her quarters until the all-clear is given. And since this is my scene, and I haven’t given the all clear, I want her confined and out of my sight–”

“Actually, It’s my scene,” Savannah replied flatly. “You’ve been implemented in an assault case and removed from your role, pending further review. The Director and Eleanor have named me your replacement, and I need Jasmine here since SHE was the one who detected the vessel in the first place. Also, she has studied these incidents more than anyone. I need her expertise.”

Warrick stared down Jasmine and Savannah, the two young women who dared remove him from his position. 

“I need you either behind the line, or in the barracks. You’re crowding me and my partner.” 

Outplayed, Warrick could only wince.

“Jazzy!” Jasmine’s head whipped away from the shore to find BK, breaking free from her security detail to meet her on the boardwalk. She fell into Jasmine’s arms. 

“What…”

“I told you I’d be here,” BK told her.

Warrick’s features twisted into bitter disgust. “So she’s allowed to be here? You’d rather have two inmates on the scene over me?”

“Were it not for Brooklyn’s intervention, Jasmine would not have confirmed the vessel and we wouldn’t be here in the first place,” Savannah replied flatly. “Besides, who do you think implicated you?”

Warrick’s resistance left him.

“Behind the perimeter, Mr. Warrick,” Savannah ordered. 

Reluctantly, he conceded the scene to Officer Savannah Morrison and moved behind the security line. 

“You two,” Savannah called to Jasmine and BK. “Eyes forward.”

Jasmine pulled away and faced the shoreline. The object she detected made itself known as an ornate yacht, sailing slowly toward the beach. She looked for a long time as it came closer and closer, growing larger and larger in her view. 

Together with Savannah and BK, Jasmine joined the security line, standing behind armed officers ready to defend their home.

It took about forty minutes or so for the yacht to finally run aground. The shore was quiet with expectancy. Jasmine could barely hear the waves on the shore over her thudding heart. But through the sound of her nerves, frayed at the ends, she could hear a door opening on the yacht. A girl, much younger and much more nervous than Jasmine was herself, marched to the bow of the yacht. She was dressed sharply in white and read formal wear, adorned with a large pin that reflected the scattered sunlight with ease. 

The young girl on the ship was flanked by another, dressed in hooded garb. Her violet eyes scanned the beach, and the security line formed by dozens of Shadows. Her caution was expertly contained contained.

The hooded girl looked skyward, and thunder rolled.

Jasmine’s attention was pulled to the sound of heavy boot steps on the boat. A third figure approached the bow of the boat. Older, strong, distinct. A woman bound in leather wrappings and silver jewelry, her hair a collection of long, cascading dreadlocks.

It was she who spoke first. “Peace be unto you.” 

As her older companion spoke, the girl in white peered nervously over the railing, with a smile. 

Before Savannah or BK could reach out to stop her, Jasmine broke the line and cautiously stepped out onto the beach, approaching the yacht at a snail’s pace. Savannah rushed onto the beach to put herself between the yacht and Jasmine. “This is a private beach. Wherever it is you’re sailing for, it isn’t here. We must ask you to leave–”

“You are The Weaving Shadows,” replied the older woman. “Are you not?”

Somehow, the stale, uncertain quiet on the beach only grew.

“I am confident we are where we need to be.” The woman concluded. 

The woman conceded the tip of the bow to the girl in white. Nervously, the girl looked at the line of security officers, their weapons trained on her and her traveling comrades. She swallowed thickly and steeled herself. “We apologize for our unannounced arrival. We come at the request of The Queen Saint Skylar Stabat. She extends her greetings.”

This moment where gifts turned into conversation was a long time coming, but the groundwork was already laid. The truth wasn’t as difficult to wrestle with as Savannah and Jasmine originally surmised. Through their continued gifts, The Shadows came to know Sieri Lycar, even if their interactions had been confusing at times. Jasmine had cataloged much of the paintings, statues, and armors that washed up on the shore, and through the sum of that study, she recognized all three of the yacht’s passengers from the artworks. 

