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oristian · 9 months ago

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ELUCIEN | GWYNRIEL — MAASVERSE SPOILERS

I tend to see posts and videos from a multitude of people who seem to be reluctant to accept foreshadowing in the ACOTAR books—specifically regarding the endgame couples to finish out the overall series. As this post is simply beating a dead horse down, I find that it is very much needed as a specific group of people lack the capacity to understand the books.

Foreshadowing is not meant to be obvious. There are, of course, cases where it is relatively obvious, but only within the parameters of back-to-back scenes. Foreshadowing is meant to be picked up on, but to be fully understand later on in the story when everything comes to fruition. Examples of foreshadowing include color descriptions, specific use of language, emphasis on certain scenes, emphasis surrounding specific objects, et cetera. If something happens obviously and you can read the scene as-is, it is not foreshadowing.

I see many people who ship Elriel claim that there is buildup across the entire series that foreshadows why they will be endgame. As the books do not support that claim, it is outlandish and a spread of misinformation. Allow me to disprove this theory using the books alone:

— 🌸 ACOTAR: Zero interactions between Elain and Azriel as Azriel had not been introduced as a character yet. This book highlighted Feyre surmising that Elain would thrive within the Spring Court, that her sister enjoyed typical emissary work, and instead introduced Lucien as a character.

— 🦢 ACOMAF: This is the first book where Elain and Azriel met, as is this is where many Elriels like to claim that the Elriel build-up begins. However, this book says otherwise. Elain and Azriel’s first meeting is neutral, quiet conversation to ease a tense situation as Nesta/Feyre/Cassian/Rhys were creating an uncomfortable atmosphere and Elain meant to ease it. This book highlighted how in love Azriel was with Mor and how Elain was engaged to Grayson. Many Elriels also claim that the color of Elain’s dress in this first meeting—being cobalt—is indicative of endgame between she and Azriel. However, cobalt is also the signature color of Grayson’s family crest. Their interactions die out after that first meeting and instead focus on Feysand again. The throne room scene in Hybern also showed the beginning of Elucien and their mate bond, while Azriel was on the floor reaching for Mor. (I go more into this on my Tik Tok page: @oristian)

— 🔥 ACOWAR: When Feyre returns to the Night Court after her month in Spring, she finds that Elain has been within a catatonic state for the entirety of that month and has shown no signs of recovering—that is, until Lucien came along. Elain began eating and moving around once he came and after tugging on the mating bond, her visions first started showing. themselves. Everyone likes to credit Azriel for most of this, but all that Azriel did (take her to the garden) was suggested previously by Lucien. Lucien, who was not able to be alone with her due to Nesta and Feyre. Next, everyone tends to say that Azriel “saw” Elain when he named her power. “What we need is …” Contradicts such a thing. Naming a power does not cure someone of their trauma. Lucien is also canonically the first character to take Elain’s visions seriously and went in search of Vassa, ultimately finding Papa Archeron and creating an even deeper connection into the Koschei plot arc with Elain. This is also where we get the iconic half-step on the stair scene.

Elain is now kidnapped by the cauldron portraying itself as Graysen—Elain wanting so badly to be with her previous lover. This is a scene where many Elriels claim that it is supportive of Elriel being endgame. However, it is within character for Azriel to save someone, especially people close to him. Certainly, Elain being appreciative of being saved and kissing him on the cheek is cute, but that is not enough “foreshadowing” for an endgame. Next, Azriel hands her Truth Teller after Elain refused other weapons. Elain is hesitant and only agrees to take it once Feyre chimes in that she will not have to use it. Juxtapose this with Elain immediately giving it back after the battle is over, not saying a word, and instead falling into conversation with Lucien. Lucien, who is canonically the only character to credit her for assisting with ending the King of Hybern.

— 🌨️ ACOFAS: This is the buffer book that was meant to do two things: Establish Nessian as the next couple for the following book, and establish a clear love triangle between Azriel/Elain/Lucien. Elriels use this book to drive the idea of an Elriel endgame. While this book has scenes between Elain and Azriel, there is unfortunately no foreshadowing present enough to support that claim. This novella emphasizes, from a conversation between Rhys and Feyre, that Azriel may be inclined towards Elain due to her having traits that may remind him of his mother (Freud). We also have Solstice where Lucien brings Elain a gift—a gift that fully reflects her interests—Elain brings Azriel a gift, but Azriel does not bring Elain a gift. Azriel even questioning beforehand if he has to get the sisters a gift at all. Elain’s gift being superficial and more of a joke than anything truly meaningful to them as a relationship.

— 🗡️ ACOSF: The book that ended Elriel. We have this book set up as PRE-BONUS CHAPTER | BONUS CHAPTER | POST BONUS CHAPTER. In the pre-bonus chapter, we have a few scenes between Elain and Azriel that is a glance, or a very small interaction. The infamous scene that Elriels like to use to “prove” that his shadows actually like Elain is the scene where Cassian says that Nesta upset Elain and his shadows seemed poised to strike. His shadows reacted to his anger, not to Elain. Next, the Solstice scene where Azriel refused to be within the room due to the mating bond between Elain and Lucien and Nesta seeing that he was interested in Elain—which is never brought up again, however we do get a scene post bonus chapter of Nesta encouraging Gwyn and Azriel by calling him the “new ribbon.”

The bonus chapter ended Elriel officially as endgame. The chapter is told from Azriel’s POV and documents his lustful thoughts of Elain and how he wants a mate, hurt and confused why his brothers had two of the Archeron sisters and the third was given away to another male. Rhysand even asking Azriel what his plans are after seducing Elain and Azriel having none “past the fantasies he pleasures himself to.” This is also a chapter where Elriels like to claim that Elriel is a forbidden romance. ACOWAR Rhys clearly objects to this being the case. (I have a video on my Tik Tok going over this @oristian) The bonus chapter then moves to Azriel finding Gwyn, his shadows not warning him of her presence at the HoW. His shadows are curious about her and dance with her breath. Azriel then finds out that Elain rejected his necklace—the only Solstice gift that he has gotten her, and one he expressed as “nothing extraordinary”—and the next morning finds him re-gifting such to Gwyn. Azriel can picture her eyes lighting up at the gift and he smiles—this is also where mate language is used to describe the spark in his chest at the thought of her and the glow of the thought. “A thing of secret, lovely beauty.” A line that was used twice—one to describe the necklace, and another time to describe the thought of Gwyn.

Post bonus chapter has zero interactions between Elain and Azriel. The interactions between Azriel and Gwyn are charged and witty. Energetic. This is also where we see Azriel’s siphons glowing darker at the thought of the Valkyries in the Great Rite—the first instance that this has happened.

Next, we go into the last two remaining plot arcs: Koschei and Dusk Court. Both ACOSF and HOFAS have set Nesta up as the driver for the Dusk Court arc, with Azriel as the character to follow. With SJM’s Bloomsbury contract slating her to have two more main books with dual POV romantic interests, the Dusk Court arc book would only make sense having Gwyn and Azriel as the FMC and MMC of that arc. The Koschei arc has been carefully crafted for Elain and Lucien to be the FMC and MMC of that book, with both of them being set up for this since ACOWAR. Elain with her visions of Vassa, the lake, and Koschei’s black box, and Lucien being tied to Papa Archeron and Vassa and the mortals. (I have a video on my Tik Tok that goes more in depth with this @oristian)

— SUMMARY: Elain and Azriel do not have multiple books of foreshadowing, a Gwynriel and Elucien endgame is not fanservice, and the remaining two plot arcs do not support an Elriel endgame. If you have any problems with that, take it up with SJM.

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olderthannetfic · 29 days ago

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Actually, sorry, nevermind with the pro ship stuff ! Did my research and I'm more informed abt it :) you dont need to post either of the asks I sent abt it (and I'm lowkey scared if coming across as a close minded purist prude whose disillusioned about being by one.)..either way ty!

*giggling*

The reality is that any new, viral thing from thirty seconds ago spreads easily on TikTok, most especially misinformation. Instagram is another pretty terrible platform just in terms of algorithms and how it's run. I wouldn't expect the prevailing understanding of such-and-such from within one bubble on either to necessarily be well informed.

The concept of "antis" under that name is pretty new, and the concept of "proshippers" is even newer. It has always meant "not antis". Some people have started mutating it to be about specific dark content, but it was always supposed to be about opposing censorship-happy idiots.

I don't find incestuous ships any freakier than other common fantasies people have. Same with adult/minor ships. You're seeing them in a distinct category because they upset you in particular. The feelings are fine, but they don't actually mean that these kinks are darker than all the other ones antis go after.

I know you think someone will be able to interpret "proshippers DNI" as "only the actually bad people should stay away", but that simply isn't what's going to happen. First, DNIs are moronic. Curating your online space means that you need to be the one blocking and avoiding. You can't ask random strangers, possibly your enemies, to do it for you. Second, people are going to have all kinds of opinions on which content is Bad Enough to count even assuming they share a similar definition of 'proshipper'.

This kind of "Well, we all know what the Bad Stuff is" attitude tends to have a chilling effect on a space. People are all paranoid that their kinks might count and self-censor far beyond what the person who said it expected.

Honestly, aside from the constant misuse of the terms, my assumption is that public proshippers on Instagram and TikTok are mostly into extreme things because anyone less extreme wouldn't have the balls to be public. The amount of death and rape threats from antis wouldn't be worth it.

As for my "rules", I don't have any. This is my personal tumblr, but since I leave anon on, people send me lots of things. I post most of them, but I get so many now, that I'll sometimes cut off a topic that has dragged on boringly. I usually don't post the threats I get unless they're funny and I want to mock them.

Re teens in fandom, I got into fandom at 13 on Usenet and set about reading all of the freakiest porn available. I read far worse stuff outside of fandom. I was curious, as many people that age are. It never did me any harm, and it won't do any harm to current 13-year-olds to read dark shit.

The people who get fucked up already have a lack of decent mentors in their offline life, are reading things as self harm, are actually being harmed by the social side of fandom where they've found some creep for horny roleplay, are the subject of a public hate campaign, etc. That sucks, but it's not something I can control or that will get better if we exclude them from fandom.

Teens would be better protected by their parents removing TikTok from their phones than by anything to do with fandom. Its short form makes it ideal for poorly fact-checked soundbites that sound good on the surface but discourage critical thinking or nuanced engagement with a topic. Youtube et al. are also cesspits, but TikTok has elevated predatory algorithms and viral misinformation to a whole new level.

Now back to rewatching miniminuteman. Hahaha.

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theowritesstuff · 2 years ago

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Yours No More

Nikolai Lantsov x gn!healer!reader

Summary: Hiding an almost-relationship with the Prince of Ravka is hard enough, but it gets even harder to navigate feelings when he’s engaged to a Saint

Prompts: “are you really so oblivious?” & “it hurts, just how much I ache for you.”

A/N: What can I say? I love writing healer!reader. Also once again I’m mixing book canon and show canon

Sobachka - puppy

Moi tsarevich - my prince

Moi tsar - my king

SHADOW & BONE S2 SPOILERS

When thinking about your life, the young prince of Ravka seemed to be a prominent feature. There was before Nikolai, the life you lived before the palace, then there was after Nikolai, the life surrounded by other Grisha, serving the royal family.

You were offered up to the Lantsovs as somewhat of a personal healer, ready to tend to them whenever needed. The king and queen didn’t really have a need for a healer most of the time, and the older prince was often far from the palace. They younger prince however, the sobachka, had a tendency to dive headfirst into danger whenever he liked.

While this very well could have made Nikolai a thorn in your side, you’d quickly grown fond of him. It was impossible not to, what with his crystalline blue eyes, the blonde waves that adorned his head, and his charming, carefree spirit.

You’d been given an easy role. You’ve seen how other Grisha are treated amongst the other royals, sometimes even the soldiers from the First Army. Your poor friend Genya was dealt a terrible hand when it came to the roll she played in the palace, so you were grateful for the young prince’s kindness.

He became just as infatuated with you as you did with him just as quickly though. Whenever you ran to him healing a scraped knee, or when his parents sent you with him when he joined the First Army specifically to tend to him, you stole his heart little by little, until he could no longer call it his own. He almost looked forward to getting hurt, because it meant he could call upon you.

If asked he’d deny it, but he begged his parents to let him take you with him whilst he studied for his apprenticeship. They were hesitant to send you away, to lose their best healer, but Nikolai was persuasive.

He asked you to tailor him, just enough that no one would recognize the prince of Ravka on a ship. You reluctantly agreed, slowly waving your hands over his face, changing the features you’d grown to find comfort in. His blonde waves now a bright red, stark against his pale skin. His once sparkling blue eyes were now a muddy green color. The only thing that really remained of your prince was the ever present smirk he had.

“How do I look?” He asked you.

“Different.” You nodded.

“Good. No one will be able to pick me out of a crowd.” He looks over himself in a mirror.

“I could.” You stand behind him. “I think it’d be quite easy to pick you out.”

He smiles, but furrows his brows. “How so?”

“Well, let’s start with your posture. You’re still too regal. Relax your shoulders a bit. You’re no longer carrying the weight of a prince.” You place your hands on his shoulders, using your thumbs to massage the muscles. “Then there’s your charm-”

He quickly turns his head to face you, a bold smirk resting on his face. “You think I’m charming?”

