#except for to supportively like your moots' posts of course

[ir0nmoon]

Two blogs - who I'm convinced are the same person, though I could be wrong - have been ignoring my repeated requests that they leave me alone to send me harassment. I've clicked block more in two days than I have in over a decade on this website. I've been sent misogynistic slurs, insults about my presumed appearance, and even what seem like thinly veiled threats.

I thought they'd get bored if I didn't respond, but they seem to really like me judging from their non-stop messaging for two days straight! I've experienced online stalking once before, but I've never experienced such a disproportionate response from a total stranger. And over a disagreement about geographical terminology of all things!

[starriegalaxy]

Title : Birthday Delights (It Was YOU All Along) 

Posted on AO3 as well!

Tags : Fluff, romance, romantic-leaning, female reader, set in Fear Factor AU, FNAF daycare attendants, head chef bot (oc) 

Rated : General 

Synopsis : It's your birthday and don't your beloveds have a surprise for you! 

Note : I kinda based this on my b'day events a little but yes, enjoy reading hehehe <33 Also, there's like one suggestive-ish thing but it's more to like a grab but it's harmless HAHA okay go read and COMMENT PLSPLSPLS I need to hear thine thoughtssss ‼️💖‼️

Tagging : @crabsnpersimmons @amarynthian-chronicles @hexcii @kaprisvn @ping-ski and ALL MY MOOTS AND SUPPORTERS!! Thanks for making me feel loved 🥹💕

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

Another day, another year. 

Except this time, it’s a special day for you. 

Where the stars aligned and paved a way for your existence to be carved into the world. 

A star was born. 

And that was you. 

Wonderful, exceptional and brilliant you. 

Of course, that didn't mean you were off work during this time. Quite the opposite really, it was devastatingly busy. So busy, you blundered a bit when giving directions to visitors and had to bring up the map in your watch several times for help. This helplessness escalated into kicking the mapbot for being too annoying today and you tripped over the caution bots more often. 

Just another day, with twice the mishaps. Normal to you but when explained to others, has people looking at you with bug eyes, wondering how you still existed at this point. Nothing short of a miracle and some kind of fate, you would jest lightly. Oh, can't be dreary on your own day so you metaphorically swiped those thoughts with a broom and continued with your patrol. 

As it hit around 6PM, your feet were beyond sore. It wouldn't hurt to take a quick nap at the office, right? Debating for about half a second, you shrug and take your chances. Stepping in with a yawn, you sat on the chair, put on your jacket like a blanket and dozed off….. phew! Good thing nothing more exciting will happen - 

Ah. Nevermind, strings were being pulled in the background and everyone was determined to make you feel just as special on your day and as much of it as possible! 

Freddy got to work preparing a heartfelt letter, Chica prepared some music selections with Music Man, Bonnie gathered some desserts from his own parlor, Monty tried to find something but ended up custom making a guitar pick for you somehow and Roxy was selecting some of the color palettes that they had in store to give you whereas the caution bots practised singing the happy birthday song, the S.T.A.F.F bots were practising their dancing and skits - everyone had a task to do and they were all determined to make it as close to perfect for you! 

Meanwhile, Moon swiftly kidnapped head chef bot, threatened him to stay quiet and obey his next orders. Too afraid to even speak considering this animatronic was notorious for dealing with the previous staff bots, he could only nod in acceptance. As they reached the daycare, Moon continues carrying head chef bot until they reach the playhouse where Hannah frequently likes to play in. 

“Stay here. Be silent.”, Moon commands, placing head chef bot delicately into said house. A tad cramped, it was a good thing robots didn't have nerves that would flare if they sat the way he did for that long. Head chef bot nods frantically and tries to melt into the wall. Even after there was reassurance that the daycare attendants would be more civil with head chef bot when you were present… It was another thing entirely when it was only both of them left alone together. 

“Good.”, Moon rasps, giggling mischievously before patting head chef bot’s hair and scuttling off to find you. As always, they were sooo excited to see you any time and day but today was the one time, they get permission to be extra excited. Hat jingling with excitement, its sound awakens you as it shook about near the security office door. At first, you thought it was your phone’s alarm but quickly tuned into it properly and judged that it was the daycare attendant's bells. 

Rubbing your eyes to shake off the remnants of the sleep spells, you sleepily opened the door just a smidge to confirm the person behind it. Moon’s glowing red eyes greeted you, almost like a zoomed in picture and it scared the sprinkles out of you which resulted in punching him fully on the face by instinct. That hurt your hand SO bad. Oh well, he was also reeling back from the pain that set off too, his head legit spinned like 3 times from the sheer force.

“Moony! What'd I tell you about doing that?!”, you exclaimed, rubbing your sore hand while fighting back the tears in your eyes. “... It funny. Sorry.”, he holds his faceplate, then proceeds to grab your hands gently and tries to pat away the pain, making small smooching sounds against your skin. That made your skin darken in hue and you flap your hand out of his grasp. “U-Um, anyways, what happened?”, you flit your gaze downwards at your shoes, fidgeting with your tie. 

“Follow.”, Moon orders, getting on all fours. Huh. You would do the exact action he was doing right now but you decide against it. Also, judging by your internal clock, it was already closing time and right on cue, the automated announcement rang. It was somewhat halfway to the daycare when you announced that you couldn't take walking anymore and asked for uppies. Moon does a whole acrobatic contortion before scooping you into his arms, making you hang off him like a koala bear. 

A cute imagery to the daycare attendants, an embarrassing position to be had in. Augh. You don't argue as he subtly turns up his temperature and the soft warmth almost lulls you back into sleep. He squeezes your thigh cheekily once to keep you awake and then laughs when you tiredly whack him at his ruffles. With your arms wrapped around his neck and your legs crisscrossed to enable stability around his waist, you could do little and just enjoy not having to exert more energy temporarily. 

Murmuring incoherent and silly sounds into his shoulders, he slows to a stop in front of the gates. “Here.”, Moon announces and settles you down on the floor. You gave him an absurdly cute pout but he doesn't yield into carrying you again. Instead, he opens the gates and pulls you into the daycare, the sounds of his gears turning a comfort to your ears. “How was day?”, Moon fills the silence with the default 20 questions starter pack. 

“Tiring. Eepy.”, you murmur. “Stay awake, Starlight.” You whine louder and he giggles all the same. Relentless. Why do you like the daycare attendants? Booooo tomato tomato tomato!!! You pat at his back, where his hook would've sunk in. Moon pays no mind and guides you to the playhouse. Wha….t? The windows and doors were closed and you hadn't the faintest idea what could be stored in here and why it felt like he was shaking with giddiness…

“Moony, if you're thinking of pranking me today of all days, I'll let you know-”, he silences you with his finger and says, “Open.” effectively making your curiosity peak. Oh no… hate it when that happens. He subtly changes appearances into Eclipse in the background due to Sun wanting to get in on seeing your live reaction too. Stomping your feet like an upset bunny and making a displeased noise, you begrudgingly begin opening the door. All of a sudden, you were nervous…. What if it was a scary item? What if it was weird? What if - 

You pull back immediately once you open the door, afraid of what might grace your sights but paused in pure confusion at seeing head chef bot. As you stood there, waiting for whatever scheme these jesters had in mind, head chef bot was dragged out of the playhouse gently by Eclipse. The slow realisation that came to you when you saw Eclipse set him up like a makeshift doll made you want to laugh a bit. Poor thing looked so distressed despite the lack of facial structure for it. He must've not liked being kept there for too long. 

“Hey… eggtart.”, you smile, loosening your arms from their folded position and opened them for a hug. Funnily enough, he zooms right into your arms and you could feel him shake from whatever jitters a robot could have. It wasn't like he could have that tingly session alike humans when they've sat on their legs for too long… You chalk it up to the daycare attendants not really being good at sharing. Plus, you've seen how intimidating they could be when jealous. It took a lot of coaxing via apology kisses and cuddles… Sigh. 

You pat his back comfortingly and send a soft glare the attendant’s way. They show no remorse in their body language. Tch, of course. They were anything but dishonest with their intentions. It's become better… they were willing to spare a bit more time to head chef bot whenever you wanted his attention but it wasn't easy. The incessant dramatic whinings and subtle threats while the sweet boy didn't know anything, actually no - he knew close to nothing about love so they could at least cut him some slack in that regard. 

And they did. Again, not an easy feat but it was successful regardless. Sometimes. 

You tuck some of head bot’s hair to the side and kiss his temple while standing on your tippy toes. “Did the big bad daycare attendant scare you again?”, you ask carefully. That earns you a tighter squeeze and repeated nods. Sighhhhhh. “What do you have to say for yourself, mister?”, your glare sharpening. Eclipse scoffs, exuding Sun’s stronger personality while crossing his own arms. “I have the right to remain silent. Lest, our lady gets upset with us.”, he evades skillfully. 

“No kisses for today then.” A comedic quick turn of his head that would've caused a normal human to be whiplashed was given as a reply, flashes of neon blue and red evident in his eyes. “You wouldn't.”, Eclipse’s tone turns raspier, bordering on tipping into sheer static. “Try me.”, comes your auto reply. A few puffs were let out from his joints and with a spin of his rays, he looks away while muttering a, “Fine. I'm sorry.”, with a hiss in his pitch. If words could burn… 

You sigh again and let one arm open to coax him into the hug. “C’mere, baby.” His rays twitch, a rapid jut of in and out before he's scrambling to get in on the cuddle action. A burst of giggles is let out from you. “You can have kisses after you tell me what's my surprise.”, you delicately wipe his smile after kissing your thumb in a semblance of an indirect kiss. He leans closer but keeps his distance respectful as he holds you alongside head chef bot. 

“Temptress.”, he affectionately jokes, kissing your forehead and grabs your hand. Head chef bot rolls along with you both. “This way then.” He does a cartwheel before Moon is reassembled at the end when he's standing back up again. He crouches in his default silly way and tilts his head, hat jingling loudly. “Starlight, promise?”, your Sandman rasps, blinking to mimic fluttering eyelashes. Oh for crying out loud! “Yes. I do. Now c'mon, I'm curious!”, you urge him. Moon giggles, full of delight at the promise before opening the gates for you and your fourth lover. 

The walk there is quiet and both Eclipse and head chef bot were insistent on holding your hands on the way to your destination : the food court. Feeling a bit giddy and embarrassed as you got nearer to said place, you slip out your hands and tell them, “That'll do, boys. Thank you.” Pocketing your hands into your pants pockets, you walk further in and discover there were streamers lined up on the ceiling somehow - must be Moon’s doing - a small yet wonderful orange coloured with dark chocolate accented assortments of cream swirls on top, chocolate spiders and white frosted webs on the cake placed on one of the food court tables you'd been escorted to. 

There was a plate set already with plastic cutlery and a pink plastic Chica-themed cup along with plushies of the Glamrocks, presumably from the daycare. Oh, right. They were confined to night mode charging… augh. “Take a seat, Nightingale.”, Moon gestures to the chair. You sat down gingerly and stared at the cake in front of you. It was so cute. Head chef bot rolls next to you and signs, “You like autumn, right? So, I made this with that in mind. Happy birthday, jellybean.” 

Your eyes well with tears, putting a hand over your heart. A teary thank you and slight hiccup was given as a reply. Moon helps to slice the cake since you were already wracking with tears. Your uniform was undoubtedly dotted with said tears and you ate the cake that was spoon fed to you by Moon as well. Happy. You were really happy. “Thank you, you two. I love you all. Sun, Moon, Eclipse, head chef bot, Love you. Oh…”, you wailed after chewing the cake piece fully. Oh, that made their heart ache yet full. They both sandwich you in another hug. Warm. Theirs. Yours. Together.

“One more surprise.”, head chef bot signs through your bleary eyes. Another? Your heart was so impossibly frail right now - How could anything top this? Moon wipes your tears properly and closes them, blocking your vision. Head chef bot holds your left shoulder. The faint sound of heavy metal footsteps rings throughout the food court. Eh? It stops right in front of your table and you hear a few rollers sound off too. “Happy birthday, Starlight.”, Moon whispers, pulling back his hands to rest his left hand on your right shoulder. 

The Glamrocks appeared when you were able to see again, each holding their own respective plushie, brightness exuding in their poses. “Happy birthday, Superstar!”, Freddy bellows, holding his plushie in the crook of his elbow. “You're all grown up now huh, Carrotcake?”, Bonnie continues with a tease. “Another day with you is always a better day, cutie!”, Chica chirps with a high pitch, sending a wink your way. You shake with the overwhelming happiness that seemed to flow endlessly tonight. 

“Guess you're not that bad, shortcake.”, Roxy puts a hand on the table, leaning forward with a smirk in her tone. That makes you crease your eyebrows a bit but you know it's harmless. “Birthday or whatever runt, keep living.”, Monty offers snarkily. he caution bots and the rest of the S.T.A.F.F bots joined in and beeped ceremoniously, the “Happy Birthday Song” being hummed harmoniously. They didn't…. They didn'ttttt - You sob harder and Moon frantically pats your back and head chef bot also frets over you. Maybe that was a bit too much?

“Sorry, sorry, too much?”, Moon’s worried whispers snaps your attention like lightning. You could only nod, you don't trust your voice right now. It would most likely be hoarse. Augh. “Precious thing.”, he places a placating kiss on your head while head chef bot nuzzles into your hat affectionately. What'd you to deserve this? And why does it hit harder than usual? Your tears still flowed but you then bursted into laughter, hugging your lovers closely as the glamrocks joined in, various words of congratulations being said, the caution bots beeping cutely and the S.T.A.F.F bots clapping. 

Hey, the party’s just getting started - Oh well. 

What a wonderful day… 

And you're just as wonderful, Starlight. 

Happy birthday!

The End. 

[sameschmidtdiffname]

Oh my god?????

Okay... WOW!! This is amazing!!!

First off, as always, thank you for your amazing support!!! I know I say it so much, but I truly, deeply mean it. I'm only a few followers away from 300 followers, which is?? Insane?? The last time I was on Tumblr I thought I had a good following with 100, which I did! I mean, that's good to me lol. But that was over the course of like, a year? Maybe two? I've been posing here for like a month, so wtf (but GOOD wtf, GREAT wtf!!!) I'm not really sure what I want to do to celebrate that, but there'll probably be something. Like a fun ask game once we actually hit that milestone!

So, the true point of this post besides thank you for your support, is a few different things.

First off,

I am not closing requests. However, I have... 19 requests now... and I don't think I'd be that intimidated, except some of these stand the possibility of being written as at least a mini series, so it's more like I'm looking at 30+ guaranteed works if I factor in multiple parts to those requests.

That being said, I am now going to say from here on out

If you submit a request, I most likely will not answer you for one month from the time you submit.

Which is insane, I'm aware. But first off, I do work lol. Second off, there's a lot!! I've gotta at least get 19 works out before I can respond to new requests, so pray for me. And as I've said before in the past, I do not respond to requests until your work is ready. So do not expect a response until I've written it.

Second off,

for the next two weeks I am going on a writing break! I have a current IRL project that is now demanding my full time attention, and I also do not want to burn myself out on writing while wrapping up said IRL project. I'll still be on Tumblr probably, but it will probably mostly be responding to regular asks/shitposting/Hunger Games headcanons (I'm also so sorry to all of my moots whose amazing works I have not been reblogging. I do not have the energy for actual reading with everything going on, but I see you and I love you and i have a list of fics I plan on reading when I finally get energy 💗 I've felt so bad, you don't understand)

Third,

what's my posting schedule gonna look like after my break?

Well, I'm setting a low at minimum goal that I'm going to be posting one standalone fic and one part for at least one series every week. Once I get more time, it'll probably be more like three works per week, but that's for the future when I can breathe since I write better on days off/weekends instead of doing bits and pieces every work day. (Rememeber when I used to post like five works a week? Yeah. That was fun! Miss that!)

Overall, TL;DR

• Thank you for your support!

• Requests are going to take at minimum a month to respond to from this point out.

• I'm going on a small writing break, but afterwards I should be posting works hopefully twice a week.

I hope you all have an amazing day, week, year. I love you all. Please stay safe, and I'll see you next time for America's favorite new gameshow, "I Posted 'Princess' as a Lark and Honesty Expected 17 Notes, Period. How The Fuck Did I Get Here????"

[oatmealdaydreams]

*pulls up to the drive thru window* yeah can i get auhhhh whats the fic your working on abt!!!! (or ur fave one if you're like me and growing a whole garden of them) and also a Are there certain tropes you really like to put in your fics?

Of course, let me get that for ya!

*demonic screeching & a bunch of crash/clutter sounds come from the background; along with me shouting "NOT TODAY, ANGST-NO-COMFORT" in the back with a battle cry*

*I reappear, looking like I just battled various creatures of unspecified origin*

Okay, so here's Current Fic I'm Working On/Fave WIP; it's a combo deal, ya see.

I have an entire meadow/flower field of drafts I'm working on (think acres long of stuff). One of them I'm currently working on is something for my MLP blog; it's a hurt/comfort drabble with Twlight Sparkle (main protagonist) and Spike (main protagonist's family/friend). To me, Twilight is like the big sister and Spike is like the baby brother. Sanders Sides related? I'm working on a drabble called A Wilting Flower that's based on a post one of my other moots talked about (@/askfurrysides). It's platonic Roceit, hurt/comfort; Janus comforting a very hurt Roman. One of my faves? Oh, they're all my darlings... one good one is this Dukexiety MLP au with cracked-horn unicorn Remus, flightless pegasus Virgil, earth pony Janus & Patton, and unicorn Logan. There's some "gotta find my missing brother" type of stuff. Janus and Roman have a kinder, less angsty friendship in this au. It mainly focuses on Dukexiety and Creativitwins.

Oh, and here's that Certain Tropes I Write for ya!

What's funny is I was going through and moving around old Wattpad drafts from those ol' days, and found a lot of common tropes I still kinda write. In list form bc I can :3 For My Human AUs > making Patton & Emile cousins > making Virgil Italian > making Janus French/speaks French > making Logan and Thomas adoptive brothers, usually with Thomas being the lil kid brother > making the twins have a complicated sibling relationship with each other > making Remus and Janus besties always > making Roman and Janus have a less angsty friendship/relationship > writing everyone's POV that isn't Patton's > making Remy an older sibling to the twins or to Virgil In General > giving Remus separation anxiety and abandonment issues, especially when it comes to Roman > giving Roman so many insecurites, omg, the ANGST, I'm not sorry >:3 > making Virgil and Janus figure some form of reconciliation or putting their shit on the back burner in favour of the Others/Thomas > complicated siblings/doomed siblings Creativitwins > hurt/comfort always, except when it isn't > touch-starved Sides finally getting the support they so desperately need > Logince (Logan & Roman) where it's them being representations of Thomas' executive functions & what happens when burnout/brain fog/creative block happens > chosen family, my beloved <3

There's more in stock somewhere, I don't want to overfill your order.

Enjoy!

[arsenalgbt]

can i ask you your top 5 arsenal ship? 👀

(love your blog and works btw!)

CAN YOU---OF COURSE YOU CAN ANON, PLEASE, FINALLY LET'S GOURrr

it's so long grab a snack~

1.a. Aaron/Martin like, sorry I coined 'martindale' you saw it you heard it here on my tumblr FIRST. writing martindale? will be there. reading martindale? I will be there. screaming crying at their interactions caught in 4k? will be there. discussing with my fellow martindale believers? I'm in.

blame everything on Aaron mucking about Martin being the el parchio of the squad and my gunnerinnas' tags whenever Aaron says sth about Martin.

and how we all are a bit 👁👄👁 about our captain's behaviour around men 😋😋😋

1.b. Benjamin/Willo. anon I can write an essay........... but long story short, it's cuz they're such opposites!!!! visual wise and personality wise they're sooo chef's kiss.

this ship is just so VIVID in my fucking mind. older, kinda bitchy, secretly funny, definitely slutty, very cool benjamin/scary, menacing aura but looks about 5 y/o when smiling, actually younger, hilarious willo? obsessed!!! 🥰🥰🥰

(also I'll just say it again with my whole chest; I hailed willo as a babie way way before gunnerinnas began gushing about him. it was me and the thirsty twitter men. I did it. I love that now my gunnerinnas have come out supporting the babieliba agenda!!)

2. sakanelli 😭😭😭 ik I'm not too vocal about them but I rly rly rly like them, they're so precious to me hence they're second on my list. two starboys?????? imagine such iconic power couple, giggling, cuddling, nelli improving his English picking up Londoner accent because of his bestie B???---except I can and will only write G rated fics about them. sometimes soon, I hope. I remember one of my moots' tags, something along these lines; "it's so important to me that they both actually like each other" under a sakanelli post AND TRUST ME. oh the possibility. oh the 'started from the bottom now we're here' trope. they're my babies. I read a sakanelli fic on ao3 but it was so sad 😭

3. reiss/either Aaron or Jorginho....... I know. I KNOW IM SO QUIRKYYY CRIES. listen; aaron/reiss size difference? DELISH. jorginho/reiss being opposites (infuriating old man/calm, confused boy toy) PLUS reiss' babygirlism from one (1) video

literally I haven't stopped recycling this gif as my motivation to continue writing sugar daddy jorgi/confused reiss lol

tldr; it's reiss' face tbfh. he's so pretty... like... i CAN'T let such a pretty face go to waste (not writing fics about him lol).

fuck I think that's it?? cuz I like these three equally:

xhakarteta; BUT eye think eye am just a reader. it's so hard to get their characterisations right (for the standard I set for myself lol). thus, I'm afraid/lazy to get my hands on writing actual plot for them 🫡

Aaron/benjamin; again, amazing, time proven, OG friends to lovers trope, etc etc but I'm just a reader for them I guess!!!?????? same excuse with my view regarding xhakarteta. them fics I read??? LOVE THEM. Aaron is soooooooooo whipped, so golden retriever coded. spoiler alert; I'm writing an Aaron/Benjamin/Martin threesome as we speak :O

ZINNY/GABBY OH GOSH!! Zinny is clearly so into gabby but gabby is this sexy workaholic who is never aware of the attention he gets from men (multiple). iktr.

honorary mention, I used to and still have a soft spot for giroud/ramsey. like... goddamn rambo was thirsty... and granit/ramsey as well ngl... OH ALSO; nelli/fabio lmaooo gawd these twinks...

PSA; in my hc, Aaron Ramsdale had a crush on Leno 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣 OKAY NOW TELL ME YOURS! thank you for reading thanks for liking my works!!!!

[shijiujun]

on the danmei twitter fight

okay guys i didn’t wanna say anything about this and yes it’s that hot danmei twitter translations saga thing that’s going on, because honestly i feel like there’s nothing much to say but when i see dumb posts on tumblr taking about that, by people who present a misleading hot take and their friends or moots run off with it without even knowing what exactly is going on - it really pisses me off.

and also if you shit talk translators for not continuing their translations or locking their translations whatever - the door is that way on your right and left, but anyway here’s a rundown on what happened because i am seeing people make comments without two brain cells put together, without the slightest bit of consideration for the people who bring them translations

here’s my hot take and thesis: if you enjoy english translations made by fan translators, you don’t, in any way, no matter happens, shit talk fan translators. fan translators do this for free, and whatever their intentions are, whether genuine sharing or like some of you like to say, for clout, if you consume, and you enjoy these translations, i’m sorry, you’re not uninvolved, and you don’t get to sit on a high horse and say translators should or shouldn’t do something. you should just keep quiet, honestly, because someone else is doing you a favour, a favour that you are enjoying and taking. that’s what respect is.

i’m presenting both sides or i guess three sides of the story as objectively as i can, altho my support is still for fan translators who were just minding their own business before this blew up.

