#get us close enough in appearance and the audience can figure it out

[katnissdoesnotfollowback]

How could you translate Katniss' internal thoughts to screen?

If you become the screenwriter for the new adaptation, what would you do?

Are there any movies or tv series which have good example of this type of narration?

Thank you 😊

@curiousnonny

Oh tough question @curiousnonny. I've literally been sitting on this one for at least a year because I've been trying to figure out how the heck I would translate more of her internal thoughts to the screen. I will say this...

I have such mixed feelings about what Gary Ross and company decided to do for the films. I get why they did it, but man did it suck at times. What I mean by that is, they turned Katniss and Peeta into The Watson character. By that, I mean that in the original Sherlock Holmes stories, Watson's role was primarily to ask questions and doubt Sherlock's theories in order to give Sherlock a chance to explain what happened and show off his so called "genius."

Haymitch has to explain certain things about the Games to Katniss and Peeta that, in the books, THEY ALREADY KNOW because they live in this world and are not idiots. And the thing is, the movies showed that the film makers DID grasp the concept of how to show us a little and trust the audience to figure out the rest. Gale's thirty second rant in the woods about "What if everyone just stopped watching... It's sick. You root for your favorites and cry when they die" (paraphrase). Movie!Gale tells us something about the Games that we get from Katniss's internal thoughts in the books. And that is that while the districts hate the Games...they partake in them. Katniss tells us about how people in 12 ENGAGE in the betting. It's become a cultural thing so that even though there are people who know the tributes, even though it might one day be you or your sweetheart or your child in the arena, the Games are STILL treated as a form of entertainment on some level...even in the districts. And Katniss knows this, which the movie shows when she tells Gale "That'll never happen" (another paraphrase).

There's also the odds board that we see very briefly in the Capitol. Now we the audience know, just from those handful of seconds, that there's wagering on the Games, without Katniss telling us. More brief scenes like that would help with the world building.

Which leads me to... it works better as a tv series. It's written by a television writer and the story is blocked and paced like a tv series. And I cannot believe that I am saying this, knowing that it winds up being so hated by so many of the fans by the final season, but Game of Thrones the tv series, at least in the first season, did a phenomenal job of translating an entire book to screen. I've only read one book and watched two seasons, so I cannot speak to later seasons/books, but wow. Just... do THAT with The Hunger Games. The added length of a tv series gives you the advantage of more scenes and less of the book being cut out. You have the luxury of included so many of the characters that got cut from the movies, which all of that will naturally bring more of Katniss's thoughts and feelings, and understanding of her world, to the forefront.

But you can't stop there, you need an actress who, at a rather young age, can tell an entire story in just a few facial expressions to play Katniss. Not to bash Jennifer Lawrence because there were some parts of her portrayal of Katniss that were excellent, but I felt like her acting was hit or miss sometimes, and at others her portrayal suffered because of both the script and the editing. Sorry not sorry. So casting is key to bringing her internal thoughts to life through acting.

From there, I hate to say it, but at some point, you do have to trust your audience to be able to pick up on things. I think you do need to include a few flashbacks, but you can slow roll them. Show us Peeta giving her the bread in flashback then cut back to Katniss on stage looking slightly horrified and confused. Peeta's trying to talk to her on the train, return to the flashback and show his mother hitting him. Let current Katniss show just a flicker of guilt followed by slight annoyance and determination. You can even keep the flashback silent, if you want. Peeta's helping clean up drunk, vomit covered Haymitch and tells Katniss that he doesn't need her help and doesn't want the Capitol attendants. In her train compartment, Katniss shows us the whole thing, starting with her Mom being nonresponsive, an emaciated Prim, a picture of her father on the mantle with the black ribbon over it and a picture of the whole family next to it. Ah yes. Audience can now deduce that Katniss's father is gone and Mom's a wreck, the family is falling apart. Then give us the sound. Katniss pawing through the trash, Mrs. Mellark screaming at her, and the gift of the bread. Your audience is smart enough to take it from there.

You'd have to give us the dandelion part later on, too, but I actually think you could work that in somehow during the arena. Have Katniss find some dandelions after the girl from 8 dies. She can stare at them, cut to the flashback of the day after the bread. K&P share a look and then end it. She sees the dandelion. Prim can mention the bread, causing Katniss to look away from the dandelion, maybe ask how Katniss got it, and then Katniss goes into the woods to gather dandelions for her family to eat. Cut back to Katniss in the arena, confusion playing on her face until she remembers she's on camera and drops the mask back down. There is so much that can be done with one second of emotion that quickly changes to something else in this situation, and while they did manage some of that with Jennifer Lawrence, I don't think they used the technique to its full advantage.

The problem is that the movies were inconsistent with how they handled this problem of translating what Katniss tells us/says to us onto the screen. At times, they spoon fed us too much and did it in the form of spoon feeding information to Katniss and Peeta that they would've already known, making our protagonists look like idiots. At other times, like with the bread flashback, they didn't give us enough, so we don't understand the stakes and the significance of that moment. Fix the inconsistencies, and I actually think they were kind of on the right track with the movies, they just didn't follow through completely or effectively.

[gffa]

TALES OF THE EMPIRE wound up being a mixed bag for me, there was a lot I enjoyed but there was a lot that just felt really unfulfilled. Morgan's episodes were very pretty to look at but I couldn't help thinking--the entire time I was watching, even--that Filoni's not great at creating new characters that can carry entire episodes like this, none of this felt particularly necessary or like it was fulfilling a void that I wanted to know more about. It doesn't help that I still think her arc in live action was badly handled, that if she was meant to be a Nightsister from the beginning, her first episode should have dealt with that, instead of springing it on us later, so when filling in the background of her on Dathomir in TOTE, it brings all that up for me again.

Morgan's first episode was so pretty and it was interesting to potentially get more Dathomir lore (even if it's incredibly thin and I felt it was too close to the "we see others suffering in the galaxy, but we don't want to get our own hands dirty by fighting for other people or getting involved in helping others, btw we're morally better for that :)" trope for me personally) but everything on Corvus just felt superfluous to me and I spent time trying to figure out why I felt that way. If they had done her story this way or that way, would I have enjoyed it more? If they had included this or that, would I have thought it more necessary?

And ultimately I just kept coming back to that I don't really care about Morgan Elsbeth enough that I wanted three animated shorts dedicated to her, when I could have had so many other characters get fleshed out better. I appreciated that they were showing two characters on opposite journeys, that Morgan was falling into the dark step by step, while Barriss was slowly clawing her way out of it, but that's about all that I appreciated of Morgan's story (other than the beautiful animation).

But I'm not sure I feel like Morgan's motivations were all that well planned out. It's clear that she's looking for revenge and trying to find a new family at the same time, but it's not really clear why she's working with the Empire or how she thinks this leads her to her goals. Grievous is the one who murdered her village, how does working with the Empire (as the Separatists were folded into the Empire, too) achieve that goal? Who or what is her revenge focused on? Is it that she just wants the whole galaxy to burn, because if her village burned, so should everyone else? I feel like that's probably what they were going for, but that it could have been more coherently written.

Barriss' episodes hit a lot harder, where I'm glad that she at least got an arc, but I feel like it just missed so many marks, like why even have Vader there, I'm all for gratuitous Anakin cameos, he's my trash can man and I'm always excited to see him, but absolutely nothing was done with him, despite that he was looking Barriss right in the face there. Not even a moment of showing the audience, "Oh, his soul is so far into the dark of fear, hate, and rage that he doesn't even care about her anymore." Just nothing there, like there was no connection at all. How do you go to the lengths of putting Vader in a scene with Barriss and then treat it like there's no history between her and Anakin??? So completely unsatisfying!

And then it's another series where other guest appearances would have made sense--Barriss has a whole unfinished story with Ahsoka and you don't include her here? I'm as tired of Filoni putting Ahsoka in everything as anyone else, but here it would have made sense and would have brought that relationship full circle on-screen, Barriss' betrayal of her and her clawing her way back to the light after all the trauma and hurt, there's so much she and Ahsoka would have between them. And then nothing.

Or Barriss' relationship with Luminara, TCW never really got into how that must have felt for Luminara, to have her student betray the Jedi so profoundly, for her to fall to the dark, there's such a well of potential there and it's just entirely ignored. She mentions Luminara once and it was a lovely mention, but there's no sense of resolution or completion to that arc.

I did enjoy her story with Lyn and I try not to compare what the show wanted to do with what I wanted the show to do, but I couldn't help it. During all those scenes, all I could think was that this could have been so much more powerful and complete if it had focus on Barriss' established relationships and characters I already care about, because a new random Inquisitor is just not going to hold the same weight for me as my pre-investment in Ahsoka and Luminara. (On the other hand, with the way they butchered Luminara in the last season of TCW, maybe I dodged a bullet!)

For all that negativity, though, I really loved that Barriss found herself in being a healer again, that she found the light again. That's all I've wanted for my girl!!!! (That and put a headdress on her, ffs.) I legitimately took in a hard breath when she said, "Then you have one more Jedi to deal with." because Barriss is still working through too much to fully come back to clarity re: the Jedi at that point , but when it really came down to it, when she really saw what the dark side really was, part of her still was a Jedi. And the way she spoke of her time as a Jedi, once she had a clearer, lighter head again, was sweet, I was so surprised that we got that much from her, but I'm so glad because, if nothing else, Barriss herself deserves to be in the light again.

The way she was settled into her own skin by the time she confronted Lyn on the icy planet, the way she genuinely wanted to help her, but wouldn't let her hurt innocent children, the way she could sidestep Lyn's predictable moves and could stop the blade with just a hand held out, she found her path and what she wanted to do, and oh it was so lovely to see Barriss finding herself again. I loved so much that her unshakable compassion did reach Lyn, it was such a satisfying arc for Barriss to reach that place after all the people she'd hurt. I loved so much that Barriss getting back to this place does a lot to remind us that her foundation is a compassionate one, even if she was lost to the dark for awhile.

I just wish that there had been acknowledgement of those she hurt, the people that died because of her, the betrayal she stabbed people in the back with, rather than just "sees the dark side is bad, walks away, finds the light again", which goes back to that this feels like a generic story that's mostly impactful because I'm filling in the gaps myself because I already know Barriss as a character, rather than that it continues the story that was previously told about her.

At the end of the day, I enjoyed it and I recognize that I'm being a little unfair in how I'm saying I wanted this, this, and this, rather than digesting what the show itself wanted to do, but when you're crafting two stories that are specifically about showing us the journey of two characters that originate elsewhere, you're drawing on the stories from those other origins--except TOTE decided to only halfway do that. There's a lot to love in these shorts, the animation was incredible, the voice work was incredible, Barriss' emotional journey was incredible and I'm so thankful that they even gave her any kind of compassionate resolution. But the specter of how much the shorts ignored hangs over it too heavily for me to say that they were anywhere near what they could have been imo.

[hypostatic-oath]

Hydro Archon, Hydro Archon, Don't Cry

I've noticed a pattern with 5star characters in my game - they only come home after I've done their story quest or at least the Archon Quest where they appear. From an in-game perspective it's obviously because it takes me a while to finish the quest and I raise the pity in the meantime, however... from a SAGAU perspective, it's adorable that they only come around after I've spent the time to get to know them better.

Content Warnings: Angst, Furina desperately needs a hug.

SPOILERS FOR 4.2 BELOW

Imagine Furina before the Archon Quest. She's holding it together, like she has been for five hundred years. She's been performing her role so well for so long, yet she feels like she's already gone beyond her limit. She doesn't know how long she can handle doing this for, but she knows she must.

Late at night, she takes a break to catch some air. She's aware that she's still performing - she's alone, but she cannot risk lowering her mask, even before an invisible audience. She takes a deep breath and looks up, and doesn't even feel the tears flowing down her face.

A shimmering light crosses the sky.

Foçalors, it beckons. Come home.

Oh no. Not this. She's not ready, she's not ready! Not tonight. She tells herself she'll answer your summons tomorrow. In truth, she doesn't feel worthy of answering. What if she's not what you expect?

That isn't even a question. She knows she's not what you expect.

She knows you have other Archons - real Archons - among your Vessels. She panics - she doesn't even have a Vision, much less an Archon's authority. There's only so much she can achieve with acting. What would she do when you took her out on the battlefield and she inevitably failed?

Come on... Another shooting star crosses the sky, your voice a faint, ethereal whisper in her ears. I need an Archon team...

It fills her with dread. She can't answer your summons! She absolutely can't! Not only would she disappoint you - because there's no way she wouldn't, surely, she can't imagine a world in which you are not disappointed once you figure out just what she is, a fraud who can't even use Hydro much less be the literal Archon - she'd also jeopardize her only purpose.