You laugh. “I think you’re confident, sometimes overly so. I think you have this air about you that draws others to you.”

“Are you?” He asks, his voice barely above a murmur.

“Am I what?”

“Drawn to me?” He leans closer to you, his eyes shifting down to your lips.

Before he could press his lips to yours a sharp knock sounded from the door. You pulled away from each other quickly, both trying to hide your flustered states.

“Come in.” Nikolai called.

Tamar opened the door and poked her head in. “Love the new look captain.” She laughed. “Ready to go?”

Sailing the seas with Sturmhond took some getting used to. The few Grisha you knew helped you settle into this new life, while others in the crew wondered why their captain kept a healer so close.

You shared a bunk with a few of the other crew mates, but more often than not, Nikolai pulled you away to the captain’s quarters. He wanted to keep you close to him.

“What if someone breaks into my room and stabs me?” He asked, shrugging.

You shook your head. “Then you’d probably want the Bataar twins here to protect you.”

“Here I’d be. Laying on the floor, blood pooling out of my chest.” He collapses to the floor with a loud thud, a hand over his chest. “Slowly letting the life drain from my body.” He closes his eyes for a moment.

“Don’t be so dramatic sobachka. I know you wouldn’t take death laying down. You’d fight it until your very last moment.” You roll your eyes at him, but can’t help your smile from growing. “Even then, you’d probably drag your corpse to me.”

“I would.”

Occasionally, in the quiet night, he’ll allow you to wipe away the tailored face you’ve created for him, and bring back his softer Lantsov features. You brush a hand through his gold locks, pushing them away from his face.

He lets you admire him in silence. A clever quip waiting on the tip of his tongue, but he never allows it to escape in fear that it will ruin these moments with you.

“Moi tsarevich.” You sigh as your fingertips travel from his hair down the side of his face, tracing over his cheekbones.

“You don’t have to call me that.” He whispers to you. His eyes remain locked on yours as yours travel around his face, memorizing every detail of him.

“Nikolai then.” You give him a soft smile.

You reluctantly pull yourself away from him after a while, ready to tailor him back into his privateer persona. “It’s probably time for Sturmhond to return.”

“You sound disappointed.”

“Well,” now you smirk at him. “I think the prince is decidedly more handsome than the pirate.”

“Privateer. It’s an-”

“Important distinction. Yes, I know.” You laugh as you slowly tailor him back into Sturmhond.

Once finished you walk over to the other side of the room, where he’s added a bunk specifically for you. You blow out the few candles that were lit, and climb into your bunk.

“Y/n?” Nikolai calls from the other side of the room.

“Yes?”

“Do you really think I’m handsome?” You can hear his grin.

“Good night Nik.” You roll your eyes affectionately, rolling over to face the wall.

He falls asleep with a smile on his face, your new nickname for him floating around in his head.

You’d fallen into an easy routine with Nikolai aboard the Volkvony. You spent time with the crew during the day, tending to injuries, sometimes even practicing the heartrender specialties with Tolya or Tamar. Then the evenings you’d spend with Nikolai. You keep him company as he makes plans for where the ship is going and why, you show him what the twins have taught you.

“Watch this, I can adjust your heartbeat a little bit!”

He watches as you do the heartrender motions in front of his chest. He can feel his heartbeat quicken just a little bit, but whether it’s from your powers or your close proximity he’s unsure.

“You don’t need to use your powers to make my heart speed up.” He takes your hands in his and holds them to his chest. You feel his heartbeat through the thick blue coat he’s got on, and sure enough it’s beating faster than usual.

He’s smirking down at you, proud of how flustered he’s seemed to make you as you pull your hands away from his chest. You excuse yourself, and quickly leave him there, wondering whether or not he holds the same power over your heart that you do his.

Evenings are spent sharing moments with Nikolai, both of you teetering on the line that divides friendship and more. Quiet moments shared where you both wonder what would happen if you crossed that line. If you just leaned into each other, and took what your hearts most desired.

When Nikolai had taken in Alina Starkov and Mal Oretsev you were nervous. You knew Nikolai had a penchant for adventure, but harboring the sun summoner and a deserted First Army soldier was an entirely new venture.

You knew that he wanted to take them back to Ravka, to regroup with the First and Second Army there to find a way to destroy the Fold and take down Kirigan. He helped them find and kill the sea whip, giving Alina another amplifier to use, while you stayed behind on the ship, away from the danger.

Nikolai grew closer and closer to Alina as time went on, well after she learned who he actually was then punched him out of frustration. It was clear he was trying to create some sort of relationship with her, a type of alliance between the Ravkan royals and the living Saint.

Whilst Alina became closer with the prince, you started to form a bond with Mal. He was a bit hesitant about you at first, having a hand in keeping Nikolai’s identity a secret was a little hard to forgive, but he found you were a nice change from the air that Nikolai brought with him wherever he went.

“You spend practically every minute with him. You must find him insufferable.” Mal scoffs, watching Nikolai attempt to win over Alina.

It breaks your heart a little, watching him with her. It almost feels like you’ve been pushed to the side in his life. What was once a life long friendship has now turned into a mere partnership. He’s replaced you in his heart with a new Grisha, one much more powerful than you.

“No.” You shake your head. “His company means the world to me.” You tell Mal, quiet enough so he’s the only one that hears you. “You know what that’s like though. To spend so much of your life with someone that you form what you think is an unbreakable bond with one another.”

He gives you a sympathetic smile. He feels the same way. He knows Alina loves him, he’s sure of it, but like you, he fears that something could pull her away from him.

Being back in the palace separates you even more from Nikolai. Instead of sharing a room with him, you now occupy a room at the other end of a hallway from him. You both long for one another in the quiet night. His room is far too empty, and his bed far too large for just himself.

You think that maybe he’ll ask you to stay with him, like on the Volkvony. That you’ll share a space with him again and you’ll have that little bit of peace you once shared. But he never comes to your door, and you never go to his.

Nikolai doesn’t fail to notice your relationship with Mal starting to grow. While you once sat by his side during meals, Alina now occupies your seat, and you sit with Mal, laughing with each other about something only the two of you can hear.

He feels something in his chest, a sharp pain to his heart. This is something even you, the best healer he’s ever known, couldn’t fix.

You feel the same pain when he announces his engagement to the sun summoner. Unlike Nikolai, it takes a moment. He announces it at dinner, while the First and Second armies are gathered together, that their marriage will help heal Ravka. You’re frozen, too shocked to move. It’s Mal that pulls you back to reality, his hand on yours.

You feel the pain in your chest, a twisting sensation in your stomach, as you turn away from Mal to look back at Nikolai. He’s looking around at the cheering soldiers, but his eyes catch yours for a moment. He sees the red that begins to outline them, and the tears welling up. He looks like he might go to you, to assure you that you have his heart, and not Alina. But he straightens himself out, then sits back down.

He desperately wants to follow you as you quickly exit the room, no doubt heading back to yours. He wants to chase you down the halls, to wrap you up in his arms and wipe away the tears he’s the cause of, to whisper words of love against your lips. But he can’t. He must marry Alina for the sake of his country.

He keeps an eye on you at the engagement party his mother threw for him. You’re talking with other Grisha. You look breathtaking. The only thing missing from your ensemble is the Lantsov emerald. You don’t spare him one glance at all that night. That is, until chaos ensues.

Shadow monsters destroy everything in sight, and take the lives of so many. You search for Nikolai in the bustling crowd, but a hand grabs your arm, pulling you away. Zoya drags you away from the scene before you, tugging you through numerous hallways.

She leads you to a series of tunnels underground, all while you try to pull away from her.

“You won’t be of any use if you die trying to save the prince.” She grumbles at you. “You’re one of the few healers here, and we’re going to need all the help we can get.”

You hate to admit it, but as usual she’s right. There are dozens injured, some worse than others. You’re about to get to work when someone calls out your name.

You look down to the other end of the hall to see Nikolai. He looks fine, no visible injuries, but he does look distraught. He practically sprints to you, and pulls you into a tight hug.

“I couldn’t find you. You weren’t there, and I thought-”

“I’m fine, I’m fine Nik.” You pull away just enough to be able to look him in the eyes.

His scan over you, searching for injuries, until you lift his chin so he’s looking at your face again.

“I’m okay, I promise.”

He nods and takes a deep breath.

“Besides, shouldn’t I be the one worried about you? I am your healer after all.”

He huffs out a laugh. “Right.”

Alina pulls Nikolai away, asking if he’d seen Mal anywhere. You take that as your cue to leave. You start going from person to person, helping heal them in any way you can.

When it comes time to make a plan for Ravka’s next move, and Nikolai and Alina suggest finding the Neshyenyer, your mind starts to wonder. He’s sending Tolya and Zoya to go to Ketterdam and recruit the Crows to find it.

You think selfishly for a moment. It would be a way to get away from the soon to be king and queen of Ravka. A way to alleviate your heart of the pain you feel when you’re around them.

“I’d like to accompany Tolya and Zoya.” You tell him.

He looks surprised to say the least. “Why?”

“Well, there will be seven people looking for a mystical weapon, danger is bound to arise, they may need a healer.” You attempt to convince yourself and him that this is the reason you’d like to go.

“No. You’ll stay here.” He shakes his head. He can’t fathom so much space between you. “You’re my healer.” He puts emphasis on the word my, you don’t know if he notices it, but you do.

You listen intently for his heartbeat. It’s pace slowly accelerates as he starts to pace around the room.

You step in front of him, blocking his continuous path, and take his hands in yours. He closes his eyes, relishing in the feeling of having you so near. He leans his forehead against yours.

“I think we both know, I am yours no more sobachka.” You murmur.

He shakes his head and opens his eyes. You can see tears slowly start to build up. “If you insist that you must go, take this.” He reaches into his pocket, and pulls out his gold compass. “So you can always find your way back home.” Back to me.

The trip to Shu Han was definitely an eventful one. Tolya kept a watchful eye on you after being told explicitly by Nikolai to protect you at all costs. The Crows were an eclectic bunch, no one quite like the other.

Seeing Nina again was nice. She was still the same witty friend you remembered her to be.

“What? The prince let you off your leash?” She laughs when she first sees you.

“The king.” Zoya corrects her.

“Yes, he’s tending to his country, and his soon to be wife at the moment.” You tell her.

Her face falls slightly as she looks between you and Zoya. “Oh. My apologies, I didn’t-”

“It’s alright Nina. I’m really here to help forget about him.” You lower your voice. “Besides, he was never mine to lose.”

You stayed with Tolya through the heist, getting nearly killed by poisonous gas, and choking down a butterfly to save yourself.

Other than the poison slowly making its way through your body, the gas didn’t harm you physically. It lulled you to sleep, pulling you into a sweet dream.

You were with Nikolai, of course, in the palace. Light shone into his room from the large window, making the gold in his unkempt hair shine. His arms were wrapped tightly around you as you both lay the soft sheets of his bed.

“Hello my love.” His voice is deep, still strained from sleep.

“Moi tsar-”

He nuzzles his face into the crook of you neck, pressing soft kisses against the column of your throat. “How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that.” You can feel him smiling against you.

“Pirate Prince then.” You smirk.

He scoffs, then pulls away from his assault on your neck to look at you. “I wish we could stay like this forever.” He says, moving to cup your face with one of his hands.

You reach a hand up onto his bare chest, just over his heart. You listen, searching for the all too familiar rhythm, but you don’t hear anything. You give him a sad smile and shake your head. “Me too Nik. But I know this isn’t real.”

He pouts. “Promise me you’ll come back. Back to the palace. That you won’t find a new life in Shu Han, or Ketterdam.”

You know he isn’t real, that he isn’t actually asking you to come home to him, that it’s just what you wish he’d do. Even so, you press a kiss to his cheek.

“I promise.”

You wake with a burning sensation in your throat, in the dark temple. Tolya and the Crows are with you, some in a coughing fit, others completely silent.

Tolya comes over to you, and rests a hand on your shoulder. “Are you alright?”

You nod. “Yeah, I’m alright.”

His eyes scan your face. “What did you see?”

You know he can hear your heartbeat spike. He glances down at your hand as you subconsciously reach for the compass that hangs around your neck, hidden under you clothes. You know you won’t get away with lying to him, but you do it anyways. “Nothing.”

You’re grateful that he doesn’t push for an answer.

After retrieving the blade, you all head back to Ravka together. The Fold has now expanded, nearly covering the entirety of the Spinning Wheel.

“Stay with Zoya.” Tolya tells you. “You’ll be able to help Alina.”

Your heart yearns to go with the other group, to find Nikolai, but you know saving the sun summoner takes precedence over anything at the moment.

“I’m sure he’ll be okay.” Nina tries to assure you. “He was always headstrong.”

Kaz glances at you as you wring your hands, about to follow Zoya, Nina, and Inej.

“Y/n.” He calls to you. He walks over to you and speaks lowly. “Watch over my wraith, and I’ll keep an eye on your king.”

You give him a grateful smile. “Thank you.”

The journey into the Fold was terrifying. You kept yourself as silent as possible as the four of you searched for Alina. She and Mal were near the edge of the fold, fighting what looked to be a volcra. It had a hold of Alina’s hair, pulling her further into the darkness.