===

🔺 what happened:

so it started because one of the bigger translators in the fandom did this poll - i’m not blaming her at all, i doubt she had any intentions of shaming anyone or causing any controversy and was plain curious, but her poll asked english speaking danmei twitter how many people buy the digital, print copies of the danmei they read, and who did not. 

in my honest opinion, it’s not strange at all for her to have created that poll, considering just how much work she’s put into making sure things are accessible for the eng-speaking danmei fandom. i mean i’d be curious too, to know out of my thousands of readers, what the reading and buying behaviour is like. do yourself a favour and don’t read too much into it.

obviously in an era where a lot of people do consume content for free whether the underlying content is profit-making (like anime, donghua, manhua, manga etc.) or not (fanfiction etc.), it was unsurprising to see that the last option - the ones who consume danmei without paying a single cent, came out as the majority. i don’t think this is a surprising result at all, for all sorts of reasons that i will not get into now.

anyway, this is obviously kind of a sore point in the fandom especially for translators who want a wider audience to support their fave author’s works - i won’t get into that for now, but the issue began because other translators or fans started to criticize the majority of people who don’t pay for objectively rather affordable danmei and just consume things for free. 

and yes, i don’t deny that the argument on both sides got really heated and emotionally charged with both sides calling each other names which i believe is uncalled for, but it totally derailed the crux of the issue, which basically is that the majority of english-speaking danmei fandom - consumes danmei for free.

anyway this whole thing escalated and fan translators were brought into this for no fucking reason at all except that the people who didn’t want, or were unable to pay for the danmei they usually consume, made what i call a LOGICAL FALLACY in argument by going to the extremes, i will explain why later.

the end result is that fan translators were brought into this (most of them, the bigger ones i know at least) without even participating in the direct crossfire. and obviously, you can see why they’re hurt and decided to lock their translations. let me explain why

===

🔺 kind of like four camps:

(1) translators and fans who criticized those who consume danmei liberally but do not pay for them in any way - no merch, no digital copies, no physical copies, no audio dramas whatever

*** their arguments:

danmei is so cheap right, that technically people should be able to pay for it in one way or another, even if not all

danmei and its authors are, at the end of the day, out here to earn a living, and the industry, like any money-making industry, is a for-profit enterprise - and unlike public goods, if you cannot afford danmei, then there is no obligation for others to make it free for you (fan translators or otherwise, it wasn’t super clearly stated while this shitshow happened) when it is inherently a for-profit industry

yes, i don’t deny that some of them did call the peeps who don’t pay at all, “leeches” and other sort of names. personally, i wouldn’t go that far or even like venture there to be honest because in general, if it’s something that i’ll get punched in the face for if i called someone that in real life i tend not to do it, but i’ll leave my opinions, whatever they’re worth, for later

(2) the readers and fans of danmei who do not pay in any sort of way for them

*** their arguments:

some of them really cannot afford, even the dollar or more, to spend on danmei for several reasons: upbringing, culture, money-spending mindsets, real poverty, struggling to make ends meet etc. - some definitely more valid than others (and when i say not valid, it’s because SOME, a minority or like those few stragglers, say they cannot afford and then you see them like idk, throwing $50 on other merch on kpop and stuff - i’m just bringing up ONE example. not shaming anyone for spending more money on one aspect rather than the other, but yeah you can see why some of them, when making this same argument, are a little invalid, that’s just a small number of them tho)

if translators are blaming them for consuming free of charge, then the fault lies, at its foundation, fan translators who translate illegally, which i mean, in that definition, all of them including me 

did i mention that we were called illegal translators like you know in response to being called leeches? anyway-

(3) others translators who literally were just minding their own fucking business before some smart alec dragged them into it

i don’t think most of us had an argument. we were just quietly munching on popcorn and staying out of it and yeah, can you imagine, we provide a service, however illegal it is, for free on our own time, we don’t even check whether people support legally or not, we just... provide, and pray that those who are able to, at least support in some small way or another do so, on their own time. i mean i don’t check, most of us don’t, not the bouncers at your local club before COVID happened do, and then suddenly, to be used to derail an argument, we were called illegal translators. and that we should stop translating, and that it is our fault that there are free riders in the fandom

(4) people who offered to provide JJWXC credits to those who said they couldn’t afford it etc.

honestly i think they were just trying to help - no different than a gofundme. there’s no shame in taking a free thing that people already weren’t intending to pay for. it’s there, just take it!

===

🔺 the shitshow that led to fan translators locking their stuff up:

i would provide some actual examples in the form of screenshots but i’ve blocked most of them, and i don’t want to direct any sort of traffic to them so i guess you’ll have to take my word on it or go search on twitter yourself but-

(1) the affordability issue: i can understand the frustration at being called leeches, and some if not a majority of people, do have valid reasons for not being able to afford something or anything and end up pirating content they enjoy. hey, i am not about to crucify anyone for pirating at some point in their lives. we all have done it at some point, or for example hate disney+ and that $30 they were trying to rip off us for a subpar Mulan live action. i don’t have anything to say about that. inherently, is it wrong and illegal? yeah sure of course it is. do we call people leeches? i wouldn’t go that far.

if anyone cannot afford, cannot access for whatever reason, fine, i’m not gonna go check if jjwxc truly is banned in your country, or is your postal service so terrible that you definitely won’t be able to receive a hard copy of the book you like at affordable rates.

and if you have to pirate? go ahead. i mean it’s always been a rampant thing. the only thing fan translators and fans can do is encourage, motivate and incentivise as much as possible to get people to support legally. they can only put up REALLY COMPREHENSIVE guides as to how to access jjwxc or taobao or whatever. 

and if you still cannot afford it and pirate, honestly no one cares about the story behind it. you owe no one justification, just as how no other person is obligated to take it into consideration or understand you or empathize with you. i don’t say this in a malicious way - i do think that in general, you just do you. 

(2) the poor people don’t deserve nice things argument: honestly, this was not the point of this entire debacle, altho yes, people were rude to those who could not afford to support legally. but this is not the point of this whole thing.

main point - there are free riders who can support but choose not to because they choose to just consume it for free and if you are able to you should support

everyone going off on a tangent - you guys hate poor people / you guys are leeches

well guess what, no one wins in this argument. 

there were a lot of people saying “reading danmei is our only source of happiness, are you saying poor people who can’t access legally don’t deserve to read danmei” (this is just one example i’ve seen, there are other variations), and it wasn’t put across perhaps in the right way, but the other camp of people were saying “you’re not entitled to it for free if you cannot afford it”, which raised a lot of hackles and anti-poor yellings 

altho i do not deny that there are those who mean it maliciously, i think what everyone is trying to say is - the danmei industry, like any other profit-making industry, is looking to make profits. the people working in the industry, the authors even, are looking at numbers - traffic to jjwxc or other legal platforms, how much revenue they’re making from their live actions etc., comments, rankings, etc. i think @/hunxi-after-hours made a really succinct post on this aspect which yall should read.

it’s the same as - if you wanted to purchase a standee which costs $20 USD, but you cannot afford it = you don’t get it. there’s no way you can get this standee unless some gifts it to you for free. what the camp trying to ask people to support legally is saying, is that danmei is NOT A PUBLIC GOOD. it is a private, for-profit product. it might be intangible, but it is a PRODUCT that has a price that needs to be paid.

if you cannot afford it, you either don’t get access entirely (i’m saying this objectively and honestly from an economic standpoint). if someone gifts that standee to you for free, count yourself lucky - if someone makes a danmei accessible to you for free, COUNT YOURSELF LUCKY. you don’t have to be grateful and treat them as gods or like obey their every word, but it’s not rocket science. someone did you a favour that you accepted and consumed, show some respect. 

if you cannot afford to buy the standee - you do not go on twitter demanding that someone ensures that you have access to the standee for free. do you see how ridiculous this sounds once it’s a tangible product? and danmei novels ARE PRODUCTS. they are not FREE CONTENT. if someone cannot afford the standee, this is the equivalent of people going “we didn’t get the standee for free because poor people don’t deserve nice things”

totally missing the point. i don’t even know how it got to this. once again, i do admit that some users were unnecessarily mean, but going to the extreme of this is ridiculous. in argumentative essay writing we call this a logical fallacy:

e.g. “if you cannot pay for merchandise or danmei, it is a fact that you might not have access to it” morphing into “if we cannot pay for food, does this mean we cannot have access to it?!” - this is a slippery slope, and factors are not equivalent!!!! do they not teach people anything in school

don’t confuse fanfiction with danmei - danmei novels ARE PAID PRODUCTS unless for free chapters, just because it’s released online doesn’t mean it’s free public property, and also selected novels (did you guys know the WHOLE of SCI novel is free? about 500 chapters sorry, random, just a tidbit)

there are of course nuances right, like if anyone told me they were pirating disney+ content i’d be like yeah hey get one over those bloodsuckers, they take enough of our money and produce shit content anyway. the difference is that danmei authors, and the danmei industry itself can still be considered a nascent and not-yet matured industry, with a majority of authors if not all, depending on monetary flow, likes, comments, virality on the sites their content is hosted on, for a living, unlike hugeass MNCs trying to squeeze us dry for content that isn’t even interesting.

danmei is priced rather reasonably - and this brings me to another argument that was made, that the value of money is not the same for everyone. i don’t want to make comments on this because yes this is correct to a large extent. a $6 book might be cheap to most of us, but might be expensive to someone else. i’m not gonna comment on how cheap or whatever it is, if you gotta use your money for other things, definitely! i still maintain however, that a novel less than a dollar should be affordable to most people, a majority of people. and i definitely side eye some users who obviously have money but are just creating noise because they wanna continue free-riding

(4) the “they’re losing out on their international audience” argument: honestly, i feel like english-speaking danmei fandom gives themselves a bit too much credit. danmei has long thrived in china in its domestic market - sure the international audience is a plus to have and i’m sure the authors are grateful and flattered that people who don’t understand chinese love their content and love it a lot, but do they and their companies care about fans who basically don’t bring in money? i’m not sure (okay i’ll get to the fan translators doing illegal shit later okay i got it don’t be impatient)

and international fans are great, i don’t deny that - but when i see arguments like “oh but it’s their loss if they don’t cater or deny access to us, they get more popularity and sharing overseas”, i honestly think they don’t care as much as you think. once again, hunxi made a really good argument regarding non-sinophone audiences, but it really irks me, because this is the same as:

an instagram influencer saying they’ll give a restaurant exposure for free to their followers, if they get a free meal

it’s par for par - danmei authors wants earnings, popularity, tangible results that show that they are succeeding. this is life. if i put something out there for sale, i better be getting returns, simple economic logic. they probably don’t care that a non-paying reader is bringing them greater ‘exposure’ - once again, i mean this objectively. 

and yes if they’re thriving without the international market then why should it matter that people are pirating right? which brings me to the next point~

(5) it’s fan translators faults for so many people pirating, and fan translators are the ones doing the “illegal” work: this one is like... wow where do i unpack this and how-

firstly, we are talking about assholes who can pay but decide to free ride and not pay for danmei, and we assume that if you really cannot afford and have to pirate, no one’s saying anything as long as you don’t go around spreading how to pirate, how the hell did it get to fan translators from “you guys are anti-poor” and whatever

yes, fan translations are indeed illegal, i don’t deny that, and i also don’t deny that there are translators who translate for clout and popularity but putting these aside - here’s what i have seen from people who ran their mouths and made this argument

“if you guys care about us pirating the book so much than fan translators shouldn’t have translated in the first place” and “if you wanna come after us for reading illegally, then fan translators, you guys should go get the copyright for the book and then translate it cuz what you guys are doing is also illegal”

hooooo i’m telling ya, i am all for translators locking up their translations at this point. see how fucking hurtful that is? you eat from my hand and then now you biting at the hand that fed you the gays in love?

honestly if you’ve made this argument or supported this, you can basically go to hell. yes this is personal because what, you think fan translators don’t take out their personal time and effort and hard work to make translations accessible to you? if you’re ever consumed and read translations, don’t be a hypocrite and make this argument. you benefitted from it, now you wanna say it’s their fault? 

most translators want to share and spread the love they have for a novel right, want to show you how wonderful all these authors are, how much enjoyment u get from reading these wonderfully thought out stories of gays in love. yes we all know we are illegally translating, which is why on top of sharing we first, purchase the novels legally ourselves first, and then we try to encourage people to buy etc. and actually put their money to use. it doesn’t make it any less illegal, but we are bridging the gap between danmei and basically the english-speaking fandom, albeit illegally

we aren’t that self-important to ask for gratefulness but some respect would be nice. like i said, you read it, you consumed it, you enjoyed it, you can only access it because of illegal translators - a bit counter-intuitive to yell at these translators, who are simply telling you, if you can, please support. and none of us went “if you cannot afford, begone!”

===

🔺 some people tried to help by offering jjwxc credits so people who cannot afford as they say, can get legal access: honestly, just take it right, guess what some of these users did in response

they said the people giving away credits are trying to redeem themselves for their comments by giving away free stuff

they also said that we are trying to shame the people who cannot afford it with this handout to them, to show that they are the bigger person - the fact that they think this is a handout to them is TELLING. the people offering this is giving their money not to these readers, but to the authors! that’s the point of this exercise!!!

one of them even said “instead of trying to do these giveaways, here, there are greater world problems out there, donate instead to these causes” - love the initiative, but how did we get from being able to afford danmei and entertainment content to saving the world? i just- i cannot

===

🔺 so why i get why fan translators are locking up their translations, because wow, so hurtful:

you have no idea how many fucking assholes went “sure, lock up your translations, deal with the consequences” - ermmmm firstly, thanks for making a threat. like who the fuck do you think you are?

the consequences is... the authors still don’t get the money these free riders weren’t going to give them anyway, so no loss, and they weren’t reading on jjwxc anyway so you know, the authors don’t lose or gain any readership numbers or traffic they didn’t already have. instead, it WILL push and force people to pay for the PRODUCT. once again, it’s a product.

this works, and i’d say Word of Honor’s payment model worked marvellously for Youku, because they fucking forced everyone to pay to access content. ALL OF THEM. sure ok some people still pirated it, but how many MORE people paid on Youku, on Youku Youtube, watched on Viki etc. than if they didn’t? even english-speaking fandom were wracking their brains trying to purchase a Youku pass even if there were no subs initially - and other examples that lovely hunxi brought up in her amazing piece

and for translators?! honestly me for one, i’m glad i don’t feel pressured anymore to churn out a chapter every week since we get called names etc. most of us are glad to have a break to be honest. we’ve lost all motivation to translate because it’s a free service, at the very least we don’t expect like hate, or rudeass fuckers. for those who are doing a proof of purchase thing - go for it honestly! 

hopefully it’ll minimize the free rider problem - some people for whatever reasons really cannot buy or support legally, that’s totally cool and they don’t have to justify it, i get that. but for others making the same argument but obviously are just unwilling to pay because they can’t read chinese, think it’s too troublesome when there are guides and translators provide it for free anyway so what’s the point - we all make concessions and make decisions to grab what we like (not talking about the ppl who have their various troubles and difficulties!)

===

🔺 and those who are saying why is it the ‘rest of us suffer’ from locked translations just because of a few bad apples:

IT ISN’T ABOUT YOU. where the hell were all of ya when we were getting called illegal huh? it’s about us fan translators getting shot at for no reason, and then people still demanding things for free. i don’t see any of the people i’ve seen on tumblr complain about fan translators stopping or locking translations defend any of us in any way. instead, you’re complaining.

it is the translator’s prerogative to start, stop and end translations, unless of course the original author starts to sue i suppose. i see people on tumblr going like if they were gonna do this, they shouldn’t have started in the first place etc. - i don’t what world you live in, but when i do something for free, then get called names and am attacked or get dictated on how i should do something that’s already like free, i tend to be less generous.

i’m sorry, do us illegal and free translators owe ANY OF YOU? i wasn’t aware any of us were being paid for this hobby. readers, especially those who CAN and just refuse to support, don’t get to say SHIT. translators deal with so much shit and so many entitled readers, i say they get to lock whatever they want as long as they aren’t profiting off of this monetarily.

let me give you an example - nan chan, which is translated by lian yin, completed translations by the way for all chapters. it is all free for viewing, and she only locked up one extra and asked for proof of payment. some dumbfuck quotes that locked up extra chapter tweet and said “honestly, this turned me off reading this novel because they restricted access”.

the. fucking. entitlement. the whole of nan chan is free, that’s like what more than 80 chapters. she locked up the EXTRA and the money goes to the author, she doesn’t earn anything. AND HERE THAT BIJ is (yes, i’m going to call them names because you know, fucking asshole who didn’t bother to check) going “yeah i didn’t wanna read because 1/80+ chapters were locked”. 

AN EXTRA. LITERALLY AN EXTRA!!!!!!

at the end of the day, translators are not like DYING to translate, not like some of you are DYING to read the translations. once again, this isn’t a “BE GRATEFUL” message, it’s a please be respectful to the people who put in time and hard work for free and share the goodness ya know? what’s the use of yelling at fan translators as if we owe you anything?

================

🔴🔴🔴 TOO LONG DIDN’T READ 🔴🔴🔴

some people may need really need to pirate - and no one needs to justify why they cannot afford to purchase etc. pirating happens all the time, translators only hope that when you can, and in whatever way you can, to support legally - in general we don’t ask and we get it! we’re just annoyed that some people think that it SHOULD BE FREE, when it is a paid product, especially for those who CAN afford it

readers are not entitled to shit on translators for what they do with their translations - once again, you’re not OBLIGATED to have it. so what if i start and stop? i’m the one doing the work, i get the only say. don’t be a hypocrite and shit on translators, whose works you’ve read - it’s no loss for translators, we read and enjoy danmei just fine

yes, fan translations are illegal, but you can’t read and enjoy them like some of you have, and then turn around and point the finger at translators - a lot of us are happy to stop translating - this isn’t a threat, but at the end of the day, shitting on translators simply decreases access, and sure, some people can indeed live with you know, MTL or shitty translations from people who’ve learnt chinese for only six months or whatever, but you’re gonna be reading an entirely different book tbh

the people saying illegal translators are at fault - funnily enough, most of them consume the translations, so what the fuck? i mean we know it’s illegal, we’re trying to share the love and trying to minimize the illegalities of it by redirecting people to hopefully support legally. it’s still illegal yes, but i think it’s hypocritical for people who have read translations, stab translators in the back. and now that translators are indeed ‘restricting’ and ‘removing’ their ‘illegal translations’, yall yelling again? and threatening?

fan translators aren’t “elitist” or “classist” - just looking for some respect in a community which seems to have taken them for granted, and also looking for support for their fave authors - and honestly a lot of us were caught in the crossfires truly, don’t be an asshole and demand things from fan translators - who are you talking about? do you know why they decided to lock? do you know know what their locking system is like and what for? 

it’s not EASY to lock the translations up - it’s more admin work, it’s putting together a whitelist of people, if given the choice i’m sure translators would prefer to share everything. but not when there are assholes who have a comment on how they should translate etc. and yeah!!! calling us illegal!! i mean we are but still!!

the last straw was seeing that post on tumblr and people in the comments going like fan translators shouldn’t or should do something, without getting the whole picture, without even considering how hard it is for fan translators being caught in this situation. 

whoever puts in the work gets to decide, and everyone else should leave them alone. 

be nice to the people who really cannot afford as they say so (or just don’t think about it), be nice to the translators feeding you content, and the people who free ride and shit on translators - honestly, i’d say ready the pitchforks.

edit: i forgot to mention this is my hot take and i’ve tried to like present all the arguments i’ve seen so far. i’m definitely not doing all of it justice and i don’t claim to speak on behalf of any of them except maybe one or two- and i’ve definitely left out stuff, but anyway, lmao we’re just tiny people doing what we love. i wish we could solve you know inequality or poverty or hunger or other pressing concerns. if i was that great i wouldn’t be stuck on tumblr or twitter or have to make posts like these like a loser.

thanks for coming to my ted talk.

[tenspontaneite]

Peace Is A Journey (Chapter 23/?)

In which a Healer visits her patient, three unfortunate children have a very cold day of travel, and Corvus learns something unexpected during his convalescence.

(Chapter length: 14k. Ao3 link)

Warnings: non-graphic descriptions of respiratory illness, an amputated limb, and non-consensual administration of medical treatment. Discussions of suicide and mercy-killing. Depictions of early stages of adapting to a new physical disability. Mentions of cold-related injury in background characters.

---

A runner came for them early. Early enough that Sarli and her apprentice had barely risen. Seeing as Sarli was not yet presentable, Cairon answered the door; she listened to what little she could glean of the conversation through the walls.

She heard “Yes,” and “yes,” again, and then “I understand. I will tell my master.”

Sarli finished dressing and went out to receive the news. “Well?” she questioned, once her apprentice was within her line of sight, and he straightened.

“The castle requests our attendance to the prisoner at our earliest opportunity,” he reported. “And there is someone to show our way to the new cell waiting outside.”

She considered this, and the urgency it implied. It was fortunate that they had no appointments booked until the afternoon, apparently. “Have they any news of his condition?”

“Sick, and weakening.” Cairon was succinct.

“Unsurprising.” Sarli went to her medicine cabinet and opened it, considering the arrayed items with a careful eye. The infection was surely still persisting, so, something for the reduction of fever. The lilium, of course, for pain. It would be well to bring an anti-inflammatory, too. Perhaps several. And, if the elf persisted with his reticence, then…the needle, too.

She plucked a few vials and bottles from her shelves, then went for the other assorted basics of bandages and disinfectants, and handed some of it off to Cairon to pack while she wrapped the rest. And then there was nothing but for the two of them to leave their House of Healing and follow after their waiting escort.

The elf’s new prison was apparently in a wing of the castle proper; or so she surmised when they did not divert for the dungeons once through the castle gates. She supposed the stipulation of moonlight cut off many of the more secure below-ground options; she had been very clear in specifying that some amount of moonlight must be upon the cell for as close to the entire night as possible. She wondered how they’d managed it.

Once they were through the inner doors, one of the Crownguard took up her escort. “Healer Sarli,” she greeted, with a nod of respect. “If you’ll follow me? Your patient is waiting.”

“Of course,” she said, and so they followed a little further. The castle was well-guarded today, she noted. Very well-guarded. And increasingly so, as they progressed into a wing that did not seem designed for prisoners at all. “Is this not a residential wing?” she asked at last, a little nonplussed by the finery of the halls she crossed. Cairon, too, seemed a little narrow-eyed about the affair, though he did not speak. His eyes marked each and every Crownguard as they walked.

“Diplomatic wing,” corrected their escort; despite her professionalism, there seemed a hint of unease to her countenance. “I’m afraid your stipulations for all-night moonlight access were difficult to manage, Healer. The diplomatic quarters are empty for the moment, and they have always had high security anyway, so it was decided that one of the rooms should be converted for use as a cell. The windows are…larger, here.”

Sarli raised an eyebrow. She supposed there had been no call for the crown-castle to host Moonshadow prisoners before, but even so… “Surely that must have been rather a lot of work.”

“Less than you’d think. It was mostly a matter of replacing the door and putting a cage on the window. And stripping the room, of course.” The Crownguard hesitated for a moment. “It did take the night, though. The prisoner was only moved here two hours ago.”

She paused. “So, then, he has had no moonlight this past night.” Although her tone was neutral, she thought it plain that she was not pleased. Beside her, Cairon looked grim.

“Regretfully, no.”

Sarli pursed her lips, and said nothing more until they reached the cell.

It was apparent when they reached it. The door was thick and iron-banded, adorned with bolts and keyholes and chains. It was a sharp contrast to the finery of the rest of this area of the castle. There were two Crownguard directly outside the door, and several more posted the length of the hallway. Evidently, they were taking no chances with the elf that had slain the King. The effort they’d gone to was testament indeed to how valuable they considered this prisoner.