She rushes inside, back to her room, closes the shutters and the window and the curtains and almost leaps into bed, placing the covers over herself as if to shield herself from the world.

She can still hear you calling.

The next day, Poisson is struck. The prophecy is in full swing. She's frantic, searching for something, anything that could possibly help. All the while maintaining the façade. At least you seem to have given up.

It's both relieving and heartbreaking.

At night, she doesn't even risk it - her windows are kept shut. She analises every report, and locks her door when she notices that she's crying, the papers she's holding becoming dotted with tears that fall despite her best efforts. She can hear the rain hitting her window, and the downpour has her feeling even more hopeless.

Neuvillette speaks with her in the following morning. If the pressure from you wasn't enough, she now also has to manage to assure the Hydro Dragon Sovereign that she has everything under control. It's funny, how those eyes capable of such gentleness seem to gaze into her without a shred of mercy. Just speaking to him now feels like she's been put on trial, and Furina knows, deep down in her soul, that she is guilty.

He presses. Poisson has fallen. She knows. She also knows she's likely crying, the mask is slipping, but she can't give up. She has no right - no right at all, to sacrifice the lives of every person in Fontaine for the sake of her comfort. She cannot afford to slip up. And that means she cannot trust anyone - not you, and not Neuvillette. So she gathers the little control she can at this time, tells him she knows exactly what she's doing, and dashes out the door.

Wait, Furina!

She barely hears your voice as she runs. "I'm sorry, but I can't answer!" She thinks, as she rushes to the top floor of the Palais Mermonia. She knows she gas no time to lose. She needs to get herself in check, to wipe away her tears, to figure something out. Where had she gone wrong? Five hundred years, searching for a solution. Five hundred years of observing every trial, hoping it'll finally be the one she needs. But nothing.

She has nothing, and Poisson has fallen.

She thought the Traveler - and you, by extension - would be the key. That by judgding them she'd have the "most magnificent trial" that her mirror self spoke of. And yet, at every turn, the blonde outlander had managed to evade being sentenced, or even making the trial as grand as she'd expected. She paces around in her room as she mulls it over. Should she had judged you directly? Could she have done so? That would've been a trial for the ages - the Overseer, brought to justice by the Hydro Archon of Fontaine, for the crime of... what could she even accuse you of? Posessing people's bodies? That had to be illegal - or at least immoral enough to warrant a trial...

She lets her body flop onto the bed, covering her eyes with one arm as she lets out a sigh that despite its overdramatic appearance, is in fact incredibly genuine. She's tired. So tired.

Foçalors, come home.

Furina buries her face beneath one of the pillows. She hopes it'll drown out the sound of your voice. She can't distinguish whether that ache in her chest is from your summons growing more insistent or from how much she needs to cry.

The shooting star turns golden outside the window, and Furina wonders if the fact that someone else intercepted it will be enough to dissuade you. She hopes it is, otherwise, her days are numbered.

No more stars cross the sky that night, and relief washes over her body, in a wave so intense that she once again doesn't notice the tears. She falls asleep like that, and dreams of rising waters.

Furina heads to the Opera Epiclese in the morning. She's not looking forward to seeing Neuvillette, but she prays that there'll be a trial. "Please," she thinks, as she sits down in the throne reserved for the Hydro Archon, observing the stage from on high, "let it be today."

It isn't. Instead of a trial, there is a performance... and though she usually loves them, now is not the time. Worse yet, she's spotted by the crowd as she's getting ready to leave. They're angry, of course they are. The prophecy is true, and what is their Archon doing? Furina performs as best as she can, but this time the audience is completely unreceptive. She doesn't blame them. She'd be angry, too, in their shoes. She knows they're terrified. She's terrified, too.

But what can she do? Her search has turned up empty. She has no powers, not really, none besides the power of persuasion and even that seems to be slipping more and more these days. She cannot reassure her people. Neuvillette no longer trusts her, if he ever did. The water rises every day with no signs of stopping.

"Why, mirror-me? Where am I failing?"

The crowd chases her out of the theater. Neuvillette is nowhere in sight, and even if he were, Furina isn't sure she could call upon him now. The time in which he acted as her shield if gone. Neuvillette is now just another of the many she's disappointed.

It hurts.

With no other choice, she runs - as far as her legs will take her, she dashes away from the crowd, and guilt tells her she's being a coward. That she needs to stand up and reassure the masses, that she needs to do what an Archon would at that time.

The notion feels almost ridiculous. She cannot command her element freely like Barbatos, or raise protections over her city like Morax. She cannot threaten to strike down the unruly like the Shogun, nor does she have Lesser Lord (Lesser Lord! Hah! Even someone known as 'Lesser' is leagues beyond Furina's ability) Kusanali's foresight and wisdom.

So she does what she can do.

Whether it is fate or simply her own feelings of guilt, she finds herself in Poisson, at the base of the Spina di Rosula. The place where all those people - her people - had lost their lives to a disaster she was supposed to prevent.

When the Traveler extends their hand, she doesn't know whether it is a blessing or a curse. She wants to run again - what else can she do? But her pursuers are apparently still giving chase, and the outlander offers her aid. She can feel your presence from within them - every time she's crossed paths with them, as brief as those moments were, you were there. She can tell that the longing in the blonde's eyes is, at least in part, yours.

She's sorry.

She follows the Traveler to the hiding place - someone's home? It seems irrelevant. For a moment, she wonders if she could sue you for invasion of private property. "Oh, what am I thinking? The time for the grand trial is over... and even if it weren't, suing the Overseer for something so trivial would warrant the same result as the first time I challenged the Traveler..."

The Traveler. The outlander whose presence preceeded disaster. They were known for solving it, sure, but she knew that the moment they set foot in Fontaine the prophecy would have already started. Was it their fault, or yours?

Furina still feels like it might be hers.

The Traveler offers help once again. They extend their hand, and the look in their eyes as they ask her to confide in them is so earnest, so genuine. She swars she can hear two sets of voices saying the words - the Traveler's, and yours. It's faint, and gentle, and pained, and carries a yearning she knows she cannot fix.

Through them, you reach for her and she almost breaks. She knows you'll stop reaching once you know the truth.

Furina, please. You can trust us, love. Let me- let us help. People from your world cannot know, but neither of us fit that criteria. Your people will not dissolve, I promise you. I've seen enough worlds to know.

She considers it.

She hears your voice, and considers it. But there is uncertainty in your tone. You're gambling, and she's a good enough actress to know you're not sure yourself. They wouldn't do it, that's your reasoning. Furina doesn't know who 'they' are, but you're placing all your bets on the fact that 'they' would not erase an entire Nation. Who are 'they'? Celestia? If so, she knows for certain that your wager is more optimistic than based on facts. It's not enough - blind optimism is not enough for her to risk it, not even from a being like you. Besides, that is not her choice to make.

She cannot give up. She cannot lower her guard. Not with Neuvillette, not with the Traveler, not with you. The Traveler urges her for a response, reaches out, and she's about to deny them, when the house's walls fall.

Damn it, we needed more time! Furina, I'm so sorry.

She feels your sorrow about at the same time that she feels the spotlight on her.

Neuvillette looks down from his seat as the Chief Justice, and somehow the sliver of pity in his eyes hurts more than the coldness of a few days prior.

She's on trial.

________

She's crying.

She's not even making an effort to conceal it anymore. It's over. The curtains have closed and everything she worked so hard for has crumbled. The people know. Neuvillette knows. You know. Furina makes no effort to hear your voice. She knows you're disappointed.

If she did, perhaps she'd hear how you're screaming at the Traveler to go check on her. If she did, perhaps she'd hear how despite everything, you're reaching out, still. How you wish to hold her tight, as she deserves. She'd perhaps hear your outrage at the thought of her being subjected to the death sentence, she'd hear you trying to tear Neuvillette apart for allowing it, she'd hear you slowly realising that the fact that the sentence is addressed to the Hydro Archon means it's not her who dies.

She doesn't witness your relief.

Instead, it is you who gain an understanding of her thoughts. The Traveler reaches for her, and she can feel you pushing through, but she can't stop performing. Even now, she's still holding it, as much as she can.

You tear through her defenses with more ease than she expected. Furina had, until now, thought of you as detached. She knew you saw the world as a stage, a story for your amusement. Sure, you liked them, but only to the extent that one likes characters in a play, right? You were, as far as she knew, exactly the type of god - or, er, entity? - she emulated. Fickle. Boastful. Using lives as entertainment, watching trials and tribulations like a performance and solving the Nations' troubles like nothing more than a game. She had not expected you to care.

Not about her.

Not after knowing the truth.

You push forward. She knows it's you, and not the Traveler, who's in control. She can feel it, the intensity with which you reach out is the same she felt tugging at her very being every time a star crossed the sky. She knows it's you who's still trying to reach her. Even if she's failed.

Even if she's not capable of being in your Archon Team.

So she sighs, and lets you witness. That is your role, after all, isn't it? An audience of one, watching an interactive play. You haven't given up on her character, even though it's not what you expected. You're not what she expected, either. Funny, she finds herself thinking, you're both more human than anyone realised.

You witness her life. She lets it play out like a film before your eyes, the endless stream of memories of growing hopelessness as she realised that the prophecy was slowly setting itself up and she was not any closer to finding out how to stop it. Now you know - the truth, the whole truth. She has nothing left to lose now, anyway. Everything is lost. She was unmasked. She failed.

You're pushed out of her thoughts after she invites you to take your place on stage. You act in her memory, but this time the Traveler doesn't speak. You barely have time to state your piece - all you manage is an I'm sorry before being forced away. She has nothing more to share. That is enough, she figures, and far more than she ever thought she'd share. She still feels the urge to cry, but part of it is from relief.

After that, she doesn't feel your presence until after the flood.

The prophecy comes and goes and Fontaine is unharmed. The flood lasts no more than minutes, and no one is dissolved. Furina remembers your words - 'they' wouldn't do that. Though she is unsure as to 'their' identity, she is thankful that you were right. The sunlight feels like bliss upon her skin as she steps out of the Opera Epiclese, gentle rays drying the remaining water from the streets and the tears on her cheeks, and for the first time in five hundred years she breathes easy.

"They're still hoping you'll come." A familiar voice pulls her out of her trance. The Traveler, alone, stands behind her. Your presence is nowhere near. They look the same, yet different, without you within. Furina can't quite explain it, but it feels odd after being so used to seeing you within the outlander.

"I'm not an Archon." She answers, a certain bitterness in her voice as she looks down, defeated.

"I don't think they care. I know you need to rest for now, and they don't have enough primos for a ten pull anyways, but... just so you know. They'll keep trying."

Furina doesn't quite know whether that is meant as a warning or as an opportunity presenting itself. They're gone before she can ask. Either way, they're right - she is tired, and she does need rest. Out of instinct, she heads to the Palais Mermonia, but stops herself as she reaches for the door.

"Lady Furina." The gentle, deep voice she knows as belonging to the Iudex pulls her from her thoughts. She doesn't dare look him in the eye. He opens the door for her, but she simply turns away. She cannot face him, not after that trial, not after everything she'd done.

"Thank you, monsieur Neuvillette. But I... I think I'll be going, now."

The now fully restored Hydro Dragon can only watch as Furina walks away. He knows she needs her space right now, but that doesn't stop him from worrying for her. He'll arrange the best apartment he can get for her, and make sure she never lacks for anything. In the meantime, though, he'll just try not to let his emotions get the best of him, lest he causes a downpour to fall upon poor Furina, who definitely does not need rain right now. If there is one thing he knows about humans is that rain does not, for the most part, cheer them up. So he holds it in, promising himself that he'll take a small break for a walk after the aftermath of everything is over, and heads to his office.

There is so much to do...

_________

Three weeks pass. Furina lays on her bed, her window open, the soft breeze bringing the smell of a night that promises rain into the apartment. She is busy, not with work, or with renovations, but with the azure glass sphere that she holds up to the light, examining it under her lamp. A Vision... during all those years, she had never thought she'd receive such a thing, much less after being pushed away from her role as the Archon. She is thankful, yes, for her newfound freedom, and, she supposes, for the fact that she'd gotten to act again. But it still remains that this bauble was completely unexpected.

Power. This little thing can give her power. She's still unsure on how to use it, and it crosses her mind that the Traveler - or you - might know. You owe her, after all, after what she did to help you out with the play... she could feel you trying to strangle the Traveler and Paimon on the astral plane and that was perhaps why she wasn't entirely offended by their remarks. Still, she had made a great effort for that play. It was only fair that at least one of you repays the favor, no?