Inej slashed the monster with the Neshyenyer, killing it. They both looked grateful to see your little group.

“We need to get further into the Fold to destroy it.” Alina nods her head towards what looks to be nothing but pitch black.

You check over Alina for any injuries as you head further into the darkness. You heal any small cuts or scrapes you find on her, quietly watching her skin mend back together.

“There. In perfect condition to destroy the Fold and save Ravka.”

She snorts out a laugh. “No pressure, right?” She creates a small bundle of light in her hand and stares at it.

You smile at her. You want to dislike her, but you can’t. The living Saint who has stolen Nikolai’s attention from you is actually amiable. She’s kind, very brave, and willing to do anything to end this war.

“You’re going to make the perfect queen when this is all over.” You tell her.

She looks up at you and shakes her head. “I never wanted this. Nikolai thinks this engagement will strengthen Ravka, but I know my heart belongs to another.” She glances to Mal. “Just as his does too.” She turns back to you with a pointed look.

“What do you mean?”

“He doesn’t love me. I don’t think he could love anyone the way he loves you.”

“He doesn’t-”

“Oh, I assure you. He does.” She scoffs. “When I accepted his proposal I thought that maybe we could learn to love each other, but I see the way he looks at you. I hear the way he talks about you. I may be the sun summoner, but to him you’re the brightest. You’re the shining light in his life.”

You feel warmth spread across your face. Did Nikolai really feel that way about you?

“If we succeed today, the crown may be mine, but I promise you, the heart of the king will be yours.”

You understood just how strong shared love could be when you saw Alina light the fold. Combined with Mal’s power she was able to cast an immense light into the darkness. Flashes of gold and pink spread around you.

Kirigan arrived not long after, ready to fight Alina, but she was able to assail him. You rushed to Mal’s side when he collapsed, trying your hardest to help him. Kirigan had delivered a near fatal blow. In all your years of healing Nikolai, you’ve never had to heal something this large.

Alina falls to her knees next to you, taking his hand in hers. You do everything you can for him, focusing all of your power on keeping him alive.

Streaks of light flew from Alina. Reds, purples, and golds flashed through the sky, breaking apart the Fold. She takes a dagger from Mal’s side, and plunges it into his chest, screaming out as bright blue lights surrounds you. You shield your eyes, but can still see the blue behind your eyelids.

When you open your eyes again, the Fold has dissipated.

“Can you heal him?” Alina asks you, with tears down her cheeks.

“I’ll try.” You nod at her, then turn your attention back to the now unconscious boy.

Kirigan slowly rises up, and walks towards you. Alina stands up, taking a protective step in front of you and Mal.

“Now, you know sacrifice.”

“Beyond anything you’ve ever known.” Alina tilts her head up at him. “And look what it did.”

“Indeed. Look what it did.”

You try to start Mal’s heart again, but can’t seem to get it. Nina kneels down next to you, lifting her hand to his chest.

“I’ll get his heart started again. You focus on the wound.”

You take a deep breath, then pull the knife out of him, quickly moving your hands to sew his skin back together.

You’re so focused on saving Mal, that you don’t realize Alina has knelt down next to you again.

“He’s putting up a good fight, this one. Like something’s holding him on the other side. Give him a reminder then, of what matters over here.” Nina tells her.

After a few moments Mal wakes up, gasping for air. You sigh in relief, leaning back to check over the rest of the group. Inej and Zoya are both unharmed, staring down at Kirigan’s body.

Zoya stays with the body, while the other five of you start the hike back to the Spinning Wheel. Your spirits lift as you get closer and closer, and enter through one of the walls.

There are bodies strewn about on the ground, and groups of people gathered with hushed conversations. Their attention all turns towards your group as you enter though. Most of them are watching Alina, giving her silent thanks for finally destroying the Fold. Kaz’s eyes are locked on Inej, only briefly scanning over her, before he looks to you and gives you a slight nod.

You look past him to see Nikolai sitting with Tolya and Tamar. He’s got blood smeared on the side of his head, and he struggles to rise to his feet. He can’t seem to take his eyes off you, slowly limping in your direction. You rush to him, holding his waist with one hand, and the other pressed against his chest.

“Nik, what happened? I leave you alone for a few days and you nearly get yourself killed.” Your words are teasing, but your tone doesn’t quite match.

“I’m okay.” He smiles at you.

“Let’s go sit down so I can heal you, alright?” You guide him away from the group to a more private area. He sits down on a crate, groaning at the pain in his leg.

You heal his leg, then sit next to him, with your hand hovering over the wound on his head. He’ll have to wash the dried blood off, but you’ve closed the wound.

His eyes wander over your face as you heal him. He feels whole, complete with you here next to him.

“I should go see if anyone else needs any help.” You say quietly, rising to your feet.

He grabs your hand in his, softly pulling you down next to him again. “Allow me to be selfish for a moment, and keep you here all for myself.”

You reach into your top, and pull the compass out from underneath it. You lift the chain up over your head and hold it out for him.

“It seems you need it more than I do.”

“No.” He closes your hands over it. “It kept you safe. And it brought you back to me.” He whispers.

His eyes glance down at your lips, then back into your eyes. It looks like he’s having an internal battle with himself. A battle that only ends when he leans forward and brushes his lips against yours. You lift your hands to his shoulders to steady yourself. He pulls you closer to him, deepening the kiss.

Everything comes rushing back to you in that moment. You softly push him away, breaking the kiss, and turn your head from him.

“What? What’s wrong?” He asks, reaching for your hand again.

You pull your hand away from his reach quickly. “This isn’t right Nikolai.” You stand up and take a step away from him. “We can’t do this, not when you’re engaged to Alina. I can’t-”

He’s quick to get up and move to stand in front of you. “Y/n, I assure you, my heart belongs to you.”

“You can’t say that Nikolai. You can’t just play around with my feelings.” You shake your head and wipe away the tears started to form in your eyes.

“Play with your feelings? Are you really so oblivious?” He scoffs. He takes your hands and holds them to his chest. “Listen to my heart. Hear the way it beats for you, just for you.” He takes a tentative step closer, so close to you that his nose brushes against the tip of yours. “It hurts, just how much I ache for you.”

“But Alina-”

“Was just a political move. I thought that an alliance with the sun summoner would strengthen Ravka.” He takes a deep breath. “But a marriage with her wouldn’t mean anything to me, not when I could’ve had you.”

“Nik…” You trail off, attempting to gather your thoughts.

He lets go of your hands, and moves to hold your face. “Tell me to leave. Tell me you never want to see me again, that you’re going to leave and live in Ketterdam, and I promise you, you won’t ever have to deal with me ever again.”

You can’t fathom doing any of that.

“Or, tell me that you’ll stay here with me, and that we’ll work this out. Tell me that you feel the same way I do. Because I will find a way to rule Ravka with you by my side, I swear to you.”

A smile starts to spread across your face. “You always have been stubborn sobachka.”

Before he can retort you pull him into a kiss, sealing your own promise to him, that your heart does in fact belong to him.

#nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai lantsov #shadow and bone #shadow and bone x reader #grishaverse

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myfandomrealitea · 1 month ago

Note

i need to know... why do you proship? this isn't a hate ask, or anything meant to belittle you. i genuinely need to know. im curious and it's eating away at me. for context, i don't proship. not at all. i need to know. i'm so scared that i might be one of you

"I'm scared I might be one of you."

My god. Anon, I'm so sorry for whatever hate and misinformation you've been exposed to that has left you thinking this way.

Firstly, to summarize—pro-shipping is merely the belief in the freedom of fictional creation. That's it. While it does broadly encompass subjects like rape, incest, ect, it is both more complex and more simple than that.

You do not have to engage with, enjoy or be involved with any content you do not enjoy or agree with as a proshipper. You simply need to recognise it has a right to exist regardless of your personal feelings, and that the author has a right to create it.

E.g; you may not agree with incest, but you're also not going to go around harassing the people who write it and campaigning to get them to remove it. You just block it and pretend it doesn't exist. If content makes you uncomfortable, you just don't get involved with it or the people who create it.

I always say that 'proship' should actually just fully adopt the label 'profiction' because it now encompasses far more than just shipping.

It doesn't specifically have to relate to sexualised things, either. There are people who disagree with depictions of domestic abuse in media, power imbalance relationships, drug use, alcohol use, ect. Proshippers, even if they're not interested in that content, recognise it has values and existential rights.

You can be a proshipper and never even write or engage with smut. I know plenty of proshippers who exclusively create non-sexual content. I know plenty of proshippers who do but also don't create content with topics like rape, pedophilia, monsterfucking, ect.

As a personal example; genderbending gay ships into heterosexual ships always grinds my gears. I hate it. If I could, I'd wipe it from the face of the earth.

But.

People have the creative freedom and right to do it. Its not my business. I just block every tag imaginable, block creators who focus on it, and scroll the fuck on whenever it does happen to slip through the cracks like an unplugged load. Its not my place, my right or ethical to harass anyone over it. I don't have any authority to tell them to stop. I make what I like in my little corner, they make what they like in their's.

And that's the gist of it. It can go into a lot of depth when you bring things like censorship, art history and copyright into it, but we can skip that for now.

#myfandomrealitea #sephiroth speaks #fandom #proship #proshipping #reality #“i'm scared I might be one of you” what a fucking wake up call #Honestly I blame TikTok and Twitter at this point tbh

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august-anon · 29 days ago

Text

Brotherly Duties

Hey hey, @rosiesramblings! I cannot tell you how excited I was to be your @squealing-santa this year!! This fic was so fun to write and I love it a lot, so I hope you love it too!

When I saw your 3 prompts, along with your request for ler!Dick and lee!any-of-his-little-brothers, my brain went "Why Not All Three, Though?" So here's your batbrothers fic, featuring all 3 baby brothers and all 3 prompts! I may have gotten a little carried away lol

And also, a huge thank you to @cantsaythetword for hosting this year's @squealing-santa! You are hugely appreciated, Crow! I know hosting this event is no easy feat, especially with tumblr seemingly trying to block all avenues of communication. We all really appreciate you!!

(also obligatory warning to all that my characterizations are still very fanon-based, as I have been too busy to delve much into comics just yet lol)

____________________________

Brotherly Duties

Fandom: Batfamily (no specific source material/continuity)

Ship(s): Gen!!! Platonic!! Familial!! No batcest here

Characters (lee/ler): Lee!Jason, Damian, and Tim & Ler!Dick

Word Count: 6846 words

Summary: Whether it's to get his siblings to take a break or to stop them from being obnoxious little shits, Dick's patented brother-wrangling techniques are always successful.

[ao3 link]

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Dick didn’t think he’d ever get used to seeing Jason back in the Manor again.

He was used to forcing brotherly bonding by breaking into one of Jason’s safehouses, or cajoling Jason until he agreed to drop by Bludhaven for a movie night, with or without their other siblings. When Jason started dropping by the Batcave every once in a while, even if it was originally just to steal gear and gadgets from Bruce, Dick thought he might cry. Bruce almost did. And Dick finally did cry the first time he entered the Cave to find Jason giving Tim a few pointers on the sparring mats, because despite all the sarcasm and their argumentative tones, they were bonding.

Alfred, the miracle worker, was the first one to get Jason back upstairs, if only for a brief moment to pick up a care package that Alfred had put together for him. And once Jason had gotten through that first hurdle, it slowly got easier and easier to convince him to head upstairs for a bit, until Alfred had convinced him once more to start joining in on family dinners.

So walking into the den and seeing Jason engaged in a Mario Kart tournament with their baby brothers? Dick had to swallow that swell of emotion damned fast before any of them called him out for tearing up. And then he promptly vaulted over the back of the couch to prove who the real Mario Kart champion is.

Except, after (losing) only a couple more races, Damian was called away by a disappointed Bruce – apparently he had some big test coming up that he was meant to be studying for, but he’d snuck away to play video games with Jason and Tim instead.

Tim himself only lasted one more (lost) race after that before flitting off himself. Dick knew he was sneaking off to do some work, whether it was for their nighttime cases or something to finish up for W.E., despite the fact that he’d practically been ordered to take a break for the day. Dick also knew he was completely taking advantage of the fact of Jason being here, because Dick hated having to walk away when Jason was right there and willing to spend time with them and was unlikely to follow after and make Tim rest.

But Dick decided to let it slide, just this once. It’s not like he could reach his usual state of overworked before Alfred called them all for family dinner, and Dick could always force him to take a break later. Even if he had to sit on the kid so that he couldn’t reach his laptop. It wouldn’t be the first time.

And then it was just Dick, Jason, and the Nintendo Switch.

“You gonna back out, too?” Dick taunted, raising an eyebrow at Jason.

Jason scoffed, settling more firmly against the arm of the couch, bringing his socked feet up to rest on the cushions. It was a position he took up often when they played video games or watched movies here in the den when Jason was still a short, scrawny kid, all curled up like a cat despite being ready to spring up at any moment. It looked a little silly now, someone as large as Jason tucking his feet up like that, but it made Dick’s heart ache anyway.

“As if,” Jason said. “I’m gonna kick your ass.”

Dick couldn’t help but laugh. “Yeah, because you’ve been doing such a good job of that so far. Remind me, Jay, how many races have you won since I got here?”