There was also a man who was certainly not a guard of any sort, waiting for them. He looked up as they neared, eyes sparking with recognition. Clearly, he knew her by the robes. “Healer Sarli,” he greeted, and offered a short bow. “You have been anticipated.”

Sarli stopped across from him and eyed him appraisingly. No sign of military conditioning, but a certain self-assurance to his manner regardless. He seemed sharp-eyed and shrewd, and was dressed smartly in predominantly dark colours. She recognised his like. “There has been no tribunal yet,” she observed, a little startled to see an observer from the Crow Lord’s office here.

He nodded agreeably. “There hasn’t. I believe they aren’t in any particular hurry to hold one either, since it will be a moot point if the elf doesn’t survive the new moon.” The man’s eyes slid from her to Cairon, then back again. “I am Teyron. I will be present for any and all meetings between the prisoner and his guards and visitors of any kind.”

She inspected him. “Seeing if there is anything to glean from non-exceptional measures?” Her voice was dry.

Teyron smiled. “That, too.”

Sarli shook her head. It was like that, was it? Very well, then. She supposed it mattered little to her. Cairon seemed a little confused, though, so she turned to him and said “This is a member of the Crow Lord’s office. He is here to gather information on the prisoner via the passive methods of observation and insight. He is also here to ensure no one attempts covert communication with the prisoner during visits.”

She was watching him closely to be sure he understood, and was satisfied to watch him fall briefly still. “I see,” Cairon said, in the end, eyeing the Crow Lord’s man with some mixture of caution and curiosity. “Is that standard for prisoners of war?”

“It’s standard for prisoners with a covert operations background,” Teyron said affably, and inclined his head to the door. “Shall we?”

“Yes.” Sarli approached the door as one of the Crownguard reached over to slot a thick key into the mechanism. When it was opened, she allowed Teyron and the guards to precede her, then followed without further ado.

She lingered in the doorway for a moment, taking stock of the room. If this had been ambassadors’ housing, she could only imagine it had been for lesser members of a delegation. The place was well-lit, but it was not large. Even stripped of its finery and furniture, it was emphatically not large. A servant’s posting, perhaps? Even such a lowly use was beyond it now. It was utterly bare but for the trappings of a prison. No bed, not even a pallet; but there was a chamber-pot, she was glad to see. That was certainly more than the Lord Protector had provided.

As the Crownguard had said, there had been bars affixed around the broad window of the impromptu cell; the mortar barely looked dry where they penetrated the walls. She thought humourlessly on how much work it would be to rehabilitate this room when it had expunged its use as a prison.

And then there was the prisoner himself. Her patient. The guard had not thought to mention the chains affixed to the wall, but he was well-secured by them. There were cuffs at his neck, both shins, and the surviving arm, all held fast by long chains that coiled around him like darksteel snakes. They seemed to allow him a surprising range of motion, and Sarli guessed that he would easily be able to reposition himself in front of the window, should he desire. And yet, he had made no attempt to do so. Instead he was slumped backwards against the wall, peering narrowly at them; he seemed too weak to hold himself fully upright.

Sarli inspected him in a fast, evaluative moment, then stepped forwards. “You will remember me, I trust,” she said, and approached without ceremony to lay her pack down. Cairon trailed at her heels, silent and watchful. “I am here to continue your treatment.”

The elf did not reply. His eyes slid from her to Cairon, and then to Teyron. There they lingered for a while, dark and suspicious. She supposed he must be aware of what that man represented. At all times, Teyron would be watching for any opening or weakness implied in his reactions. The elf had already been silent and taciturn, and she doubted this would help matters.

So she sighed, and beckoned Cairon over. The Crownguard followed as well, which she noted with some asperity. The territoriality was reflexive; a Healer should not be managed in her treatment of a patient, nor crowded in such an unseemly manner. “Are you a Healer’s assistant as well as Crownguard?” She questioned the woman, annoyance lending sharpness to the words.

“Begging your pardon, Healer,” said the Crownguard. “I am protection. He has sufficient leeway in his chains to attack you.”

“And perhaps that would be a legitimate concern nearer the full moon,” Sarli said. “But for the moment, my patient is so weak he trembles at supporting himself upright, even leaning on a wall. If I cannot stop him, my apprentice will. Step back, if you please.”

Two faces went disgruntled at once: the Crownguard’s, and the elf’s. The latter, she supposed, was unhappy with her entirely accurate characterisation of his weakness.

“As you say, Healer,” The Crownguard conceded, finally, and did step back. Satisfied, Sarli went to her work.

Her first order of business was to give her patient a thorough looking-over. In plain daylight, his inhuman skin-tone was more evident, but the sickly pallor held to it nonetheless. His face was a little too pale, and the shadows beneath his eyes were dark. She felt for his pulse, and found it shallow and laboured. His temperature was somewhat higher than preferable, though not yet dangerously so. She inspected the stump of his arm next, removing the bandages and gauze, and noted that it had healed very little at all. It was not bleeding, but the edges of the wound had made no visible effort at sealing, even as careful as her stitching had been. Sarli saw that it was at least not visibly infected, even if the inflammation was severe. Finally she gestured for the stethoscope and listened to his lungs again. Their condition was more advanced now, though she could have surmised that merely by listening to him breathe.

For his part, the elf bore the examination stoically, flinching only the first time she touched him and then not at all thereafter. At last she sat back and observed him. “Will you take your medicines of your own accord?” she asked, and he blinked slowly at her. There was no hostility in his eyes, only a weary resolution. Outside of the dark, they lacked their uncanny phosphorescence, and seemed a great deal more human.

“I will not,” he rasped, as he had once before. The Crow Lord’s spy watched avidly from the corner.

She inclined her head. “I respect your pride, and your force of will,” she said. “But it is my duty to heal you.”

The elf’s eyes slid briefly to Teyron again. She expected him to remain silent after reminding himself that they were observed, but he surprised her. In that terrible rattling voice, he said “Your duty, to heal one who is already dead.” It was not quite a question, but had the taste of one regardless.

Sarli considered the words, feeling in them some edge of a culture unknown to her. There was significance here that she was not privy to. “I know nothing of the ways of your kind,” she said at last. “If you think you are already dead, then perhaps you are. I cannot heal a corpse. But I am human. If you are not beyond my aid, then the alleviation of your suffering does remain my duty. I will see it done.”

He exhaled, and the sigh would have been silent if not for the crackle of his lungs. He descended into a brief, painful series of wet coughs, then he met her eyes. They were oddly steady. Again, that rasping voice: “I have heard of how human healers alleviate suffering.”

In the corner of her eye, Sarli saw Teyron shift, less with interest than with wariness. She could read the thoughts, there. The elf’s words were not quite an overt invitation of a more permanent mercy, but they skittered close enough that an information specialist might fear what she would do.

And well he should. It would be easy, after all. No one could stop her from mixing the lilium a little too potently. It would spare him his pain. Spare him the suffering of the next few days. Spare him the inevitable torture that would come, should he survive.

Sarli regarded the elf, expressionless. Beside her, Cairon was very still. “You speak of the mercy-killing that a Healer may practice as if you would invite it,” she said, at last, and he made no objection to the words. Just watched her. “You refuse to eat or drink on your own, and accept no medical aid that is not forced upon you. In this regard, you behave as one seeking to die.” Sarli watched him, and nodded to herself. “…But I think that there are limits upon that intention, for you. If you truly wished to end yourself, none could stop you. Yet you have not.” Slow and deliberate, she set the stethoscope fully aside, and reached for her medicines. “If you will not do it yourself, do not ask it of me. I will not be the instrument of your destruction.”

The elf looked away, deliberately taciturn. There was a flicker of frustration in his expression, but nothing else. She wondered if he had been wishing that someone would take the decision from him and enact his death themselves. She wondered if his strange culture, such that it was, forbade direct suicide. Either way, he had not died, and he was not yet upon the nadir of suffering and despair that would see her change that.

Not yet. But she had given the quiet death before, and might well give it again, should there be a need.

Silent, she gestured to Cairon, and received the needle and the lilium from his hands.

“Know this, my patient,” Sarli said finally, and watched the elf’s eyes turn guardedly her way. “Once Mercy becomes a knife, there can be no more Mercy thereafter. But where life persists, there is Hope of change.” The words sat holy upon her tongue, and she lingered for a moment beneath the weight of them. She exhaled, silent, and finished “This is a lesson that the centuries have taught us very well, and that you would do well to learn.” Then she kept at her work, eyes steady on her tools. She did not look for her patient’s reaction.

When she lifted her eyes to regard him, he was very carefully expressionless. If her words had provoked any response in him, he was allowing none of it to his face. Stoicism stared back at her. There was a light tremor in his living arm; she eyed it, finished her assembly of the needle and reservoir, and reached out to prick the skin. He barely twitched as the lilium joined to his blood, soon to bring him the relief from pain that she had promised; but only that. No more. Her Mercy was not yet a knife.

The elf endured the treatments in silence. She had come prepared for the notion that he might not accept medical aid, but even so, the medicines that could be administered to the blood were not many. The lilium, yes. The anti-inflammatory as well. But she had no recourse to treat his fever if he would not drink. She sighed, and set it aside, well within his reach. “If you change your mind about accepting medical treatment, this here is for your fever,” she said, and he glanced at it. “It will aid your body in fighting the infection. Consider it.”

He blinked, slowly, then looked deliberately away. Apparently he was done with speaking for the day.

She accepted it, and then finally rose. Her old bones ached from kneeling for so long, but she refused to show the duress; she handed the bags to Cairon and then turned to leave. “I will return tomorrow, in the morning,” she stated, to the Crownguard and the observer both. “If there is any change in his condition before then, send for me.”

They murmured their assent and bowed lightly as she left; she waved off her escort and left with Cairon without ceremony. He was very quiet, saying nothing, and watching the guards they passed on their way through the castle. Though his expression was well-schooled, she knew him well enough to see his unease.

Once they were upon the streets, surrounded by the hubbub and bustle of the castle-city, he finally ventured to speak. “Did you mean what you said back there, master?”

She glanced at him, and found him looking troubled. “I rarely say anything I do not mean, Cairon,” she answered, just a little wry. “But perhaps you should be more specific.”

He looked away, not meeting her eyes. “’Where life persists, there is hope of change’,” he quoted.

Sarli considered it. “Yes. I spoke it truly.”

“You believe that.” He was not one to doubt her word, but he seemed searching now. Uneasy in his skin, as though the answer mattered to him. “Even for…him.”

‘Even for the assassin that slew the king’, went unspoken. Or perhaps, ‘even for an elf’.

For a moment her heart burned with familiar anger, familiar grief. But those were the trappings of Sarli-the-person; thus Sarli-the-Healer breathed out and cast them aside. “Even for him, Cairon, yes.” she said. “Hope is a beacon to every soul.”

The comment occasioned some glances from the people around her; and well it should. It was not lightly that anyone devout spoke ‘hope’ aloud, and a Healer was always devout. “I wouldn’t think someone like him has much in the way of that,” Cairon said, after a moment, and though it wouldn’t be clear to a stranger whether he’d meant hope or soul…

She stilled a little, and cast him a warning glance. She looked deliberately around at those around them. He took the admonishment and fell silent until they were alone again, walking to the mouth of the Valley, and near to home. Then she spoke, before he could, as if no time had passed at all since his badly-placed comment. “His prospects are ill, yes,” said Sarli, “but not hopeless. Never hopeless. You should know better than that. Certainly you should know better than to express such a sentiment in public.” It was a rebuke and a warning both. He should know better. Few indeed were the people who would not.

He flinched as though struck, and did not try to defend his words. Good; if the wrong ears had marked her apprentice saying such a thing, it could cast a shame on her, to have taught him so poorly. And that was the best of the potential negative consequences.

“Perhaps you need a reminder,” Sarli allowed, opening their door and easing herself through. Cairon glanced warily at her, setting out the bags, and she went directly to the bookcase. She pulled out a leather-bound tome, bloody red, a lotus engraved on the cover in metallic silver. It was the work of moments to find the correct passage, and she presented the book to her apprentice without preamble. He took it in his hands and stared at it as though it were a live snake, for all that he had certainly heard and read its scriptures before. She commanded, “Read.”

“…The tools need cleaning, master,” he offered, hesitating. “The medicines need putting away.”

“I will do it,” Sarli said at once, and then again: “Read.”

Again, he hesitated. And then his eyes fell upon the page, and its old sacred tale. He winced at it, very slightly, then finally exhaled. Sarli knew then that he would do as she had commanded, and turned away to begin attending to the tools of her trade; behind her, out of sight, words as familiar to her as her own breath filtered into the air upon her apprentice’s voice.

“’When the Last Light came to Her, She was lingering silent among the death-shrouds, and Her hands were wet with the blood of mercy’…”

Learn, she bade him, in the privacy of her own mind, and finally felt her heart settle from the clamour his public heresy had set it to. It could have been worse. He hadn’t spoken loudly, and his phrasing had been ambiguous; the onlookers might well think he was calling the person-of-discussion soulless, rather than hopeless. Still unsettling for someone not aware of the situation, but not dangerous.

And dangerous it would be, should anyone find him – a Healer’s apprentice – to have verbally denied that the Last Light existed for everyone. Even the lords, even the royalty, secular as they were, would never say such a thing where someone might hear.

Her apprentice thought himself very subtle, and often he was. But not always. And certainly not around her.

Be more careful, Cairon, she thought to him, though she did not speak. I will not always be here to protect you.

“’…this is a dark time, and its shadows may stretch for many years. / But I have something to show you, and I wish for that you will take heed. / So come with me, and I will show you Hope / In the dark of a thousand shadows…’”

 ---

She was warm; she was comfortable; she didn’t hurt. Rayla slept, and slept very well.

The lilium kept her under for the first span of the night, blotting out the shifts and sounds that would ordinarily wake her. It ebbed after a while though, and a thin edge of pain made her blink groggily awake. The tent was not dark; Bait glowed in his sleep, and the egg glowed too. That was normal. Everything was fine. She went back to sleep.

A while later she stirred again, feeling the warmth of the tent ebbing as the night’s cold encroached. But it wasn’t so bad. She went back to sleep.

Later, again, she woke with the disorienting sensation of sudden and unexpected contact. She made a surprised noise and cracked her eyes open to look. Callum had burrowed himself into her side, all curled-up, like he was cold. The lilium must have still been in effect, because all she did was sleepily think oh, that’s nice, take a drowsy moment to appreciate his warmth, and go back to sleep again.

The final time she woke that night was to a dragging awareness, somewhere in the back of her sleeping mind, that something was amiss with someone’s breathing. Not right. Not normal, for the middle of the night. She dragged herself to consciousness, eyes opening. She checked Callum first, who was still plastered against her side, deeply asleep. This time she had enough presence of mind to feel flustered about it. There was nothing wrong with him, though, so she turned her head to inspect the rest of the tent’s occupants…

…and found Ezran sat upright, plainly awake, running a hand calmly and absent-mindedly over the shell of the dragon egg. He didn’t look like he’d only recently awoken, either. He had the look of someone who’d been sitting up for a good while, quiet and weary in the night’s stillness.

After a moment, he seemed to notice that she was watching, and his eyes slid her way. He looked so tired. “…Hi, Rayla,” he said, voice hushed and quiet, as if to avoid waking anyone else up.

She blinked, then squinted, half sitting up. “What’re’y’doing awake?” she questioned, words a little slurred and incoherent from sleep. “It’s only…” she groped at her Moon-sense, which was growing rather weaker as it waned. “…three. Three’n the morning.”

“Huh. Is it.” He seemed vaguely interested, as if he’d had no idea what time it was before she told him. And…she supposed he hadn’t. What must it be like, being human, not knowing at all times what the time was? She made an impatient noise at him, and then he seemed to realise she’d asked a question. “Oh! Um.” He glanced down at the egg in his lap, hesitant. “Zym’s awake.”

Rayla frowned. She’d been worried, in a half-asleep sort of way, that he’d maybe been kept up by nightmares, or grief, or both. But… “And that woke you up?” she surmised, and he nodded tiredly.

“Yeah.” He sighed. “Can’t get back to sleep, either. It’s…hard to be asleep, when someone’s in your head being all…awake.”

She considered that, thoughts slow and groggy. “You tried putting him down?” she asked, eventually.

“Yeah,” he said again, morosely this time. “It helped a little, but not much. He’s just…awake.” He patted wearily at the eggshell. “He used to be mostly-asleep all the time, before the storm. Now it’s more like he’s…I don’t know, a regular baby or something. Asleep a lot. But not all the time.”

She’d heard elf parents complaining about their babies keeping them up all night; she thought of that with a vague sleepy humour, finding the circumstance of the baby Dragon King keeping the child King of Katolis awake to be weirdly amusing. Unfortunate, though. “That sucks,” she said, eventually, still struggling to manage anything more coherent. She did not feel properly awake.

“Mm.” He shrugged tiredly. “Not much I can do about it, though.” His eyes slid back her way, and lingered. “Did I wake you up? I was trying to be quiet…”

“Kinda,” she supplied after a moment. “I could tell someone wasn’t asleep. Wanted to check everything was alright.”

“Oh. Sorry.” Ez watched her, eyes just a little too luminescent in the dark for it to be normal. It could have just been reflection from the egg…but it wasn’t. “You should try to go back to sleep, then,” he said eventually. “Just because I can’t get back to sleep doesn’t mean you need to be awake.”

Rayla accepted the sense of that reluctantly, aware that she was tired and really did want to sleep, and that there probably wasn’t anything she could do to help Ezran by being awake. But, even so, it felt a little wrong. “I can sit up with you, if it’d help,” she offered.

He shook his head. “Nah. Thanks, but…it wouldn’t really help anything. And you need your sleep.”

“So do you.”

“Yeah, but you don’t have a baby dragon in your head being unhappy about how squashed he feels,” Ezran pointed out.

She sighed. “Fair enough.”

Callum chose that moment to make a tiny murmuring sound and curl a little further into her side, all balled-up, one hand settling with its fingers curled over her waist. She stiffened, abruptly reminded that he was there, being cuddly, visibly so, and Ezran was awake to see it-

Even tired as he was, Ezran very plainly did see; his eyes flickered to his brother, and a trace of a smile lifted his lips. “At least one of us is getting a good night’s sleep,” he commented, with a lightness to the words, like the sight had pleased him somehow. “He looks pretty comfy there, huh.”

Her shoulders hunched defensively. She half wanted to turn away, to shield Callum from view, but it was a little late for that. Instead she held herself stiffly motionless, cheeks prickling with heat, and said “He’s just – cold. He’s cold and I’m the biggest warm thing around. That’s all it is.”

Ezran barely twitched before shaking his head. “Nah. Callum’s just like that, when he sleeps. He’s either moving about and kicking the covers off or he’s hugging. He doesn’t really have any in-between. You should see him at home – he usually just ends up hugging a big pillow or something…” He tilted his head, looking at them. “But, yeah, maybe he’s cold too. He does look kind of…balled up.”

It was on the tip of her tongue to ask if he was cold, but then she noticed he’d picked his cloak off the floor and slung it around himself. He didn’t look too chilly. “Right.” She muttered, self-conscious, and tensed a little further when Ezran cast his brother a thoughtful look and reached over.

He touched his fingers to Callum’s neck and smiled. “He’s so sleepy,” he said, affectionately, and lingered there for a few moments longer. “And, yeah, he’s a little cold.”

“I said so,” Rayla said, vaguely soothed by this apparent corroboration, but-

“And he’s warm and comfy where he is, and it’s nice.” Ez finished, drawing his hand back, settling with the egg again. “Or that’s about what I can get from him when he’s asleep, anyway.”

She didn’t say anything, but could feel the flush rising in her ears. She was entirely, acutely aware of the weight of Callum against her side…and the way that he, too, felt pleasantly warm. In the end she made a sort of vague, disgruntled noise, too embarrassed to offer something more coherent.

Ezran looked at her, then. He seemed almost curious. “Do you not mind, though?” he asked, inquisitive. “I remember you were annoyed about him moving around in his sleep, around when we first started travelling. And now he’s cuddling you.”

Rayla looked away, face hot. “…If you try to push him off, he just comes back,” she muttered in the end, half-exasperated and half-flustered. “He doesn’t even wake up. Just…” She nodded towards him without actually looking, because she wasn’t sure she could particularly cope with the sight of Callum’s sleepy face and messy hair right now. “Easier to get a full night’s sleep if I just leave him.”

She didn’t realise her misstep until a few moments later, when she became aware of Ezran’s silence. She looked up at him, and found his watchful gaze on her. “So it hasn’t just been tonight, huh?” he asked, plainly picking up on what she’d given away. She grumbled again, but didn’t answer, averting her eyes. More thoughtfully, as if to himself, Ez said “And you don’t mind.”

“Who says?” she retorted, disagreeably. She’d certainly minded plenty near the start, after all.

But, again, Ezran was thoughtfully quiet, for long enough that she eventually glanced back at him. In the shadows, the faint luminescence of his eyes was striking; something she’d expect more of her own kind than his. With those eyes on her, he said again “You don’t mind.” It wasn’t at all a question, and strangely, her breath caught. She found she couldn’t answer.

Ezran looked at her with such a solemn weight of knowing that she felt stripped bare, felt exposed, as if she faced a priest of the Moon's Shadow instead of a ten year old boy. A priest of the Shadow, with the eyes to see the secrets hidden beneath her skin. She stilled, oddly shaken, until the moment passed and Ezran nodded, eyes falling on Callum again.

“Good,” he said, softly. “That’s…good. Callum needs more people who’ll care about him.” Before she could flush at that, he smiled. “And he always has been pretty huggy.”

Uncomfortable, Rayla glanced down at Callum’s sleeping face. Only half of it was visible at the moment, with how he’d smooshed it into her side. “I noticed,” she said, a touch dryly. Then she hesitated. “Ezran…” He looked at her inquisitively, and suddenly it was hard to force the words out. “You…are you going to tell…” she trailed off, not even entirely certain what she was asking.

He fixed her with that oddly penetrating look again, as if he knew what she was trying to say better than she did. As if he understood, even without having touched her at all. “Am I going to tell him he gets cuddly with you when he’s asleep?” he offered, now with a little spark of mirth in his eyes. She stared narrowly at him, suddenly absolutely certain that he was enjoying this. “Or that you’re okay with it?”

There was something about the way he said that last part. Teasing, like he meant something else. Something more horrifically embarrassing, like ‘that you’ve got a huge crush on him’, or possibly another equally terrible equivalent. Was she imagining it? Did he actually guess that she – or was she just overthinking…?

She looked at him again. At the tiny smile, the knowing look, the glimmer of mischief.

Yeah, he knew. Or at the very least, he knew more than she wanted him to.

Her face burned, and her shoulders hunched as she looked away. She’d hoped to keep this hidden from him, even despite his empathic abilities and uncomfortably astute people-reading skills. She’d been an idiot. It would never have worked for long.

“Any of that,” she agreed, in the end, not meeting his eyes. She was so hyper-aware of Callum’s presence now that it almost itched, that she wanted to push him away. But she didn’t want to risk him waking into this conversation, of all things. As it was, she was thanking the stars for how much of a sound sleeper he was.

Ezran smiled, tilted his head consideringly at his brother, and hummed. “I guess I won’t tell,” he decided, in the end. “Callum can be kind of slow about this kind of thing, so it’ll probably work out better if I don’t say anything. At least for a while.”

What was that supposed to mean? Slow about what? What would work out better?

Still. She could at least appreciate the decision he’d apparently made. Rayla glanced at him warily, but though he was clearly having a good time with the topic, she didn’t see any duplicity in him. Her shoulders eased a little, and she sighed. “Thanks,” she said, begrudgingly.