Furina smiles softly, sighing. She'll have to put up a commission at the Guild tomorrow.

She examines the light reflecting within, and it reminds her of the surface of the sea as seen from underwater. The holder, a silvery ornament not unlike those she's seen worn by Vision-bearers, has a distinct characteristic - four fang-like details that seem to secure the glass in place. Before she can give it more thought, the first pitter patter of raindrops reaches her ears, and she rushes to retrieve the clothes hanging on the line she has in the small balcony of her apartment before they get too wet. She rushes outside, hearing as the rain and wind pick up.

"Damn it, damn it, damn it..." She mutters to herself, quickly shoving the clothes onto a basket, trying to pick them off the line as fast as she can. Behind her, a flash of light illuminates the night sky. "Oh, I am so not in the mood for thunder..."

Furina cringes, hoping the storm is not directly above. Maybe she'll be able to sleep if it's just a faraway rumbling. What she hears, however, is not the booming sound of a storm.

Furina. Come home.

You're still trying. For a moment, she forgets about the heavy rain, and the clothes, and simply looks up at the sky. Blue flashes, one after the other, cross the clouds in rapid succession. Even after everything, you hadn't given up. The Traveler had warned her, but at the time she hadn't been in a stable enough state of mins to even care, still shaken from everything that had happened.

Now, she simply looks up.

"Overseer." She answers. You won't be able to add her to the 'Archon Team'. She knows she's not as powerful as most of your Vessels - hell, she doesn't even know how to use her Vision yet. But you still want her.

You know the truth - the whole truth - and you still want her.

The next star that crosses the sky turns gold, and glows brighter and brighter until it lands in front of her, hovering above the railing on her balcony. It emits a soft, warm light, and Furina reaches for it like she'd reached for her Vision.

Warmth spreads over her body, and it feels like every time she'd looked at the Traveler with you in them, except everything feels more... intense. It's not like she's seeing the filtered bits of you that shine through the cracks in someone else, no. She can feel you directly, and she understands why they call it 'coming home'. It's warm. It's comfortable. And for the first time she can truly, honestly say she doesn't feel alone.

You're happy she's there. Time seems to stop around her, and she finds herself dry and in a field full of stars. If she squints, she can barely make out a form, a swirling swarm of stardust in the vague shape of a person. She reaches a hand out.

You place the cursor over her outstretched hand.

Welcome home, Furina.

[genshinluvr]

Give 'Em a Show

Pairings: Pierro x Isekai'd!Reader (with some Capitano x Isekai'd!reader)

Summary: Pierro fucks you until your vision becomes white when you cum. You're put in a situation where your naked body is on display for others to see. Specifically when you're getting railed by the first Harbinger.

Note: Any [character] x Isekai'd!Reader is part of my "Not What You'd Expect" Various Genshin Men x Isekai'd!Reader one-shot series. These mini-fics are made so every character in the harem can get their screen time without having twenty to thirty people overtaking their spotlight. Some characters (or all characters) can make an appearance in individual character mini-fics. One of my readers on AO3 wanted some more Pierro content, so this is for them ✨❤️ As previously stated in my other smuts, the smuts that I type out do lean toward female!reader/afab!reader. I do use gender-neutral pronouns unless stated otherwise. Minors, DO NOT INTERACT! Anyway, I don't post anywhere else but on Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and on AO3 (Aaliah_exo).

Warnings: Breath play, voyeurism, oral sex (male receiving), deep throating, face fucking, spanking, light BDSM, hair pulling, creampie, cum shot

Word Count: 1.6k

The sound of wet skin slapping against each other echoes in the living room of the abode. There is a blindfold over your eyes, your wrists are bound together, and your legs are spread wide open for everyone to see the first Harbinger hammering his fat cock into your sopping wet heat. You let out small whimpers and gasps, feeling the tip of Pierro’s dick hit the most sensitive spot inside of you repeatedly. 

You try to close your legs, as you can feel eyes staring holes into your naked figure. Other than heat rushing to your face because of your and Pierro’s activity, you know there’s someone else in the room with you and Pierro. The two of you aren’t alone, and you know it. Pierro grabs your neck and pulls you close to his bare chest, and lightly squeezes your neck, restricting your airflow.

“Spread your legs,” Pierro murmurs into your ears, continuing to piston his fat cock in and out of you.

You shake your head. “It’s embarrassing,” you whine, trying to keep the noises to a minimum. Even if you try to keep your voice down, the sound of squelching between your legs while Pierro is jackhammering his dick inside you is loud enough to overtake the sound of your whimpers and gasps. 

You hear Pierro let out an amused chuckle, momentarily pausing his thrusts. You gulp and feel your hands begin to tremble when you hear someone else breathe in the same room as you and Pierro. Pierro reaches for the blindfold around your eyes and pulls it off your face. When your vision clears up, and your eyes adjust to the light in the room, you feel your heart drop in your chest, your body becomes even hotter than it already was, and you nearly faint at what you see in front of you.

In front of you and Pierro are the other men, their wrists tied behind their backs with ropes, their mouths taped shut; they are naked— all of them are naked. All of their cocks are hard, the mushroom tips are red and leaking with pre-cum, and their gazes are locked on your naked body, though their eyes are locked on the area where you and Pierro are connected. 

Itto growls, thrashing against the binding around his wrist, only to fail. Capitano emerges from the shadows and chuckles at Itto’s futile attempt to get out of the binding. The men’s pupils are blown wide to the point where it almost covers their irises. They look like they’re close to snapping.

“Why don’t you give your audience a little show,” Pierro says, the tip of his nose pressing up against your cheeks as he begins to thrust his hips up against yours slowly. 

His cock slides in and out of your entrance, making you squeeze your eyes shut and shake your head while hiding your face behind your tied wrists. There’s no way you can look at the men in the eyes after today; there’s no way at all. Sure they’ve seen you naked before, but all at once while you’re getting impaled on Pierro’s fat cock? No way.

Pierro raises his eyebrows at you. “Oh? And why is that? I’m sure they’ll appreciate it,” Pierro looks over at the men and smirks.

“It’s embarrassing,” you whisper.

Pierro smirks and leans back on the couch, his back pressing up against the cushions, and holds both of your thighs firmly, his hands squeezing the plush of your thighs. “Well, if you can’t do it, then it looks like I’ll have to do the heavy lifting,” Pierro says gruffly.

Pierro spreads your legs wide open for everyone in the room to see; your sopping wet hole, stuffed by Pierro’s cock, occasionally tightening around Pierro’s throbbing cock. You let out a loud squeal when Pierro suddenly pistons his cock up inside of your entrance. Pierro groans, and his head falls back on the couch, his eyes rolling to the back of his head when he feels your spongey walls tighten around his cock.

With one hand, he snakes his right arm up across your chest and grips your left shoulder, pulling you down on his dick until he’s completely buried deep inside your entrance. Pierro thrust up, pressing the tip of his cock against your cervix. You clench your jaws and dig your nails into the palm of your hands, and a strained grunt and whimper tumble out from your lips. Childe growls and tries to break out from the thick ropes wrapped around his wrists, only to give himself a rope burn.

You feel like Pierro is going to rip you in half. Pierro presses his lips against your shoulder blades and begins to press kisses to your neck. This is the only time he’ll be gentle with you during a time like this. Capitano walks to you and Pierro; he stops in front of you and grabs a handful of your hair, pulling your head back and making you look up at him.

You see Capitano reach down to his erect cock from the corner of your eyes. You gulp when you see how thick and long his cock is; the tip of his cock is red, and the mushroom tip of his dick is smeared with precum. Capitano taps your lips with the bulbous tip; you slowly open your mouth, and he slides his cock into your mouth. Capitano’s breath gets caught in his throat as he continues to slide his dick into your mouth. You whimper and let out a small gag when Capitano’s cock hits the back of your throat; your eyes become teary, and a single tear rolls down your cheek when your lips touch Capitano’s pubic hairs.

Capitano begins to slide his dick in and out of your mouth, his head lolling back, his grasp tightening on your hair. Pierro pinches your nipples, latching his lips on your neck, and bites down. The feeling of Pierro hammering his cock deep inside of your sopping wet heat and Capitano shoving his erect member into your mouth makes your lower stomach tighten with need. 

While Capitano and Pierro are keeping you busy by drilling their cocks into you, the men are struggling to get out of their confinements. Their cocks are painfully hard; precum is dripping from the slits of the bulbous head of their dick, sliding down the base of their cock and coating their pubic hairs. Being forced to watch you get railed by Capitano and Pierro is pure torture, and it's driving them insane.

The sound of your whimpers, muffled moans, wet skin slapping, and the sound of your entrance sucking in Pierro’s cock eagerly sends a shockwave down to the men’s cock, making it throb even more. You try to close your legs, but your actions earn you a spank on the ass from Pierro. Pierro lifts both of your legs up, pressing them against your chest while plunging his fat cock deep inside you, making sure to press the tip of his dick against your cervix with each deep thrust.

“Oh, fuck!” You gasp loudly; Capitano’s dick slips out your mouth as you arch and writhe in Pierro’s arms. 

Pierro slaps your sopping wet heat, the tip of his fingers hitting your engorged tiny nub. Capitano tightens his grip on your hair and shoves his cock back into your mouth, making you choke on it. Capitano thrusts rigorously in and out of your mouth, chasing after his release. Capitano pulls his cock out from your mouth and strokes his cock in front of your face.

Capitano taps your face. “Open your mouth,” Capitano orders.

You open your mouth and stick your tongue out, struggling to keep your eyes open while Pierro continues to ram his cock inside of you. Capitano groans and a ribbon of hot, creamy cum shoot out from Capitano’s cock and lands on the bottom half of your face and your chest. Capitano scoops up his cum and shoves his fingers into your mouth; you swirl your tongue around Capitano’s fingers, licking and sucking the cum off his fingers. 

Pierro tightens his grip on you and plunges in and out of your entrance, getting close to his release. A tight coil forms in your lower stomach, and your walls begin to convulse and tighten around Pierro’s cock. Your vision suddenly goes white; you hear ringing and Pierro’s faint grunts in your ears as he shoots his cum deep inside you. Your body goes limp, and you slump against Pierro’s chest. When you come to your senses, you realize that the tight rope in your lower stomach has snapped, and you have cummed all over Pierro’s cock.

Pierro pulls his cock out of your hole and opens your legs wide for the audience to see. He reaches down and spreads your folds apart; a mixture of your and Pierro’s cum pools out of your entrance and onto the couch. You’re too fucked out to feel embarrassed about Pierro showing off to the other men. 

Your bleary eyes scan each man’s face; their cocks are painfully red, bobbing up and down with every movement as they try to break out from the ropes holding them down. You know that once the ropes are untied around their wrists and ankles, all of the men will all jump your bones until each of them fills your holes with their cum. You sure did give them a show, and now, they’re ready to begin the encore.

You hear a rope slowly ripping; you look over at Itto and see his biceps bulging. The cord falls to the ground, and Itto rubs his wrists, glaring at Capitano and Pierro. Itto turns to Ayato and unties the rope around Ayato’s wrists. Each man unties the other’s ropes, standing up and letting the rope fall to the ground behind them and stepping out from the rope that once bound their ankles together. It looks like the encore is about to begin and Capitano and Pierro have a front seat to the show while you are the main centerpiece of the entire performance. 

Note: Not sure how I feel about this smut 🤔 I decided to add Capitano into the smut as well because originally, this idea was for Capitano, but it also fits Pierro, and someone on AO3 wanted Pierro content. Therefore I am killing two birds with one stone and making it about Pierro with a pinch of Capitano! Wow, my second smut after a long time! And a third smut coming this Sunday on Christmas! I will be posting a new taglist form when Crave 5 is released :> but for now, no taglist for the first two mini-fics. For my new and returning readers, I ONLY post on my Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and my AO3 (Aaliah_exo)! Nowhere else except Tumblr and AO3!

Read more of my works on my Masterlist | Maybe support me by tipping me on Ko-Fi or by reblogging my fanfics! ^^ I will also be posting exclusive fanfics on Ko-Fi as well very soon! You can also tip me on Tumblr if you'd like as a way to show support! ^^

[watchnrant]

Quake: Veil of Deception

Series Concept:

Quake: Veil of Deception continues from Matthew Rosenberg’s Secret Warriors, centering on Daisy Johnson, aka Quake, as she navigates the complex world of espionage and hidden threats in the wake of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s collapse. The series integrates the events of The Falcon and the Winter Soldier, particularly the Power Broker storyline, while maintaining the mystery of Sharon Carter’s true identity as the Power Broker—known only to the audience.