Jasmine called to the girl in white “Can I assume you to be the Ambassador? Enid?”

The girl could barely contain her relief. “Yes! I am Enid Cassian, Ambassador to Her Grace the Queen.”

Jasmine glanced at Enid’s companions. “If I had to guess, that other girl is Hannah Holt, right? And the woman you travel with is Abidalla.”

More relief washed over Enid. “I’m glad introductions can be simple things. So much of this is complicated…we’re hoping that we can uncomplicate things for the sake of Her Grace and your Director. We hope that this meeting can be the precursor to their eventual meeting, and before long, a fruitful partnership.”

Savannah yielded to Jasmine’s knowledge of the paintings. For now, she accepted that these people were who they said they were. “Ambassador, if your intentions are for a meeting and nothing more, you’ll agree to be boarded and your vessel searched.”

“Of course,” Enid readily replied.  “However…” She peered nervously at Abidalla, who put her at ease with a nod. 

“There is an animal and a weapon aboard this vessel, both of which defy your understanding. I request that we bring both to you on the beach to deliver to your custody. Allow us this courtesy, and we will bow to your demands.”

Jasmine knew the animal right away. There was a painting of Abidalla walking alongside it. But certainly, it couldn’t be real….could it?

Caution flowed in Jasmine’s blood. She stepped back from the yacht, pulling Savannah back with her. 

“Proceed,” Jasmine replied. “Enid and Hannah will stay aboard. Abidalla will deliver the animal and weapon to the beach. Slowly. No sudden movements.”

Abidalla nodded in reply and retreated from the bow.

Enid smiled down at Jasmine “Thank you, for keeping an open mind. I know we’re asking you to accept a great many things.”

“I have to say,” Jasmine replied. “You appear more…modern.. than your artistic renders suggest.”

Enid nodded. “We’ve had a year to study the world around us. I hope those lessons we’ve learned from our neighbors have paid off.”

“A year.” Jasmine rummaged through her thoughts. “I look forward to hearing you explain how a landmass appeared out of nowhere a year ago, home to a nation of people that no one knew existed.”

Thunder rolled again, pulling Hannah’s gaze skyward once more. Droplets of rain fell from the sky.

“My queen and I would love to tell you the story,” said Enid, her diplomacy picking her words carefully. “There are other truths we must present.”

The superyacht rustled, shifting under the weight of something massive. Jasmine’s breath hitched in her throat. As did Savannah’s.

“How many of the fantastical aspects of the paintings are true…?” Savannah whispered nervously to Jasmine.

“I…don’t know. But I have a feeling that it’s more than we’ve ever could have assumed.” Jasmine blinked as the vessel continued to shift, disturbing the water. 

Enid’s head whipped around to something on the stern. Whatever it was, the security line saw it first and aimed their weapons. 

“Hold your fire!!” Savannah called. “Let them on the beach.”

Abidalla emerged portside and tossed several feet of heavy chains into the water. “For you, my friend. You are the lady of the water, after all.”

Jasmine hesitated before heading to the edge of the water and diving in for the chain. She was gone for only moments before she resurfaced with the heavy chains wrapped around her torso She met Savannah on the beach with the chain, pulling it ashore before it ran taut with something still aboard. Security officers rushed to the beach to grab hold of the chain.

It couldn’t be real, Jasmine told herself. But she knew in her heart that it was. “We’re ready.” Her curiosity glued her eyes to the yacht. Her caution caused her to step backward.

Abidalla turned away from shore. “Easy, boy…”  Jasmine could hear her say.

Jasmine’s expected breath lingered uncomfortably in her throat. And as she saw it…she swallowed. A wolf of impossible size, so large, the ship rocked with every step of its paws. Blackened fur, silvery steel eyes, and fangs as long as Jasmine’s straightened arms. But there was no ferocity within the creature, at least not now. The peace Enid and Abidalla wished upon them was also the creature’s wish. It peered along the security’s line of walls and weapons trained on it. 