“Plus, it’ll be way funnier to watch you guys if I don’t tell,” Ezran added helpfully. Rayla glared at him. “What? It’s true. Last night was already great, with how you laid all over him like that, his face was hilarious-“ at her tiny strangled noise, he cut off, looking at her inquisitively. “What? Do you not remember?”

She hadn’t, until he’d mentioned it. But now…the memories were hazy, and dreamlike in that characteristic lilium-drugged way, but they were there. “I do now,” she muttered, tense with mortification, suddenly awash with the recollection of how nice it had been. Drugged-Rayla had found such an entirely uncomplicated contentment in the whole thing that it warmed her even now. “Ugh.” Then, since he already knew, and she might as well: “This is exactly why I was worried about taking the lilium.”

Ezran stared at her. “It is? I thought it was because you didn’t want to act weir-“ He stopped. “Ohh. I get it. You don’t want to act all crushy around Callum.”

Her shoulders went up, and she reflexively looked down at the human prince pressed into her side to make sure he was still soundly asleep. Thankfully, nothing had changed on that front. Still- “Shh!” She hissed at him, prickling with self-consciousness.

Undaunted, he said “You were fine, you know. Just kind of cuddly. Cuddly’s fine.” He indicated his brother’s sleeping form, as if to present it as evidence. Rayla followed his gaze and pinked. “He’s, you know, a cuddly person. So he was surprised, but…” Ezran shrugged.

She intensely wanted to escape this conversation. But it wasn’t like she could just…leave. Opening the tent would waste all the heat and leave them all properly cold for the rest of the night. So she did the only thing she could: “Enough talking,” she said, firmly, ignoring the flush in her cheeks. “You should try to go back to sleep now.” Seeing him open his mouth to object, she added sharply “Try. Even if you can’t. Laying down with your eyes closed is still better rest than being up and awake all night.”

“Aw, fine,” Ez accepted, and eyed her. “You’d better try to go to sleep too, though.”

She sighed. “I will, Ezran.”

He extended a hand over his brother’s side, littlest finger befuddlingly extended. She stared at it warily, uncertain what he meant by it, and after a moment he prompted “Pinky promise?”

“What in Xadia’s name is a pinky promise?”

“A promise you make by linking your pinky fingers and shaking them,” he explained. “Means you can’t break it. So?” He waggled the finger.

She’d always thought they were called ‘pinkos’. “I don’t have pinky fingers, Ez.”

Undeterred, he said “That’s okay. You can just use your last finger. It’ll count.” So, sighing, she relented and extended her left hand to link fingers with him. He shook it twice, very solemnly, and then the promise was – supposedly – sealed. He looked very satisfied with himself. “There,” he said, and leaned back. Then, true to his word, he gathered up the egg again, repositioned the grumpily half-asleep Bait, and planted himself down on the ground, eyes determinedly closed.

It looked kind of comical, actually. His face was a little screwed up, like he was trying to stubborn himself into unconsciousness.

Glad for the reprieve from the uncomfortable conversation, and mindful of the weird human finger-vowing custom, Rayla settled back down herself. Callum hadn’t shifted much when she sat up before, and didn’t shift much now. He just pressed his face into her shoulder instead of her arm. She glanced at him one last time, for a very long moment, and then closed her eyes. Sleep followed soon after.

 ---

 Rayla woke again a few hours later. It was a while past dawn, and though the Moon would still linger above the horizon for a few hours yet, its recession pulled at her. Habit brought her awake with unerring ease at that sensation, so she blinked her eyes open and rose. Callum mumbled incoherently as she displaced him; she glanced at him quickly, but was relieved to see he was still asleep.

She sighed, quashing the increasingly-familiar flutter in her chest, and carefully extracted herself, reaching out to pull his fingers out of the wool of her jumper. That complete, she shuffled over to the tent doors, noting that Ezran had evidently managed to get back to sleep at some point…though, he was stirring now. That was unusual. Usually he slept as deeply as his brother, and didn’t budge even when she moved about. He sat up and yawned as she started undoing the door toggles, blinking sleepily at her. “Morning, Rayla,��� he greeted, after a moment, voice rough.

One look at him and she recalled the middle-of-the-night conversation they’d had, and the mortifying details therein. She offered him a wary half-smile, folding the tent-door back. Instantly, it was colder; the air between the two tent layers made goosebumps lift on her skin, even with most of it swaddled in wool. She shivered, but reached outwards for the next door anyway. “Morning,” she echoed, after a moment, fingers working carefully at the toggles. Her left hand prickled with a strange numbness as it moved, clumsy as if cold, even though it was just as warm as the other one.

The outer door opened, and the air from outside was so frigid it felt like a slap in the face. She grimaced, inhaling sharply, and that inhale half-burned her lungs with the biting chill. “Ugh,” she said, and a few seconds later, Ezran made a similar noise as the air hit him.

“Oh, wow,” he said, sounding a little impressed. “I guess the tent really does make a difference.”

“That’s kind of the point, yeah,” she agreed, then forced herself outside.

It was a very bright morning, even now. The sun had just about poked past one of the mountains, and the sky was a pale, clear colour almost devoid of clouds. What little cloud-wisps there were moved noticeably; it was still relatively windy. She squinted against the brightness, then ventured out. Frost crunched beneath the boots she’d apparently slept in.

There hadn’t been any more snow in the night, so the area she’d cleared hadn’t particularly filled in, but it was white anyway. She frowned at her footprints, stamping a few times experimentally, and confirmed that it really was just frost. Frost, at least a couple centimetres thick. She turned around and found it had settled on the exterior of the tent as well, turning the whole thing pale and icy-looking. “Ugh,” she said again, disgruntled, knowing that they’d need to clear that off before they could pack it.

She’d headed over to the burned-out campfire by the time Ez followed her out, having pulled his boots and his cloak on, shivering. “What’re you doing?” he asked her, as she piled in their remaining firewood and went for the flint. He had Bait in his arms, the toad looking half-asleep and as grumpy as ever.

“It’s a cold morning,” she said. “Better have a hot drink or something before we go. It’ll do us good. Plus, I think our meat is all frozen, so we’ll need to heat up breakfast, too.”

“Oh, right.” He paused for a moment to think. “Can I help?”

“You can take the scarves and gloves and stuff off the snow-people,” she offered, dryly, and nodded to the line of icy sentinels at the edge of camp. “Since you and Callum apparently forgot to do that last night. They’ll need warming, too.”

Ez winced. “We did forget.” He sighed, put Bait down by the fire, then trotted off to obey. He returned a short while later with some particularly frosty winterwear, which she put close-ish to the burgeoning fire. Hopefully not close enough to catch alight. “Are we going to wake up Callum soon?”

She glanced consideringly back at the tent, which she’d left entirely open. “Cold will probably wake him up on its own soon enough,” she estimated. “But sure, why not.” So she stood and went, Ezran apparently deciding to follow. She found Callum curled up and shivering on top of her cloak, chasing the last vestiges of warmth, shifting like he was on the verge of awakening. She rolled her eyes, then reached through the tent-layers to poke him in the thick wool socks over his feet.

He giggled, apparently ticklish, and squirmed when she poked him again, and then finally cracked his eyes open. He peered at Rayla, then at Ez, as if not awake enough to comprehend what he was looking at. “Cold?” he offered, in a sort of incoherent questioning complaint, and then squinted at the brightness of the light from behind them. “Mm…too bright. Shut the curtains?”

Ezran snickered. Rayla lifted an eyebrow. “No,” she answered, helpfully, and watched him blink a few times more. He frowned.

“Tent,” he realised, seconds later. “Camping. Mountains. Right.” Finally he pushed himself up, then frowned. “Why am I on your cloak?”

Beside her, Ezran’s face was suddenly beset by an enormous grin. Rayla pointed her finger at him sternly and said “No.” Turning back to Callum, she added “…Probably it was warm, or something. Give it here, though, I’m getting chilly.” She ignored Ezran’s expression and prodded Callum until he was up and pulling his boots on, then reclaimed her cloak. He seemed to wake up a little when she started struggling to get it around her shoulders alone; for all that her hand didn’t hurt at all anymore, the motions for pulling clothing on still tugged unpleasantly at the wounds on her arm and shoulder, and she was all-too-aware that the lilium had worn off.

Rayla sighed, and lingered in place while Callum sat up to help her with the cloak. She was getting used to that, but it still rankled a little. She carefully didn’t look at his face, too aware of Ezran watching them.

“Thanks,” she said, when he was done, then receded from the tent doorway. “Now get up. We’ve got a long way to go today.”

“Don’t we have a long way to go every day?” he asked, pulling his boots on, and she snorted.

“Generally, yes. But considering how many days we’ve been sat around lately, we’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”

He seemed a little surprised to see the fire re-lit when she led him out, but settled under the explanations of breakfast and a warm drink easily enough. “It’s a good idea,” he agreed, a little ruefully, settling to hold one of his icy gloves over the fire, just far enough not to burn. “I feel all numb and cold and stiff, kinda. Would be nice to warm up a bit before having to move.”

“We’ll all feel fine when we’re walking.” Rayla shrugged, and checked on the water. “But, yeah.”

A while later, when they’d all had some pine tea and they’d boiled some meat into a bland but serviceable semblance of breakfast, he glanced at the stiff way she was holding her arm and inquired about her pain levels.

She blinked at him owlishly. “Hurts, but not any worse than usual?” she offered, shrugging. Almost on reflex, she flexed her bad hand, as though to chase some of the familiar stiff ache from it, but there was just…nothing. No pain at all in the hand itself. In the wrist, sure, but the hand?

It didn’t feel normal. But it didn’t hurt, either. She wasn’t sure what to think about that.

He noticed the motion, of course. “Is your hand bothering you?”

She sighed, and looked away. “No.” Her voice was a little short. It didn’t hurt. It was bothering her, though, just…in a way she wasn’t sure she was ready to think about yet, let alone talk about.

He accepted that easily enough, even though he plainly wanted to press further; he was so annoyingly considerate. “Alright. Well, I was just wondering…” he glanced at her arm, hesitated, then went on. “…if it’s been long enough that it’s safe for you to take willow bark again. So you can take something for the pain while we’re travelling.”

Rayla blinked, nonplussed.

“You didn’t think of that, huh?” Ezran spoke, observing her reaction, and she frowned.

“I didn’t,” she said, after a moment, and considered her injuries, invisible past the bandages and several layers of clothes. “It’s…hm.” Eyes narrowing a little, she thought about it. It wasn’t like there wasn’t still stuff going on under the surface. Willow bark probably would slow or disrupt that. But, at this point, the seal on the wounds was solid enough that it wouldn’t necessarily be dangerous.

“Rayla?” Callum prompted, when she’d been quiet a long time.

“I think it’ll make me heal slower,” she concluded, after a while. “…But, now I think about it, I’ll barely be healing at the moment anyway, so…I might as well?” She shrugged, and felt a little lighter; it was undeniably cheering to think of maybe having some painkillers to tide her through what would be a pretty physically-demanding day.

She’d already got caught up in the relief of that idea, so was a little taken-aback when Ezran squinted at her and said “Why not?” She frowned at him, confused, and he elaborated. “Why aren’t you healing at the moment?”

“Oh.” Somehow, even after spending so long with them, confirming every day that they were human…she’d forgotten they wouldn’t know. So, with a false nonchalance, she nodded towards the sky, where the pale crescent of the sinking Moon still remained, washed out in the bright blue of daylight. “It’s New Moon soon,” she explained, averting her eyes from theirs. “It’s just…like that. For Moonshadow elves.” She scowled a little. “Especially without moondust.”

“Oh, right.” Callum nodded, as if remembering. “You said you’d be weaker at new moon. I didn’t know it affected stuff like your healing too, though.” He hesitated, looking at her. “How far away is it?”

Rayla grimaced. “Three days, ish. Including today.” She hadn’t in her entire life seen an unmedicated elf at New Moon. The ones who were crazy enough to go without moondust hid themselves away for the duration. She didn’t know what it would be like, but…

“And it’s already making you heal really slow?” Ez seemed morbidly interested. “Even days away?”

She was quiet for a while, uncertain if she wanted to admit it. “My healing, and my senses, and my strength.” Her voice was curt. “I’m weaker already. It’s not so bad yet, but in a day or so…” She shrugged. “No avoiding it, I suppose, but I’m not looking forward to it.” It was nagging at her, even, in a strange insistent way that she wasn’t used to. There was an animal awareness in the back of her mind, intent on the waning Moon, itching and whispering at her as if to say that she wasn’t safe, she wasn’t secure, she needed to find somewhere to hide before it was too late…

Callum and Ezran shared a glance. “Can you tell us what to expect?” Callum asked, trying for pragmatism, though she could tell he was worried.

She snorted. “No, not really. People tell a lot of stories about natural New Moon, so it’s hard to know what’s true.” She squinted at the sky. “I’ll have a better idea the day before, though. By then I should be able to tell how hard it’ll hit me.”

He hesitated. “Is it…” he seemed to struggle for the words, and she looked at him until he managed it. “Will it be dangerous? For you?”

Her first instinct was to snort dismissively at the notion, but then she paused. “…No, probably not,” she estimated, after a little more thought. “If I was sick, maybe, it could be a problem. Or if I was more badly injured.” She glanced at her arm consideringly. “We get sick easily, at New Moon. If that’s worse off of moondust…” A pause for thought. “I suppose the worst case scenario is my arm getting infected.”

Callum looked dismayed. “Rayla, that is dangerous. Infections are bad.”

She glanced at him. “Yeah, they can be,” she acknowledged. “But worst comes to worst, we’d just have to hold out for…Half Moon, I suppose, or anything past it. That’s one bonus of not being on moondust.” She grimaced at the thought. “Moonshadow elves off moondust are pretty impossible to kill with infection, near Full Moon. So, there’s that.”

She didn’t mention, because she doubted it’d help anything, that people tended to tell tall stories about the extremity of weakness that the New Moon brought. Stories that indicated that an unhealthy elf could sicken and die so quickly that they were gone before the Moon could turn back. But she wasn’t that unhealthy. She had injuries, maybe, but she didn’t have anything that could suddenly get worse and really mess her up. She should be fine.

Her hand, though. She recalled the weird experience she’d had the first time the binding had loosened, and twitched. If the human healer was to be believed about the dangers, that could have been the sort of thing that’d go wrong at New Moon. But, thankfully, she was plenty past that now.

The words had apparently reassured Callum, at least. “Well, thank Mercy for that,” he sighed, then looked at her curiously. “So, if you have a sick Moonshadow elf, do you take them off moondust to help them recover, or…?”

Rayla rolled her eyes at him. Trust Callum to get curious about the details of it. “Not if it’s close to New Moon,” she said. “Then they’ll just get worse. Or – actually, they get better for a day or two, then they get worse fast.” It was something she’d been taught about, with regards to first aid in the field. If someone was sick or severely injured near Full Moon, you stopped their moondust, and the influx of magic would sort them out once the drug left their system. But if the Moon was waning, it wasn’t worth the risk.

“But the full moon makes you recover,” he said, thoughtfully. “Do you heal faster, too?”

She glanced at her arm, momentarily pensive. She wondered what it would look like, when the Full Moon had passed. “Yeah.” Shaking her head as though to dispel the thought, she shoved a jar of icy cooked meat into Callum’s hands, and said “Heat that up, would you? I’ve got some packing to do.” She took that opening to escape the conversation, too-aware of the throb of her wounds and the strangeness of her hand.

She left the boys by the fire as she went around the snow-banks, pulling the wrapped slabs of frozen meat she’d shoved in there for cold-storage yesterday. The venture had been successful enough that divorcing the supplies from the surrounding ice was a little challenging; the snow had turned icy, and clung to the packages in sharp-edged clusters. Finally she brought it all back to the cleared space and got to work.

It was an annoyingly long time until they were ready to leave. Heating up breakfast took time, getting frost and ice off of their stuff took time, getting the contents of their waterskins to melt into something drinkable took time, and getting their gloves into a fit state to be worn took time as well. Rayla was fully impatient when at last they could put the pot away, and even then…

Reflexively, she tried to pick it up one-handed. Left-handed. It felt heavy; her hand shook, and her wrist ached, and the pot slipped from her fingers. A pot, and it was too heavy to hold. Her jaw clenched, and she reached with the other hand instead. She lifted. That, at least, was properly effortless.

Is it always going to be like this? she wondered, dismayed, keenly aware of the unhealthy fatigue in her wrist. Then, ruthlessly, she shoved the thought away. She tucked the hand carefully against her side, and went back to the increasingly-familiar awkwardness of trying to conduct camp chores with only her right hand available.

The dull ache of her damaged wrist harried her until, eventually, she took some willow bark between her teeth and chewed for long enough that all her pains went a little further away. It wasn’t as effective as the lilium, but her mind was clear, and it was a relief not to have to travel with her wounds searing at her so terribly.

“Right,” she said, when everything was finally in order. “Let’s get moving.” She pulled on her gloves at last; the fabric itched and tingled strangely on the skin of her left hand.

The boys checked their snowshoes, hefted the straps of their bags, then tromped over to her where she waited at the edge of their former camp. She settled her own straps over her uninjured shoulder, glanced around to make certain they’d not forgotten anything, then started walking.

“Goodbye, snow-people,” Callum said to their icy constructs, both boys waving the things farewell as they left. Despite herself, Rayla shook her head at them, and smiled.

 ---

 The snow was icier today, and a little easier to walk on with the snowshoes. That was a mercy, considering literally everything else was harder.

Just a few days ago, the initial burst of mountain-hiking had set Callum’s legs to aching more fiercely than he’d ever experienced in his life. He’d acquired soreness from combat training plenty of times over the last few years, but that didn’t hold a candle to the stiffness of legs unused to walking uphill for days on end. Then the thundersnow had happened, and he’d had a chance to recover. There’d been some walking yesterday, but not enough to reduce him to the same state as before.

He suspected that would change today.

The going was almost entirely upwards, and it was steep. Even with the snowshoes, it was hard to find his footing, and in places he pretty much had to climb, bracing his hands against rock directly in front of him to pull himself up. Ez, being considerably shorter, needed to be helped up those parts, Bait riding in his sweater to free up his hands.

It made him miss the first few days of their journey, a little; back when the ground had been level enough he’d been able to draw as he walked. Now he didn’t dare look at anywhere except where he was putting his feet.

…Most of the time, anyway.

He couldn’t really help staring around with wide-eyed wonder, sometimes. Every time they crested a slope or finished climbing the steeper sections, he could look ahead or behind and see the mountain range sprawling out around them. The angle wasn’t quite right for him to see all of the way they’d come, but some of the lowlands were visible anyway. They looked impossibly green and verdant from where he was, up on the mountain with its snow and ice.

It was weird to think that, mere days ago, he’d been somewhere warm enough to not feel the chill biting at his fingers. There wasn’t even much sunlight to help warm him; the clear skies of the early morning had given way to a patchy, sullen layer of clouds. It made for some pretty scenery, what with the rays of light casting between them over the landscape, but it didn’t soften the chill at all.

The cold wasn’t all bad, though. It created some really beautiful things. Callum found himself admiring the branching twigs of a leafless shrub, eyes following the strange frigid crust they’d accumulated. Ice clung to the undersides, an inch long, in an odd rippling pattern that made his hands itch for charcoal. Ice was on everything today, but this looked different. Where most every other grass and shrub around them was white and lumpy with thick frost, this looked clear and almost glassy. He tilted his head to see the watery light glimmer through, thinking of how he’d shade it.

It was then that Rayla nudged him, breaking him from his reverie. “Something interesting?” she asked, eyebrow raised. He offered an embarrassed laugh.

“Er,” he said, and indicated the shrub. “Just…that. The ice on it. It’s pretty.” He shrugged.

She looked blankly where he’d pointed. “…It’s twigs.”

“Pretty twigs,” he insisted, lips twitching. “The ice is really interesting! Sort of…wave-y? Ripple-y?”

“Kind of like icicles, maybe?” Ezran suggested, sounding a little winded as he leaned in to look. He evidently wasn’t having any easier a time with the walking than Callum.

Callum eyed the shrub appraisingly. “Yeah, something like that. Like sort of…lengthways icicles.”

Rayla shook her head at him. “It’s ice on twigs,” she said, exasperated. She was smiling a little, though. “Nothing special.”

“Well, I think it’s nice,” Callum announced, in staunch defence of the icy twigs in question. “And I want to draw it.”

She rolled her eyes, then reached out to tug at his cloak, beckoning him onwards. “Uhuh. Sure. But later. Now’s for walking.”

He mock-saluted, hand to his chest, and walked.

It was tough going. A mere hour later, his head was fogged with exertion and his legs were burning, and he seemed constantly out of breath. It wasn’t as though he was unaccustomed to the feeling of tightness in his chest, of labouring for steady breaths for what felt like hours on end – but it was distinctly different to experience it free of the usual panic or distress. He got out of breath during training, sure, but – not like this. Not in this strange, persistent way, where even the short breaks they took didn’t seem to help.

Given the exertion, it took him a while to realise that the breathlessness was a little weird. A lot of the walking was more like climbing, and it made sense to be panting during that. But they came to a plateau around midday, and walked on nearly-flat ground for a good fifteen minutes, and he still couldn’t quite catch his breath. “…Is it just me,” he managed, between gasps for air, “or is it weirdly hard to breathe today?”

Ezran’s breath was huffing and puffing too. “Not just you.”

Rayla glanced at them, and then at the mountain range ahead of them. “It’s the altitude,” she said, plainly, and both of them turned to blink at her, still plodding numbly onwards.

Callum frowned. “What?”

“Why we’re finding it harder to catch our breath,” she clarified, waving at the mountain. “It’s altitude. When you’re up high enough, the air’s thinner. Harder to breathe.” She shrugged. “And we’ve climbed a lot today.”

“…Oh,” he realised, nonplussed. Ezran, for his part, seemed too busy staring exhaustedly at the sky to have many thoughts on the matter. “Isn’t that mountain-sickness?”

“Same thing, different names.” Rayla agreed, pausing to stretch out her legs and shake them a little, as if to dispel some stiffness. Whether it was the oncoming new moon, or just the harshness of the ascent, she seemed to actually be feeling the exercise for once. “We must be past three thousand metres now. That’s when most people usually start getting mountain-sickness.”

He considered asking what that was in feet, but didn’t quite get around to it before his brother spoke. “That’s a lot of metres.” Ez mumbled, tiredly.

Callum glanced at him, then back at Rayla. “Should we be…worried, about this? I don’t know much about mountain-sickness, but can’t it get pretty bad?”

“We’d need to go a lot higher for the breathing to be an actual problem,” Rayla said, shaking her head. “But let me know if you get weird headaches, or feel sick, or dizzy. That’s the stuff to watch out for. For now, though…” She hummed pensively, and narrowed her eyes at the scenery. “…I’m thinking we won’t have to go much higher than this. It’s not like we’re trying to summit anything. We’re just trying to get onto the next mountain.” She tilted her head to scrutinise the route. She pointed out a vaguely-sloping plateau a fair distance away, somewhat lower on the mountainside than their current position. “I reckon we can start going down again that way, and then find somewhere to camp past there. That’s got to be a couple hundred metres lower. Should be easier to breathe.”

“Sounds good,” he sighed, and lifted his face to a cold breeze. He hadn’t expected to be grateful for the freezing weather, but with how hard he was working…if it had been warmer, he might have passed out by now. He pulled in a few more unsatisfying breaths, then pushed onwards.

After about half an hour, they stopped ascending quite so viciously and instead began a meandering up-and-down path along the mountainside, heading steadily downwards. This was when Callum discovered that going down mountains was just as hard as going up them, albeit in different ways. It was so icy that they had to take it painstakingly slow, and even then he felt constantly on the edge of a nasty fall. His toes crushed together at the fronts of his boots, beginning to grow sore.