Premise:

Following the events of The Falcon and the Winter Soldier, Daisy Johnson is drawn into a dangerous new mission when she uncovers a growing black market for advanced weapons and technology, spearheaded by a mysterious figure known only as the Power Broker. Daisy’s investigation takes her to Madripoor, where she must navigate a world of criminals, mercenaries, and rogue operatives. Unbeknownst to Daisy, the Power Broker is Sharon Carter, a former ally whose true motives remain hidden from everyone but the audience.

Plot Outline:

Arc 1: The Shadows of Madripoor

After receiving intelligence from an old S.H.I.E.L.D. contact, Daisy learns of a new threat emerging from Madripoor—a city now under the control of the enigmatic Power Broker. Daisy’s mission is to infiltrate the criminal underworld and gather information about the Power Broker’s operations. However, she’s unaware that the Power Broker is Sharon Carter, who is carefully orchestrating her plans while maintaining her cover as a simple arms dealer.

Throughout this arc, Sharon appears to Daisy as an ally, offering her assistance in navigating the treacherous environment of Madripoor. The audience, however, knows that Sharon is manipulating events from behind the scenes, ensuring that her true identity remains concealed while she uses Daisy to eliminate her rivals and secure her position.

Arc 2: The Broker’s Web

As Daisy delves deeper into the Power Broker’s network, she begins to uncover disturbing evidence of super-soldier experimentation and the illegal trade of S.H.I.E.L.D. technology. Suspicion grows as Daisy notices inconsistencies in Sharon’s behavior and the way events seem to play out to the Power Broker’s advantage. Yet, every time Daisy gets close to uncovering the truth, Sharon skillfully redirects her suspicions elsewhere, maintaining her facade.

Sharon, as the Power Broker, strategically feeds Daisy just enough information to keep her off balance, leading her into conflicts with other criminal organizations in Madripoor. All the while, Sharon’s endgame—control of a new breed of super-soldiers—draws closer to fruition.

Arc 3: Unseen Enemies

Daisy’s investigation uncovers a deeper conspiracy involving the remnants of Hydra and rogue S.H.I.E.L.D. agents working for the Power Broker. The tension between Daisy and Sharon builds, as Sharon’s cover begins to show cracks under the pressure of Daisy’s relentless pursuit of the truth.

In a twist, Bucky Barnes arrives in Madripoor, having been tipped off by an anonymous source (Sharon herself, unbeknownst to him). Bucky’s arrival complicates matters further, as he and Daisy team up to track down the Power Broker, both unaware that the person they are looking for is right under their noses.

The audience is treated to moments where Sharon, under the guise of helping Daisy and Bucky, subtly manipulates events to ensure her plans stay on track. Her duplicity adds tension to every interaction, with the readers aware of the looming revelation that could shatter Daisy and Bucky’s trust.

Arc 4: The Shattered Mask

In the final arc, Daisy closes in on the Power Broker’s operations, forcing Sharon to take increasingly drastic measures to protect her identity. Daisy discovers that the Power Broker’s true objective is not just power, but the creation of a new order where those like her—those with enhanced abilities—are under her control.

As the confrontation draws near, Sharon is forced to confront the possibility that she can no longer keep her identity a secret. The arc culminates in a high-stakes showdown at an old S.H.I.E.L.D. facility in Madripoor, where Daisy, Bucky, and Sharon face off against the Power Broker’s forces.

During the final battle, Daisy comes within a breath of uncovering Sharon’s secret, but Sharon manages to maintain her cover by making a calculated sacrifice—destroying evidence and framing a third party as the Power Broker, leaving her true identity intact for now. The audience is left on edge, knowing that Daisy has been deceived, but also aware that Sharon’s secret is hanging by a thread.

Arc 5: Reflections in the Dark

In the aftermath, Daisy reflects on her mission, troubled by the lingering mysteries and the sense that something is not quite right. Sharon, meanwhile, returns to her dual life, continuing her work as the Power Broker, but now with a heightened awareness of how close she came to being exposed.

The series ends with a promise of future conflict—Daisy is more determined than ever to uncover the truth about the Power Broker, while Sharon, watching from the shadows, knows that her greatest challenge is yet to come. The closing scene hints at a new threat emerging, one that could force Sharon to reveal her true identity or risk everything she has built.

Characters:

Daisy Johnson/Quake: The central protagonist, driven by her sense of justice and her complex feelings about S.H.I.E.L.D.’s legacy. Her journey is one of discovery, both external and internal, as she seeks to uncover the truth about the Power Broker.

Sharon Carter/Power Broker: The secret antagonist, whose true identity as the Power Broker is known only to the audience. Sharon’s dual role adds layers of tension, as she carefully maneuvers to keep her cover intact while pursuing her own goals.

Bucky Barnes/The Winter Soldier: An ally whose involvement complicates the narrative, adding depth and history to the story. Bucky’s presence forces both Daisy and Sharon to confront their pasts.

Supporting Cast: Various characters from the underworld of Madripoor, former S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, and new allies who add to the intrigue and complexity of the story.

Tone and Style:

The series maintains a dark, espionage-driven tone, with a focus on character dynamics and psychological tension. The duality of Sharon Carter’s character, combined with Daisy’s relentless pursuit of justice, creates a narrative rich in suspense and moral ambiguity. The art style would reflect this, with a noir-inspired aesthetic that underscores the shadowy, often deceptive nature of the world in which these characters operate.

[ride-thedragon]

Imagine all the tasty drama we could've enjoyed if we hadn't been so fixated on Rhaenyra and Alicent with their whole "girlboss" saga. Especially in "The Blacks," there was so much potential in delving into the kids' lives.

Take Jace, Luke, Baela, and Rhaena, for instance, each navigating their own conflicts after their parents' hasty marriage following the deaths of Laenor and Laena. Baela and Rhaena could have harbored deep resentment toward Rhaenyra for replacing their beloved mother. Baela might still hold her father, Daemon, in high regard but feel betrayed by his favoritism towards Rhaenyra. The tension of Baela resenting Rhaenyra while loving Jace? Pure gold! Rhaena...isolated from her sister, neglected by her father, and full of loathing for Rhaenyra. Her development could’ve been so much more interesting, showcasing her growth in diplomacy, strategy, and politics. They could have shown us how she risked her life to claim a dragon! (Why does it have to be off-screen?!) Rhaenys and Corlys’ feelings towards the boys could've been so interesting! Did Corlys come to care for them genuinely, or only Luke? Did he view a grandchild or a political piece? How did Jace and Luke feel about their younger brothers, who look like true Targaryens? Did they harbor resentment towards them? The way Jace and Luke view Daemon, their new stepfather, could’ve been interesting too. Luke loses Laenor, and Jace loses not one father figure but two, Laenor and Harwin. And Daemon is so much different from Laenor... Watching Jace start to embrace his Targaryen roots, distancing himself from his Velaryon identity, would’ve been gripping! Did Jace push Luke to do the same, making them both painfully aware of their heritage and appearance? When did Luke start referring to Laenor as "Ser Laenor" instead of "father"? Did they ever feel guilty just for existing, knowing they’d never be enough? Ah, the juicy drama we missed out on!

I, too, wish they cared about the team black faction as a bunch of characters who are different with the same goal. They just don't seem to think any conflict can be allowed or that any character interactions matter past love interests, Daemon and Rhaenyra, which is just incredibly unfortunate.

Jace's anger this season being framed as wrong is so unfortunate because, in all honesty, what has he done that is so wrong? I would've killed to see him trying to bring Corlys into the fold.

None of the kids get to react, and when they do, it's never in a fair light because it can't last long enough before we as the audience forget they are a family, I guess. Season one was a rush to the start line, which I get, but season 2 has been so incredibly lacking. All the greens interact this season, past important relationships, and we see the way they play the game. Alicent and Larys were actively manipulating Aegon. We don't have anything close to that for the team black kids. Although they kinda are throwing Helaena to the wayside, we can still turn her around.

With the blacks, every relationship is strained to no real end because we don't get conflict. We are still left assuming 6 episodes in.

I don't like it at all, and I do think it's one of the bigger issues with the season. A lot of folks say it's boring or nothing is happening, but they took what should've been an introspective and character driven season and made it about the 'main characters'. I hope it pays off, but I'm halfway checked out, watching them rip Rhaena away and trying to mould her into Nettles and Baela.

To next season!

[kitkats-and-kittens]

This post was inspired by lucky lefties district deep dive, so please go watch. I left a similar post in a comment under her video but I wanted to expand on it since I spend an unhealthy amount of time thinking about the career districts.

I’ve seen people online with the opinion that 4 is different from the other Career districts somehow. That they either aren’t prone to sending up volunteers or that their tributes aren’t as cut throat.

I personally hate this theory however I can see why people have come to such a conclusion.

In the books the two district 4 tributes are never named and both die very early on despite having supposedly trained their whole lives to survive this sort of thing. Also I doubt the movie helps as in the films the male district 4 tribute is extremely young and is killed by Cato during the bloodbath.

The girl dies later to the tracker jackers along with Glimmer and I think the impression people form because of that is something must be different about 4. Why else would their tributes be so young and die so early?

In the books Katniss does however, mention that it is strange that the district 4 male died so early on and we know he’s 18 unlike in the films, and it’s not hard to imagine that the girl from 4 was simply unprepared when the nest fell on her like Glimmer.

However, I also think the district 4 Victors we end up meeting only serve to confuse people further. We don’t meet many of the district 4 victors but the ones we do see aren’t exactly what you would expect from a career district. Mags who is extremely old, fragile and kind by the time we come to meet her in catching fire and Annie who is described frequently to have suffered a complete mental collapse during her own games.

They’re not exactly the paragon of strength, intimidation and glory that we associate with Careers like Gloss or Enobaria.

Finnick is definitely the most stereotypical career out of all of them, at least in appearances and stature, but throughout the books we learn that he is incredibly kind and gentle despite what we’re lead to believe spending most of the first few days in the games caring for Mags and ensuring Katniss’ safety by playing up her pregnancy for the Capitol.

It’s hard for us as the audience to really reconcile the fact that 4 is like 1 and 2 because we actually get to know the tributes from their and we learn that they aren’t as one dimensional as we’re lead to believe with the others.

So yes I do believe all 3 were careers. I think Mags probably formed a pack similar to the one we see Coral forming in Tbosas she was probably an earlier example of a career. Meanwhile Annie I believe suffered a similar breakdown to Cato after Clove died.

I don’t like how people assume that just because she was well trained and prepared that she somehow wasn’t still susceptible to trauma. If she was a career then we can assume she grew up close with her partner and like how Cato and Clove had a close relationship. Watching him die so brutally would’ve had an affect on any teenager career or not.

Finnick is definitely the hardest to see being a career ironically enough and that’s simply by virtue of the fact that he was 14 years old when he was reaped.

If the whole point of career tributes is to ensure your district wins and is granted the food and wealth that the Capitol gifts to the victors as a reward then why let a 14 year old child volunteer?

The only reasons I can think of is

1. Either he was some sort of prodigy (though I still find this confusing as wouldn’t waiting for him to turn 18 and sending him up with assurance that he might win not be better than sending a half trained 14 year old and hoping he’ll be the first?)

2. He got unlucky. Maybe the reaping system is employed some years or they don’t always manage to get volunteers, though I find this unlikely it is definitely a possibility.

3. Or (and this is more of a personal theory btw) like 1, 4 tries to play the social game with the Capitol and figured sending an attractive, prodigy 14 year old would stir up interest (and provide Finnick with a good storyline for interviews) while also ensuring lots of sponsorships based on his looks.

I personally believe the third theory though there’s not much evidence so I would take it with several grains of salt.

However even with all that sorted I believe that district 4 does train their tributes in a slightly different way then 1 and 2 however I think this comes more from a place of culture and propaganda than anything else.

Since district 4 runs the fishing industry they obviously have access to the ocean. They’re one of the only districts to do so barring maybe 5 and even then 4 has access on a much larger scale. This is bad for the Capitol.

Of course it’s said that Panem is the only surviving nation from after the world changed but they could easily be lying and either way, having a whole district with the potential to utilise the only bit of the world the Capitol doesn’t and cannot have complete control over if they ever decide to rebel means that district 4 is a threat.

I think that the Capitol places a lot of emphasis on inter personal relationships in the district, I also believe that like 11 they are probably heavily monitored, especially on the ocean and that whippings, beatings and executions are probably commonplace as the Capitol wants to discourage any attempts at escape.