Abidalla jumped from the yacht into the ocean and the wolf lept after her. The yacht rocked in the waters, newly free from the wolf’s weight. Abidalla led the creature onto the beach, He hooked his fangs into the chain and tossed it into the pile until it was taut again with the collar around his neck. When the Shadows pulled the chain, it obediently followed them away from the yacht. Settling without argument on the pier.

Abidalla watched the Shadows intently, and when she was satisfied with the wolf’s treatment, she approached Savannah, stopping a fair distance away. “It is important that you know that the weapon is never far from me.” In the wolf’s wake, Savannah and Jasmine had forgotten the weapon. Abidalla offered Savannah an oversized axe, decorated like the twisting trunk of a tree. “If there is anything more I could do to placate your concerns, the Ambassador, Hannah, and I won't hesitate “

The wolf was too much for Savannah to comprehend.  Savannah searched Jasmine for an answer. And Jasmine herself searched for answers in her research. The yacht was exactly the same as it was in the painting they received. “The artist behind the paintings Sieri Lycar sent…should we take them all literally?”

Abidalla was pleasantly surprised by Jasmine’s grasp on logic the queen assumed would have taken them much longer to accept. “Most of them, yes.”

Jasmine searched Abidalla’s cold and confident exterior and saw only a woman who was telling the truth. Moreso, she saw a woman with many answers, many revelations.

And in the absence of Savannah, still slackjawed by the impossible wolf, Jasmine acted in her stead. “Would you agree to temporary confinement?”

“We would expect little more at this stage,” replied Abidalla. “In fact, we hoped for such. We will take whatever accommodations you deem necessary, and we will wait for your director and her–”  She stopped. Like she was close to divulging a secret she had no right to speak “...her consort, for as long as we are required. As ordered by Her Grace. I only request that Okir, my wolf, be fed a strict diet of seafood, caught fresh from the sea here. Treat him well, and he will consent to any tests. I’m sure your curiosities are plenty.”

Jasmine turned to Savannah, who shook herself free from the creature and brought herself to attention. “Very well. You and your traveling companions will be placed in confinement. They’re already en route to meet with you.  You’ll go with these men to a temporary holding cell while we prepare an apartment for your stay. Due to his size…the wolf will have to remain in the cell, but we will feed him according to your instructions and allow for visits during your stay.

Satisfied, Abidalla nodded. “Thank.you.”

The security officers placed the Lycari guests in handcuffs. The young ambassador sighed in relief, her very acceptance into a cell being a major victory in her trials as a fledgling diplomat. She also offered her thanks before the three of them were escorted away from the beach under heavy guard. The rest of them performed a thorough search of the vessel, finding nothing out of place…accept for a painting of a young girl floating in the sea, a face of bliss projected on her features.

A face that mirrored Jasmine’s in accurate detail.

@ofcarnvge

[wastheheart]

Meta and Esme's relationship with each of the members of the Olympic Coven.

*         send   META   +   a   word   ,   a   name   ,   or   phrase   and   i   will   write   a   head  canon   based   off   of   this   !!!   || @twistedtangledfate (thank you!)

(Doing this pre-Bella & R.enesmee)

Carlisle:

Carlisle is the only member of her coven that she feels safe being emotionally and physically vulnerable with. While it's true that Edward can hear her thoughts, and by extension can act as a confidant, Esme always confides in Carlisle first and foremost. He knows how to soothe her, how to make her laugh as if she'll never breathe again, and most importantly, he knows how to make her feel supported in every aspect of her life.

At first, Carlisle refused to allow Esme to reciprocate such loyal, loving support, but as their love blossomed and he realised that he deserved as much grace and kindness he showed Esme, Carlisle slowly started allowing her to have his back as much as he had hers.