The third time Callum slipped on ice and had to be steadied from falling face-first down-slope, Rayla went away and snapped a branch off of a large pine, shearing off its needles with her blade and scraping off most of the bark. She judged it against his height for a few moments before unceremoniously chopping several inches off the end. “Here. Walking cane.” She said, presenting him with it, and went off to go find another branch, which she prepared for Ezran.

They mumbled thanks at her, exhausted, and continued their descent with somewhat greater poise than before. The descent pulled at different muscles to the ascent, so his legs weren’t complaining quite as much, but the fronts of his toes were starting to hurt in that sharp way that suggested there’d be blisters soon. He’d never had blisters on the front of his feet before, and wasn’t especially looking forward to the experience.

The pine-canes weren’t sturdy, and Callum snapped his after less than an hour. By that point though he didn’t need it as much, so he just went without until – finally – Rayla glanced at the sky and announced their lunch break. “Oh, thank Mercy,” he muttered, dropping his backpack with abject relief and collapsing to the ground.

Ezran lowered his with rather more care, but made an incoherent noise of gratitude when he finally sat down. “Shouldn’t that be Fortitude?” he mumbled, tiredly. “Since we made it this far without falling over?”

“Speak for yourself,” Callum huffed, wiping a hand over his face. Even through the gloves, he thought he could feel the livid heat of his skin, warmed by exertion. He imagined he was probably super red-looking right now. “I’ve fallen over tons of times. Or…nearly fallen, anyway.”

Rayla lowered her bag and the tent pack carefully, as though being mindful of her other shoulder, then collapsed with obvious relief beside them. “You have a god of not-falling-over?” she asked, sceptically, and he rolled his eyes at her.

“Not a god,” he said back, just a little amused, eyes closing as he panted for breath. “Paragon.”

“You have a paragon of not-falling-over?” she corrected, and when he opened his eyes to glance sideways at her, her lips were twitching.

He snorted, then closed his eyes again. He half wanted to turn over and plant his face directly into a snow bank. It’d help him cool down, at the very least. “Pretty much,” he sighed, and after a moment of consideration, did reach to his side and pick up a handful of icy snow. He smooshed it onto his face, the ice crystals a little sharp-edged on his skin. “Endurance, and willpower, and keeping going even when stuff’s hard.”

“Fortitude’s a good Paragon for us right now, I think,” Ezran said, sounding exhausted, and Callum offered a wordless hum of agreement.

“If this had been an official mission, people would’ve sent us off with him, you know,” he said, almost wistful. “They’d have said ‘Fortitude follow you’. And ‘Prudence guide your feet’. That’s traditional for big or important or tough journeys.”

Rayla offered a dubious hum. “Well, this journey’s definitely all three of those.”

For a while, they just laid there, getting their breath back, trying to cool down. Callum’s under-layers began to feel cold and clammy with the sweat, indicating they’d probably smell terrible later on. He was too tired to bring himself to care.

Eventually, Rayla pulled herself up, even though she plainly didn’t want to. “Right,” she said, determinedly, in as bull-headed a manifestation of Fortitude that anyone could have asked for. “Food. We can’t take too long with this break, so…food.”

Callum made a face. “I’m really not hungry.” In the wake of the sheer exertion of the morning, eating seemed unthinkable. The mere notion turned his stomach.

“Yes you are. You’ve just not cooled down enough to feel it,” Rayla refuted, pragmatic, and went for the reserves of cooked meat she’d put in her bag. “It’s hard to eat after exercise, but when you’re on a stupid long journey, you do it anyway.” She opened the jar and waved it aggressively at them. Both of them complained pitifully at her, but she wasn’t having any of it. In short order they’d both reluctantly withdrawn a portion and sat up to start nibbling on it.

“You’re like aunt Amaya is about breakfast,” Ezran muttered, mouth part-full, chewing around the bite he’d taken. “She’s really bossy about that too.”

Rayla looked nonplussed. Plainly, she wasn’t sure what to think about the comparison.

“Imagine if we told her that,” Callum put in, uncertain whether to be amused or alarmed at the thought. “Wonder how she’d react to being compared to an elf.”

“She’d definitely make a pretty weird face,” Ezran offered thoughtfully. “She’d probably be glad Rayla’s making sure we’re eating, though.”

She grimaced at that, looking like she’d swallowed something sour. “Don’t know about that. She’d just stab me for running off with you two in the first place.”

Callum opened his mouth to protest, remembered the depth of his aunt’s sentiments for elves, then shut it. “…Well, I mean…”

“Don’t worry, Rayla,” Ez said, reaching out to pat her on the knee. “If you ever meet aunt Amaya, we’ll make sure we’re there, and then we can convince her to be nice to you. No stabbing.”

Rayla glanced at him, expression slightly pained. “…If you say so.” It was very obvious, from her face, that she had absolutely no intention of going near their aunt if she could help it. Not for the first time, Callum wondered what kind of reputation Amaya had in Xadia.

“We can keep teaching you sign language, too!” His brother went on, determinedly cheerful. “I bet she’d be too surprised at an elf trying to talk to her properly to, um,” he searched for a word.

“Stab me, clobber me with her shield, or throw me in a dungeon?” Rayla suggested, and both of them made faces at her. Callum, for his part, had recently seen Rayla contend with what would surely have been a fatal stabbing if he hadn’t tossed her assailant off a cliff, and wasn’t particularly keen on imagining any Aunt Amaya variations on the affair.

It was uncomfortably easy to picture, though. He’d seen one of his aunt’s famous Battalion sparring sessions, and she was…very, very good at fighting. Struck suddenly wordless, he said nothing.

Ezran shrugged. “Yeah, I guess.”

Rayla sighed, and for a moment, looked down at her left hand. She flexed its fingers carefully, slow and methodical, and Callum remembered how she’d been looking at it earlier. For all that she hadn’t wanted to talk about it, she’d seemed…unsettled. “Well,” she said, quietly, after a moment. “I guess sign language is…probably pretty good exercise, for this hand.”

“Keeping it moving, helping circulation?” Callum supplied, after calling back to mind the Healer’s advice. “Yeah, I guess it would be. We could do a quick bit of it now, while we’re resting?”

She eyed him, then rolled her eyes. “Suppose. Might as well make it something useful, though.”

“Like what?” Ez asked, intrigued.

“Like watch signals. Check-ins, and stuff. The kind of thing my lot would use ictus for.”

“Huh,” Callum blinked, and thought about it. It wasn’t like he’d not seen military sign language terms being used before, given who his aunt was, so… “Yeah, sure. What first?”

Rayla, apparently, had been drilled thoroughly enough in proper silent report-giving enough that she had a list of important terms ready to go. She determinedly worked her hands through learning the signs to demand a status report, report all-clear, report a problem, and report possible enemies in the area. It was all pretty basic, but she clearly wasn’t used to learning this sort of thing, and…well. And her hand was obviously giving her problems.

He didn’t comment, because he could see she didn’t want him to. But it was slow to move. The fingers trembled strangely in certain positions, and didn’t quite seem to respond right. Several times, between his demonstrations of new signs, he saw her flex the fingers and shake the hand, as if trying to dispel some stiffness that wouldn’t quite deign to leave...

“That’s probably enough for today,” he decided, once she’d navigated her hands through a quick practice exchange of an all-clear status report. “Or, at least, for now. Probably won’t sink in, if we try for more.”

She blinked, then nodded. “Yeah, probably,” she agreed, and glanced briefly at the way ahead. “We should be moving again, anyway.”

“Next time, we’ll teach you something more fun,” Ezran promised.

She glanced his way, smiling a little as she hefted her bags over her one good shoulder. “Like what?”

“Like talking about your favourite foods, maybe?” he suggested, picking up the bag with the egg carefully, and kneeling to let Bait jump onto its top, riding there like a monarch in his carriage.

“That sounds like a good way to get ourselves stupid hungry with nothing good around to eat.” Despite the words, she sounded amused.

Callum thought longingly of the castle meals, and regretted not eating more at lunch. Rayla had been right; he really had been hungrier than he’d felt at first. “Still nice to think about,” he said wistfully. “Give us something to look forward to when this is all done.”

“Suppose.” When he looked at her, she looked a little wistful herself, as though she were caught in similar thoughts of home.

As they started to walk, he glanced at her sidelong, and eventually asked “So…what are your favourite foods, back home?” If, as she’d claimed, everything in Xadia was magical…did that include the food? What did magic food taste like?

She hesitated for a moment, like she wasn’t sure whether she was supposed to say, or even if she wanted to. But then she smiled, still wistful, and started describing her favourite Xadian fruits and berries to them, and which ones she’d learned to find and pick herself in the forest she apparently lived in.

He listened to it all, interjecting with questions here and there, and…though she was pretty sparing with the details, started to get a better idea of the place she’d grown up in. A forest full of magic, and wild fruit vines growing on trees tall enough they’d probably overshadow the cliff his home castle was built on. Trees tall enough and immense enough to carve houses out of. It was so fantastical to imagine. Thinking of the wonders of Xadia, waiting so far ahead, made it a little easier to keep walking.

The hour passed like that, with easy curious conversation to take their minds off of the travel, and in the end Callum felt lighter than he had in days.

Even if Rayla wouldn’t tell him what was in a moonberry surprise.

 ---

 In the wake of the storm, the Healer’s house grew busy, and from his sickbed Corvus bore witness to it all.

The first day, there was a stream of miners displaced from the mountain by an avalanche. Broken bones on two, sprains on a few more. A day later one of the same group, only recently recovered from the mountainside, was brought in hypothermic and near-dead, losing two toes and a finger to frostbite before she was stabilised. No one had died, apparently, but it had been a near thing.

Now, the whole town was effectively on standby, waiting for the weather to improve. The tail-end of the thundersnow was still lashing at Verdorn’s periphery, for all that the mine-folk apparently thought it had moved past Farel – and, accordingly, the mines – by now.

“It’ll be another day before it’s safe to go back there,” said the Healer’s wife, a woman named Serris, who oversaw the mines and was apparently rarely home. “So in the meantime, we’ll just have to do our best impressions of directionless layabouts. At least you lot have the excuse of injury, eh?” This last comment she directed at her battered fellows in their beds, a good-natured jibe, and they jeered back at her.

“I’ll be glad to see a little more of your face in the meantime, at least,” said the Healer Marla, her voice dry. “And if you’re so offended by being a layabout, you can come help me mix these salves.”

“A harsh taskmistress, my wife,” commented Serris to the house’s residence, amused, before she went as commanded to help with the work.

Corvus quite enjoyed the company, in honesty. He’d grown accustomed to travelling and serving with the Battalion, and though he was frequently detached for his tracking endeavours, he missed the camaraderie of his fellows. It was good to have people to talk to, even if most of them were as bedridden as he was. And, with little else to do, they all spent a lot of time talking. He was recipient to a lot of questions about his current mission, which he couldn’t answer, and a lot of questions about the Battalion, some of which he could. He admitted when asked that he’d been told to stand by and heal, so wouldn’t be heading anywhere soon.

“I’m to get transportation to Greatport if I can do it without risking myself,” he said, a little wistful. He liked Greatport. If he had to convalesce anywhere, it would have been a good choice. But… “Apparently, I’ll have to hold off on that for a while, though.”

“You certainly will, master Corvus,” Marla said severely, without even looking up from her mixing. “Horseback would be terrible for you as you are now. It’s waiting for a cart to take you or nothing, and we’ve a while until the next of those is due to leave.”

So that was how his days passed, in the thick of the storm. He tried not to spend too much time worrying about the General, or the princes. For better or for worse, he was off the mission now. He just…wished he could have done better. If he had, maybe the princes would be safe now. Instead, he’d undoubtedly driven them straight into that deadly storm, with their captor potentially too badly injured to see to their safety.

He tried not to fret. But it was hard to avoid, when he had frostbitten testaments to the dangers of the mountains convalescing around him. The elf wasn’t the only danger to those boys, was she? And his failure had sent them straight into that gauntlet. He’d wanted to save them, but instead…

Still, Corvus did what he could to avert his thoughts. He’d sent what information he could to Amaya. There was nothing else he could do, at this point.

Except:

“The tavern had some interesting visitors today,” said Serris, after returning from checking in with her workers at the tavern in question. She shot a piercing look at Corvus as she spoke. “A couple of kids, one of ‘em in Crownguard armour. They said they’re tracking that elf.”

Corvus straightened on his headboard. So did everyone else in the house of healing. “Kids?” he repeated, then processed the Crownguard part. There was only one Crownguard he knew of who was young enough to easily be called a kid. He was suddenly at full attention. “Siblings?” he questioned, intent. “A girl with dyed hair? Her brother the Crownguard?”

Everyone was looking his way, now. “You know them?” Serris guessed, after a moment.

Lord Viren’s children, here? “I’ve met the Crownguard,” he said, slowly, mind working furiously. They were tracking the elf? That made no sense. That wasn’t a job for Crownguard, it was a job for the Battalion, the military – for him. And the dark mage…

He thought ‘elf’. He thought ‘dark mage’. Then he thought, ah.

For a moment, it all seemed to make sense. He considered Lord Viren with unease, and everything he’d heard of the man, working so closely with the General. Perhaps he wasn’t content with what could be harvested from the five felled Xadian assassins. Maybe he wanted the sixth, too, and had sent his daughter and son out to that effect…

…except, that didn’t quite fit.

“…Is that what they said?” Corvus asked, after a long silence, aware of the sudden quietness of the room of convalescents. “That they were after the elf?”

Serris eyed him, cautious. She folded her arms. “They tried to hide it at first, but, yeah. They didn’t know you were here, either. Seemed interested in that. They might come visiting soon.”

Corvus made a noncommittal noise, and tried to pore over his thoughts, tried to identify what tasted wrong about this situation. He’d been on a low dose of lilium for days now, and it slowed his mind more than he cared to admit. He needed his wits about him now, because there was something off here. Something important.

Slowly, through the fog, he drew the discrepancies from his gut into his mind.

Viren was Lord Protector now. If he wanted a pursuit of the elf, why not make it larger-scale? Why send only his children? Why not work with General Amaya, who was expressly pursuing the elf already, and surely had the best knowledge of the resources available? Soren certainly wasn’t a trained tracker. He doubted the girl, the dark mage, had that sort of training either, at her age-

He stopped. Examined the thought.

Dark mage. Tracking. Were there spells for that sort of thing?

For the first time, he felt an inkling of anger. If they had a way to find the princes and they’d been withholding it…!

Except that wasn’t right either. They said they were tracking the elf, not the princes. And, at this point, the news that the princes were actually alive probably hadn’t spread very far. So…Lord Viren had sent his children, a talented but inexperienced Crownguard and…a dark mage…in pursuit of an assassin thought to have slain royalty. Why? Were the ingredients worth so much to him? Was there some other motive?

…He’d sent his children covertly. Hadn’t given word to General Amaya, or Corvus would certainly have been notified by now. He wanted that elf found, and either he didn’t trust the General, or…

Or, there was some other motivation at play here. Something secret. Something, perhaps, that the Lord Protector would only trust to his own family.

Corvus recalled, all at once, that the elf had her wrist bound by magic. It was what had given him the advantage in the fight with her, knowing about it ahead of time, knowing what to target, what to exploit…and the Healer had said it was dark magic, hadn’t she? Dark magic, when there were only two dark mages who the elf might have encountered. One of those mages was now here.

Something isn’t right here, he thought to himself grimly, and felt his fingers itch for a quill. Amaya needed to know about this. But…

He sighed. Kora hadn’t returned in a while, so he could only assume she’d been put to work on the other end, relaying vital information to those places and people she was bound to. If he wanted to report, he’d have to do it by the town’s rookery, and send it to the Crow Office for redistribution. That would take time, and he still didn’t have the full story. If the Lord Protector’s children were here – if he could talk to them-

He needed to report. But it would be better to wait until there was more to say.

“If they ask…” Corvus said, slowly, to a dozen keen pairs of ears. “Tell them where to find me. I think we need to talk.”

--

End chapter.

Chapter Notes: https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1OGBo7nKVDIfWjhxGe90fwaS3lP0IfQJ3?usp=sharing

Link to PIAJ chapter notes folder (Google Drive folder including worldbuilding, commentary, medical notes, research notes, and misc notes for all applicable chapters within this section)

This chapter's notes cover: travel details, the Crow Lord’s office, Hope, Mercy scripture, Moonshadow religion, rare Moonshadow elf abilities.

Timeline: https://docs.google.com/document/d/107eD8zmLAAFBWSOgsLyl8g4pAdQF4EgMh4rpN_m91U4/edit?usp=sharing Link to PIAJ Timeline Google doc ( to be updated as story progresses)

PIAJ Masterpage: https://tenspontaneite.tumblr.com/piaj Link to PIAJ Masterpage on tumblr (containing links to chapters, meta, art, Q&As, and resources) (Link may not work properly on mobile/app)

Author Notes: 

So. It’s been a while. You can pretty much completely blame that on a single scene, which blocked me so hard that it actually kicked me directly out of the fandom. I’ve never had that happen before. I had to slowly claw my way back via my other tdp fics. The scene in question is written now, thankfully. I deferred it to the start of next chapter out of desperation, and then managed to write it all in a mad burst of inspiration the other day.

Various things have happened in my life that you can, like, vaguely catch hints of if you read back on my tumblr, if you’re into that sort of thing. Otherwise:

Credits: more Hogarth inspiration for one Sarli line in this chapter, specifically 'Where there is life, there is hope of change'. It's not word for word in the text, but there was definite inspiration there. I can't quite remember which book it was – In Extremis, maybe? Middle of its series, in any case.

Next chapter is done, and I’m very excited about it. It has some fun content, but most of all: it has my favourite Runaan plotline scene. I wrote it a long time ago, relatively early on in piaj development, and have been in love with it ever since. I’m so excited we’re finally to the point of me being able to publish it. I’m going to write a fucking huge author’s commentary section for that chapter’s extended notes, I have so much to say about it.

For now, though…I like this chapter a lot, actually. I’ve reread it so many times while trying to block-break over the last few months, and normally that would make me sick of it, but I still love it. Really enjoying starting to get to The Good Stuff. Please leave a comment if you enjoyed! Or some sort of stat enrichment! It’s incredible fuel for the writing engine.

[jj-bxby]

Rudy Pankow x Reader Request - Who’s Who

gif credit @toesure

Request - Can I make a Rudy Pankow request pls?? One where the reader and him are dating and the reader is part of the outer banks cast. They are doing The Who’s Who interview with Buzzfeed. They’re just being like super cute during the interview. Thanks! 🤗

Word Count - 1.2k

A/N - This is a piece where the reader is a part of the OBX cast as another character :)

“Rudy, I swear to god if you don’t stop shaking your leg right now,” you mumbled to your boyfriend as the camera’s light flickered on. He looked at you and grabbed your hand out of frame, giving it a squeeze as he smiled at you. Both of you were rather nervous, this was your first interview since you had told your friends you were dating but hadn’t brought it to public light, at least not yet. Luckily your friends were supportive as always, JD sending you both dumb memes about couples, Madilyn and Chase inviting you on a double date, and Madison always being there for you to talk about any relationship questions you had. It was like a fairytale for now, but the both of you had a few different late-night conversations about how your relationship being in the public eye could affect you. Gently sliding your hand from Rudy’s, you turned to look at Rachel, your interviewer for the day as she scribbled on a piece of paper.

“Alright guys, we’re going to be playing Who’s Who today. I’m sure you know how it works already, but I’m going to give you some questions and you’ll point to who is most likely to do the thing in question! Just be yourselves and feel free to talk more about the questions, okay?” The group chattered in agreement, and Rachel nodded.

“Okay, first up. Who’s most likely to mess up their lines?” You smiled and pointed to Rudy, as did everyone else. Well, everyone except Rudy himself of course, who had looked to Chase. He gave you a mock-gasp, when he saw your hand pointed to him, clutching his heart dramatically. “Seriously? Woooow. I just make up my own lines, sometimes is all!”

“To be fair, you making up lines stems from you forgetting them in the first place,” Madison pointed out, nodding to him.

“Look we got some of my best lines that way. Dare I say some of the best lines in the entire show,” He cocked his eyebrow and you laughed.

You mimicked your boyfriend's voice as you recited one of your favorites, “I can’t walk bro, I got polio.” Everyone erupted in laughter, while Rudy rolled his eyes. “Like I said, best lines in the show, man.”

Once the laughter had dropped off, Rachel moved to the next question. “Okay, who’s the most likely to fall or trip while filming?”

Everyone pointed to Madilyn, including herself. “Yeah, y'know that scene where I walked on the log after the storm? We had to do more takes of that than I’d like to admit, just because I kept falling off the log!” She laughed and looked at you, “And Y/N had to help me cover up the bruises the next day!” You smiled, remembering trying to brush color corrector and foundation onto Madi’s skin to cover up the nasty bruises she’d gotten, and failing horribly.

“Now that I think about it, Y/N did have one pretty hilarious trip at one point.” Madison said, glancing at you. “When we were doing a take of the Midsummer's party and she was wearing heels, she totally tripped on her own feet!”

Chase flashed a shit eating grin as he continued the story. “Yeah! And she wouldn’t have even fallen but Rudy tried to, uh, “catch” her,” Chase air-quoted, “but he ended up making them both fall. Luckily Rudy is just such a gentleman.”

You scrunched up your face and groaned while remembering that scene, but your boyfriend just threw his head back and laughed. “Hey you could have at least let me fall on top of you, that day, mister.” You joked as you bumped your shoulder into his lightly, giggling at the thought. He bumped you back, but it was harder than either of you had expected, and you fell off of your stool.

“Oh shit, babe,” Rudy said as he rushed to help you up. You sat there giggling on the floor as your boyfriend hopped out of his seat and held out his hand.

“Y‘know, I seem to fall a lot more with you around, ya dork.” You smiled as you took hold of his outstretched hand, him helping you to your feet while apologizing profusely. “Oh my god, it’s fine, Rudy! Look, I’m not broken!” You said, spinning in a circle before you smoothed out your dress. You glanced over at the others as you took your seat again, seeing the others had taken to staring at you both and grinning knowingly. You rolled your eyes as Madison wiggled in her seat at you, raising her eyebrows.

Rachel cleared her throat as she went back to her questions. “Alright guys, who is most likely to be found staying up all night?”

The votes were split between you and JD, both of you having pointed at each other. “Look I always get notifications from you texting me memes or dumb reddit posts at three a.m., JD!”

“Aha! So why are you checking them at three a.m., huh Y/N? You know I got read receipts on,” he accused, wiggling his finger at you.

You narrowed your eyes and slowly pointed your finger back towards yourself. “Touché.”

“Who’s most likely to be the ‘Cast Mom’?”

You perked as you pointed to yourself, pumping your fists in the air when everyone else did as well.

“I swear to god she has everything you could ever need in that damn purse of hers.” Rudy said with a laugh.

“She even kept fruit snacks in there for when I wanted something to snack on,” JD nodded. “Oh she has chips for me!” Chase chimed in excitedly.

“You don’t want to be around these boys when they’re hungry,” you explained.

“Yeah, y’all also have like an unlimited supply of Band-Aids and bobby pins in there too,” Madison added, Madi nodding in agreement.

“It’s true, she basically knows what we need before we need it! She’s also the best at making plans and getting all of us to show up to them!”

You look to Rachel dramatically. “What can I say, it’s hard raising five twenty-something’s all on my own.” You let out a little nose laugh at your own joke and saw the others smiling back at you, trying to contain their laughter.

“Alright, and final one for the day here, who’s most likely to end up together?”