I think district 4 has a very close knit community, and that the Captiol does everything it can to tie them to their homeland, establishing roots and connections that mean many people in district 4 don’t want to leave their home.

However I think this is also a double entendre because the close sense of community between district 4 citizens means that they get especially frustrated when their children die in the games and while I’m not saying that the other districts don’t care about their kids as much, something we see, at least in district 12, is a very defeatist attitude towards the games. The kids reaped there have given up before they’ve even made it into the arena and I imagine it’s similar with a lot of the other poorer districts, just accepting their grim reality and not bothering to try and fight. It’s implied in catching fire that 4 outright rebels and on Katniss’ victory tour she describes them as one of the districts angry at the Capitol. I believe this is because the strong emphasis on community bonds and connections means that the citizens in district 4 don’t take the abuse lying down so much as other districts like 12.

This is why I also believe the district 4 focuses primarily on survival when training volunteers. And I don’t mean survival techniques like how to start a fire or stop an infection because I don’t think the Capitol would allow those types of skills to be taught, but I think district 4 basically teaches their tributes to do anything they can to make it home.

We see it with Coral in Tbosas movie where she breaks down sobbing about how all her kills couldn’t have been for nothing. I think this feeling of doing what you have to to make it home ends up being a driving factor behind their teachings.

They’re taught to put morals aside and that even if they’re in an alliance the only one safe to trust is their own partner. Maybe they’re also taught to use whatever they can to endear them to the Capitol, whether that be their looks or their skills in the arena.

So while they’re equally as indoctrinated as 1 and 2 I believe that a lot of their training is focused on doing whatever they need to in order to live.

[kynimdraws]

Top lane diff standoff TFW my obsession with an au pairing spills over to the main Runeterra hc-verse despite these characters not having actual interaction voicelines LOL

If you actually wanna read about this hc of Yone and K'sante meeting please read the TL;DR under the cut

The defeat of the Cobra-Lion and his meetup with Tope (in "Everything We Should Have Said") closed an important chapter in K'sante's life. Despite this, he still desires to further improve himself as Nazumah's greatest warrior-hunter. After all, he always is open for learning.

His brief conversations with nomadic tribes/merchants that pass through Nazumah and tales of the wandering Icathian weaponmaster (Jax) motivates him. With the blessing of the leaders of his homeland, he sets out on his journey.

He travels past the familiar sands/oases of the desert and the fringes of the remains of Icathia. This is how he meets other champion characters like Jax, Sivir, Akshan, and specifically Taliyah.

Taliyah tells about her mentor Yasuo, who had hailed from a distant land called Ionia and had recently separated from him. K'sante had been fairly directionless with his travels, so this suggestion is taken to heart.

This journey to Ionia of course was very fruitful as he sees other lands and their cultures. He passes through the dense forests of Ixtal (Rengar), the technological marvels of Piltover/Zaun (Jayce, Camille), the wild streets of Bilgewater (Nilah)…and finally Ionia.

K'sante luckily is able to get audience with Sett by just boldly participating in his fighting pit just a few days after reaching Navori. The two strike a friendship after their fight ends in a tie (K'sante still thinks Sett is an immature boy but that's another conversation). After hearing K'sante's purpose of his trip, Sett suggests visiting the Ionian temples/monasteries, the centers of martial arts.

It is a given that through this entire trip, K'sante always stops to help anyone that is in trouble. His trek in Ionia doesn't change any of this, but he does notice that some of the things he is fighting are more…spiritual/ephemeral, a contrast to the more physical monsters/vagabonds he has known for so long. Due to the Shuriman Empire's history of rejecting spiritual beliefs, Nazumah was still slowly trying to regain that school of thought. K'sante cherishes this oppurtunity.

In one of the Ionian villages he stopped by, K'sante volunteers to help hunt down some demons. The chieftain of the village briefs him on what he can do, and remarks about how a mysterious masked man had been stalking around the area when these demons started appearing.

"We do not know much about this figure, but he has always appeared with the presence of the demons and azakana…it is possible he is the cause of it all. His masks may be summoning the malevolent spirits to make us suffer. Beware of lone man with many masks, stranger."

K'sante accepts this precaution well enough. After all, he was an experienced warrior. If needed, he will just fight and defeat this masked man. That night, he goes on patrol as he planned. Suddenly he senses another presence following him.

Turning around sharply, K'sante sees what he assumes is the supposed masked man that had control over demons. The man had a red mask with glowing eyes, and exuded a strange aura. Before K'sante can move, the mysterious figure runs his crimson sword through him. K'sante gasps and thinks he is dead, but feels no pain or sees blood....just coldness. He hears the masked man murmur something before withdrawing the sword. Soon a mask materializes from the masked man's hand.

"A small azakana, significantly weakend over time." the masked man simply speaks before he starts to walk away. Confused but wanting to know what the hell happened, K'sante grabs the masked man's arm, demanding what that was about.

"I simply am purging this land from azakana. Your spirit had actually mostly overcome the nightmare that had threatened to overwhelm you...but I thought it would be good to finish the job for you myself."

Hearing this, K'sante demands the masked man to teach his technique of hunting down this...supposed "azakana." The masked man tries to pull away saying this is a task only he can do, but K'sante is more stubborn and refuses to let go. Yone could have disassociated from the situation by having his spirit be unbound, but a part of him is intrigued by this stranger's strong will...a will that could weaken azakana without his help.

"I suppose I can teach you a few things. What is your name?"

"K'sante, a warrior-hunter of Nazumah."

"...Yone. Just Yone."

To be contd... here

[10hourshift]

Ok so I just remembered I wanted to make this (and also don't want it to be too long) but bear with me

Something something, I think that for a story that sure loves using eyes and the face as narrative devices it's kinda weird that meg ALWAYS keeps her bang covering her eye.

What I mean is that for a big number of characters these things (the eyes and the face) are used as a way to show different faces of the same character. Some examples from the top of my head are loon and his growth shown as him uncovering his eyes (and even if it's not becoming a new person or whatever, it's like him finally gaining courage to face the world or smth) and Cami, who always has her eyes covered, and added to that she gives a mysterious vibe to both the other characters and the audience. Who later, when we get to know her in her song, we can finally see her "true" self, and with that, her eyes. And when her "shadow eyes" appear, we can figure out that she has some struggles too (idk it's been a while since my last rewatch). (There are other minor examples, like the introduction of Fred and owynn, or when Bonnie decides to take his glasses off, but I don't want to drag this too long :p)

Because of this I wonder why it is that the series is too strict about meg's eye. The one time her eye shows up (not counting that one image of her as a kid and the bleeding eye) is in a music video (important bc only the audience sees this). This was kinda funny to me (I think ever since I saw it from the first time but ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯) bc in "no más" the song that is really about her overcoming her inner conflicts and whatnot her eye is never visible, (only at the start her bang is lifted but her eyes are closed so it doesn't count). And even after that, she doesn't have any changes in her looks. She keeps the same old hairstyle and keeps covering her eye. Even in zer0, she still has her bang, though the hairdo change is pretty cute imo, but I keep my point, WHY IS THE EYE ALWAYS COVERED???

The reason is never explicitly said, though, it's safe to assume that it has to do with her Big Past Trauma, either in a literal way (eye damaged or draws too much attention, so it's better to keep covered) or a narrative way (something related to shadows??, maybe???). So, this and the already mentioned obsession of the series to keep her eye hidden* is kinda strange to me bc it makes me wonder why it is so damn important to keep her face hidden? And also, what would need to happen for her to show her face??

*the reason I'm so persistent that is "the series" who keeps her eye hidden is bc meg is not often seen actively trying to hide her eye. But her default characteristic is her bang over like half of her face.

Tbh I don't have anything convincing enough to conclude this. As is mostly a ramble about some silly detail that bothers me a little too much. So feel free to add your thoughts if you want to, I just wanted to ramble a bit about this xd

Have an image of genderbent meg I found on the wiki for the trouble

[gingerlurk]

Lovers' Crest | Chapter 17: The Forged

Din Djarin x f!Reader

Masterlist

Summary: You've spent months believing your actions had made you a traitor, an enemy, never to be trusted again. But when you reveal yourself to the one who may as well have cast you out, you find an ambivalent and unlikely ally.

And you're gonna need it.

Word count: 3k

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, slow burn, non-canon (the Razor Crest never gets destroyed, it also gets upgraded with a cabin), post season 3, ANGST, I'm sorry, yearning, canon characters present.

A/N: Hey, you're awesome. X

--

The Armourer has always enjoyed the quiet of the work. It’s not the work that’s quiet, of course. A heavy hammer rises and sings down onto the metal, ringing the air over and over as she works. It’s the inner quiet that stills her mind and funnels her focus down into the piece before her.

She doesn’t feel hurried, or the need to check her surroundings. Even though it is a conflict of significance for which they prepare, she is deep in the mountainside of their established Covert. There is not a soul in the universe outside their clan that knows she is here.

But as she turns to quench the piece, tongs held nimbly aloft, there is a quiet figure seated at her table, and she does not know them.

She pauses for only a moment, then continues the work. They don’t move from where they sit, watchful.

As the Armourer shifts about her forge, she takes in small glances at her new arrival. It appears to be an Ubese hunter, the stretched and elongated features of the mask reminding her of certain mutated insects her people had unearthed on Mandalore.

Heavily armed with two rifles slung across the visitor’s back, and a cross-strap of munitions set to blow a small fortress, she does puzzle over how this presence came to be in her sanctum without her notice, or the notice of any of her comrades. Moreover, does this stranger know what they’ve come across? A Mandalorian Covert preparing for a war? 

The piece settled on its mould, she turns to study the figure at her table more closely. They haven’t spoken still, and the Armourer begins to sense something familiar.

‘You come with a purpose,’ she states. ‘A message?’

Her guest straightens just a little.

‘I do,’ a brittle, reverbed voice echoes around the forge chamber.

‘Tell me.’

Her sole company stands slowly, palms out and settled at their sides. No threat.

‘You know a war approaches. I saw your preparations on my way here. It is not enough.’

The Armourer tilts a condescending helm. ‘We have the forces to meet the Imperial threat,’ she says.

‘Do you know about their allies?’

‘Yes.’

‘All of them?’

A different tilt, more inviting.

‘Tell me.’

--

You take turns between leaning heavily on the wall and then pacing back and forth in the shadows out of sight of the gathering audience. Armoured and armed soldiers of varying height and age and gender steadily file into the chamber, forming a congregation ready to take in the beckoned proceedings.

The rough garments and stuffy helmet of your disguise do loads to allow your festering anxiety to foment into a near panic attack. Tamping it down with deep breaths and every calming mantra you can recall, you await your fate.   

Once the place is full and the Covert readies to hear what is in store, you force yourself to straighten and still.

From your vantage, you see the Armourer step into the centre of the dim lighting.

‘Gathered clan, loyal Covert,’ she says in a steely tone. ‘We are here on this moon to be the volleying party in an oncoming war. To know the enemy and beat back their advances.’

A unified beating of wrists fills the space. Everyone knows what they’re there for. They’re waiting on what else needs to be said.

‘But I have learned there is much we did not know. There are alliances and joining forces that would have taken us entirely by surprise if not for one, unforeseeable thing.’ The commanding presence of the woman speaking has everyone in the room hushed, still waiting.

Your heart is in your ears as you see her turn away from her congregation to you, raising a hand to invite you into view. You just have to tamp it down and move into the light. You step forward.

The din of protest and movement that follows as you emerge from the shadows, still clad as you are in heavy robes and mask, is deafening. The sensors built into the helmet you’re wearing catch the red, primed muzzles of every weapon in the place. Pointed at you.

It’s okay if you die, you think, just so long as they believe you.

The Armourer speaks over the unrest. 

‘This supposed stranger walked into the forge alone and undiscovered, addressing me in repose before I had even noted their presence.’ The room grows hushed again. She carries on. ‘They found us at this location at impossible odds.’

‘How?’ demands a huge man stationed near the front, long rifle aimed at your head. You’d fixed his speeder once.

‘Because they have known us. And because they share a deep connection with one of our very own,’ she scans the room. You see her helm pause in line of sight of the small green wandering face you had missed so much. Ears twitching and head bobbing in mild interest. It tugs hard on your thundering heart.

Your eyes flick to the dark stillness beside him, Din. 

‘This is the case, is it not?’ The Armourer turns to you and says your name.

Your augmented eyes, locked on Din, take in his infinitesimal flinch. But otherwise, nothing.

You sigh, reach up and lift your helmet, looking back to the Armourer with as much reverence as you can muster. Of course she knew it was you.