Jason grumbled something that sounded rather like “shut the fuck up, Dickface,” clutching his controller closer to his chest. “Just pick the next race, already.”

Dick chose a track at random and settled in against his arm of the couch, locking into the race. Though it was a close race, Jason staying on his tail the entire time, Dick still won the race. And the next one. And the one after that. Dick couldn’t help but laugh, even as Jason fumed.

Jason chose the next track without a word, refusing to even look in Dick’s direction. Dick couldn’t wipe the grin off his face if he tried, and broke into even more laughter as Jason’s kart failed the startup boost and burst into a cloud of smoke. His laughter was quickly cut off as a foot jabbed into his arm, jostling him and making his own kart almost fly off the track.

“Hey!”

“What?” Jason said, as if he wasn’t stretched across the couch (curse his stupid Lazarus Pit induced growth spurt), and he shoved at Dick’s arm again.

“Cut it out, Jason!”

“I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about.”

Another light kick, this time to Dick’s hands in an attempt to knock the Joycon out of them. Dick cursed, barely keeping the controller from going flying, and Jason crowed as he pulled into the lead.

“Take that, Dickwing!”

“Jason!”

“What?”

Another kick, Dick just barely managing to evade it as he tried to regain first place. Jason’s second foot came into play then, one continuously jostling the arm nearest to Jason while the other tried to knock the controller from Dick’s hands. Dick couldn’t even fight Jason off, because he’d chosen a track with too many twists and turns to take his hands off the controller for too long. When the foot dedicated to shoving at Dick missed his arm and instead jabbed a toe into his ribs (which Dick totally didn’t flinch at, thank you very much), the solution came to Dick all at once.

He just hoped the Lazarus Pit hadn’t made his baby brother any less ticklish.

“That’s it,” Dick snapped at the next kick as he paused the game, grabbing an ankle in the same motion.

“Shit, wait!” Jason’s voice had gone hilariously high pitched, and he started kicking at Dick for a whole new reason. “Dick!”

“I’m not waiting for shit – you deserve this.”

Dick skittered his fingers against the socked sole in his grip and Jason grunted, sealing his lips shut. Unfortunately, Jason was a lot stronger now than he had been at thirteen, and he was easily able to rip his ankle out of Dick’s grip. He spared a moment to shove Dick into the arm of the couch with both feet before rolling over, trying to crawl over the arm of the couch to escape – as if that was somehow a better plan than just standing up from the couch and leaving.

Either way, it gave Dick the perfect opportunity to launch himself forward and sit across the backs of Jason’s thighs. Jason spat out a curse, kicking and twisting and bucking to try and throw Dick off to no avail.

“Get your fat ass off of me!”

Dick tutted, a habit he had slowly started picking up from Damian without realizing. “You’re gonna owe Alfred so much money in the swear jar by the time I’m done with you.”

Jason gave up on squirming, shooting Dick an absolutely lethal glare over his shoulder. “I’ll fucking kill you.”

“Mhm,” Dick said, absently, cataloguing Jason’s body language and facial expressions. “Sure.”

As skilled as Jason might have been at burying his thoughts and feelings (they were both trained by the Batman, after all), Dick was better at prying them out. Not only was Jason his first baby brother, as fraught as their relationship has been over the years, but he was the first son of the World’s Greatest Detective. Jason couldn’t hide those reactions from him.

The laughably awful escape plan, the lack of tension in Jason’s eyebrows, the twitching at the corners of Jason’s mouth. His nose wasn’t even scrunched up in anticipation of a snarl, which always happened when Jason was starting to get pissed off. Plus, while Dick could certainly take Jason in a fight (he’d been in the vigilante business a lot longer, after all), it’s not like he was extending a lot of effort into their little play tussle. If Jason had really wanted to throw Dick off earlier, he would have.

Jason was having fun.

And who was he to deny his little brother some silly goofing off? God knows Jason needed it.

And so Dick didn’t hesitate a second longer, reaching out to vibrate his fingers into the middle of Jason’s ribcage. Jason didn’t bother clamping his lips shut this time, instead burying his face into the couch as he let out a giggly yelp. His legs kicked out behind Dick, drumming against the couch cushions, and he tried to squeeze his arms against his sides for protection despite how awkward his position made it.

“Aww, Little Wing!” Dick couldn’t help but tease. “I think you’re even more ticklish now than when you were a kid.”

Jason peeled his face up from the cushion just long enough to shout a wobbly “Shut the fuck up!” before planting his face back in the fabric.

Dick laughed, squeezing sporadically up and down Jason’s sides just to watch him wiggle around like a frantic little worm. When they were younger, he used to curl up like a little pill bug whenever Dick or Bruce would tickle him, knees up to his chest and arms wrapped around his torso like it could ever save him from their wiggling fingers. It had never worked, of course – and was even less help to him when they realized just how ticklish Jason’s back was.

Speaking of…

Dick pulled his hands back, giving Jason a half-second of a breather, before delivering a series of sporadic, nibbling pinches traveling up Jason’s back. This time Jason shrieked, his legs scrabbling even harder at the cushions since they couldn’t curl up, and he reached back to try and slap at Dick’s hands. Being all bulky muscle now, he couldn’t quite contort that far anymore, so instead he settled for slapping at Dick’s knee.

“You dick!”

“Well, that is my name, Jay. Don’t wear it out.”

“You’re so fucking stupid!”

“I hope you know I’m keeping track so I can tell Alfred later. You’re up to at least six dollars, and that’s not even counting before I started tickling. You’re gonna get the disappointed grandpa look.”

Jason picked his head up to retort, but Dick chose that moment to start poking just below his shoulderblades, following along the edges of them. Instead of cursing Dick out again, he tumbled into bubbly giggles and shimmied his shoulders to try and throw off the attack. Dick laughed again, switching to prodding at the edges of Jason’s armpits.

“What’s-a-matter, Little Wing? Does that tickle? You regret messing with me yet?”

Jason’s laughter spiked, but it had nothing to do with the tickling. “You kidding me?” He warbled through his laughter. “I died, I’m not gonna break for a little tickling, Dickhead.”

Dick frowned at the death joke (he didn’t think he’d ever feel comfortable with Jason joking about it), but narrowed his eyes as the rest of the sentence hit him. He paused his fingers, but even though his panting giggles, Jason still kept trying to (very obviously half-heartedly) wiggle his way out.

“Oh, yeah?”

Something about his tone made Jason freeze in place. Jason slowly turned to look over his shoulder, making eye contact with Dick (bright, smiling eyes, and so full of life).

“Dick.”

Dick raised an eyebrow. “Jason.”

“Come on, man.”

Dick’s other eyebrow jumped up. “You wanna be tickled that bad?”

Jason’s eyes went wide and he started wiggling again. “Wait– no!”

Dick chuckled and wormed his fingers under Jason’s body, settling his fingertips into the divots beside Jason’s hip bones.

“Any last words?”

“Um. Sorry?”

“Hmm. I don’t think you are, though.”

And Dick dug his fingers in, squeezing at Jason’s hips mercilessly. The noise Jason let out was almost a scream before he fell into hysterical, hiccuping cackles. His body went limp under Dick, giving up on fighting or even trying to pill-bug for protection as he laughed himself hoarse.

“Are you sorry now, you little shit?”

Jason managed a mangled “swear jar” through his guffaws.

Dick grumbled, but couldn’t help but grin. It had been so long since he’d gotten to goof off with Jason like this. It felt like something inside him was finally clicking back into place, the final piece left to settle his soul ever since getting Jason back.

“Okay!” Jason wheezed, knocking Dick out of his thoughts. “Okay, I’m sorry!”

Dick chuckled, but stopped immediately. He swung a leg over Jason so he was no longer straddling him, but sitting against the back of the couch with his legs tossed over the backs of Jason’s legs. Jason panted and giggled and finally curled up like the little pill bug he was. Dick reached out and rubbed a hand up and down his back to help him calm down.

Jason’s eyes had drifted shut as he recovered, but Dick caught a shadow lurking out of the corner of his eye. Glancing up, he saw Bruce hovering in the doorway to the den, eyebrows drawn in worry. Dick inwardly winced, recalling the frantic scream Jason had let out only a few minutes before. He couldn’t exactly blame Bruce for coming running at the noise – and clearly just back from the office too, based on his attire.

But Dick just grinned at Bruce, winking and wiggling the fingers of his free hand in explanation. Bruce’s face cleared, his mouth twitching up briefly in amusement (what would likely be a chuckle on anyone normal) as his eyes melted in that fond way they tended to whenever Dick or his siblings did something Bruce found particularly endearing. Dick had to look away, always feeling oddly vulnerable under that gaze, and after a few more moments of staring, Dick saw Bruce’s shadow retreat. The warmth his smile had left in Dick’s chest had not.

“You know, Dickie,” Jason said, having finally caught his breath, “one of these days, one of us is gonna get you back.”

Dick laughed, briefly clawing up Jason’s back just to hear him squeal again before going back to rubbing it soothingly. “Keep telling yourself that, Little Wing.”

Jason scoffed. “You better watch your back. I’m bigger than you now, and I remember all your tickle spots too.”

The warmth still sitting in Dick’s chest turned into a swarm of butterflies. Fuck Bruce, actually, for tickling him in front of Jason often enough for that information to stick.

* * * * *

Apparently, being benched meant you couldn’t even run comms these days. Dick had to shove down the wave of frustration as Alfred shooed him away from the Batcomputer, as if a shoulder injury somehow meant he couldn’t operate a keyboard and talk into a microphone. He wasn’t an invalid, thank you very much. But Dick knew better than to argue with Alfred, and his tone brokered no room to do so as he told Dick to “go check on your brother.”

Because Dick wasn’t the only vigilante benched that night.

And as Dick picked his way through the Cave, Alfred kicking him off comms suddenly made a lot more sense. He could hear heavy breathing coming from the training mats, the sound of grunts and fists meeting vinyl. Dick sighed and changed course, heading for the training area instead of the stairs. Of course Damian was frustrated with being benched. He wasn’t even hurt.

Dick watched Damian train for a few minutes. His face was creased with irritation, sweat dripping from his jaw and hairline. Dick could see where the exhaustion pulled at Damian’s limbs, making his form sloppy and imprecise (at least, sloppy and imprecise for a former assassin and a current Bat). He had his fists wrapped properly in tape, but Dick could see his boxing gloves abandoned at the edge of one of the training mats. The velcro strap on one of them was broken, but whether it was from overuse or Damian’s frustration was unclear.

“Shouldn’t baby bats be in bed this time of night?” Dick called out eventually, kicking off his slides to step onto the training mats.

“I should be out on the streets with Batman,” Damian ground out, throwing a particularly vicious punch at the bag.

Dick sighed again, making his way behind the punching bag to brace it for Damian. “You know the rules, kiddo. No patrol before school tests, not even a reduced one. You need your rest.”

“It is a waste of time! My classmates are imbeciles, I could take the exam high on fear toxin and still get the highest grade of them all.”

Dick bit back a reprimand, seeing as Damian would certainly not be receptive to it at the moment. He’d been doing better with his peers recently, anyway – he had even joined the art club and started making a few friends. It was more than likely his anger talking than any real malice.

“I know how smart you are, Dami, we all do. But Robin still has rules, and they’re there to look out for you.”

At least, most of the time. Dick could still easily recall just how stifling a number of Bruce’s rules could get, and Damian wasn’t the only Robin to ever feel held back by them.

But Damian just heaved out a large sigh, briefly resting his forehead against the punching bag. “I know.” He just as quickly pulled back, fixing the scowl back onto his face. “But that does not mean I should neglect my training. Just because I am forced to stay in for the night does not mean there aren't ways to improve myself.”

Dick pursed his lips and glanced at a nearby clock (analog – all the digital clocks had been removed from the cave shortly after Jason started re-integrating. Dick still didn’t know who was responsible). It wasn’t too late yet, and Dick was all too familiar with how vigilantism could screw up one’s sleep schedule. If he tried to force Damian into bed now, he’d just lie there awake for the next couple of hours.

“Alright, Dami, we can train for a bit. But only for another 45 minutes, then it’s bedtime for baby bats.”

Damian scoffed and looked away, crossing his arms. “Tt. I do not need your assistance with my training. You’re still recovering.”

Dick rolled his eyes, then rolled his injured shoulder. It twinged a bit, but nothing like the pain when he had fumbled his grapple and almost wrenched it from its socket. “I’m fine – almost good as new! I can help you run through some drills, or work on your gymnastics.”

After some more prodding, Damian agreed to let Dick guide him through some new gymnastic and acrobatic moves, provided that Dick did not do anything to strain his arm and only stepped in when Damian needed it. They worked through a few flips and various ways to incorporate such moves into fighting. As always, Damian was a quick study.

And as always, Damian was far too stubborn and far too focused to quit when their time ran out.

“Dami, come on.” Dick rubbed at his eyes, feeling oddly tired himself despite the hours he usually kept. The injury must have taken more out of him than he realized, even as healed as it was. Maybe Bruce and Alfred were right to keep him benched for this long. “Time’s up, we can come back to it tomorrow when we’re fresh.”

Damian let out a frustrated growl. “I almost had it!”