Edward:

The beginning of their relationship was rocky to say the least. Edward was worried about Esme replacing him, and Esme was worried about Edward thinking she was replacing him. When they both realised that wasn't what was happening, their relationship improved tenfold.

She has such a soft spot for him because of the mere fact that it was merely him, Carlisle and her when she opened her eyes in this life. He also helped her verbalise the first, most painful memories of her human life, helping her form them into explanations for Carlisle when Esme felt as if it was unspeakable. Edward refused (unless she insisted) to tell Carlisle anything about her truth, allowing Esme full autonomy in whatever she wished or did not wish to share. He continues to respect that even now, demonstrated most clearly in Breaking Dawn with her conflicting thoughts and feelings about the existence of Renesmee.

Rosalie:

As much as Esme is fairly maternal, Esme's relationship with Rosalie is most similar to that of a big sister who helped raise their little sister. Esme has, and always will have, an "open door policy" with Rosalie.

As much as Edward and Rosalie bicker, Edward often comes to Esme privately when he's concerned about Rosalie because he knows that, besides Emmett, Esme is Rosalie's closest confidant.

Esme will often make more time to simply be with Rosalie. She knows from experience that outright asking Rosalie if she's okay will often be met with defensiveness, so she waits until Rosalie is ready to open up to her and Esme will listen to everything she has to say. Once Rosalie has said her piece, Esme will offer two choices; if she wants solutions to her upset, or if she simply needs to talk it out. The approach isn't fool proof, but it's what works best for them and other than Emmett, Esme does truly believe she's most likely the only other member of this coven to see Rosalie's true nature— not the façade she plays in lieu or armour.

Emmett:

Emmett intimidated Esme from his sheer size. When Rosalie brought him home, seeing him lying down didn't do his size justice. As soon as he found his feet in this life, Esme was quite literally taken by surprise.

He soon proved that she had no reason to worry, he was truly a big teddy bear and so incredibly caring and sensitive. He also soon proved to be very protective of those he loved, and often told Esme that he appreciated her and the love she showed towards him— that although he couldn't quite remember his mother, he knew she would be glad that Esme was there to fulfil that role for him now.

Alice:

Alice's disposition is so cheery and happy, it's often easy to forget that Alice's gift ways heavily on her shoulders. It took Alice longer than Rosalie to start opening up to Esme, and who could blame her with the past she endured, but Esme began to heal that maternal relationship in Alice. Again, Esme never saw herself as Alice's mother, merely able to offer that role should Alice ever need it.

Alice and Edward quite often and naturally support each other, but if Alice ever needs to emotionally recharge, Esme is there to help her. She often sits with Alice in her room, allowing this usual whirlwind of a woman rest her head against her lap as Esme runs fingers through dark hair. They chat about everything and nothing; subjects ranging from fashion to nuclear physics, Esme enjoys wherever their conversation goes.

Then they continue on their way, but never hesitating to extend a helping hand to one another.

Jasper:

Jasper was perhaps the most difficult member of her coven to get used to. As much as she adores and respects him now, Jasper's introduction, unfortunately, brought a lot of baggage up for Esme. It was no way a reflection in his character, but his height and the way he carried himself was reminiscent of Charles— especially the last few memories she had of him after coming home from war.

The first year was difficult for the both of them; Esme was taken by surprise by the emotions Jasper brought with him, but her trust in his character was worth it completely.

Understanding where Esme's initial panic came from allowed Jasper to become more settled, thus allowing Esme to become more settled too. Now, if Esme ever struggles with her c-p.tsd, Jasper is often the first person to find her and try and help soothe her which she is immensely thankful for. In turn, Esme has become a confidant for Jasper, and despite the fact he is older than her, both mortally and immortally, Esme's encouragement and validation means a lot to him.

After Bella's birthday unfolded, Esme was there for him without a doubt. She never judges him, but instead holds out a hand for him to take should he need it. Esme knows better than anyone else that, in one's most difficult of times, you need support and not judgement.