‘It is—’ you start but the room erupts in a roaring blaze of shouts and weapons cocking. You can’t stop your eyes flicking back to Din. He hasn’t moved an inch. Blaster still locked on you, still seated while everyone around him has leapt to their feet.

Grogu looks at you calmly, keen eyes bright. He knew you were coming. He showed the way.

The Armourer holds an arm out to the gathering, stepping carefully between you and the others. The cacophony fades quickly.

When all is quiet again. She continues.

‘We knew about the Crowning regiment and the Division allying with the Imperial forces we oppose. But now we have been brought the troubling news of more alliances being forged, cast, and bought.’

The Armourer relays the news you’d delivered. The Guild being hired and the doubtless other mercenaries brought to the cause for glory and riches. The room fills with a restless discontent. You decide now’s the time to speak up.

‘I can help!’ You raise your voice over the muttering. ‘I can help you win this war.’

You look to the Armourer. She gestures to continue.

‘Your targeting centre, for one,’ you ignore some outraged cries about how you could possibly know about that. ‘I can upgrade the iris ports, boost its range way, way farther. You’ll have the skies in hand.’

You spot a few blaster sights being lowered. Keep going.

‘And that imp camp on the chordal coast; you’ve reconned it, you know about the walker and the tie fighters. I can help you sabotage them, pre-set scrambles and vibrophase explosives.’

You think you’re getting through, less muttering, more still and focused figures.

You curse yourself for looking again, but you can’t stop cutting back to Din. You’re surprised to see he’s standing, though nothing else about his posture has changed.

‘And I can fight!’ You say, dropping your gaze from his steely helm. ‘I want to fight.’

You bully yourself to not cry, standing here as waves of distrust and suspicion radiate from the crowded gathering. Bursts of ‘why!’, ‘how can we trust her?’, ‘she’s a spy’ echo around the space.

The Armourer finally speaks again, easily heard over the discord. ‘She did not have to risk everything to come here,’ she says. 

You beg to differ, but you stay quiet and turn your gaze to hold steady on her. She in turn regards you for a moment, then turns back to her people.

‘We will accept her offer of help,’ she decrees. She doesn’t stop speaking as muttering and protest rumbles on, though it is fading into contemplation here and there. ‘We cannot afford to lose this war. And it is too great of a risk to refuse an alliance where it is offered. This is the Way.’

You let the echoing ‘This is the Way’ from the crowd wash over you. Then movement catches your eye and you look back to Din. He’s holstered his weapon and is moving along the row of his seated compatriots.

He turns and marches down the aisle, away from you, with not a single look back. Grogu glances at you sadly before hopping down to follow his father. You try to convey your best ‘It’s okay; thank you,’ to him before he goes. 

As they vanish around the doorway, the rest of the gathered assembly breaks. Some approach you and the Armourer, others head off in turn, back to duties, knowing their place.

The Armourer starts issuing instructions to those who had moved forward. You fight back the overwhelming urge to collapse to the ground and sob, focusing instead on deep breaths and looking ahead. Focus on what’s in front.

With a few repeated mantras, you collect yourself, fall into a tentative air of confidence. 

A member of your group turns to you, gestures at you up and down. ‘You will turn your weaponry and garb over to the inventory crew to be purposed for the battles ahead,’ she commands.

‘Oh,’ you look down at yourself. ‘You can have the threads and the rifles, no problem. But,’ you flip the headwear you’re holding up and show off the array of circuitry and switches blinking inside. You wink, ‘I need this for other things.’

You’re seated on the floor of the battle room, a mess of wire coiling and circuit boards scattered around you. To you, increasing the range on the multi-array scoping system is simply a matter of telling the right wires where to go. Parts from the cannibalised helmet that lies by your knee will help them along.

A slender, kind of gangly Mandalorian has crouched beside you, making no effort to hide his fascination with what you’re doing.

He speaks with the pitched, wavering tone of an adolescent. Through the modulated vocoder, it’s kind of adorable.

‘So you’re using that circuit to program the power flux?’ he asks.

You chuckle. ‘More or less. It’s not a smooth curve though, up, down, up.’ You make a wave motion with your free hand. ‘It has to be more loose, or you get seizure.’

The two of you continue like that, in companionable tinkering. It’s the first time you’ve felt calm and present since warping into the system. It doesn’t last long.

Your peace is shattered by the heavy, clinking footfalls of Din Djarin. You’d recognise them anywhere, but your stomach still flips when he enters the octagonal, vaulted space. You feel tiny and meek, hunched in your nest of wires, but he barely turns in your direction. Instead, he takes several long strides around you and your burgeoning apprentice to step flush with Ari Wren.

You’ve learned that Wren is the Armourer’s 2IC in this war room, relaying tasks and keeping things on track. She has a brash but candid demeanour. And she’s tolerated your presence well enough, so you figure you owe her respect.

Din murmurs to Wren, who’s listening intently. Helmets titled together. You strain to overhear but he’s barely above a whisper.

He’s standing so close to her… What could he be saying…

You shake and give yourself a mental slap. You have no fucking right to be jealous right now! What the fuck is wrong with you?  

Wren breaks away, gives him a nod, and they part. You focus back on what you were soldering, furious with yourself.

‘Um, m- miss? Sorry?’ Your head snaps to the kid. 

‘What?’

‘Sorry, I was asking if recreating this would be possible in future builds? Make a 2.0 or?’

You will your face to clear, giving the young man a warm smile while trying to ignore your ex-lover stepping around you again like you’re so much refuse.

‘Potentially, sure.’ You wink. ‘See how this one pans out.’ You haven’t even finished speaking before Din is gone.

After a few weeks of working quietly about their base, taking orders and following duties, your presence seems to have been accepted by most everyone there. You now only catch the occasional long stare or hostile posture. Most times you get a nod as you pass someone. A few times you’re even stopped in your path, asked questions about your latest project – installing thermal railguns on your commandeered T-Wing. 

Most everyone, of course. 

You don’t know how he does it, but since briefly intersecting in that war room, the one Mandalorian you ache to see has been absent. Even at mealtimes. You try not to do it, but you always check every helmet you can land eyes on as they file across the hearth one by one and take in their supper, each shifting off to find a secluded spot with communal unspoken understanding. You can never find a reason to linger long enough before you just have to take up a cup and move off.

His young apprentice seeks you out once. You’re toying with a construct module when a brush on your ankle has you looking down.

Grogu gazes up with a tiny ‘Mm, eh?’ and you crouch to him.

‘Hey baby,’ you reach out a hand and he scoots toward it, letting you give him a squeeze. You’re treated to a tiny grunt. ‘Gods, I missed you so much, you know?’

He ‘wehs’ at you and peers around, like he’s checking you’re alone. Then he lays a hand on yours, closes his eyes and coos softly. A long, tentative moment passes before his little claw grips you hard. Your senses are flooded. Ambushed. With emotions. With thoughts. It’s difficult to make it all out, but sadness and joy and anger and love all cascade within you. A cacophony of ‘where did you go?’, ‘where have you been?’, ‘you came back, you’re back, you’re back,’ roars away.

You will reassurance into your consciousness, and ‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.’ It’s hard to do, the gale of emotion passing through you so furious and consuming. After what feels like an age, the swirling storm eases and you swim back into the present moment, eyes brimming with tears. They fall freely, dotting the ground between the two of you.

‘I’m sorry,’ you say aloud. Grogu just looks down, a little chagrined. Sensing further questions from him, you add, ‘If they let me stay, I will.’

He gives you a head tilt and a small ‘patu’ that’s borderline incredulous. You smile sadly.

‘Yeah, fair enough,’ you say.

‘You’re sensitive to the powers he possesses.’ The voice slices across your reverie with the child. You look up to see the Armourer a few steps away, watching intently. 

‘The Force,’ you say, wiping at the stinging tears.

‘Yes,’ she says. ‘Do you know what it means?’

You reply honestly, ‘Not a clue, actually.’ Despite having ample opportunity, you hadn’t sought any detail about the sorcery you could apparently tap into. That same strangling fear of being bound, locked down, tied to something beyond your volition had held you back from it.

She seems to infer exactly this as she stares at you and Grogu.

‘I understand,’ she says, gesturing at the child still holding onto your hand. ‘It is a mysterious gift, one the Jedi once guarded heavily. But this one forges his own path to walk. Just as you do.’

Gods, what is she even talking about… You suddenly feel tired, a fatigue down to your bones.

‘Much has changed here,’ she intones, ‘in the time since you left this foundling and his father.’ 

She says the words without malice, just matter-of-fact. You left this foundling and his father. But they cut across you like a sabre. You’d never thought mere words would have a chance at destroying you. Yet here you are, trembling like the mortally wounded.

The rest of what she says just manages to sink in though, so you focus in on that. Much has changed… What does that mean? 

You look up to ask but are startled to see her holding a familiar device – Din’s datapad. The scuff marks on the side unmistakable from when you’d dropped it off the side of the Crest’s starboard jet engine, where you had been using it to sketch some upgrade ideas. You remember he’d just sighed theatrically and tossed it back up to you.

She makes sure you see it, before tucking it away beneath her furs again.

‘If you do stay, you will soon understand the significance of these changes. And perhaps find the answers you seek.’

Answers? What answers? Is she being all vague and cryptic on purpose? You remember with a pang of resentment how confused you’ve been by her words before. In a time and place that feels like a lifetime ago, when she’d told Din it was time the two of you took a vow as if you were barely even present.

You find no words to say, so stay quiet and scrutinise the hem of your tunic instead. Apparently you have a lot to think about, you just have no clue where to start.

‘Come Grogu,’ the Armourer beckons. ‘Your father seeks your whereabouts.’

The child gives you a penetrating look before ambling toward her, falling in step and leaving you crouched on the cold, lonely floor.

--

Prev | Next

OK, so... I haven't watched Rebels, or much of the animated Star Wars stuff. And I wrote most of this chapter way before I first posted it. So it's either a wild coincidence that I pulled the surname 'Wren' out of thin air, or I unknowingly absorbed it through pop culture osmosis and my brain just presented it to me when I was casting about for name ideas. Either way, I would probably say no relation to Sabine? Very distant cousins perhaps? I dunno, sorry if it's confusing.

THANK YOU for reading. We're still in our feelings, but we're on our way out.

[kisilinramblings]

A "little" rant about the Magic System inside the Miraculous Movie.

Spoilers ahead.

ML Show : So we take inspirations from both the Mahou Shoujo and Superhero genres and mix them together. The magic system of the ML universe has clear rules. They can be bended, or played with but never broken. Each Miraculous grants a superpower and can be used once at a time. The Miraculous are intended to be used for the greater good but it all really depends on the Miraculous Holder. To protect their Miraculous, the main are following a secret identity rule, which contributes to the lovesquare that can lead to a diversity of situations and interactions between the same two people. The Miraculous is powered by a Kwami. Without a Kwami, the Holder cannot transform. The Akumas serve to create a Monster of Week. However, we use anybody and each have their reasons to have negative emotions and have power in-link to help their situation. Akumatization is also a consented deal, however HM usually is manipulative and deceptive enough to trick his victim into accepting the power he offers. Then it plays out like a game a flag in which Ladybug and Chat Noir team up. While there is battle, the heroes usually win through ruse to catch and break the akuma object in order to capture and purify the Akuma. With this system and lore, we have a good sandbox to back up as many episodes as necessary.

ML Movie : We don't have time for this. Whatever looks cool on-screen. Hey! How about multiple Akumas active at the same time? Or an Akumatized Hawkmoth that can turn water into magma or use Darth Vader's Force? That looks evil. And how about Cataclysm but just during that last battle? Lucky Charm? What's that? Not epic enough and too complex to came up with. No-no-no, let's just put a spell similar to the Miraculous Ladybug that rebuild the city at the end because everything is too much of a wreck after that showdown. No need for further explanation to the audience, even the new one we will reach. The characters have it figure it out. Also, Kwamis can manifest themselves even if they are powering up the Miraculous now and their Holder doesn't detransform. Not immediately. Actually the Holder can possibly transform even if they aren't wearing their Miraculous and Kwamis can just decide to transform their chosen one if this on is relunctant to become an hero. Oh and let's simplify so the Butterfly Miraculous is an EVIL Miraculous. Why is only that Miraculous Evil though? Pff! Who cares. We need a bad guy. For the Akuma just need a bit of negative emotion. Let's not dwaddle on why the person is feeling negative emotions and fixing their problem. In fact, Hawkmoth will mostly uses prisoners and other villainous goons instead so they get sent back in prison. The Akuma will possessed its host and is released randomly whenever we say the villain was KO'd. The heroes have no reason to keep their identity secret in the first place. A reveal could have even happen midway if we would have wanted, but we'll put it at the end to close the movie to make it appear we have wrap-up things.