Your eyes widened and darted to Rudy’s, before you both looked to your friends. All of them were making heart hands at the two of you while grinning devilishly. The blood rushed to your cheeks at their antics and you squeezed your eyes for a second shut as you smiled.

“Well I guess the cat’s out of the bag for everyone now, huh?” Rudy said as he passed a hand through his hair. He ducked over to give you a kiss on the cheek and flash you a grin.

“C‘mon, you guys are too cute together to keep it a secret!” Madison exclaimed.

“Yep, Madison’s right, guys,” Chase said, Madi and JD agreeing.

“Alright, alright!” You pulled out your phone and opened up your instagram, pulling Rudy over to you for a kiss as you snapped a picture of it. You tapped away at your keyboard as your friends “Awwwed” in the background. Rudy read the caption over your shoulder.

“well, it’s official now. @rudeth and i are dating 🥰”

After sliding your phone back into your pocket, you grabbed your boyfriend’s hand and laced your fingers with his.

“So I think we win the ‘Cutest Couple’ award, sorry guys,” Rudy said solemnly as he nodded to Chase and Madilyn, smiling at the giggles coming from you.

“Hell yeah we do.”

tags + moots ~ @joshy-obx @jjsredhat @jjsbxtch @jjsmaybcnk @drewswannabegirl @starksweasley @starlightstarkey @stargazingstarkey @aesthetic-lyss @shawnssongs @futuretaxcheat @overly-b

[nightswithkookmin]

RE JIKOOK IS ESTRANGED

Them

Me

Lol

JUMP CUT ALERT: This is a continuation of an ongoing discussion behind the scenes.

DISCLAIMERS:

Article 19, UN Universal Declaration of Human Rights: Every person has the right to freedom of opinion and expression which includes the freedom to hold an opinion without interference through any media.

Misinterpretation of my opinion, my words constitute a violation of my human rights. Please do not take my words out of context, share it on another platform in furtherance of your own agenda. If you do hold yourself accountable first. You are the author of your own intentions and interpretations.

I do not intend malice by my words nor do I seek to be disrespectful of any member mentioned in here. I simply enjoy mentally stimulating conversations and thought provoking discussions.

Let the records show.

MATTER OF THE DAY

Thanks to everyone that's shared your thoughts on this matter with me and thanks to that person that brought this matter to my attention.

I haven't looked into it and I don't know how severe this issue is.

I think people have the right to believe in anything they want to believe in. Personally, I don't think Santa is real but clearly others do, doesn't mean I'm sane or that they are crazy.

I don't think discussions of this nature should be about who is right or who is wrong. Everyone's opinion is valid and holds true to their own delusions. Lol.

Frankly, I prefer this kind of ship wars to the slurs and abuses and they are distributing hard core porn now?? What is going on! Chileee.

I have never believed JK and Tae to be anything more than friends. At one point, I wondered if they were even friends at all lol but since they admitted to having had a falling out themselves at one point the topic is now moot.

Tae and JK have- had- have a really special bond. To me anyways. I always saw them as the evil power twins of BTS due their ability to come together to wreck havoc especially on Bang PD's scripts. Lol. I think I have mentioned this a few times now.

I smiled to myself when I heard them call themselves partners in crime. The bond is there no two ways about it- you either appreciate it for what it is or you don't. personally I love their bond. Can't stand their shippers but I love their bond. They keep the drama going for me- love it. Lol

The question has always been whether their bond is as profound as their shippers make it seem. I argue it's not and I will always argue it is not. Lol

I think it's only fair that they also question whether Jikook's bond is as profound as we make it sound. I really can't be mad at that. All is fair in love and war- at the very least we can agree to disagree.

I mean even Jikookers themselves question the extent of JK and JM's bond. Some think they are just very special friends and nothing more. I think I talked about this in my is Jikook real post when I mentioned labels and the degree of love between JK and JM?

We know JK and JM have a unique bond. The question then is how far does that bond go. Is it just platonic, romantic or something in between?

This is the question I was aiming to answer with my is Jikook real post. My objective was to try and dismantle all the nuances that keep us from seeing the 'truth' about Jikook- that they are real. At least the way I see them.

I talked about unrealistic expectations we have of Jikook, false conditionings that often leads us to see Jikook as something more than they are- the amplified Jikook. We get used to highlight reels of Jikook's interactions in edits such that we feel there is something wrong with them when we see them in real time.

I mentioned that Jimin's nurturing nature often also estops people from reading more into his relationship with JK. He is nurturing of everyone, JK ain't special- they argue, just as this person is doing.

I talked about Jimin's Idol persona, the facade of the boy in love with JK- Jimin's role within BTS since debut and how that can equally blind us into thinking Jikook is something more or less than they really are. I have a post dedicated to this topic sitting in my drafts so I will not go into the details of it here. Please look forward to that.

But this person's post touches on another aspect of Jimin's personality that I feel is one of the things that often keeps us from seeing his relationship with JK for what it really is- his inclination for professionalism.

I keep saying this, several times now, that Jimin's Idol persona to me seems well developed, elaborate and very elusive.

I have mentioned a few times how I think during Jikook break ups that they keep it civil and professional for the sake of the team and that you might not even notice the difference especially if you place high value on their skinship.

The skinship would be there, the cordiality and civility would equally be there- except for moments when they are fighting, that gets bloody. Lol. They are best friends at the very least. It is why it's important to reevaluate the metrics we use to determine whether or not they are a couple.

I wish I could dialogue with this person to understand her assessment of Jikook and what she is using to determine whether or not Jikook are a couple and what makes her think Tae and JK are. Know what I mean?

What makes her think Jikook were a couple before 2017? What makes y'all think Jikook are a couple at all? I would like to hear from y'all- but come at me with the skinship bit and I'll block you deadass. Lol

So on this person's post, I think I agree with her assessment of JM's persona but I don't agree with the Jikook have been broken up since 2017. And I think I understand where this is coming from... I think some of us do. Yes they had a few fights that year especially leading up to Jimin's birthday- August was it? but we all know JK more than made up for it with the damn GCFs. Lol. kindly visit the timeline, peruse as many content as you can and form your own opinion on it. This is just mine.

Are Jikook Jikooking all the time? Absolutely not. They are human too. They fight, they make up, they break up they get back together, they have introverted, extroverted moments, they go up, they go down- have bad hair days, it's all part of their dynamics I'm afraid. From my point of view of course.

I feel some people notice these things too and when they sense Jikook aren't in a good place they bow out and Jump ship- I don't blame them. They are shippers not supporters. What Jikook need are supporters not shippers- or maybe both, do you.

Could this person be one such people? DNF shippers? Given up on Jikook before the end of their story? I don't know. May be.

Jikook is not a fantasy that you ship. It's a relationship that you support. You can't escape into them. They are an ongoing love story- chapters close, chapters open, you just have to ride it out till the very end.

I think the challenge of their post for me is whether or not Jikook is a performance. Her post leans into the whole Jikook is fanservice bull especially in light of the recent photoshoot video which some are using as evidence Jikook don't 'click' when the cameras are off- the lies they tell on Beyonce's internet!

I think I have speculated on this and shared my thoughts on this whole Jikook is fanservice bit. I will delve deeper into it in my next post on Jimin's idol persona but as I've already said, Jikook is fanservice is equally a misnomer.

Yes Jikook does fanservice sometimes, but they are not fanservice. Fanservice is the cover for their relationship. It's their glass ceiling- nothing to see here folks just two snakes under glass. Keep it pushing. (Sorry. Couldn't help myself. Lol)

But you do raise a valid question, what is Jikook like when the cameras are not filming?

Is the mood of Jikook in that footage the general mood of Jikook behind cameras as Tuktukkers are claiming? They barely interact, JM doesn't pay much attention to Kook, yadda yadda yadda?

And the part that gives me a complex, that JK only interacts with JM when they are the center of attention. Huh???????????

Sigh.

I feel caught between a rock and a hard place on this one.

The theory you pointed out in support of this assertion isn't mine and I think I made it clear I didn't share the same thoughts on it. I said it was valid nevertheless. Chilee, this is hard. Lol

Yes JK is an introvert, Jimin is an extrovert, JM doesn't live for JK, all that is true and some Jikookers have said that too- so when you ask, if this is who they are when the cameras are off does that mean what they do when the cameras turn on is fanservice-

I-👁👄👁

I don't know the thought process that went into that theory so I can't confidently defend it. I'll ask? Lol.

Personally, I'd like to know whether or not they see the tension in that footage as tension in the first place. Chileee I don't know.

I see it as tension. Not a very serious one though. So we'd have to agree to disagree on that one.

But the part I can argue, the part I agree with is Jikook aren't hyper super duper lovey dovey on each other all the time. They aren't cuddly all the time. They have their moments of quiet- Jimin seems like the more affectionate kind who'd rub all over JK in the comfort of their homes but still...

If you ask me though, I think Jikook are tamer on cameras than they are behind scenes. I always talk about the fear and panic in the members' eyes when they see Jikook gravitating towards each other- it's probably because they know the extent of Jikook's shenanigans. They know how worse it can be because they've seen it all.

And when JK panics sometimes when JM gets closer too you just know dude is scared perhaps because of his Mochi chick's devil may care shamelessly in love policies- Jimin wild. Bless him.

I did say also that Memories 2019 is equally eye opening. These were censored bits. BigHit was holding all of that and giving us crumbs- stingy mfs. Bless.

All that said, again I don't think Jikook are hyper lovey on eachother behind the scenes. Another part I diverge from that view is that this is not exactly off camera. It was just behind the scenes of a photoshoot. Something we've seen a countless times.

This is not BTS's first ever behind scenes photoshoot. It's just a different angle that's all.

They were working. They were at work. This wasn't an alone private space for them so they can't base on this to say Jikook don't interact when the cameras are off.

The cameras were rolling. We saw them interact, JM was interacting with everyone the way he always does on camera all the time except he wasn't interacting with JK the way he does all the time, grainy footage or not- I mean let's call a spade a spade and not a big fat spoon. Lol

As to why he was doing that- let's just say there are many schools of thoughts.

My thought as I've said is JM was freezing JK out. I think with anyone that's recognized and is familiar with Jikook fights, that mood is all too familiar as I mentioned earlier.

If JM was being courteous and not mad at his man then he would have kept it 'professional' and done the 'fanservice' bit with Jk as per usual just as this person is saying since the cameras were still rolling.

Jikook is not fanservice. They are real.

I have refrained from providing a detailed analysis of that '5 minutes' footage for reasons I will explain later when I do share my thoughts on that footage- eventually. Some day.

But my hypothesis remains the same that I think Jikook were fighting or had a minor issue. As to why they were fighting, chileee I don't know. The confirmation bias in me feel it had something to do with JM's birthday but honestly it could have been over anything at all- dumplings, microphones- we all saw that slap on stage, a certain Iphone notification perhaps, did JinMin make a secret VLive without Kook again? Lol

There are plethora of reasons, I can only speculate on a few. And I think we've all seen Jimin when he is not 'Jimining' with the others, JK included. Take his mood with Tae at GDA for example- since this is not a VMin post I won't go into it.

But it seems they squashed whatever beef they were having on stage when JM extended his hands to Tae and they shaked it out.

We've seen him and Suga bicker too- which again, I am not gonna to get into out of respect for their shippers but I can point you to the On comeback VLive early this year when Suga touched JM and JM mouthed Hajima to him- which I think had something to do with what was going on with him and JK at the time but that is besides the point. Every shipper for themselves.

I contrast his 'fights' with Suga and V to show you the difference between Jimin being professional and courteous and Jimin being rah rah. He was sat next to suga, talking and laughing with him but snapped the moment Suga held his back.

He did the same in the Dynamite MV Vlive, smiling and laughing with Suga but the moment JK teased him with the Yoonmin comment his countenance fell.

Jimin is not that good of an actor if you ask me. I have said he is very Kumbaya in nature, often makes compromises for the sake of the team but that don't mean he is a pushover or one to trifle with- he scares me when he is mad. Lmho.

The scene in that footage didn't look to me as that he was being nice and courteous to JK- is that y'all's definition of professional courtesy? Damn.

If they were having a lover's squabble then the 'icy' mood of Jikook we saw in that footage is not the general mood of Jikook when the camera's are turned off.

I have to state again that I don't know much of what goes on behind the cameras and most of the things we see sometimes are equally missing context.

That been said we have seen enough of Jikook 'behind cameras' and they are more intimate than we can imagine. A certain cozy selfie at the back of an abandoned truck comes to mind. Whatever they were doing at the back of the track wasn't intended for the cameras judging from JK's reaction.

We've had glimpses of Jikook when they are not the center of attention enough to have a fair idea of what they are when cameras are off and I don't think it is that mood we saw in that footage.

We saw them at Jingle ball bell, towards the end of 2019. We saw them in their own space doing what they do best- making us feel single as fuck. Bless them.

We've seen them at awards, we've seen JK eating Jimin's ear nom nom to calm him down- like I would have just bought him icecream to calm down his nerves or rubbed his back but whatever JK. He is your man; you know him best. Good for him. Good for both of you. Now come back and feed us.

And the bit about JK only laughing with JM when he noticed he was on the Bangtan Bomb cameras in that footage- now that's nasty below the belts phony ass ass! I felt that one straight in my chest, shit. Lol

Dude was in a doghouse it seemed and I noticed them stealing glances at each other and.... sigh.

I just think JK was looking for an opening to warm his way back into JM's good graces- it's really nothing we haven't seen before.... sigh.

This is 2020 that narrative of JK hates Jimin, JK doesn't like JM needs to stop. It's dead. Pack it up. Chileee, y'all tried it with this one.

Jk is nice to JM only when the cameras are on him? Nice try.

JK is so fake and fraudulent he glared RM down till he stepped away from Jimin- again, in the very same photoshoot footage y'all swear to God is proof Jikook is not real.

Find it. RM stood next to JM. Looks up see's something- or someone. Does his tell- the hand to head thingy he does when JK glares at him over Jimin. He backs away inches from JM.

Cut to JK. Dudes a mood. Jin bumps into him, stares at him but JK wouldn't even look at him and then deadass looks away grumpyly- talk of professionalism. You doing great swidy keep going!

You can hide a relationship, fake it on God but you can never hide the intimacy. Taekook just lack that intimacy, I'm sorry. Even in that 'estranged' moment Jikook's intimacy was still there-

Even in whatever mood JK was in- which again, I believe was just due to their lover's squabble- JK still was claiming his man and exercising his right of authority over him. That's how you know they are not broken up. In my opinion. Chileee. I'm gonna get in trouble. Deep sigh.

Y'all think JK was hovering over Jimin because he was preparing to strike him down like a censored censored censored? Yea, he was preparing to strike alright- All the corners of Jimin's heart. Y'all better stop before I find you. Lol

I said I wasn't going to analyze the footage in this post but damn. This man out here serving us all kinds of brooding assorted jeonlous as his man takes a time out or two to wiggle wiggle wiggle on him Malfroy style and y'all are out here peddling nonsense. Strike one.

He was a mood alright. Did y'all see Tae rubbing his chest, arms and legs, ears did y'all see any body else in there doing that for him? Y'all's falcon cannot hear his falconer give it up and sorry, Jikook can't relate.

As I've posited, JM I feel was mad as hell for whatever reason and wasn't in the space to be that person JK needed him to be- in that moment. Doesn't mean they are like that behind scenes all the time.

And before I get attacked again for causing drama, being toxic etc by Jikookers understand that I am just a delusional person shipping these two in a way that makes sense to me. Write me off as delulu, and go please.

Whatever ambiguity surrounds that moment, to me, Jin and RM's reaction to JK clarifies things a bit. Jikook were boiling hot. JK was still keeping an eye on his man. Lol. Bless them. That's my conclusion. I'm running miles with that. Catch me. Lol

Feel free to come up with your own theory in a way that makes sense to you.

I'm not sure how long that fight lasted but from the rain day incident I'm hoping it wasn't that long. Jikook are fine I believe- I hope. Judging from the way JM drew JK out in his VLive with the whole I miss JK comment? Did that not sound familiar to y'all? And that Mickey mouse thingy- JM ain't slick. Bless him.

JM is the perched akekeke whisperer whispering all kinds of things in JK's ear, feeding JK news of what goes on on social media and what not. Dude don told his man they won a BB on his birthday, told his man Jin wasn't happy he chose his bag over his- definitely told his man Army was missing him- what? I'm going with that too sue me. Lol

Did you or did you not see Jk coming out to do a live log afterwards? And JK seemed less grumpy, in very high spirits? Wedding bells- I'm manifesting it for JK. Manifest with me.

Remember when JM did a log and talked nonsense about JK, and JK did a rebuttal log to respond to JM and address some of the things JM had said about him? Remember that? It's a jikook thing and it's back😌

I have said JM uses social media to connect with Army while JK uses it as an outlet to express himself. Through out his Live he kept talking about how he wasn't prepared to do a live and it shows in the way he kept saying it was awkward, he just kept it business and didn't know what else to share... I wonder who put his paws on him, dragged his ass to turn on the camera because Armys had asked of him- a certain quick tempered chick who dragged his man out on social media to do the whole Chuseok greetings 2020 on Twitter perhaps?

And JK is so whipped he'd do just about all the hoops to appease his man- Jikook AU written by Goldy. High five. No but seriously...

Behind the scenes, JK sneaks into JM's bed at night- Taekook does it too? Please! The look on JM's face when RM spilled that tea is enough said.

There's only two people in BTS that panic and don't want us to know they lay one on God in bed and it's not Tae Kook.

JK: Jimin hyung and I will sleep here

JM: how about we let the others choose first

Everyone shares a room:

Footage:🦄🍲🐯🧀🐺🍟🐓🥛🐑🛏

JIKOOK share a room:

Footage: 🚪👀

Behind the cameras Jikook sneak into each others bed- camera caught them live. You saw JM's face, I can't make this shit up. Lol

Behind the scenes, Jikook do laundry at 1am. *insert JM pervy face meme.

Chileee, y'all making me trip with this one. Deep breaths.

Jikook have their moments. This was one of them. Can they be human? Please. Thank you.

At this point, these folks are not even shippers. They is shoppers shopping a man for their bias. Lol. Just admit y'all want Jeon thick thighs strong butt for your bias and go. Just admit you want some tall glass of Tiger charming face husky voice strong chest for your bunny and go. Lmho

Chilee, when we say Tae and Kook had a falling out we don't mean they freeze eachother out behind cameras. Hell, we don't even mean they fake their bond or interactions. C'mon! Tae and JK admitted they are not lovers and y'all is bitter. That's why y'all is making up this nonsense about Jikook. Speak the truth and shame the devil. Peter would be proud.

When we say Tae Kook is not real, We just mean JM spends JK's birthday with him while every one including Tae is out there cruising for Jesus with friends. We just mean Jikook claim eachother even when they beefing. That ship beefed and didn't even know they was beefing and they are real? Damn.

We just mean Jikook make efforts for each other even when they are having bad days- Had it not been for Jimin they'd still be gnashing on these cold streets. Place some respect on his name, y'all's ungrateful. Lol

Tae and JK don't want each other they both want Jimin- there. I said it.

Thanks for attending my Tedtalk. 👁👄👁

Now where was I? Never mind. I'm just gonna go burn some sage. There's too much negativity going on around. Hakuna matata!

There is nothing wrong with Taekook as a ship. Personally, I'm a multishipper I ship all the ships but I support Kookmin. I don't mind their shippers calling them whatever, but my eyes twitch when people who claim they support Jikook act wishy washy with Jikook. Lol. Like are you going to withdraw your support of Kookmin if JK sits on Tae's lap?👀 Yall make me nervous. How can you think Jikook is real but then look at Taekook and go huh??? What are y'all seeing that I can't see?

Like those are two completely different dynamics. It's the skinship isn't it? Talk to me. Jikookers who see something nonplatonic in Taekook honestly give me trust issues. Y'all have me out here looking over my shoulders.

I am delusional but I'm confident in my delusions because to me it is about the love and support for JM and JK as LGBTQ plus couples. Please stop shipping Jikook, stop shopping JK and JM for eachother and start supporting them because they are real.

IN MY OPINION.

Signed,

GOLDY

[captainjonnitkessler]

Does anyone wanna hear about the absolute mess of family drama I’ve been embroiled in for the last year

(long post below the cut)

The Incident:

So last August I was at a family party, a dinner for my grandmother’s birthday. I’m hanging out in the family room with my uncle, his girlfriend, and my aunt. I’ve been trying to leave for twenty minutes but I came with my mom who’s busy showing my cousin something, so I’m waiting for her to finish when I hear my uncle say in regards to his daughter’s doctor (that he hates, because she was chosen by his daughter’s mother, which is a Whole Thing) - “No, she’s Indian. Fuckin’ terrorist, with one of those little dots on her forehead. It’ll give me something to aim at, at least.” 

And everyone else in the room just kind of nods along, and I’m like “uhh what the fuck is wrong with you?” And he looks absolutely surprised and says “what?” To which my aunt responds “Well, that wasn’t a very nice thing to say.” And I’m like “no, it’s a horrible thing to say, you can’t just call all Indian people terrorists”. 

My uncle responded “What do you think I did for five years in Iraq?” (*now we don’t have time to unpack ALL that.jpg*)

Now I was pretty fucking shocked, and I hate hate hate hate hate confrontation. At this point my adrenaline skyrocketed, I felt shaky and sick and wasn’t super sure of what I was saying. I said something along the lines of “fuck the military and fuck you”, and he said “who do you think you are to talk to me like that? I’ll kick your ass!” but by this point I was on my way out of the house. I said terse goodbyes to the rest of the family and left with my mom who followed me out. 

The general family reaction was that I way overreacted and was out of line to talk to my uncle like that. There was a lot of “well, he shouldn’t have said that, but that wasn’t the time or place to bring it up”, etc. 

And I DO wish I’d handled it a little better! But I was in absolute shock at the time and then my hatred of confrontation kicked in and I wasn’t thinking super straight so yeah, I caused a bit of a scene but like . . . he threatened to MURDER a woman for her religion. So I feel like maybe one of those is worse!!

The Aftermath:

For a week afterward, my mom and I didn’t see or speak to anyone in my extended family. Which is weird, because my mom calls my grandmothers every couple of days at minimum to check up on them, and even after over a week of radio silence not a single person called my mom to check up on HER. 

When she did finally start calling them again, she told them that we were not going to be attending any event that my uncle was also attending (i.e., all of them). They were FURIOUS. 

They told her that we were tearing the family apart, that we were overreacting, that we need to respect his right to his opinion - all that. After that, a couple of my aunts called my mom to try and talk her into reconciling with my uncle, which she staunchly refused on the grounds of my uncle has ALWAYS been violent and racist and she’s sick of the family making excuses for him. 

Worth noting: to this day, not a single goddamned person in the family has called, texted, or otherwise contacted me in any way. Not when it happened, not to get my version of events, not to check in, absolutely nothing. Everything has gone through my mom, despite the fact that she wasn’t even part of the original incident and while she was very supportive of me, it was my initial decision to leave and to not go back to other family events. 

I still haven’t spoken to anyone in the family, with the exception of going to brunch with my grandmother a couple times, wherein she tried to guilt us into sweeping it all under the rug. A lot of “Of COURSE he’s not racist, he has friends of lots of different colors! He’s not homophobic just bc he supports Trump, his best friend is a lesbian!” My mom and I both tried explaining that supporting Trump means throwing marginalized people under the bus by default but they just called us close-minded and told us we had to accept his opinion if we want them to accept ours. We refused and shortly after the pandemic started and we stopped seeing them anyway, as my great-grandmother is immunocompromised.