“I know, buddy. And I bet you’ll get it even faster tomorrow, when you’re fresh and well-rested.”

Damian didn’t listen, continuing to try and execute the flip and only succeeding in flopping himself to the plush mats over and over.

“Damian.”

Damian did not budge. He flipped again, his body once again not reaching the rotation it needed to successfully execute the move. Except this time, Dick could track the trajectory – Damian would try to land on his feet, but at that angle… well, he would probably wind up benched for a lot longer than one school night.

Dick launched himself forward, managing to catch Damian around the middle to stop his momentum and halt the bad landing, but wrenched his injured shoulder in the process. He hissed a breath in through his teeth, hoping it was quiet enough that Damian didn’t hear, and lowered them both to the ground.

“I had it, Grayson!”

“No, you didn’t!” Dick snapped, then paused and took a couple deep breaths. Damian stayed quiet while he composed himself. “We’ll talk about what went wrong and how to prevent it tomorrow. Are you tuckered out yet?”

Damian crossed his arms. “If you’re so tired, then you go upstairs to bed. I’m fine to continue on my own.”

“Alright.” Dick took another slow breath to calm himself. “That’s it.”

Dick dug his fingertips into Damian’s sides, squeezing and wiggling away. Damian, clearly not expecting the sudden attack, had no hope for defense or hiding his reactions. He burst into boyish giggles instantly, slapping and shoving at Dick’s hands as he tried to wriggle away.

Dick grinned, the laughter of one of his baby brothers melting away his frustration faster than anything else ever could. “Maybe this’ll finally tire you out, huh?”

“Richard! Wait!”

Dick chuckled. “Why do you guys always tell me to wait? Wait for what, kiddo?” His hands converged on Damian’s belly, laughing along when his giggles got even squeakier. “It’s not like anyone’s gonna come to your rescue.”

Damian grumbled through his laughter, finally managing to wiggle out of Dick’s hold. “I don’t need a rescue, I can take care of myself!”

Dick let Damian retreat a few steps before hauling himself to his feet. He put on a show about it, stumbling around a bit and bringing one hand up to his head. “Uh oh, Baby Bat – better look out. I think I’m being taken over… by the Tickle Monster!”

Damian tried to scowl at him even as a goofy smile tugged at the edges of his lips. He clicked his tongue, watching Dick’s movements carefully. “Tt, the Tickle Monster isn’t real, Richard. I am too old for such childish games.”

Dick stumbled forward a few steps, reaching a jerking hand out to Damian. “Oh, save me, Dami! There’s only one thing that can help me now!”

Damian’s retreat faltered, one eyebrow raising in curiosity. “Which is?”

Dick grinned. Gotcha. “Your giggles!”

“I do not– Richard!!”

Dick laughed as he tackled Damian down to the mats, careful to twist them so he didn’t land on top of the boy or on his injured shoulder. He rolled so his own back was against the mats with Damian’s back flush against his chest, and made sure Damian was secure in one of his patented Octopus Grip hugs before resuming his attack. Damian burst back into silly giggles as one of Dick’s hands attacked his stomach, the other climbing up and down his sides and ribs sporadically. Every few seconds he would switch hands, and Damian squeaked each time without fail.

“What was that about not giggling, Baby Bat? What’s that I hear right now?”

“Shut up!”

Dick laughed, but laid off the teasing. The kid could only take so much playful embarrassment before he got genuinely upset, and Dick didn’t want to push it when he was already having such a frustrating night. He kept his tickling light, silly, and jumping, not wanting to overwhelm Damian on top of everything, but despite his squirming and protestations, there was no strain to his laughter or genuine undercurrent of anger in his threats.

Yeah, maybe Damian needed these giggles just as much as Dick did.

“Tuckered out now, kiddo? Tickle Monster’s happy to stick around if you’ve still got some energy to spend.”

“You’re ridiculous!”

“Well, in that case…”

Dick heaved them both up to a sitting position, barely giving Damian a moment of reprieve before reaching down to squeeze at the muscles just above his knees. Damian shrieked, laughter growing from giggles to guffaws. Though he kicked out to try and dislodge Dick’s hands, tugging at Dick’s fingers with his own, Damian still easily melted back into Dick’s chest as he laughed. Dick couldn’t help the fond smile that rose to his lips as he tapered the tickling off, pressing a kiss to the top of Damian’s sweaty head.

“Hit the showers, bud, then the hay. Got it?”

Damian huffed out a large sigh, clearly swallowing back residual giggles as he leaned even further back into Dick for a few moments. “Yes, Richard.” He hauled himself to his feet before holding out a hand to help Dick up. “Get an ice pack for your shoulder, and perhaps locate some anti-inflammatories before you head to bed as well.”

“I told you buddy, I’m fine–”

Damian shot him an unimpressed look. “I heard you when you saved me from injury, I know you aggravated it. I will tell Pennyworth if you don’t take care of it.”

Dick sighed, pulling Damian into a side hug with a gentle smile. “Always looking out for me, aren’t you, bud?”

Damian rolled his eyes, as if it was a stupid thing to take note of. “Of course. Just because you’re not Batman anymore doesn’t mean that stops.”

Dick pulled him in for a full hug at that. “You’ll always be my Robin, Damian.”

Damian hummed and gave him a quick squeeze before detangling himself from Dick’s limbs. “I’m serious,” he called over his shoulder on his way to the shower. “I’ll tell Alfred if you don’t take care of it.”

Dick grumbled under his breath, but obediently turned to head toward the medbay. If he wanted to help Damian perfect that flip tomorrow, then he needed to make sure his shoulder was as good as he could get it.

* * * * *

By the time Dick finished up his patrol and returned to the Batcave, Tim was already planted in the Batcomputer’s chair, hard at work despite the cast that now swallowed his left calf. Red Robin had taken a nasty hit on patrol, thrown full-force through an already-crumbling wall by an irate Killer Croc. Dick was just grateful that he hadn’t gotten hurt worse, walking away from that fight with only a broken leg was a near-miracle. Clearly Tim didn’t feel the same way, if his scowl was anything to go by.

Dick sighed and eyed the several Zesti cans littering the desk. Tim hadn’t even been back in the Cave for two hours. “Bruce is going to kill you. You know his rules about food and drink near the Batcomputer.”

Tim shrugged one shoulder, not bothering to turn around. “What B doesn’t know won’t hurt him. I needed the caffeine.”

“You should be resting, kiddo – Croc’s back in custody, it’s okay to take a break.”

“No time.” Tim waved him off. “Jason asked for my help tracking down some murders in Crime Alley, whoever it is is good. And Two-Face escaped last week and we’re no closer to finding him. Ivy’s seemed jittery lately, despite how well she and Harley had been doing, so I need to keep an eye on both of them. And I’ve got this case for the Teen Titans –”

“Whoa, Timmy – take a breath. Not all of that has to get done tonight.”

Tim took a deep breath in, then suddenly finally turned to look at Dick. His face was twisted in disgust, wrinkled button nose and all.

“You smell like shit.”

“Gee, I wonder why. Who could we possibly know that frequents sewers around here?”

Tim rolled his eyes. “Go take a shower, I can’t focus with you stinking up the place.”

Dick raised an eyebrow. “Maybe I’ll just stay right here, then. Drive you out with the smell so you can finally get some sleep.”

“I’m fine – I’m not even tired.”

“Tim, your eyebags have eyebags – just looking at you is making me tired.”

“Then maybe you should go to bed.”

Dick pinched the bridge of his nose. Getting Tim to take a break was nearly impossible, and he didn’t know if he had the energy or patience for it tonight after dealing with Croc. He was glad that Batman and Robin were handling things with the GCPD, letting Nightwing head back first.

“Look,” Dick said, keeping his voice light and level. “You have until I’m in civvies to clean up the desk and finish up, and then we’re both heading up to bed – even if I have to carry you up there.”

“Mhm, yeah, Dick. Sure.”

Dick narrowed his eyes at the back of Tim’s head. “I will sit on you.”

“Good luck with that.”

Dick held in another sigh and made for the locker rooms, snatching up some solvent for his mask along the way. He took his time in the shower for once, forcefully scrubbing the sewer stench off his body while letting the hot water ease the aches and pains from getting thrown around like a ragdoll. When he was finished and dried, he pulled on a soft, warm pair of sweatpants and broke into Jason’s locker to steal an oversized sweatshirt (it wasn’t like Jason used the Cave’s locker room often enough to miss his clothes – Alfred always washed and replaced them before Jason even noticed).

Smelling fresh and feeling cozy, Dick emerged from the steaming locker room and back into the chill of the Batcave. Tim hadn’t moved an inch in the time he was gone, still hunched over the Batcomputer. In fact, Dick could swear there were even more cans of Zesti than when he had left. Where was he even hiding it all? There was no way Alfred allowed that much soda into the Manor, let alone the Batcave.

“Come on,” Dick said, jostling Tim’s chair as he approached. “Let’s take care of these cans and catch some Z’s.”

Tim didn’t dignify him with a response, only throwing him a bloodshot glare. Dick took a careful breath and switched tactics. Flippant sometimes worked with Tim, depending on his mood, but it was more the tactic to use on Jason. Tim, attention-starved little gremlin that he was growing up, historically responded a lot better to affection – so long as it didn’t feel like coddling.

So Dick carefully leaned up against the back of his chair, reaching down to squeeze gently at Tim’s shoulders to try and get him to release some of the tension there. “Alright, bud. Anything I can help with?”

Tim shot him a hesitant look. “Not really. I’m mostly just combing through security footage for Jason, right now.”

Dick hummed, turning his squeezing into more of a shoulder massage. “Two sets of eyes are better than one, right? Let me help – you’ll get it done faster, which means you’ll get some rest sooner.”

“I thought you were tired.”

“Never too tired for you, Baby Bird.”

Some of the tension bled out of Tim and he blinked heavily before turning back to his screens. Instead of pulling up one of the spare office chairs they had tucked away exactly for this purpose, Dick continued to lean up against the back of Tim’s. It left him with easy access to Tim’s neck, shoulders, and upper back – all places he carried immense amounts of tension from hunching over computers and laptops just like this. He kept up the gentle massage as they reviewed Crime Alley’s limited CCTV, and despite Tim’s evident frustration with their lack of progress, his shoulders stayed relaxed under Dick’s ministrations.

After a while, Dick switched up tactics. One of his hands travelled down to rub at the gooseflesh along Tim’s arms, thanks to him only wearing an oversized t-shirt in a literal cave (though, notably, it was one of Dick’s soft old t-shirts, clearly stolen from his locker just like Dick stole from Jason’s, and something about that made his heart melt). The other hand travelled up, combing through Tim’s hair and scratching gently at his scalp. After a few passes, Dick could feel Tim fighting off the urge to go completely boneless. A careful peek over the chair and Tim’s shoulder showed his eyelids fluttering as well, valiantly trying not to close completely.

“I know what you’re doing,” Tim grumbled.

“Oh?” Dick’s voice was low and quiet, as soothing as he could make it. “Do you, now?”

“Yes. And it’s not gonna work.”

Dick hummed. “Seems like it’s working to me.”

Tim frowned, bracing himself for a moment, and pulled away from Dick’s hands, rolling the chair closer to the desk to try and create some space between them. Dick’s blunt fingernails caught on the nape of Tim’s neck as he rolled away, earning him a rather adorable little squeak and a brief turtling of his shoulders.

Well, there was an idea.

Maybe a different method of brother-wrangling was in order.

“Well it’s not,” Tim said, clearing his throat and shaking his head immediately after, clearly trying to wake himself up.

Dick sighed, long and dramatic. “Then I’m afraid you’ve brought this upon yourself, Timmy.”

Tim whipped around to look at him, eyes wide. “Wait– what?”

Dick’s only answer was a mischievous smirk as he rolled the desk chair even further forward, until Tim’s chest was flush with the desk. No squirming away on his watch. He leaned up against the back of the chair (careful not to put too much pressure, lest he crush his baby brother) to prevent Tim from pushing back and set to work, skittering his fingers around Tim’s neck and ears. Tim, tired as he was, immediately burst into bubbly giggles, unable to bury them like usual. His shoulders hunched up as he chased after Dick’s hands with his own.

“Dick! Wait, no!”

“No more waiting, Baby Bird! I tried to be nice, but it looks like now you’re just gonna have to giggle yourself out. Let me know when you’re ready to take a break from working, yeah?”

Tim squealed again, thrashing in his seat as Dick dragged all his nails up the length of his neck, bursting back into giggles as Dick went back to spidering all over the delicate skin.

“That’s not fair!”

“‘Course it’s fair, Timmy! It’s practically Big Brother Law that I tickle you a certain amount per week. I’ve been slacking lately – gotta make up for lost time.”

Finally, Tim managed to latch onto Dick’s wrists, and Dick let him pull them away, if only for a moment. He panted and tried to pout up at Dick, but the expression was rather ineffective when he couldn’t quite wipe the smile off his face.

“Come on, just let me finish? Just thirty more minutes, I swear.”

Dick titled his head, pretending to consider the offer. “Mmmmm-nope!”

At a speed even the Flash would be impressed by, Dick twisted his hands out of Tim’s grip and shot them down between Tim’s body and the armrests of the chair. Expecting the worst, Tim shrieked before Dick had even touched him, plastering his arms down against his ribs.