====

All that to say, it is normal to adjust the rules to the format. Like the five minutes timer which serves in rising the tension inside an episode can be cut no problem for a movie adaptation. Even going with just the first 7 Miraculous of the Miracle Box works for a trilogy. But you still need rules that serve as your base that you will respect to make the magic system coherent to the audience.

[darkcircles4lyfe]

labor of love

Thinking back on the books and shows that have captivated me most over the years, I’ve noticed that a significant part of my enjoyment comes through glimpses of the creator themselves. The human, fallible, subjective, personal, and unique perspective that bleeds through. I'm forever trying to see things from the other way around instead of as the audience. As I become more familiar with a person’s work, I almost imagine myself as the close friend who can see bits and pieces of their loved one in everything the write. 

When I deal with fandoms or read and listen to media criticism, I inevitably get slapped in the face by the absence of this habit in other people. Maybe it’s because of concepts like “entertainment” and “consumption” making art into a product we spend our money on, and therefore we feel it owes us something. Maybe it’s the trend of pretending arbitrary differences in taste are actually somehow a basis for objective criticism. Regardless, even though I see plenty of reminders all over fandom spaces encouraging people to just enjoy things without worrying about whether they have some sort of intellectual merit, I don't see much acknowledgement of the creator’s point of view here. 

So let’s talk about creative work as what it is: somebody’s dream, which brewed in the dark and solitary chambers of their mind, real but invisible to the outside world. By some miracle of good fortune and incredibly hard work, that dream is made accessible to us, the audience. It’s difficult to express how surreal that really is. Not all media is like this, of course. But sometimes you can see when a story is made with love, that the creator is so in awe of this miracle that they bring all of themselves into it. When that happens, I too fall in love, and preference no longer seems to matter. It’s not, “I enjoy this thing because it’s so ME,” it’s more, “I enjoy it because it’s so THEM.”  

I worry sometimes that I have rose-tinted glasses on, but here’s the thing. We seem to over-associate criticism with logic, and praise with delusion, when in reality they are both limited. What I’m talking about here is neither. Sorry if this sounds cheesy, but I think “to love,” means “to know.” It’s where flaws and strengths blend together into a whole that is understood as it is cherished. 

All these various observations have been tumbling around in my head more and more since I’ve gotten into this funny little thing called Boku no Hero Academia. It’s so popular, so polarizing, it draws in such a wide range of opinions from so many different kinds of people. I find it fascinating to watch, but, like I just said, it also tends to slap me in the face. Not out of personal offense, mind you. More than anything I’m stunned by how disconnected a lot of people are from this human element, whether they are being negative or positive. Even if they know enough to invoke the name of Horikoshi, they treat him like more of a figure than a real person. 

It’s true none of us can actually truly know him. However, I think that while the author/audience relationship is a somewhat parasocial one, it’s worth acknowledging the mutuality of it as well. Let me take you all on a little journey to bring “the creator” down to Earth. 

First, a few plain facts: Before bnha, Horikoshi was able to get two other manga into serialization: Oumagadoki Zoo and Barrage. The former lasted 37 chapters from 2010 to 2011. Barrage lasted 16 chapters, in 2012. Juxtapose this with Boku no Hero Academia, which as of writing this, has been running for over 370 chapters spanning 8+ years since 2014. Horikoshi is currently 36 years old (born in 1986). 

Now let’s go back even further. His first one-shot was published in 2007, when he was 21. It’s called Tenko, and you can read it in English here. Most obviously, we can see that this Tenko character was later adapted to the Tenko we know in bnha, with a similar power, backstory, and appearance. But I actually think there are a few other ways we can draw comparisons from this genesis of Horikoshi’s career, all the way to the present. 

Here is the intro that prefaces the 2007 one-shot:

^I get chills looking at this, and it makes me grin, no joke. Please take a moment to read all the little tidbits. It sounds like the intentionally foreshadowing first scene of a famous person’s biopic, but no one had a clue back then. I just find that so hilarious and moving at the same time.

So think of the Tenko one-shot as a window into who Horikoshi was as an artist and a storyteller pre- pro industry, with the assumption that certain aspects of his work are probably simultaneously a bit more upfront but also underdeveloped. You know, like a kid. There’s both honesty and naivety there. I can also think back to being around 21 myself (only a few years ago lol), about the stories I was writing in school, the workshop classes I was in with other people my age, what they were writing, the things that were important to us that we discussed informing our work. It’s a formative time, right?

One of the primary things I notice about the Tenko one-shot is that it centers themes of power, heroism, and trauma, and has a resolution which involves bridging misunderstandings. 

It’s all very ideological, but also full of raw emotion. I read somewhere (sorry can’t remember where) Horikoshi saying that in formulating his idea for the ending of bnha, he has kept asking himself, what does it truly mean to be a hero? It seems he started asking that question way back in 2007, through this little story about swords and their wielders. The Tenko one-shot acknowledges that people and power are morally complicated, as is the idolization of heroes. The ending is hopeful, and looks ahead to times changing for the better by the will of progressively-minded and determined people. 

This reminds me of the current arc of the bnha manga, and how the whole story might eventually end. Horikoshi has shown us that the villains are worthy of sympathy, that they are a product of society’s willful ignorance, that “heroes” have also done abhorrent things. But he has also embraced the pure optimism of youth. He seems eager to ask the big questions about right and wrong, and present us with both ambiguity AND certainty. The final fights are not at all a contest of strength, and there are no winners and losers. I’m very curious to see how far he takes this. I’m sure it will ruffle some feathers, and leave some people unsatisfied, but that’s probably a good thing.

The other major thing I notice in the one-shot is the character Hana. Now, as she shares her name with one of the main characters in Oumagadoki Zoo, and they are also similar in personality, that could be where the comparison ends. However, that’s nothing to say Horikoshi didn’t continue her themes elsewhere. The Hana in the Tenko one-shot is primarily preoccupied with her goal of becoming a warrior, and she was inspired some time ago by a warrior who saved her. This other warrior, conicidentally, turns out to be a brutal, a-moral, self-proclaimed demon, and he actually doesn’t take Hana seriously. In some ways, this reminds me of Hawks with his own idols, Endeavor and Lady Nagant, and more generally the idea in bnha that someone you look up to might not be all you imagine them to be. Like All Might and his hidden suffering. Or like Ochako looking up to Izuku up until his solo arc, after which she proclaimed, “special powers are one thing, but there’s no such thing as a special person.” 

Speaking of Ochako. Hana’s primary source of angst in the story is that since she is a woman, her “masculine” ambition is laughed at and dismissed. Her dialogue with other characters is very direct about this, which I find pretty interesting. 

You can really feel her frustration and see the blatant misogyny in how she’s treated. Even though things are stated kinda bluntly, it feels genuine, ya know? Note that she also wears men’s clothes, and nothing about her appearance is catered to the “male gaze.” I mention all this because to me it contextualizes Horikoshi’s more recent female characters. We can infer that he carried this perspective on, but in subtler and more nuanced ways that might not be immediately noticed. They may sometimes look like shonen stereotypes and be influenced by a misogynistic world, but this is likely an act of parody and/or criticism on Horikoshi’s part. For example Ochako’s fight in the sports festival illustrates a similar point to Hana’s struggle as Katsuki is the only one who takes Ochako seriously while other male classmates see her and other female opponents as inherently weak or potential love interests. 

Hana remains ambitious, fostering her own motivation beyond her previous idol, and her ultimate goal is to help people. She reminds me so much of Ochako’s recent convictions. Ochako is fully herself now, and I’m confident her fight with Toga will show this even more, in a way that is much more direct. Since ch 374, I anticipate we may be getting confirmation of things pretty soon, so I wanted to restate that ASAP. 

I’ve said this before, but it really does trouble me how a lot of people assume so much about bnha based on other shonen, disregarding the fact that Horikoshi is his own person. This either leads to undo criticisms or expectations that will likely not be delivered on. It makes me sad because I want people to enjoy this story for what it is. I hope this is a reminder that although it may seem on the surface like Horikoshi is rehashing the same old thing, his work really is a labor of love, of knowing. It is an homage, which both celebrates and deconstructs. Please remember that for the day when folks will be scrambling trying to figure out how we got here. Ironically, the signs were there all along, from the start of Horikoshi’s career, if you only care to look. 

[buzzdixonwriter]

Duty Now For The Future [AI edition]

First the eyes gave it away, then they figured out how to make them the same size and facing the same direction.

Fingers and limbs proved to be next the next tells, but now limbs usually look anatomically correct and fingers --  while problematic -- are getting better.

Rooms and vehicles and anything that needs to interact with human beings typically show some detail that's wrong, revealing the image as AI generated.

But again, mistakes are fewer and fewer, smaller and smaller, and more and more pushed to the periphery of the image, thus avoiding glaring error.

Letters and numbers -- especially when called to spell out a word -- provide an easy tell, typically rendered as arcane symbols or complete gibberish, but now AI can spell out short words correctly on images and it's only a matter of time before that merges with generative text AI to provide seamless readable signs and paragraphs.

All this in just a few years.  We can practically see AI evolving right before our eyes.

Numerous problems still must be dealt with, but based on the progress already displayed, we are in the ballpark. All of this is a preamble to a look at where AI is heading and what we'll find when we get there. I haven't even touched on AI generated music or text yet, but I will include them going forward.

. . .

The single biggest challenge facing image generating AI is that it still doesn't grasp the concept of on model.

For those not familiar with this animation term, it refers to the old hand drawn model sheets showing cartoon characters in a variety of poses and expressions.  Animators relied on model sheets to keep their characters consistent from cartoon to cartoon, scene to scene, even frame to frame in the animation.  Violate that reference -- go “off model” as it were -- and the effect could look quite jarring.*

AI still struggles to show the same thing the same way twice.  Currently it can come close, but as the saying goes, “Close don't count except in horseshoes, hand grenades, and hydrogen warfare.”

There are some workarounds to this problem, some clever (i.e., isolate the approved character and copy then paste them into other scenes), some requiring brute force (i.e., make thousands of images based on the same prompt then select the ones that look closest to one another).  

When done carefully enough, AI can produce short narrative videos narrative in the sense they can use narration to appear to be thematically linked.

Usually, however, they're just an endless flow of images that we, the human audience, link together in our mind.  This gives the final product, at least from a human POV, a surreal, dreamlike quality.

In and of themselves, these can be interesting, but they convey no meaning or intent; rather, it's the meaning we the audience subscribed to them.

Years ago when I had my first job in show biz (lot attendant at a drive-in theater), a farmer with property adjoining us raised peacocks as a hobby.  The first few times I heard them was an unnerving experience:  They sounded like a woman screaming help me.

But once I learned the sounds came from peacocks, I stopped hearing cries for help and only heard birds calling out in a way that sounded similar to a woman in distress.

Currently AI does that with video.  This will change with blinding speed once AI learns to stay on model.  The dreamlike / nightmarish / hallucinogenic visions we see now will be replaced with video that shows the same characters shot to shot, making it possible to actually tell stories.

How to achieve this?

Well, we already use standard digital modeling for animated films and video games.  Contemporary video games show characters not only looking consistent but moving in a realistic manner.  Tell the AI to draw only those digital models, and it can generate uniformity.  Already in video game design a market exists for plug-in models of humans, animals, mythical beasts, robots, vehicles, spacecraft, buildings, and assorted props. There are further programs to provide skins and textures to these, plus programs to create a wide variety of visual effects and renderings.

Add to this literally thousands of preexistent model sheets and there's no reason AI can't be tweaked to render the same character or setting again and again.

As mentioned, current AI images and video show a dreamlike quality.  Much as our minds attempt to weave a myriad of self-generated stimulations into some coherent narrative form when we sleep, resulting in dreams, current AI shows some rather haunting visual images when it hits on something that shares symbolic significance in many minds.

This is why the most effective AI videos touch on the strange and uncanny in some form.  Morphing faces and blurring limbs appear far more acceptable in video fantastique than attempts to recreate reality.  Like a Rorschach blot, the meaning is supplied by the viewer, not the creator.  

This, of course, lends to the philosophical rabbit hole re quantum mechanics and whether objects really exist independent of an observer, but that's an even deeper dive for a different day.

 © Buzz Dixon

 *  (There are times animators deliberately go off model for a given effect, of course, but most of the time they strive for visual continuity.)