Now:

It’s largely been a moot point since the pandemic hit, but my great-grandmother is turning 85 and really wants the entire family there. Now, I’m not going anyway because I work in a hospital and I’m not going to a large gathering for an immunocompromised person during an ongoing pandemic (you absolute dumbasses), but I wasn’t going to go in any case because it’s almost certain my family will be talking shit about the BLM protesters and I’m gonna start another fight if I hear that. So tbh I think my family’s a little relieved I’m not going after all.

But my sister just told my other sister that she thinks we’re overreacting, that we “have to accept that people have different opinions” and we “can’t keep attacking everyone who doesn’t think exactly like us”. And I am getting so sick and fucking tired of explaining that there is not like, a base level of racism I’m gonna ignore. There’s not a line that’s like “ok after this point it’s acceptable to call someone out on their racism”. That line is set at 0, okay, it’s 2020, I’m not gonna hold their fucking hands and walk them through “and this is why we don’t threaten to murder people with a different skin color or religion”. This wasn’t “we disagreed about where the city should allocate funds in this year’s budget”, this was a violent racist talking about murdering a woman he disagreed with. 

I’m not gonna attend events with a violently racist and sexist asshole and just kind of pretend I’m cool with it. (Also I don’t know for sure if he’s transphobic but I know for a fact he doesn’t think NB identities are real. And since I just came out to my family I don’t wanna deal with that bullshit.) And I don’t know. Maybe I should go and just keep calling people out on whatever bullshit I hear. Maybe I should try harder to educate my family on why I’m mad and why that sort of thing is unacceptable. But I really, really don’t think they’re willing to hear me. 

And I feel really bad because I know family is SUPER important to my grandparents, but . . . it’s really not to me. I’d rather hang out with my friends who love and support me for real than my family who “accepts” me as long as they can ignore me. And again: not one single person has bothered to call me in the 10 months since this happened, so how much could they actually care that I’m not there? 

And so that’s all my family drama, and if anyone has read this far thank you for reading, I just really wanted to vent about All This. 

[thesunnyshow]

Name: leyna

Age: 1X

Writing Blog URL(s): @jensungf​

What fandom(s) do you write for? nct (dream)!

Nationality: american!

Languages: english, vietnamese (spanish??? very bad)

Star Sign: capricorn sun!! 

MBTI: enfp-t hehe

Favorite color: lavender

Favorite food: beef chow fun/noodles

Favorite movie: our times!

Favorite ice cream flavor: chocolate chip cookie dough

Favorite animal: cats! 

Coffee or tea? What are you ordering? hmm i’m not a big fan of either tbh but vietnamese iced coffee with a LOT of condensed milk is super good 

Dream job (whether you have a job or not): honestly idk! maybe an editor or professor who knows

Go-to karaoke song: “gee” by snsd or “if it ain’t you” by alicia keys

If you could have one superpower, what would you choose? vocal-induced manipulation or basically power of persuasion with my words hehe

If you could visit a historical era, which would you choose? maybe the 90s! i really like the vibes and aesthetic

If you could restart your life, knowing what you do now, would you? no bc learning is a part of life!

Would you rather fight 100 chicken-sized horses or one horse-sized chicken? horse sized chicken hahaha bc horses are wild

If you were a trope in a teen high school movie, what would you have been? drama queen LOLL

Do you believe in aliens/supernatural creatures? to an extent yes! 

If a genie gave you three wishes, what would they be? world peace, equality for all, and hmm true love in every life i live

Fun fact about yourself that not everyone would know? i have 3k followers on pinterest hahaha weird flex

When did you post your first piece? april 2020!

Do you write fluff/angst/crack/general/smut, combo, etc? Why? i write most fluff and angst or a combo! with some crack bc who doesn’t love some humor hahah

Do you write OCs, X Readers, Ships...etc? i write reader inserts

Why did you start writing on Tumblr? ive been writing on tumblr since 2015, just for diff fandoms bc i always loved reading fanfics and i wanted to become a better writer

What inspires you to write? other writings, real life experiences, dreams, basically anything!

What genres/AUs do you enjoy writing the most? i find fluff easier to write than angst but i like a good balance of all the genres! i rly like writing soulmate!aus for some reason or just some domestic fluffy established relationship stuff

What do you hope your readers take away from your work? i hope they can actually feel the emotions i’m hoping to convey from each character (referring to my more angsty works) or their sweet tooth gets satiated hehe

What do you do when you hit a rough spot creatively? i try to read other stories or talk to my moots to help me!

What is your favorite work and why? Your most successful? i think my fav has to be only forever because it’s something that i feel like is really cliche but it actually represents the meaning of young innocent first loves. i reminds me of what someone’s youth should sort of feel like. my most successful has been jsmr: sugar and spice because who doesn’t love jsmr!jeno and some sweet fluff and a spicy make out scene 🤭

Who is your favorite person to write about? jeno or jaemin tbh

Do you think there’s a difference between writing fanfiction vs. completely original prose? there is a slight difference because fanfiction provides you a sort of foundation with characters but to be honest, i believe that if you just switch the names and perspectives for most of the stories on here, it would become a bestselling hit because it conveys the same emotions and it’s just as enjoyable to read. the writers on here are truly exceptional. 

What do you think makes a good story? i definitely think little details and the nuances that add to the plot development and character development. most importantly, if a story evokes emotions from me and i can feel the story then i think it’s beautiful in itself. 

What is your writing process like? for me, i can come up with an idea based off of anything that might inspire me. like watching something, reading another story or just a dream i have. then i like to outline my stories by bouncing ideas with my best friend and from there once i figure out all the points i wanna hit i start writing! or for spur of the moment fics i deadass just start writing

Would you ever repurpose a fic into a completely original story? yes, most likely. 

What tropes do you love, and what tropes can’t you stand? i love fwb to lovers and enemies to lovers! also soulmate!aus / tatbilb tropes cus i’m a sucker for cheesy stuff. i’m not a big fan of cheating/parent/apoc!aus or love triangles. oh and i can’t stand slow burn 😭

How much would you say audience feedback/engagement means to you? as someone who lives off of validation, it means a lot and motivates me to write my stories and post them! we put so much hard work into our stories, so feedback and engagement is honestly the least you can do 🥺

What has been one of the biggest factors of your success (of any size)? i think just being in a community with other talented writers has taught me a lot!! and of course, having people read my work.

Do you think fanfic writers get unfairly judged? yes! all the time. 

Do you think art can be a medium for change? yes, maybe not on a macro scale but personally definitely. 

Do you ever feel there are times when you’re writing for others, rather than yourself? sometimes, but i always try to pull myself back into why i really started writing. but writing for others helps motivate me. 

Do you ever feel like people have misunderstood you or your writing at times? not on a serious level! it’s more so how details and events are interpreted but it’s fun to see how ppl have different perspectives on own piece versus your own vision.

Do your offline friends/loved ones know you write for Tumblr? yes!! not my family ofc but my close friends do and support me 100% and i’m forever grateful for this

What is one thing you wish you could tell your followers? thank you so much for everything you’ve ever done for me no matter how little or small it may seem, it means the world to me. 

Do you have any advice for aspiring writers who might be too scared to put themselves out there? i think you need to realize why you’re writing and it’s because it brings you happiness, and you’re sharing your beautiful work out there and it has the possibility to change someone’s life whether it’s bringing them a little bit of joy or helping them feel emotions. you might discover things you never knew about yourself as well. 

Are there any times when you regret joining Tumblr? not really! as of recently i’ve seen a lot of changes with the platform and although it’s a big struggle, i can’t regret it because it’s brought me so much.  

Do you have any mutuals who have been particularly formative/supportive in your Tumblr journey? i’d hate to pick and choose because all my mutuals have really helped me in some way whether or not they know it because they inspire me, motivate me, and are just genuinely amazing people to talk to. but honestly talking to mary / @neostains​, nana / @nanasarea​, anie / @mjlkau​ have helped me open up from being shy and i appreciate them a whole lot. 

Pick a quote to end your interview with:  “to burn with desire and keep quiet about it is the greatest punishment we can bring on ourselves.” - spanish poet federico garcia lorca

[dysphoric-affect]

Actually, The Sequel Was Better

          Often times, not just in gaming but with entertainment in any medium, there can be a tendency to look upon the first in a series as the definitive, superior entry, with all others to follow damned to never be able to measure up. The original titles gain an almost religious reverence and deference shown to them, with them continuing to be pointed to as the standard bearer for later titles to attempt to measure up to. Sometimes the original may indeed be the superior entry, but often it seems to me this consideration being shown to it truly stems from its place chronologically in the series rather than any objective consideration of its merits compared to the sequels, with the reasons for why being manufactured after the opinion is formed, rather than serving as the basis for it.

          I dispute this whole notion. The original games in a series tend to excite because it is our first time being exposed to its various elements: the characters, big picture story of those characters’ world, the core gameplay mechanics, the set of weapons and abilities available, and so on. However, while these elements may be good, often the excitement that’s felt for them has more to do with the sensation of freshness from not having seen these things before compounding on their solid quality, rather than being as purely based on their quality as such “original is the best” devotees would lead you to believe. Essentially, when an original game in a series is good, we all will tend to enjoy a sort of “honeymoon” phase with it where we’re caught up by all its good qualities. Some simply remain in that phase, hence the loyalty to the original.

          The problem with such unquestioning loyalty to the originals is that it misses the shortcomings they can and do often have, encouraging a stagnation that never fixes them. The thing about the first iteration of game series is that the ideas are just being tested out for the first time in the wild as it were, and things that overly complicate and slow down character progression, make the pacing of the narrative feel off, don’t satisfy in their depth on customization and so on can be missed during a studios internal testing and never discovered until the trial by fire that is being opened up to gamers to explore. Some of these mistakes could go to misjudgments arising from the studio, whether general bad calls or simply learning the nature of their new IP and what does and doesn’t work in how they should handle it. Other things aren’t mistakes at all in the short term necessarily, but with time giving greater perspective, namely from sequels coming around and improving on the formula, come to feel like mistakes, or it at least feeling like certain elements feel dated because of the various quality-of-life improvements and greater refinement those elements have been able to be shown with time.

          On this other end, besides sequels being able to cut those bad or unnecessary elements and refine those solid but imperfect elements, they are also able to benefit from hindsight in having what new elements are introduced to excite players being based off that understanding and more likely to be more consistently well-executed, satisfying and exciting than the new elements in the original, which are inescapably a mix.

          Undoubtedly some examples would make this whole case better than exposition, so let’s get into it.

          Rock Band 2 is one of the simpler examples of the case I’ve been making. The original felt perfectly fine for its time, but RB2 expanded the base song list in the game natively as well as providing much greater support for expanding on that content with regular new DLC song packs to download, smartly making these available to buy in smaller doses rather than forcing you to buy an entire album or album’s worth of material, undoubtedly making them greater sales from fans more willing to part with a little spare cash for a song they love regularly while also satisfying fans with that formatting so they never felt obligated to have to spend money on unwanted content. This was a clever encouragement for replay value as well: checking back to see what new songs were added, seeing a handful you really enjoyed and getting excited about whacking out the drumbeats of one of these new options or watching your friend and “bandmate” attempt to do its vocals knowing he’d fail hilariously got you excited to play all over again. Speaking of your bandmates, the greatly improved customization system for the look of your characters and your instruments while performing and being able to use that in collaboration with your friends to come up with a look and feel for the in-game band you created together that you all loved was a really simply but greatly satisfying improvement.

          Now, Rock Band isn’t a series that I do see the original being revered over the sequels with, but I wanted to bring it up to illustrate the point I was making more clearly about how sequels can benefit from the understanding of how the basics of a game concept have been received.

          Now we can turn to a couple case that do more fully deal with the issue I’m talking about. One would be Pokémon. The Red and Blue Versions and the first generation roster of Pokémon are often held up as highlights of the series, not just by fans, but even in practice by those making the newer games, with new pre-evolutions or evolutions or forms for that generation’s Pokémon being implemented in the sequels that have occurred since in far greater numbers and with far greater regularity than any other generation. Yet...those games and that roster actually represent some of the weakest the series has had to offer. With the games more generally, the region design wasn’t particularly interesting in retrospect, there wasn’t much of a story to speak of, the battle mechanics - while not bad for their time - have been greatly outclassed by the later changes made to it, the representation of types was poorly handled in some cases - the one Ghost type line seeming weak to the Psychic types they were on paper supposed to be strong against or Dragon types seeming weaker to Ice than they were because of their only lines final form being extra weak to it, for example, and an extremely limited post-game involving one small new area to explore and one new Legendary Pokémon to catch. The biggest problem with that roster I already mentioned in the mishandling of the type distribution across the different lines in the games, but beyond that is just the simpler facts that subsequent generations have had more interesting designs, better typings and more interesting evolutions methods to attain them.

          With almost every single specific element of those original games, putting aside the new features not introduced until later, we can find a sequel generation in that series which did it better: every generation except the fourth has had better region design, third and fifth had excellent world stories while the new eighth generation tells an excellent Gym Challenge-related story, second through fourth - with arguments to be made for others - made needed improvements on the core battle mechanics, basically every subsequent generation has had better type distributions across the new roster, and the second and third generations especially had excellent postgame content with revisiting Kanto for the former and the Battle Frontier for the latter greatly expanding the time you wanted to play beyond the Championship.

          All of this, understand, isn’t to say the first generation of games or their roster of new Pokémon were bad, just that in comparison to what has come since, they are far from the pinnacle of what the series stands to offer you and certainly not deserving the infallible status some ascribe to them.

          Now, let’s turn from Nintendo’s flagship franchise to Microsoft’s. With Halo it is considered considerably more contentious than with Pokémon to challenge the original’s superiority. To be fair, Combat Evolved stands the test of time better than Red and Blue versions do for Pokémon. The story’s tone of desperation juxtaposed with Master Chief’s badass capabilities and heroism is a great dynamic, which along with the sense of awe looking around the environments and the sense of exploration and decision on which objectives to approach and how all serve to be strong benchmarks for the series to make it a point to reach, either directly or in some equivalent sense. However, the reuse of multiple levels along with the general monotony of the Library level’s design, overly frail allies with questionable decision making hurting their survivability, often confused multiplayer map design that can complicate efforts to strategize with a team, and the overly centralizing Pistol and Scorpion making use of most other weapons and vehicles moot are all rough points to it.

          Much was made of Halo 2′s more linear level design and cliffhanger ending, and to some extent not having more time to play as the Chief (though this has died for the most part over time) and it has some of its own unique problems, but what we do have makes it my overall favorite in the series: characters in general are more developed, new characters are interesting, the development of the backstory to your enemies is fantastic and remains relatively unique among all games I’ve played, the level variety is great and your objectives often feel more epic and important. The music within the Campaign is some of the best in the series, arguably its overall best, which does matter given its ties for setting the tone to accompany the narrative. With gameplay, the change to destructible vehicles and the ability to board them both looks cool and provides needed balance to their power while boost added onto Covenant vehicles helps differentiate the feel of them from the human vehicles better. Of course, there was also the addition of dual-wielding to note as well. As I’m a more competitive player, this isn’t something I made much use of personally, but it was aesthetically a really cool thing to be able to do and for my less competitive friends who enjoy the series is something they really loved and have missed since it was cut as a staple element from the series’ gameplay, so it certainly secured its place as a beloved element, too. Last, but certainly not least, is easily the best multiplayer map design the series has ever had. Taken together, this made for Halo 2 to be more satisfying overall - and certainly more satisfying long-term - than its predecessor. Other games in the series have also done various elements better than it, or even better than Halo 2 in some cases as well.

          Ditto again on this kind of case when it comes to Sony’s flagship franchise in God of War as well, which notably goes out of its way more than any of the other series I’ve mentioned to not be beholden to the original as anything sacred and a baseline off which to model itself. The results here are telling: with greater character development and a more emotionally-driven story than anyone ever would have expected, a simultaneously more complex and more refined combat system, a satisfying upgrade system, revamped mission structure and much more, it has all the perfect ingredients to not just make it an excellent entry in that series, but the best yet, in spite of being the fifth. If a mentality of “the original is the best” had been held and it had been developed from that perspective, fans of the series and those the newest just drew in all would be devoid of this gem as it is, however.

          There are of course other series - many more - to which illustrate my case, but I’ll consider these flagship franchises by the Big Three sufficient to make my case as is. Undoubtedly, you can think of other examples yourself. What all of these go to show is in actuality a relatively simple truth: sequels are often, if we are objective about their qualities, better than the originals and deserve to be respected as such. Being the first doesn’t inherently make something the best; that is only a status we’ve arbitrarily applied to how we approach thinking of games, or perhaps entertainment more broadly. Failing to take an honest look at how well sequels do on these different elements and the impact that has on their overall quality not only negatively impacts the individual gamer, who is preventing themselves from enjoying their games more, but also negatively impacts gaming culture, as it sends the message to developers that stagnation in the further work they do is not only acceptable, but to be encouraged.

          When they aren’t encouraged to try bold new ideas they think could improve the formula for what a series stands to offer and instead play it safe, we are denied who knows how many exciting gaming moments we could have otherwise enjoyed, instead left with something akin to the original, but feeling more like a cheap imitation than a true sequel. In this way, that “original is best’ mentality becomes self-fulfilling prophesy, as we inadvertently encourage the very kind of lackluster experiences with sequels that can make the original seem like the best an IP can give us. I think we have a duty as gamers to take a step back more and instead of just being critical of games, also consider being critical of our thought process for how we approach looking at them for this kind of behavior and to rectify that when we find it within ourselves, for the sake of our own happiness and that of the gaming community.

          So, the next time you find yourself thinking “the original is best,” look deeper. Maybe it really is. But maybe, just maybe, you’ll be surprised what you find.

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          Thanks for reading! If you enjoy my content, please consider liking, commenting, following and especially reblogging so it can reach more people. Any support you show is greatly appreciated.

[maverick-werewolf]

Random Werewolf Fact #43 - Where Were the Werewolf Hybrids?

So maybe you’ve heard about this concept before: werewolf-vampire hybrids. Things that are both werewolf and vampire. Sound familiar? Yes? No? Let’s talk about them a little, either way.

You might know them as various names - or, really, you might not, because there is no actual name for them. Most people just use werewolf-vampire hybrid. When I was growing up, there was this game called Adventure Quest (I have no idea if it’s still a thing), which used the word “werepyre.”

(Kinda neat though, overall. Definitely cooler than at least 85% of Hollywood werewolves.)

But werepyre is a terrible word, let’s not use it, please. Like, what does that even mean? It means nothing. “Were” means “man” and “pyre” comes from vampire, the etymology of which is itself largely unknown (but many arguments and speculations exist; I won’t be going into all that in this post, but keep an eye out for it in the future!), so werepyre means man-something. There’s no “wolf” there and there’s not really any vampire there. What an ugly, meaningless word.

Anyway, sidetracked. Are werewolf-vampire hybrids a thing in folklore?

The answer is: No. Absolutely, positively no.

The closest we get to anything associated with both werewolves and vampires is the vrykolakas, which I covered in another post. And they are by no means “hybrids.”

So how about werewolf-vampire hybrids? What’s up with them, anyway?

Well, me, I don’t really know. They’re fairly popular in pop culture today, like in the Underworld series (my opinions of which are oft-lamented, and I try not to repeat too much to avoid upsetting those who enjoy them), even though that one was just some kind of weird blue dude who seemed to have nothing in common with vampires and definitely absolutely nothing remotely in common with werewolves... Not that the werewolves, excuse me, “lycans” in the Underworld series were even remotely intimidating at any point, anyway, except maybe a little in that prequel one but only when they were hordes again of course--

Ah. Where was I?

I used to see ads for browser-based games with werewolf-vampire hybrids all the time, like Adventure Quest, and some thing with blood in the name that I briefly played; I forget. There were a lot popping up back then. It was pretty wild.

So what do these 100% pop culture creatures usually look like, though?

Well, that varies a lot. Like I said, in Underworld, it’s some weird guy that basically has nothing in common with a werewolf whatsoever, no matter what kind of hybrid it is. Then you have the ones that are pretty much just werewolves with wings and sometimes extra large teeth, but a lot of werewolves have big teeth anyway, so that’s kind of moot.

What I wanna know is do they still have to just drink blood if they’re also part werewolf? Because they’re giant flesh-rending monsters, are they still going to be dainty and just want blood? Why not just eat people instead? That’d be a lot easier.

(side-note: these are purposefully rhetorical questions for the purpose of good-natured satire)

Anyway, there it is, though! They weren’t a thing. I personally don’t often like them, but I am also very willing to like them if someone does them right. I admit I think it might be fun if done well, but at the end of the day, I’d rather just have a werewolf and a vampire than something trying to be both, since they’re both awesome in their own ways. That’s just personal preference! Whatever totes your goats.

Oh and by the way, if you were wondering about any other werewolf hybrids? That’s also a nope.

Werewolves are werewolves, as far as folklore is concerned. And I can personally appreciate that, since it gives them a lot more oomph.

In other news, too - sorry for the relatively short fact this week, after such a long wait. I’ve not been well lately. I have lots more facts in store for you, though, and I’m excited about quite a few of them!

(If you like my werewolf blog, be sure to check out my other stuff! And please consider supporting me on Patreon; every little bit helps!

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[hope-for-olicity]

I have been thinking, like so many people this week, about rage. Who I’m mad at, what that anger’s good for, how what makes me maddest is the way the madness has long gone unrespected, even by those who have relied on it for their gains.

For as long as I have been a cogent adult, and actually before that, I have watched people devote their lives, their furious energies, to fighting against the steady, merciless, punitive erosion of reproductive rights. And I have watched as politicians — not just on the right, but members of my own party — and the writers and pundits who cover them, treat reproductive rights and justice advocates as if they were fantasists enacting dystopian fiction.

This week, the most aggressive abortion bans since Roe v. Wade swept through states, explicitly designed to challenge and ultimately reverse Roe at the Supreme Court level. With them has come the dawning of a broad realization — a clear, bright, detailed vision of what’s at stake, and what’s ahead. (If not, yet, full comprehension of the harm that has already been done).

As it comes into view, I am of course livid at the Republican Party that has been working toward this for decades. These right-wing ghouls — who fulminate idiotically about how women could still be allowed to get abortions before they know they are pregnant (Alabama’s Clyde Chambliss) or try to legislate the medically impossible removal of ectopic pregnancy and reimplantation into the uterus (Ohio’s John Becker) — are the stuff of unimaginably gothic horror. Ever since Roe was decided in 1973, conservatives have been laboring to roll back abortion access, with absolutely zero knowlege of or interest in how reproduction works. And all the while, those who have been trying to sound the alarm have been shooed off as silly hysterics.

Which is why I am almost as mad at many on the left, theoretically on the side of reproductive rights and justice, who have refused, somehow, to see this coming or act aggressively to forestall it. I have no small amount of rage stored for those in the Democratic Party who have relied on the engaged fury of voters committed to reproductive autonomy to elect them, at the same time that they have treated the efforts of activists trying to stave off this future as inconvenient irritants.

This includes, of course, the Democrats (notably Joe Biden) who long supported the Hyde Amendment, the legislative rider that has barred the use of federal insurance programs from paying for abortion, making reproductive health care inaccessible to poor women since 1976. During health-care reform, Barack Obama referred to Hyde as a “tradition” and questions of abortion access as “a distraction.” I’ve spent my life listening to Democrats call abortion a niche issue — and worse, one that is somehow repellent to voters, even though support for Roe is in fact among the most broadly popular positions of the Democratic Party; seven in ten Americans want abortion to remain legal, even in conservative states.

You can try to tell these Democrats this — lots of people have been trying to tell them for a while now — but it won’t matter; they will only explain to you (a furious person) that they (calm, wise, knowledgeable about politics) understand that we need a big tent and can’t have a litmus test and please be reasonable: we shouldn’t shut anyone out because of a difference on one issue. (That one issue that we shouldn’t shut people out because of is always abortion). Every single time Democrats come up with a new strategy to win purple and red areas, it is the same strategy: hey, let’s jettison abortion! (If you object to this, you will be told you are standing in the way of the greater progressive project).