No matter, Dick could easily come back for those later if Tim kept being stubborn. Dick instead targeted Tim’s hips, readjusting so he was attacking from either side of the chair rather than from above. Tim snorted, which made Dick laugh, which made Tim’s hands shoot up to cover his nose and mouth.

“You’re such an asshole!”

“Sorry, what was that? I couldn’t hear you over all this laughter.” Dick vibrated his hands into Tim’s stomach, making Tim burst out into full-bellied laughter. “Man, it’s so loud in here, huh? That echo really carries.”

“Dick!”

“Hey, could you keep it down? I’m trying to focus on this CCTV here and you’re really distracting me right now.”

“Fuck you!”

Dick laughed again. “Jason would be proud.”

Tim’s hands latched back onto Dick’s wrists. Success. Dick grinned down at the rats nest that was Tim’s hair and put his plan into action, slowly crawling up Tim’s sides.

The thing was, having not been tickled much growing up, neither by the neglectful Drakes nor his friends, Tim was a bit inexperienced in how to defend himself. Despite Dick’s countless tickle attacks from the moment he named Tim his baby brother (long before the adoption papers came along), Tim had never really grown out of that.

For someone who was always thinking twelve steps ahead and had at least six contingencies for every possible outcome, Tim was on a rather one-track mind when he was tickled. Usually, that one track was simply Oh God, Stop Dick’s Hands. It was a sound line of logic – after all, if Dick’s hands stopped, so did the tickling. However, Tim rarely took into account how laughter weakened even the hardest-earned muscles and leached the coordination from even the most well-trained gymnasts. Dick knew from experience – he flopped around like a fish out of water when he got tickled. All this to say, Tim tended to forget that in trying to capture or push away Dick’s tickling fingers, he left open weak spots that were all-too-easy for Dick to exploit.

Like now, with Dick’s fingers slowly crawling onto his now-exposed lower ribs. Tim cackled and, based on the thumping coming from below the desk, was kicking his legs fiercely. He didn’t seem to realize that the higher Dick tickled, the higher his own arms went too, exposing all his worst tickle spots.

“Last chance, Baby Bird. Taking a break?”

“N-no! I have to finish–!”

Dick let out a fake sigh. “Then you leave me no choice, kiddo.”

Dick latched onto Tim’s upper ribs and Tim’s arms finally crashed back down, trying to launch a defense all too late. Tim wheezed before bursting into the loudest, most hysterical laughter Dick had ever heard anyone make (outside of Harley and the Joker, that was, but they were outliers and should not be counted). He tossed his head back against the chair and shook it, scrubbing his already messy hair into one big knot against the leather.

Even with Tim’s cheeks going an endearing tomato-red from the laughter, Dick didn’t stop. He knew Tim’s bull-headedness all too well for that. He poked and prodded, scribbled and scratched, searching around for those hidden little hyper-ticklish spots across Tim’s upper ribs and armpits with relative ease, despite the arms pressed against them.

“Okay!” Tim eventually shrieked. “Okay, okay!”

Dick didn’t stop his attack, but he did slow his fingers slightly. “‘Okay’ what?”

“I’ll – I’ll take a break!”

Dick blew a stream of air against Tim’s ear and neck, just to hear the squeaky snort he let out, his head jolting sideways for protection. “Hmm, I dunno if I believe that.”

“I promise! Dick, please!”

“Alright, alright.”

Dick chuckled and pulled back, wheeling the chair away from the desk and turning Tim to face him. His face was flushed, his eyes were teary, and Dick wasn’t even sure if his hair was salvageable at that point or if Alfred would wind up having to cut some mats out. Still, the dopey smile remained plastered to Tim’s lips as he went completely boneless in the chair.

“You, Baby Bird, are sleeping all day tomorrow. Even if I have to sit on you.”

Tim blinked blearily at him. “Don’t you drive back to Blud tomorrow?”

Dick shrugged. “The city can survive another day without Nightwing. Not sure my baby brother can go on another day without Dick Grayson.”

Tim rolled his eyes, but didn’t correct him. Dick fought off a frown. Maybe he needed to make the drive from Bludhaven more often, if Tim was missing him enough to not give him shit. Or maybe Tim was just that tired.

Either way, Dick pushed the thought away for the night. Deciding the cans were a lost cause for the night (which, Tim was totally getting grounded from the Batcomputer for those), he leaned down and swept Tim into his arms, tossing Tim over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Tim squawked in protest.

“What are you doing?!”

“Cashing in on that break you promised – we are having a movie night, all curled up in your bed–”

“It’s covered in W.E. documents.”

“– all curled up in my bed with warm blankets and Alfred’s famous hot cocoa–”

“You’re just trying to get me to fall asleep.”

“You’ll keep beating sleep off with a stick if I leave you alone. If I can get you to rest with some hot cocoa, brother cuddles, and hair pets, then I’m willing to make that sacrifice.”

“Oh no,” Tim snarked. “Dick Grayson being forced to cuddle, what ever will he do?”

Dick grinned and bit back a laugh, tweaking the back of Tim’s knee to make him yelp. “Watch it. Timmy. We can still go for round two.”

Tim grumbled under his breath, something about stupid big brothers and revenge, but Dick decided that could wait for another day. He had a baby brother to tuck into bed, and hopefully his own sleep to catch soon after.

#tickle fic #my writing #squealing santa #ss2k24 #batfam tickling #dc tickling #lee!tim drake #lee!jason todd #lee!damian wayne #ler!dick grayson #ticklish!tim drake #ticklish!jason todd #ticklish!damian wayne #dc #batfam #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake

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drabasp · 1 month ago

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Union Politics and the Karrakin Trade Baronies, or, Why Union Lets the KTB Do All That

Let me open this post with a small disclaimer: what I am saying here is not necessarily meant to be argumentative, nor is it targeted at anyone in particular. Lancer is a TTRPG setting, and as such is infinitely malleable in terms of setting alterations in order to suit you and your playgroup. This behavior is explicitly encouraged in the core rulebook and I encourage you to do it yourself, in order to better set the limits of what you might want to engage with in the course of play.

However, it has been my experience that it is usually best to understand the material that you're bending when you do so and I'm not entirely sure that some people do- an understandable problem to have when you do not just consume guidebooks in one sitting or fixate on the particularly fucked politics of some aspects of the setting. Of particular concern to me is the Karrakin Trade Baronies (henceforth the KTB,) one of two parts of the setting to get its own dedicated guidebook and the subject of the forthcoming module Shadow of the Wolf. It's a repressive aristocratic state that is home to some of the worst sanctioned atrocities in the setting, but also its a part of Union, so why does the "utopian" Union let them do that?

It's simple: the KTB is a vassal state in an extractive colonial relationship. This is text.

(Field Guide to the Karrakin Trade Baronies, p. 3)

The long and short of it is this- the KTB's initial encounters with Union were short and violent, as these encounters were with an expansionist Second Committee who coveted the KTB's rich resources. The first of these wars featured SecComm nearly securing an incredibly quick victory via an initial refusal to engage in ship combat in favor of simply barraging civillian populations instead:

(Field Guide to the Karrakin Trade Baronies p. 33. I recommend reading this entire section actually, as I find few Lancer sourcebooks willing to go this into detail about single events- the Battle of Kantus Void (starting p. 32) is described in great detail and is frankly quite horrific)

Only to retreat at the last minute in order to deal with the Deimos event. (e.g. the emergence of Ra on Deimos, followed by the First Contact Accords. One of the ramifications of this is that Union gets access to blinkspace and NHPs, which one might consider a Big Deal technologically.) The second war was won via an overwhelming technological advantage from SecComm as a result of the Deimos event , to the point where the Second Union-Karrakin War gets scarcely a paragraph in the book, and the result is the New Prosperity Agreement, as follows:

(Field Guide to the Karrakin Trade Baronies, p. 34.)

So: Union gets a treaty-guarantee that the KTB has no military fleet, a regular supply of the resources mined in the KTB (explicitly to fund the growth of Union Core), and the KTB gets the Dawnline shore, reparations, and the guarantee that Union will not depose their government. This treaty remains on the books with the transition to ThirdComm, because the demand for resources did not end with the end of SecComm:

(Field Guide to the Karrakin Trade Baronies p. 36. Note the term “printers” here, this is not Star Trek, there are no replicators, your mech was built with raw material that was probably sourced in part or in full from the KTB.)

That is to say: why has the Third Committee allowed the KTB to continue doing what it does? Because 1. There is a treaty saying protecting the existing government and specifically the nobility 2. That treaty is the thing that feeds its shipyards, printers, and the resource demands of its core worlds 3. The First Utopian Pillar says "All should have their material needs fulfilled," so any action that threatens Union's supply lines is viewed as a threat to Union's ability to uphold the Utopian Pillars:

(Field Guide to the Karrakin Trade Baronies p. 36, this one is actually a bit more of a stretch but this is the only thing I can imagine "Union relies on the New Prosperity Agreement to... uphold its principles" refers to.)

You may be asking a few questions.

Does this make absolve the KTB/make their existing structure okay?

Absolutely not. The existence of the structure of landed nobility over an ignoble population is a power structure that itself produces the problems like those seen on Free Sanjak- this is something I see a lot of existing ink spilled over and I think this is made explicitly clear just about everywhere. However, I think it is important to understand that the conditions that the Ungratefuls fight against are those involved in resource extraction, and those are ones that they identify as being ultimately in service to union, as Tyrannocleave says:

(Field Guide to the Karrakin Trade Baronies p. 82)

In fact, even the core guidebook notes that the Ungratefuls tend to regard Union as hostile for these reasons:

Lancer Core Rulebook p. 415, notably the edition that contains the GM rules and setting notes. All other citations from this source are the same.)

They also will target Union openly:

(Lancer Core Rulebook p. 415, paragraph truncated due to page limit in source, the opening lines were "Beyond this, Ungrateful activity ranges in scope from the local to the interstellar. Some cells focus on direct...)

The actual politics of the Ungratefuls are their own discussion, though, and this post is far too bloated as-is.

The same conditions that incentivize resource extraction as a precondition of survival also incentivize existing power structures in the KTB to sanction and allow the kinds of abuse on Free Sanjak. Resource limitations (also noted in the early pages of the KTB guidebook as growing) in the KTB are not a result of lack of material but a demand for export, and those limitations are never going to be felt by the nobility, who will inevitably guarantee that they will be fed, but rather the people.

That is to say- the conditions of the nobility existed prior to Union, but the continued abuses are informed by the Treaty obligations imposed by Union, and this is something that the Ungratefuls textually understand.

Is Union doing nothing?

As shown in that second to last rulebook excerpt, also no. However, the actions Union is taking are broadly informed by the necessity of maintaining plausible deniability. Union is funding and maintaining the Ungratefuls, but are unwilling to put pressure on what is an unstable larger diplomatic situation:

(Field Guide to the Karrakin Trade Baronies p. 81)

That is to say- their larger aid to the Republican Houses (Water and Dust) filters into support for the Ungratefuls, and the UIB hires free agents to run support for them in order to make Union's hands in the conflict seem clean. However, this does not mean any sort of direct intervention by any forces that have clear ties to ThirdComm, as they are unwilling to jeopardize diplomatic ties to the KTB writ large. Or, in short: Union Navy and the DoJ/HR are hands off for this one.

Wait, isn't ThirdComm supposed to be utopian?

I read Union as being a government with a complicated history that seeks to act in the direction of Utopianism. I think that what is textually true about the KTB and the way Union interacts with it, however, is proof of how complicated that project can be. To sanction the KTB is to remove the resource flows that make the Union Core a society that can easily uphold the First Pillar. To maintain this relationship is to continue the colonial legacy of SecComm and continue tacitly endorsing both the aristocratic, exploitative present in the KTB and the extraction that it now seeks to maintain. The compromise that Union has come to is to accept the resources while funding freedom fighters, a position that I wholeheartedly disagree with as a citizen under American Empire who finds that this "compromise" uncomfortably echoes similar situations in the real world, but I think that the inclusion of this in the setting serves to pose the question: what should be done, when you are building Utopia on still breathing body of Empire?

There's a larger discussion to be had here about Lancer as a Utopian setting, but that demands a word count that I think this post has no space for. Suffice it to say- I think that discussions of the KTB should consider this context more, because I think that this is a question the setting is asking, and it is one worth engaging.

#lancer #lancer rpg #lancerrpg #lancer ttrpg #karrakin trade baronies #lancer ktb #lancer meta #lancer rpg meta #lancer-rpg

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insanelyadd · 1 year ago

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#LetSansRest Day!

Hello everyone and welcome to year two of Let Sans Rest Day! Same as last year it's August 9th.

Before we get into some prompts, a little bit of a mission statement. Last year I said this day was for everyone who's a fan of Sans Undertale or anyone who's tired of every image they see of him being him Suffering. This is still true, but I do want to additionally address something I saw a few different people mention.

I have actually received criticism for daring to suggest that Sans not be tormented to the point of insanity, and that this day where I implore people to make realities where Sans doesn't become a creepypasta insane murderer man from the agony he is subjected to, isn't a stand against ableism like Let Papyrus Say Fuck Day is. *stares in bipolar psychosis and PTSD directly into your eyes* Obviously that's a load of shit, and even though Sans is more popular than Papyrus (I say, as a Papyrus Enjoyer) a lot of the content around Sans is very specifically about him suffering. So simply out of spite for these comments (including someone who saw last year's announcement and directly commented "No <3" on the post) I will be continuing this holiday indefinitely, just like LetPapyrusSayFuck Day. Die mad about it.

Just like how I have ADHD and relate to Papyrus and see the way the fandom treats him as the infantilization of neurodivergency like autism and ADHD, I can look at works in this fandom of Sans that demonize traits of mental illness like trauma, hallucinations, delusions, and mania. And I can say these are both bad actually. Not going to call anyone a bad person for engaging in these things, of course, that would be a bit goofy of me, I'm just saying the imagery used for these things is Very Loaded and a lot of people are mishandling them.

So anyways August 9th is the day we let Sans Undertale out of his Torment Nexus so he can:

Have lemonade at the beach or pool

Go stargazing while camping out in the woods with friends and family

Get smothered in cute baby kittens and puppies

Go to therapy and play with one of those magnetic sculptures all therapists seem to own

Take a nap on an inner-tube on a lazy river

Get to see the leaves change color for the first time

Play basketball with Papyrus

Fall asleep in a basket of freshly dried clothes

Go to a public greenhouse to look at all the different flowers on the surface

Perform stand-up for humans who all love his terrible puns

Please tag the post with #LetSansRest, #Sans, and #undertale as well as any other applicable tags for characters, relationships, etc. This day is primarily for classic Sans but it's not like I can stop you from drawing Fell Sans not being subjected to his own, personal, goth-themed Torment Nexus.

This is meant to be a day for everyone who wants Sans Undertale to go to therapy and feel better. People who want to put him in a hamster cage with plenty of things to prank for enrichment. People who want to win him one of those massive stuffed animals at the county fair.

If you want to participate please be mindful of some things:

I will be monitoring the tag to reblog things! I have ptsd and would appreciate if ships involving Papyrus or Frisk (and similar) with Sans are avoided. This is simply for my mental health and I greatly appreciate it. <3

Do Not post angst to the #LetSansRest tag. It is meant to be an angst free tag for him.

Don't worry if you can't participate on the exact day! Just like with #LetPapyrusSayFuck Day you can use the tag and post to it any day! :>

Hope you're able to participate and have fun! <3

#letsansrest #undertale #sans

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amelikos · 1 month ago

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Something about the way Gibeon said he doesn't want to look at Amethio anymore and the way Crave avoids Amethio's gaze (refusal and avoidance) adding salt to Amethio's wound and highlighting his need for validation and to be seen.. which, in turn, also reframes Amethio's interactions with Friede in the first chapter in quite an interesting way since Amethio asking Friede to not look away from him is one of the first things he actually screamed at him.

Looking back at their battle in HZ005, Amethio brought up a variation of "where are you looking/don't look away from me" three times (which is quite a lot).

This was the first time. (Friede looking away briefly because Roy managed to get some help for the ship and his crew, and Amethio immediately reacting to it by asking where he is looking.)

This was the second time. (Friede looking away from the battle once again because he was concerned about Roy being in trouble.. Amethio getting irritated and pulling the "don't look away from me" line.)

And this was the third time at the end of the episode. (Every time Friede looked away from the battle, it was because he was concerned about Liko, Roy, or his crew.. people he has the duty to protect. They were in trouble because of your subordinates, Amethio-)

However, even though Friede was distracted during the battle because of outside reasons, he was actually paying attention and these scenes connect to a later episode (specifically HZ022).

This was during the episode in which Galar Fire first appeared. Liko and Roy got separated from Friede, Amethio came across Friede in the mines and they engaged in a battle. At some point during their battle, they heard a cry (which was Galar Fire's cry) and they were both distracted by it.

Amethio quickly focused back on the battle, and Friede did so as well by specifically making a callback to the line Amethio told him 17 episodes ago at the time. (And both episode 5 and episode 22 were written by the same writer btw, so the reference to this line was intentional.) Friede focusing back on the battle and saying "I won't look away."

Quick tangent on their battle, but Friede's behavior stood out to me in this episode at the time because.. usually his confrontations with Amethio were more about creating a distraction or buying time and he wasn't exactly engaging in a battle with the intention to "finish" it. Their battle at the mine was the first time I felt like Friede was partaking in the battle with the intention to see it through the end. Liko and Roy were both separated from him in the episode too. Friede heard a strange cry from a Pokemon which could spell trouble for them. Friede really could have ran away from the battle to look for them, but he didn't. Even though he knew something was happening in the mine, at that moment, he decided to prioritize his battle with Amethio and said he wasn't going to look away from him. Which felt meaningful at the time, because he remembered what Amethio said to him (despite everything that was going on, and Rayquaza's first appearance later on which surprised everyone) and used his own line back at him. It felt like Friede was acknowledging their previous encounter at Roy's island, and wanted to continue where they had left off. Being able to continue that battle meant a lot for both of them.

And now, this specific exchange also feels even more significant with the additional knowledge about Amethio's family situation and the fact that Gibeon (his grandfather) currently refuses to look at him and that Crave (his father) avoids looking at him. (I'd be curious to know how Amethio felt when Friede used his line back at him in HZ022. I wonder if he heard him say that he wouldn't look away.)

In general, I think Amethio's "don't look away from me" feels more "heavy" now. It's pretty interesting to think that he looked at Friede and decided to project his issues on him. Like, his cries of frustration got to be expressed through Friede and he had the opportunity to put into words things that he might not usually say. (I think Amethio seeks validation from adults he might perceive as an authority figure, or who aren't below him in the hierarchy. Which is why this specific attitude wouldn't have worked with characters like Hamber or Zir, because they serve a different role and function in his story. It had to be Friede, and he was the only one who could pull out these sides out of him.)

Amethio was transferring that need for validation and to be seen onto Friede. Friede gave him that too, since he actually properly looked at him during their battles. Which, to me, also gains additional layers to it now, since we know Crave was Friede's former superior and someone who helped him become the person he is currently.. Crave seemingly doesn't approve of Amethio being involved in the Explorers (he doesn't want him to get involved with the Rakurium), and Friede stood as a "wall" in front of Amethio in the first chapter and stopped him from going too far and doing irreparable things while keeping an eye on him.. Unknowingly, Friede was looking at Amethio while Crave couldn't. Just like how Lucca entrusted Liko to him.

#it's a constant recontextualizing and reframing scenes with this series #which i really love. when early scenes gain additional meanings and readings #amethio #friede #crave #character notes #episode notes #iconic and meaningful of friede to be the first person to acknowledge amethio onscreen

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tls12lessthan3 · 3 months ago

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So. orvs metatextual nature and gay jokes. orv is an action fantasy book, a genre designed primarily for men and starring men. now most of these books are not gay, but there is often a tendency by audiences (particularly female audiences) to see some level of romantic tension between male characters. orv is no exception to this. some authors respond with outright hostility when they see fans shipping their male characters, and some simply ignore it completely - but some go the route sing shong does, and play it for laughs. before i go any further, i would like to clarify a term i will be using - shippers. while this literally refers to readers who think there is romantic potential between two characters, i will be using to specifically refer to instances where those two characters are of the same gender. im doing this because i cant think of a more elegant word to be completely honest, and this is tumblr meta so who cares.

orv is a metatexual narrative which is aware of its genre and aware of its readers. those readers are represented in the narrative, and sing shong knowing that fans would see a possible relationship between kim dokja and yoo joonghyuk made sure to represent that too. so we get uriel, the fujoshi angel who is constantly reading into kim dokjas and yoo joonghyuks relationship in a way that is often played for laughs. now ive certainly seen worse depictions of ‘shippers’. uriel is treated with affection by the main characters, who genuinely like her (and the fans she represents by association). her love for joongdok is implied to come from her having a crush on her friend and projecting, which i see as a kinder depiction than the usual ‘slavering fujo’ trope.

and perhaps most importantly her engagement with the story seen as just as deep as any other reader if not more so! uriel is one of the characters we see most changed by kim dokjas story - in every other universe shes a fierce and furious warrior, and while she never hesitates to kick ass in this round either, kim dokjas story has given her a solace that has made her significantly softer. she helps him out sooner than any other constellation, saving his ass in many ways during the demon world arc, demonstrating a deep investment we are clearly meant to be grateful for. wherever it comes from, uriels engagement with kim dokja’s story is shown to be a genuine and deep one appreciated by the characters. through this sing shong is almost directly speaking to the shippers in the fanbase who are often mocked or disregarded, saying that their love for the story is important too, wherever it comes from. i see this as sweet, and i like that unlike so many other authors sing shong recognise the role shippers often have in a story’s success.

however, i hesitate to give sing shong too much credit. because along with the genuine appreciation of uriel as a character and all she represents, there are jokes mocking her and those like her, and there are a lot of them! like i said above, sing shong wrote orv as a metatextual narrative that engages not just with the genre but with the genre’s fans. sing shong knew that people would ship their characters, as that is what happens with books like orv. and so they wrote in many jokes about it, jokes based around the ‘silliness’ of those who would assume kim dokja and yoo joonghyuk have romantic feelings for each other. and given orv’s metatexual nature, this also mocks the nature of shipping itself. when someone assumes kim dokja and yoo joonghyuk are together and they react with disgust, as frequently occurs in the earlier parts of the novel, we are meant to laugh not just at the misunderstanding - really, these guys gay, how silly. but we are also meant to laugh at the idea that these Protagonists are homosexuals, and at the people who make those assumptions. its a simultaneous acknowledgement and mocking of the queer undertones of both this story and it’s genre.

so you get this overall impression of a narrative that ultimately loves all of it’s readers, including shippers, but also isn’t afraid to say it thinks all that gay stuff is kinda silly. and while ebook edits have largely removed many of these gay jokes, an undercurrent of this still remains. from what i know this largely reflects sing shongs actual opinions at time of writing, whether or not they have changed later on.

dont get me wrong, i love orv, i love joongdok, i love their relationship and i do read it as romantic. i too read the scene where lee gilyoung insists kim dokja is into men and kim dokja responds aghast and gone ‘haha, gay’. as a queer person in the webnovel scene i am no stranger to taking homophobic moments like that and reclaiming them, making the characters queer and pretending the author is laughing with me and not at me. im not trying to preach to anyone here. but i also think its important to acknowledge the conversation orv is having here - its valuing of shippers and its mocking of queerness, and where they overlap.

#orv #omniscient reader's viewpoint #uriel orv

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felagund-the-valiant · 6 months ago

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Bring Back What Once Was Mine - Finrod x gn!reader

After the War of the Ring, you return home to Valinor, hoping to finally be reunited with your husband.

Words: 1k Tags: mix of fluff and angst, mention of canon character death, bilbo makes a cameo because why not

A/N: “being reunited after a long time“ is one of my favourite tropes, it‘s the perfect mix of angst and fluff. also i feel like finrod‘s apparent psychic abilities get overlooked way too often in fics, so i had to include them.

You never would have thought you’d see the white shores of Valinor again, after thousands of years. Waves of nostalgia washed over you as the grey ship approached the harbour. Memories of more innocent times passed through your mind. Of being young and in love with Findaráto, of a blissful marriage before the darkening. You wondered if he had decided to return to Arda, if there was a chance you’d finally see him again.

You still vividly remembered the day Orodreth had sought you out to tell you your husband wasn‘t returning from his mission. Up until that moment, you had been praying to the Valar that Findaráto’s vision had deceived him – that he simply hadn‘t interpreted it correctly. You were still amazed that you hadn‘t faded away right then and there, your fëa seemingly torn apart.

“What a magnificent sight!” You were drawn from your sombre thoughts by the elderly hobbit next to you, whose eyes were full off fascination. You couldn’t conceive what it was like to see the Blessed Realm for the first time, but you imagined it must have been overwhelming. “Your stories haven’t done it justice, (Y/N). I never could have imagined such beauty.” You simply smiled politely and nodded. Normally you delighted in engaging Bilbo’s worldly curiosity (only Eru knew just how many stories you had told him about Findaráto specifically), but the inner tension was robbing you of the energy to engage in conversation. What if he hadn’t returned? What if he would never want to return? Shaking off the thought, you told yourself to hold off on the negativity.

Stepping off the ship beside Artanis felt almost surreal. You had been gone for thousands of years and now it felt like you had only left yesterday. A large crowd of elves was gathered at the docks, each of them hoping to be reunited with their friends or loved ones, just like most passengers on your ship. For a moment you thought you had spotted Findaráto, but on second glance it turned out to be your father-in-law and you were once again stunned at how much his eldest son took after him. Your mother-in-law stood beside her husband, hope shining in her eyes as she scanned the descending passengers.

Artanis called out to her parents in delight and the three of them came together in a tight hug. You lingered behind a little, not wanting to intrude on the moment. It didn‘t take long for Arafinwë and Eärwen to take note of your presence, however, and you were taken into their arms as well. Has he returned? you wanted to ask but Arafinwë seemed to have already read your mind. “Yes,“ he simply said, “but he does not dwell with us, as much as it pains us. He seeks solace and only rarely comes to see us.“ Your heart sank. You knew how much Findaráto adored his family and to avoid them like this was entirely out of character. The horrors of his death must have still haunted him too much. Not that you could blame him – your own dreams had been haunted for weeks by what had been described to you of his death.