I grew up in Pennsylvania, governed by anti-abortion Democrat Bob Casey Sr.; his son Bob Jr. is Pennsylvania’s senior senator now, and though he’s getting better on abortion, Jr. voted, in 2015 and 2018, for 20-week abortion bans. Maybe my rage stems from being raised with this particularly grim perspective on Democratic politics: dynasties of white men united in their dedication to restricting women’s bodily autonomy, but they’re Democrats so who else are you going to vote for? Which reminds me of Dan Lipinski, the virulently anti-abortion Democratic congressman — whose anti-abortion dad held his seat before him. The current DCCC leader, Cheri Bustos, is holding a big-dollar fundraiser for Lipinski’s reelection campaign, even though it’s 2019 and abortion is being banned and providers threatened with more jail time than rapists and there is someone else to vote for: Lipinski is being challenged in a primary by pro-choice progressive Democrat Marie Newman. And still, Bustos, a powerful woman and Democratic leader, is helping anti-choice Lipinski keep his seat for an eighth term. So I’ve been thinking about that part of my anger too.

Also about how, for years, I’ve listened to Democratic politicians distance themselves from abortion by calling it tragic and insisting it should be rare, instead of simply acknowledging it to be a crucial, legal cornerstone of comprehensive health care for women, people with uteruses, and their families. I have seethed as generations of Democrats have argued that if we could just get past abortion and focus instead on economic issues, we’d be better off. They never seem to get that abortion is an economic issue, and that what they think of as economic issues — from wages and health care to housing and education policy — are at the very heart of the reproductive justice movement, which understands access to abortion to be one (pivotal!) part of a far broader set of circumstances that determine if, when, under what circumstances, and with what resources human beings might have and raise children.

And no, of course it’s not just Democrats I’m mad at. It’s the pundits who approach abortion law as armchair coaches. I can’t do better in my fury on this front than the legal writer Scott Lemieux, who in 2007 wrote ablistering rundown of all the legal and political wags, including Ben Wittes and Jeffrey Rosen and Richard Cohen and William Saletan, then making arguments, some too cute by half, about how Roe was ultimately bad for abortion rights and for Democrats. Some like to cite an oft-distorted opinion put forth by Ruth Bader Ginsburg, who has said that she wished the basis on which Roe was decided had included a more robust defense of women’s equality. Retroactive strategic chin-stroking about Roe is mostly moot, given the decades of intervening cases and that the fight against abortion is not about process but about the conviction that women should not control their own reproduction. It is also true that Ginsburg has been doing the work of aggressively defending reproductive rights for decades, while these pundits have treated them as a parlor game. As Lemieux put it then, it was unsurprising, “given the extent to which affluent men safely ensconced in liberal urban centers dominate the liberal pundit class,” that the arguments put forth, “greatly understate or ignore the stark class and geographic inequites in abortion access that would inevitably manifest themselves in a post-Roe world.”

Or, for that matter, that had already manifested themselves in a Roe world.

Because long before these new bans — which will meet years of legal challenge before they are enacted — abortion had grown ever less accessible to segments of America, though not the segments that the affluent men (and women) who write about and practice politics tend to emerge from. But yes, thanks to Hyde and the TRAP laws and the closed clinics and the long travel distances and paucity of providers and the economically untenable waiting periods, legions of women have already suffered, died, had children against their will, while columnists and political consultants have bantered about the necessity of Roe, and litmus tests and big tents. In vast portions of this country, Roe might as well not exist already.

And still those who are mad about, have been driven mad by, these injustices have been told that their fury is baseless, fictional, made of chewing gum and recycled copies of Our Bodies Ourselves. Last summer, the day before Anthony Kennedy announced his resignation from the Supreme Court, CNN host Brian Stelter tweeted, in response to a liberal activist, “We are not ‘a few steps from The Handmaids’ Tale.’ I don’t think this kind of fear-mongering helps anybody.” When protesters shouted at Brett Kavanaugh’s confirmation hearings a few weeks later, knowing full well what was about to happen and what it portended for Roe, Senator Ben Sasse condescended and lied to them, claiming that there have been “screaming protesters saying ‘women are going to die’ at every hearing for decades” and suggesting that this response was a form of “hysteria.”

It was the kind of dishonesty — issued from on high, from one of those Republicans who has inexplicably earned a reputation for being “reasonable” and “smart,” and who has enormous power over our future — that makes you want to pull the hair from your head and go screaming through the streets except someone would just tell you you were being hysterical.

And so here we are, the thing is happening and no one can pretend otherwise; it is not a game or a drill and those for whom the consequences — long real for millions whose warnings and peril have gone unheeded — are only now coming into focus want to know: what can be done?

First, never again let anyone tell you that the fury or determination to fight on this account is invalid, inappropriate, or inconvenient to a broader message. Consider that this is also what women and marginalized people are told all the time about their anger in general: that they should not express it, not let it out, because to give voice to their rage will distract from their aims, undermine them; that it will ultimately be bad for them. This messaging is strategic. It is designed to get angry people to keep their mouths shut. Because if they are successfully stifled, they will remain at the margins, isolated, alone in their fury. It is only if they start letting it out and acting on it and working in tandem with others who share their outrage that they might begin to form networks, coalitions, the building blocks of movements; it is when the anger is let loose that the organizing happens in earnest.

Second, seek the organizing that is already underway. In the days since this new round of state abortion bans have begun to pass and make headlines, secret Facebook groups have begun to form, in which freshly furious women have begun to talk of forming networks that would help patients evade barriers to access. Yet these organizations already exist, are founded and run by women of color, have long been transporting those in need of reproductive care to the facilities where they can get it; they are woefully underfunded. The trick is not to start something new, but to join forces with those who have long been angry about reproductive injustice.

“Abortion funds have been sounding the alarm for decades,” said Yamani Hernandez, who runs the National Network or Abortion Funds, which includes 76 local funds in 41 states, each of them helping women who face barriers getting the abortion care they need, offering money, transportation, housing, and help with logistics. Only 29 of the funds have paid staff; the rest are volunteer-run and led with average budget sizes of $75,000, according to Hernandez, who said that in 2017, 150,000 people called abortion funds for help — a number up from 100,000 in 2015, thanks to the barrage of restrictions that have made it so much harder for so many more people. With just $4 million to work with, the funds were able to help 29,000 of them last year: giving abortion funds money and time will directly help people who need it. Distinguishing the work of abortion funds from the policy fights in state houses and at the capitols, Hernandez said, “whatever happens in Washington, and changes in the future, women need to get care today.”

And whatever comes next, she said, it’s the people who have been doing this work for years who are likely to be best prepared to deal with the harm inflicted, which is a good place for the newly enraged to start. “If and when Roe is abolished,” said Hernandez, “the people who are going to be getting people to the care they need are those who have largely been navigating this already and are already well suited for the logistical challenges.”

The fights on the ground might be the most current and urgent in human terms, but there is also energy to be put into policy fights. In 2015, California Congresswoman Barbara Lee authored the EACH Woman Act, the first serious congressional challenge to the Hyde Amendment, which came after years of agitation and activism, especially by All Above All, a grassroots organization led by women of color and determined to make abortion accessible to everyone. Those who are looking for policy fights to lean into can call and write your representatives and candidates and demand that they support the EACH Woman Act.

Rage works. It takes time and numbers and a willingness to express it, but it is among the most reliable catalysts of social and political change. That’s the story of how grassroots activism can compel Barbara Lee to compel her caucus to take on Hyde. Her willingness to tackle it, and the righteous outrage of those who are driven to end the harm it does to poor women and women of color, in turn helped to compel Hillary Clinton to come out against Hyde in her 2016 primary campaign; opposition to Hyde is now — for the first time since it was passed in 1976 — a part of the Democratic Party’s platform.

In these past two years, fury at a Trump administration and at the Republican Party has driven electoral activism. And at the end of 2018, the Guttmacher Institute reported that 2018 was the first year since at least 2000 in which the number of state policies enacted to expand or protectabortion rights and access, and contraceptive access, outnumbered the number of state restrictions. Why? Because growing realization of what was at stake — and resulting anger and activism, pressure applied to state legislatures — led representatives to act.

Of course: vote.

Vote, as they say, as if your life depended on it, because it does, but more importantly: other people’s lives depend on it. And between voting, consider where to aim your anger in ways that will influence election outcomes: educate yourself about local races and policy proposals, as well as the history of the reproductive rights and reproductive-justice movements. Get engaged not just on a presidential level — please God, not just at a presidential level — but with the fights for state legislative power, in congressional and senate elections, all of which shape abortion policy and the judiciary, and the voting rights on which every other kind of freedom hinges. Knock doors, register voters, give to and volunteer with the organizations that are working to fightvoter suppression and redistricting and expand the electorate; as well as to those recruiting and training progressive candidates, especially women and women of color, especially young and first-time candidates, to run for elected office.

You can also protest, go to rallies. Join a local political group where your rage will likely be shared with others.

Above all, do not let defeat or despair take you, and do not let anyone tell you that your anger is misplaced or silly or in vain, or that it is anything other than urgent and motivating. It may be terrifying — it is terrifying. But this — the fury and the fight it must fuel — is going to last the rest of our lives and we must get comfortable using our rage as central to the work ahead.

[everydayanth]

22 July Film...

So I watched the Netflix movie last night, and I have a few thoughts.  

Warning: This turned into a personal rant with some anthropology-thoughts thrown in. TL;DR: I think this is an important example of the kinds of stories we need, and the debate about the representation of the terrorist on-screen as an ethical one seems to me a moot point.

Second warning: SPOILERS (kinda, vague ones)

I would love to see the Norwegian Utøya - 22 Juli (U- July 22) and do a better comparison of the perspectives. Both films were released in 2018, one by Norwegian director Erik Poppe, the other by English director Paul Greengrass. But that’s for later... after I’ve recovered a bit lol.  

Culture is an interesting thing, and so many of the critiques and comparisons of these films involve the ethical question of portraying a terror event and a terrorist him/herself as a story, or on screen at all. 

This was interesting to me, because the intended audiences for each film seemed to be so diverse, one was telling the world of the event, while the other (I have not seen it, so I can’t confirm) seems to be giving Norway an art piece preserving and telling the story of the event to the people who know it and need little context - cultural or otherwise. 

Terror and disaster are culture shaping and defining. How we respond, how we react, the consequences and the way we tell the story, they are all revealing. And how/why we portray them to ourselves and as outsiders is also revealing.

If this film did one thing perfectly, in my opinion, it was the portrayal of PTSD and the sudden and immediate flashbacks, often sounds, that don’t go away, the isolation and exhaustion that they cause, and the feeling that vulnerability is a weakness you can’t afford. I’m speaking from experience that I’m not ready to elaborate on here, those things are powerful and extremely misunderstood and misrepresented in American culture. PTSD is often used as a MacGuffin, a simple plot device that causes chaos or explains some rash and nonsensical choice, and is often reserved for stories about soldiers returning from war (thanks Hemingway), but sorely left out of conversations about rape, or abuse, or bombings, or terror attacks or any other trauma we go through (then again... so is the representation of those stories). 

It was so hard for me to watch, and I had to fast forward through a few parts, I didn’t sleep because of my own triggers and whatnot, but looking at it from what I would consider an “average” perspective, of people who haven’t witnessed or experienced something so traumatic, it puts viewers in a position they are forced to empathize with. And I think that is a valuable and powerful cultural perspective. 

How did human empathy get tied in with a connotation of weakness? This film challenges that cultural assumption, it asks us to consider: how did emotion and fear become synonymous with coward? How did we twist the world so that victims become responsible and personal forgiveness is a sin?

Maybe I pulled more questions from the film because of my personal experience, relating or overcoming my own challenges - it was something of a challenge to push play and it sat on pause for nearly an hour after the first 20 minutes. The film doesn’t give you answers, but it does seem to provide a safe place for asking questions as our primary protagonist, Viljar, learns to cope. We, the audience, are, if we allow ourselves to be, challenged with an unspoken question: have you chosen to live? Have you chosen hope? Or are you angry all the time, are you defeated and nihilistic, are you passive and apathetic, do you want to ignore and run away and hide in fear? Have you taken steps forward to face your life and made a conscious decision to live it lately?

And that was hard for me to hear because it’s what I’ve been working on, on living consciously and making choices consciously and forming thoughts and opinions and understanding my own values, and not living in my head where everyone else is more right, more valid, more everything; where I dismiss myself and my experiences because of what they are. I’m still working on coming to terms with a lot of things, Jake divides it between acknowledgement, acceptance, and growth or adaption. 

I’ve acknowledged the things that happened, [SPOILERS] and I think that’s what Viljar does on the snowmobile. I’ve accepted the things that happened as beyond my control, I think that’s what Viljar does by deciding to appear in court, what his father does by encouraging him, and what his mother does by... well, personally I think she does this when he tells her to win the campaign for mayor, she decides then to carry on and try her best to reassure them and fight with her boys, not for them (the younger brother could have used a bit more character, but I get it). And then, for me, I’m struggling with the adaption, and we see Viljar struggle, constantly: physically, emotionally, mentally, it is his speech that tells us the truth - he is going to keep struggling, but he is ready to adapt to that, to grow from it, to choose to be vulnerable and depend on his friends and family, to reach out to them and to try, to understand himself and how this event has impacted him so that he can continue to live a life he values. 

This is where I, and I think a lot of people, get stuck, and why I think this film had to feature the terrorist, though I do understand the ethical fears of giving a terrorist a platform by featuring them. But this was a real event, and by giving the guy a face and a story, we see how it juxtaposes Viljar’s growth, how the terrorist did not grow or learn from his fears or struggles, how he isolated himself and what that intentional ignorance does to a person. If we do not grow from our trauma, if we do not adapt to the ways it has impacted us, like in Viljar’s speech, how he acknowledges that he pulled away from his family and friends, he avoided Lara’s calls for weeks, but he’s ready to understand that he is different now, and that’s okay.

We tend to leave this out of our stories in America, and probably other places as well. We end with the happily ever after when the physical body is saved and we rarely go into details about the mental or emotional journey that is yet to start. We can perceive it in films, we can write tumblr posts about Tony Stark’s PTSD and Steve Rogers’ issues, we can transpose ourselves onto these characters, which makes them so universal, but we do not see them specifically address or combat these problems. We do not see Captain America lamenting a world he knew or the confusion and trauma that would result from such a drastic transition, we do not see the Hulk’s loss of identity plague him as anything more than a good one-liner (okay, this one is a bit more debatable). These are good films, and they have limitations they have to work with - source material, fandoms, broader story archs, time limits, etc. But the mental health journey is nearly always left to subtext at best. 

Of course we struggle to understand our mental health in context in America, our stories don’t remind us of the importance of responsible emotion, of the pains of growing that last our whole lives, they don’t tell us about our changing identities as adults, or give us the tools to cope or find help after trauma. There are always exceptions, obviously, but collectively, they seem few and far between. But when they do happen, they stick around for a long time, like Christmas classics It’s a Wonderful Life and Miracle on 34th St. that look at adult growth and development from the primary struggle. Then there are your intentional dives into mental health, diversity, and trauma like, A Beautiful Mind, Good Will Hunting, Rain Man, Room, Charlie Bartlett (a personal favorite, oh, also Gran Torino imo), even The Breakfast Club. 

I think we want stories that teach us how other people get through trauma, so we can learn from them, see ourselves reflected, and grow and adapt to our new identities after something has happened to us. We want to deal with difficult subjects, but to do that, we’re going to have to start talking about personal ethics and consumer responsibility more and more. We can’t dismiss that as classroom conversation or over-analysis or invalid. We’re going to make bad stories, and we’re going to mess up, but at least there will be more variety and we won’t just be repeating the same shallow stories that end as soon as the physical person is in a physical or economically stable place, occasionally a romantically stable one too. 

To encourage directors to look at mental health and tell new stories, we have to support them when they do. We have to watch and then discuss. We can’t just write it off as inherently right or wrong, because our worldviews are so different. People like that terrorist exist in the world, and ignoring it and not representing that social fear in our media does not even attempt to acknowledge the problem. Trauma hurts us and we’re often told to put some pretty tape around our cracked and broken selves and make do. We teeter through life fearing exposure, anxious, depressed, hidden, and we just keep cutting ourselves on all our jagged pieces. 

But films like this say it’s okay to be broken, it’s okay for Lara and his brother to feel the same as Viljar, even if they weren’t shot, it’s okay for them to face their fears in different ways and to be patient and understanding with themselves as they fit all those cracks back together and learn what they can do to glue them and sand them and make themselves whole again. It’s okay for the parents to struggle, to feel inadequate, terrified, and consumed by guilt and fear, and then to grow and gather strength from their own children and learn to be stronger together. 

We have this independent mindset, that to overcome by yourself is stronger, the lone wolf is the awesome badass, but we know, even our stories know, that we require teams. Even the Avengers need each other (getting into Civil War territory here lol). Our YA masterpieces teach us about the power of friendship and teamwork in developing our identities and overcoming pain and trauma. But we still walk around jaded and in pain, we don’t know how to talk or listen to each other, and we get frustrated and angry when others begin to talk about their vulnerabilities. 

But work like this, it gives us an opportunity to understand what we might not have the experience to relate to, it gives us the ability to be empathetic to something we may not be able to completely comprehend. It tells us that it’s okay to hurt, and it shows us that we can still grow, if we so choose, and that the choice we make is what we control. And we get so overwhelmed by our choices these days, there are so many, and yet so few. I think it’s hard for us to remember to choose to grow and reflect and redefine ourselves at all, hard to find the time to even consider our options. But it’s the most important choice we make every day. It defines who we are and we spend so much of our lives ignoring it or building a protective wall around it. 

This was not a perfect film, but it offered perspective in-context and I think it did justice to the trauma, and the resilience and growth required to overcome it, to choose to have hope. And I don’t think it could have done that without also showing us how easy it is to give up and assume we are right, like the terrorist, to assume we know best and can fix the world ourselves with our own walls firmly planted between us and our own identities. 

This film needed an antithesis to prove it’s point, for the same reason The Silence of the Lambs requires a Hannibal Lecter (and, like the greatly respected Anthony Hopkins, the actor, Anders Danielsen Lie, who played the terrorist, is an accomplished and greatly respected Norwegian actor, and that seemed important to me; this was not an opportunity for a new actor, this was an experienced artist telling the dark side of the story). 

We need filmmakers and story tellers to break rules so that we can all adapt and grow as a society. We need to start telling our stories and stop repeating our own folktales and bedtime stories over and over again. They lead us to sweet dreams, but they forget to help us learn how to stay asleep, and how to wake up, determined to live each day. 

We do not need to simply exist, and while existential crises are frickin’ impossible (there’s that personal experience again), and seem to be a massive current social problem, maybe they are not the cause of our lack-of-hope endings and false identities and fake happiness, but rather the result of a society that doesn’t allow itself to be broken, and therefore doesn’t allow itself to grow. 

You’re allowed to fail. You’re allowed to be wrong. You’re allowed to mess up and make mistakes and hurt the people you love. You’re allowed to be hurt and vulnerable in your life. 

And when you’re allowed to be these things, you’re allowed to be forgiven and grow from them, instead of hoarding all your broken pieces where they cut you over and over, or only revealing them to anonymous Tumblr netizens. You are not a static object, you are not made of stone that can only be cutaway, you are human, and flesh grows back. You can grow back. And I try to tell myself these things every day, to step into the world knowing it will hurt, but that I will grow back. 

Viljar has a hard time facing Lara, he doesn’t call her back, but when he meets her before the trial, she forgives him, and because of that allowance to grow, she is able to be persistent and keep being his friend, and he is able to be vulnerable and strong, which translates into his acceptance of help. We need art to tell us that it’s okay to be human, and to stop comparing us to these things that are supposed to be better than us - aliens, superpowers, mutants, super-spies, the wealthy elite, etc. 

And I think we need to focus on more than just romantic relationships, we need parents and friends and siblings and teachers and idols and well, more diverse romances; our stories reflect our values, and if this were a “Hollywood film,” I don’t think it would have done the story justice or let its audience come to its own conclusions. What does that say about us? Do we not give ourselves enough credit? Or do we intentionally misinterpret art that challenges our perceptions of reality, like trauma and relationships and other personal ethics because we find it offensive? Can we even hold others accountable for what offends us? Is there a line there involving accuracy and representation and culture, or is it all subjective?

I don’t know, I’ve just been thinking about all this while I spent all night and morning not-sleeping. So I thought I’d just get it out there where it can float for a while. I thought it was a good film, because it was a good story, and it was a good story because it focused on that elusive symptom of trauma, that nihilistic existential identity that refuses to reform. And because that is the story I am living right now, that is the story I needed to hear. Because we are social learners, like all primates, and if Viljar can choose to live and be vulnerable and strong, then maybe I can do it too. 

This turned into a personal rant more than a review... whoops. But I don’t have context enough to compare the film, I think I would have to see the Norwegian-made one (though the cast and setting were still Norwegian in this one), to really compare, and look at what happened in real life, how the world reacted to that event, and basically do a full lit-review to get an understanding of whether this film was accurate or if its portrayal was “good.” But then I would have to define good, and we all know where that will lead. 

So in my opinion, we need more stories about tragedy that don’t end with the acceptance of others, but the acceptance, acknowledgement, and reformation of self. And this movie followed that whole story, or at least, I think it did, and I appreciate it for that. 

[unkownknowledge]

Hey yall I have a dnd backstory I would like some judgement on from my moots ^-^ imma go to sleep after posting it though so I'll respond in the morning! :D

Tw: domestic abuse

"I was taken from my birth home by a fey known simpy as "the crooked man" to most, and that's all most will know him as from me because I owe him my life for saving me from such a horrendous family.

I spent my days playing in the fey wilds, among the walled fields of the realm Cendeurin, always dreaming of being able to go to the grand ruler's palace at the center of the realm to dance in one of their splendid balls.

One day I got my wish when a kindly elder fey returned a kindness I showed him long ago(I did not know what, I must have been very young)and gave me his finest suit to wear. He also gave to me glass slippers, saying that when I leave the ball one of them will fall off and I will find my true love.

It was to my grand elation that my true love was that of the princess, the most kind and beautiful lass in the land.

Ah how we spent our youth together, dancing and embracing in the warm light.

But I should have figured that, as with much in the fey wilds, it was not as it seemed.

On the twenty second year of our lives we were wed, and all around the realm all rejoiced! But after the ceremony, there was one heart that was cold: my own.

For the princess did not love me, she simply plucked the lowest hanging fruit, the poorest sod of the realm, to garner support from those her family ruled over. She ignored my every need, be it food, water, or even comfort I was denied all but the most basic bread and bowl of hydration.

I could not bear it, so I searched the library of the palace behind her back, searching for a way out. Eventually I found it, a summoning for a god that hadn't been censored by the kings and queens, likely due to his small low ranking among the gods.

It was with this god, Eklotl, and his connection to the cycle of nature that I was granted power to kill the whole royal family, except I could not kill my "wife". Not because I cared for her, oh no years of abuse had removed that entirely, but by ruling of our marriage contract neither of us may kill the other.

So instead, I summoned many venomless scorpions to slowly stab her to death.

Of course, the realm of Cendeurin has always been close to the human realm in spirit, so when the royals died the captains of the guard and generals took over to form an oligarchy. Arguably am Improvement as they atleast don't tax folks into oblivion, but they're still using the hunt for the infamous "crown killer"(how creative of them), which is yours truly. Ah well, no skin off my back. My magic could always use more target practice.