You strolled along the beach, following the directions Findaráto’s parents had given you. After a while, a house appeared in the distance – sitting lonely and far away from other dwellings. A lump formed in your throat. What would you even say to him? What would his condition be after what his father had told you? The questions echoed in your mind until you finally reached the house. It was simple enough, clearly not meant for more than two people.

A familiar, beloved voice reached your keen ears and at last you saw him. Harp on his lap, feet dangling across the water, Findaráto sat on the pier singing a song you knew all too well – he had written it for you in the beginning of your courtship. “Findaráto!” You exclaimed, adrenaline filling your entire body. He turned around at the call of his name and when he spotted you, he hastily sat aside his harp and started rushing to meet you half-way. The two of you collided so hard it almost sent you toppling onto the ground. You couldn’t tell who cried harder.

Even after thousands of years, his smell had remained the same – a mix of lavender and berries, with a hint of sea salt. You breathed him in deeply, feeling the tension leave your body and being replaced by a sensation you could only describe as coming home. Hopefully he felt the same. Entangling yourself a little from his embrace, you finally gazed upon his face. Not a thing had changed, even if this was not his original body – that one would forever rest in the depths of drowned Beleriand. One of your hands came up to caress his cheek and he leaned into the touch immediately. “I have missed you so much,” you whispered. It was an immense understatement, there were no words that could adequately describe the feeling of abruptly having half of your fëa ripped from you. “Me, too,” he whispered back and bent down to nuzzle your nose and press a tender kiss to your lips, sighing as he did so.

“I knew you‘d come back to me, I just didn‘t know when,“ Findaráto said, a shadow briefly passing over his face. He didn‘t need to elaborate, you knew he was talking about him having had yet another vision. Your heart ached at the thought of how exhausting it must have been for him these past millennia, living in constant uncertainty as to when he would finally be reunited with his beloved, as his visions had promised. Did these promises make him leave the halls early, foregoing valuable time of healing? You decided to push the oncoming guilt away for now. There was plenty of time for these conversations to be had later.

“Well, I‘m here now, and you best believe I‘m not going anywhere anytime soon.“ It wasn’t a mere promise. Nothing would ever divide the two of you again and no amount of sinister visions would be able to change that.

#tolkien #reader insert #silmarillion #finrod #finrod x reader #gn!reader

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caligvlasaqvarivm · 8 months ago

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I've been reading some of your homestuck essays, I think they're really good! I would like to know what you think about post-retcon homestuck and the interactions between reader and author throughout homestucks publishing. I was not in the fandom at the time of it being published, but I find this to be a very interesting aspect of the comic!

I was only on the fringes of the fandom at the time, but even that was enough to recognize that the fandom was absolutely awful. Every bad story you've heard about the Steven Universe, Voltron, and Undertale fandoms has its roots in the Homestuck fandom.

Pretty much as soon as the webcomic got popular on Tumblr, Hussie was put under intense scrutiny for basically every decision they ever made ever. I'm not going to say that Hussie was a perfect individual who never did anything wrong, because Hussie is a human being and that's how it works, but it's basically impossible to overstate how much the fandom tried to make an enemy out of Hussie.

The fandom was convinced that Hussie was their personal LE, and that attitude continues to this day - like, for an easy example of the fandom harassing Hussie for Literally Anything, when he stated that all trolls were bi/pan, to the point where they didn't have specific words for single-gender attraction, comparing it to a "more exacting preference" like somebody who only dates fat people - but that even within that framework, Kanaya was undoubtedly a lesbian character - people insisted Hussie was being homophobic. Fucking homophobic! For confirming all trolls are bi/pan, except Kanaya, who's a lesbian!

Other examples include: calling Hussie homophobic for John saying he wasn't a homosexual and Karkat literally not knowing what a homosexual was, because again, all trolls are bi/pan. Calling Hussie racist for making the kids aracial but accidentally leaving references to Dave having pale/pink skin in (because Hussie is a biased human person who can't be perfect and who did try to be more inclusive as the comic went on). Deciding that the dancestors served no purpose except for Hussie to be mean to their audience. Like there are valid criticisms to be made of Homestuck, but anything that was valid, nuanced, or thoughtful was drowned under a deluge of incoherent accusations of every -ism and -phobia that the fandom could possibly muster, the fandom as a whole racing to see who could paint Hussie as the biggest monster, even as they were harassing them to make more Homestuck.

Not to mention this was the era of rampant, unchecked ship wars and fandom misogyny. Not that fandom misogyny has gone away, mind you, but it's slightly more in check now. This was the era of fandom where it was normal to be sent death threats for shipping the "wrong" ship, and fandom ship wars were often encouraged by media of the time (love triangles were HOT - think zutara vs. kataang, team jacob/team edward, danny fenton/sam manson vs. danny fenton/valerie grey) because it drove up engagement. Homestuck was not really interested in shipping wars and love triangles - while many characters had circuitous routes and false starts, many were also pretty clearly set up to have specific endgame ships. But the fandom wasn't trained to behave that way, and the troll quadrants + canonical bi/pan trolls + active role of romance in the story meant that the ship wars were brutal - and also, Hussie was getting harassed every step of the way for not making peoples' favorite ships canon, a major part of a larger trend of people constantly ragging on Hussie for things not going the way they wanted plot-wise, to the point where Hussie had to comment on it constantly on his Formspring.

And don't think I forgot about the fandom misogyny! Here's a hot take for the class: Vriska is literally just Girl Zuko. She's ostensibly a noble from an imperialistic, warmongering, fascist society with an abusive parent who raised her with strict expectations, who thinks she has to act much more evil and more tough than she feels in order to earn the approval of her parent/society, and who secretly has misgivings and feels really bad about it and was set up for a redemption arc.

And people HATED Vriska. Vriscourse was so bad that many Homestuck fan spaces banned talking about Vriska at ALL, because just the mere mention of her name would spark massive, endless flame wars as people argued whether or not she deserved her little redemption arc (spoilers: yes, it turns out death is cheap in Homestuck and characters changing, growing, and becoming better is a huge part of the story) or whether or not she was justified in doing the things she did. Genuinely, I think a huge part of this intense hatred and anger was just misogyny. God forbid women have Zuko's character arc.

It was also part of two other large trends in the fandom - the first was that, despite finding every possible reason to call Hussie -ist and -phobic they could, the fandom itself was, ummm... "of its time." For example, the original March Eridan stuff was pretty clearly meant to be funny because, look, man in a dress! Isn't it sooo funny when Eridan wears a dress? (No hate to the artist, this was a long time ago and I'm sure they're a different person now.) The fandom was also constantly goading Hussie on WRT which characters were fat, and while we can argue about whether Hussie is fatphobic because none of the characters are canonically drawn to be fat, I'm going to go to bat for them on this: people treat the Fat Vriska jokes as though Hussie is the creepy weirdo exclusively, but the fandom was goading them on and thought that shit was hilarious, because that was what early internet fandom was like a lot of the time - at the same time as it harassed and decried creators for being problematic, it would turn around and delight in shitting on women, neurodivergent people, POC, and fat people, and Homestuck was rampant with it.

The second trend the Vriscourse was a part of was one that also hasn't fully gone away, but it's better now - wilful ignorance of the actual comic's contents. I'm not talking about the usual fandom fare of noncanon ships or "x character is trans/autistic/etc. even though I know there's no canon basis," which is all pretty damn harmless, but I mean like, memes and fanon would override canon and you would be outright harassed for not playing along. There are STILL places to this day that will call you an actual fascist, genocide liker, evil and irredeemable, etc. if you try to stick up for Eridan, even though Eridan is actually the LEAST casteist highblood and his entire character arc is about how his shitty fascist society makes him deeply anxious and unhappy. Similarly, you can/definitely would be be harassed for saying you don't like March Eridan and/or think it's OOC (it is), and I have nothing but sympathy for Gamzee and Equius fans, who also get it really bad.

The most vocal parts of the fandom, if not the majority, were people who were generally uninterested in engaging with Homestuck on Homestuck's terms, instead dead set on making up a version of it in their head and harassing people who disagreed, including Hussie. Echoes of that persist to this day - Equius, Gamzee, and Eridan get it bad, but practically none of the trolls have fandom interpretations that actually line up with who they are - Kanaya is actually just Eridan's bully (and did nothing to help Tavros after she caught Vriska kissing him), but people portray her as Nice Team Mom. Feferi is a casteist hypocrite who loves classism and calling people the r-slur, but people portray her as bubbly equality lady. So on and so forth. Like, damn, I barely participate in fandom and I'm out here meeting people who think Karkat ACTUALLY hates his friends like he says he does.

And then, of course, these people went and harassed Hussie because actual Homestuck did not match up with the Homestuck that existed only in their own heads.

On top of all the fandom harassment, Hussie was also facing ballooning scope. Most of Homestuck was a single dude drawing, writing, and animating it, and they would update every two or three days, sometimes less. So from the get-go, Homestuck was an INSANE project that demanded an insane amount of work and time from Hussie, and as it went on, it only got worse - and fandom expectations only got bigger. Suddenly, Hussie had to be in charge of merchandise, in charge of vetting, hiring, directing, and paying third-party artists, planning animations months if not years in advance, creating entire sections of the comic that had GAMEPLAY, directing ACTUAL GAMES, etc. ... there's an argument to be made that Hussie should not have taken on a workload they couldn't manage, but at the same time, the fandom certainly wasn't telling them to slow down. If anything, they harassed Hussie for every update, and were furious when hiatuses needed to happen to plan and execute some of the bigger moments later in the comic.

There's a Sarah Z video out there on the creation of the Homestuck game, which I think is OK if you take into account that Sarah kind of has fandom brain and is a little biased against Hussie (and I guess Hussie did send a spurious legal threat which is pretty funny but, y'know, understandable that Sarah would be peeved), where it's really clear that Hussie was not ready for the kind of responsibility, time, and effort needed to manage a whole-ass video game.

So by the time Game Over and the Retcon roll around, you basically have to imagine that Hussie has so many irons in the fire that the furnace is about to pop like a balloon, and the people they were making the damn things for in the first place have been relentlessly harassing them for YEARS, and weren't even that interested in engaging with the actual story in the first place. I'd say the majority of the fandom to this day STILL does not understand Eridan - how do you think they would've taken his redemption arc, and especially the fact that he was set up to date Karkat and Roxy? Given the pattern of their behavior up to that point... they'd probably harass Hussie and call them homophobic.

This is why I genuinely cannot blame Hussie for turning on the fandom and truncating their story. Vriska got upgraded to main character and had her character development reset because fuck you, fandom, you couldn't understand her redemption arc in the first place so now you don't get one. DaveKat got (kind of) made canon but as a weird throuple with the Mayor because fuck you, fandom, you didn't appreciate any of the actual gay ships that were set up so now you're stuck with brutally OOC DaveKatMayor. Karkat and Jake have their plot threads left hanging because fuck you, fandom, you never even noticed all the prophecies and symbolism and character arcs because you were all too obsessed with screaming at women and took the dancestors as a personal insult, so now the guy who's supposed to defeat LE and the guy who's supposed to bring equality and forgiveness to all bloodlines don't even get to participate in any of the important boss battles.

People call Hussie a troll, and they really aren't. If you read their old Formspring, they're clearly deeply fucking passionate about the art of storytelling, and switch between bafflement, mild indignation, and playing along when people ask them stupid questions. But back then, they were always very serious and genuine when they answered questions asked in good faith, and I'm being 100% genuine when I say that I've learned about how to tell stories better by reading Hussie's Formspring. Over time, however, those stupid questions became more common, and often morphed into outright harassment, and in response to that, Hussie's answers became more humorous and facetious, and the fandom - who was already trying to find ANY reason to hate Hussie - started to paint Hussie as an unreliable trickster and liar who got their jollies by shitting on the fandom.

Honestly, in doing so, the fandom was what turned Hussie into exactly that. Again, I'm not saying Hussie was a perfect baby who did nothing wrong - there's a lot of stuff to critique and scrutinize about their writing, their biases, and what topics they found appropriate to joke about. However, I AM saying that they were also just a human fucking being who was trying to write a good story, who was harassed at every turn, mostly for things that actually weren't problematic at all, whose words and actions were always taken in the absolute worst possible faith, and that the fandom is not fucking faultless, and if there's anyone that I'm mad at for how bad Homestuck ended, it's the fans.

That's my hottest Homestuck take.

#homestuck #i don't want to argue about any of the actual bad or weird stuff hussie's done #because i also don't care leave the guy alone already #i know enough to know that what they got from the fandom was WILDLY DISPROPORTIONATE #i have met people who believe that hussie fucking up the comic #is an UNFORGIVABLE ACT OF MALICE that 'hurt people the comic was important to'#and that hussie is ergo an unforgivable monster #who refuse to acknowledge that hussie received much fucking worse on a regular basis #and that it was retaliation and not a random act of evi #and it just. kind of. sucks?#like can this be the year where the fandom decides to be forgiving and compassionate #like troll jesus would have wanted

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