[betterthanyalls]

Heyeyeye ok so I’m losing some motivation (IM NOT QUITTING!!!) so to gain some back I decided to do a crackshot! I haven’t done one in a while so I’m suspecting that it might help get my mind flowing :) Anyways here ya go!!

Masterlist

Reading Songs

Superstar!Sans x Reader

Words: 641

Published: 5-26-2024

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I was crowded by the huge crowd all around me. It was a huge rave that my friend convinced me to go to but now she left me. I hate this. I hate all the noise and people. Everyone is so loud and obnoxious. It’s just a rave, can’t they be quiet? Anyways, I was standing near the side of the room while the DJ played some music. I was reading my book, It Starts With Us by Colleen Hoover. She is my favorite author ever. I can relate to every one of her books, it’s like she writes them just for me.

The DJs loud voice over the microphone cut me out of my reading world as I sighed in frustration. Couldn’t they have some compassion for a booktoker like myself? Grumbling out my anger, I listened to what the DJ had to say.

“Yo yo yo! What is up with my gangstas! Tonight we have a special someone just for you guys!!! Let me hear you holler! It’s the one, the only, Funny Bone!!” The DJ introduced the star, an extremely famous idol known for his comedy songs. Smoke filled the stage as a figure appeared. Once in view, I saw him. I saw the most hottest and majestic man there ever was. But he wasn’t even a man….he was a skeleton. From his tall 6’4 height to his buff bones and ribcage. But, I wasn’t like all these other girls. I wasn’t going to swoon over some guy I don’t even know.

I ignored how he was dancing and doing a hot jig while his voice serbaded the room. I continued to read my book. But soon, I heard the music louder and more direct. Looking up, I saw the singer in front of me. He was holding his hand out for me to grab while looking in my eyes. The skeleton continued singing a love song.

“Cause I don’t mind if the world spins faster

Music’s louder, the waves get stronger

I don’t mind if the world spins faster

faster

faster

Just let me take you to a better place!”

I am in shock. I slowly grab his boney hand and he pulls me onto the stage and holds me close in his arms. My beautiful orbs look up to him through my long fluttery lashes. He looks in my colorful spheres while still singing. Funny Bone spins me around in a circle. Soon enough, the song and concert is over and the crowd cheers loudly before leaving. But I’m still on stage with Funny Bone. Once the entire audience leaves, he turns to me with a big smile.

“I saw you down there reading, I didn’t know someone could be so beautiful and so natural!” He complimented me with those dark eyes, only lit up by a blue dot in each. I laugh nervously as I look at this hunk of a man in front of me.

“Oh yeah, I’m just not like those other girls who swoon so easily.” I tuck a piece of hair behind my ear. I’m so small compared to him. He chuckled this deep and beeping chuckle.

“Yeah, you’re different. I like that about you. Anyways, my name is Sans. Sans Undertale.” He smirked at me with his husky voice. I blushed deeply.

“O-o-o-o-oh I i i i i i i i’m Y-y-y-y-y-y-y/n…” I looked down anxiously. He grabbed my chin, forcing me to look back at him. His eyes were half lidded as he gave me a dark smile.

“That’s a beautiful name, Y/n. And you’re so petite too, why don’t we go back to my room and talk more?” He suggested. I was shocked but hooked.

“Y-y-y-yes pl-p-please…” I accepted quietly. I’m just some nerdy girl. He is a superstar. How could he ever like me?

[when-we-drive-away-in-secret]

alright, so this is a question about netflix series which i've recently watched and now i'm suffering from asoue brainrot. there is an obscure moment in the penultimate peril (s3ep6) where frank locks olaf in the closet before the trial, and just as frank is about to close the door, olaf says, "one last thing", as if intending to say something. what do you think he wanted to add? is it something that is maybe more clear in the books?

OKAY so after rewatching that scene (several times) and rereading the corresponding scene in the book, I now feel at least partially equipped to answer this question! (But please bear with me because my research did send me on a bit of a tangent)

So first off, I don't think dealing with the book scene will be of too much help here (although not entirely unhelpful, either), because, as much as I love the netflix adaptation—and I do wholeheartedly adore it—it changes so much that the comparable scene is functionally unrecognisable in several key aspects. The main one being the lack of hostility towards to Baudelaires—Olaf is solidly isolated and supposedly running out of options at this point in the show, whereas his mentality in the books is entirely different because things appear to be going much more his way. He has a crowd at his back and the Baudelaires are seen as far more guilty, which doesn't really translate into the show!verse at all.

So, if we're looking at the show from a more isolated standpoint, I had to consider the possibility that it was a deliberate "what if" moment, without having anything else planned to say, purely for the purpose of getting in the Baudelaires' heads. However, I do feel like the most likely answer is that Olaf did in fact believe he would be heard out, so that's what we'll be assuming from here on out.

The fact that the Denouement in question calls him "buddy" and yet treats him roughly could have made him believe that this is Ernest playing the long con—pretending to be an ally to the others because they were outnumbered at the time, or simply for his own ends. However, he could also genuinely believe that it's Frank, and that he'd be heard out because it's the "noble" thing to do—VFD and the general society in the snicketverse is routinely governed by politeness over logic, and so cutting him off is simply impolite, so he may have believed he'd be able to talk his way out of being locked up. The use of "buddy" could be a generic, positive moniker used by Frank, or a genuine sentiment expressed by Ernest; the rough shake of his arm could be simply how Ernest behaves on any given day, or genuine righteous anger from Frank—just as it's impossible for us as the audience to be sure, Olaf has to try and figure this out in mere moments.

Regardless of what he thought would happen or who he thought he was talking to, though, I have to believe that whatever he was going to say would have been targeted more at the Baudelaires than the Denouement currently getting in his way, so it would likely have been an extension of what he'd already said, and what he'd go on to say at key moments for the remainder of the series—another attack on the Baudelaire parents, a critique of VFD's intentions, or something equally ambiguous to sow the seeds of mistrust in the minds of the children. Despite his general demeanour, he is actually a terrifyingly capable villain, and the human embodiment of the "either I'm god, or truth is relative" soundbite. If he's allowed to talk for long enough, he can convince just about anyone of anything (which is exactly what happens when he takes the stand during the trial), and I wouldn't be surprised if he was expecting to be allowed to run his mouth until both the adults are on his side.

What I think is a very interesting point to consider, though, is one useful comparison from the books—the number of the room he's sent to. As we all know, the rooms in the Hotel Denouement are arranged according to the Dewey Decimal System, and people are categorised above just as the records are categorised below. In the book, the Baudelaires are confined to room 121, and Olaf is locked in room 165 to await their trial. In the Dewey Decimal System, 121 refers to Epistemology—the theory of knowledge. A quote taken from the wikipedia page for epistemology reads:

Epistemology asks questions such as: "What is knowledge?", "How is knowledge acquired?", and "What do people know?"

Having the Baudelaires placed here shows that they aren't sure what people know about them, or what will be revealed at the trial, or what will happen to them (as clearly illustrated by the their conversation at the end of chapter ten). Olaf, however, is placed in room 165: Fallacies and Sources of Error. This could imply that he's in the wrong, but perhaps more likely foreshadows that other people are wrong about him. He will not go to prison, he will not be convicted, and, perhaps most crucially, he is not as completely evil as the Baudelaires believe. He has done terrible things, and he is a terrible person, but—as discussed during The End—they are wrong about the most crucial of his evil deeds (to them). Because he didn't kill their parents. He represents everything that VFD pretends it isn't, but at this point the Baudelaires believe (and have been told) that he is the complete antithesis of what the Volunteers represent—and so, he is categorised as a source of error.

However, in the show, both parties are placed in entirely different rooms, and therefore entirely different categorisations. The Baudelaires are placed in room 342: Constitutional and Administitive Law. This is a choice I absolutely adore, because at this point in the narrative they are quite literally trapped in bureaucracy. They fail because the system is rigged, and they are literally imprisoned by the law—not in the sense that they have already been convicted, but in the sense that they will be no matter what they do. If they stay, the High Court will pronounce them guilty. But, when they run, they're supposedly only proving their own guilt—damned if they don't, and damned if they do.

Olaf's is perhaps the more interesting change, though, because he's no longer seen as a source of error—despite the claims he makes about the Baudelaire parents and VFD immediately before being locked up (once again implying that he isn't lying to them, just using convenient truths). And it carries through to the trial, because he uses the truth (albeit a very deliberately and pointedly edited version) to make the Baudelaires seem just as guilty as he is. In the show, he's placed in room 170: Ethics (moral philosophy). And he is given the chance to talk at the trial, and talk he does. He twists the truth, spins it so that the Baudelaires seem guilty, but that is the exact point of moral debate! He trolley-problemed his way into screwing with the Baudelaires' heads, not because he needed to (he knew he was never getting convicted, because he knew who was on the High Court), but to prove a goddamn point. Yes, he's done terrible things, but did anyone think to ask him why? Of course, to us, the reader, the viewer, the third party observer, it doesn't matter. Because at a certain point, actions speak for themselves. Reasons can explain, but not necessarily excuse—that is the reasonable stance to take, and no matter his reasons, the explanation will never be an excuse for him.

But he's an actor. That's why Klaus calls him up to the stand in the trial, because he knows he'll want to talk in front of an audience, and can't imagine any way he wouldn't incriminate himself. And despite the Baudelaires' personal opinions of his ability, we've seen time and time again that he must be a good actor, because people always believe his performances. And as any good actor could tell you, it's crucial to be able to read your audience. If you want the best reaction, then you need to work out, as quickly as humanly possible, how they'll respond, and play up or tone down your performance accordingly. And he's spent so much time with VFD, with the Baudelaires, that he knows just what to say. He knows that, regardless of their reasons, they will feel guilty—in both the book and the show, they question if they're not just as bad as him! They did what they did to survive, and they genuinely worry that they're the same as the murderous, fortune-hungry beast that's been hunting them through their grief and fear. And he knows that. He wants to get in their heads, maybe just for fun, but mostly to get them to come to him. And the worst part is that it bloody works! They end up escaping with him, burning the hotel and potentially letting him out into the world, turning away from the good-hearted people trying to help them because if they can't trust anyone to be on their side, at least they can trust him not to be.

All this to say that, looking at his character, the writing of the show and the way the events unfold, while I can't give you a verbatim quote of what I think he would have said, I will say this: I wholeheartedly believe it would have been a short, targeted line to the Baudelaires, attacking them, their belief system, their very moral character. Because he didn't know he'd be allowed to speak at the trial—remember, it was only Klaus' fear and paranoia that put him on the stand in the first place—and as far as he knew, that could have been his last chance to ensure they'd come to him. He wasn't sure his previous words had been enough, and we all know he has a flair for the dramatic. Think back to one of the most chilling moments of the entire series, both in the book and show, at the end of the Bad Beginning. When the lights go out and he makes his escape, the Baudelaires would have still lived in fear of him, knowing he was on the loose, but that wasn't enough. He risked capture, risked losing his window of escape, all to torment Violet one last time; to plant that final seed of paranoia and fear into her mind, to whisper threats in the dark. And I have no doubt that, had he been given the chance, that is precisely what he would have done here.

By cutting him off, the Denouement gave the Baudelaires hope; hope that it might be different, hope that people wouldn't listen to him this time. But after all they'd been through, they couldn't risk not letting him talk—everyone always listens to him, in the end, and they had to make sure that everyone would finally believe them instead. And that very act of cutting him off, of not letting him give that final threat, is perhaps what sealed their fates. If Olaf's threat was fresh in their minds, they might have been too fearful to address him. If, like in the books, he'd eluded to his acquaintance with the High Court, they might have known what would happen. But he didn't get the chance, and neither did they.

[prismaticpollen]

the things we do for friendship (4/4)

original characters, f/f, allergy

It’s finally showtime, and Vul handles the spotlight like a natural, but she can only keep up appearances for so long. Later, Wren enjoys an unexpected encore.

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3)

><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><

They’d made it. They’d really made it, the big day had come and gone and everything had gone according to plan.

The crowd beyond the stage stood frozen, shutters clicking and lights flashing as cameras captured what their wielders were struggling to process. Beyond the cameras, over the airwaves, Wren knew the whole world was watching. Anyone who hadn’t tuned in live would surely see reruns soon enough, and soon enough everyone would have to reimagine everything.

She almost felt sorry for them all. There was nothing to worry about, really, but she knew very well how hard the work ahead was going to be. She’d gone through the same process just a few weeks prior, and it had been exhausting.

It had been worth it, though. Vul had been worth it.

She was reaching for her, fingers fluttering in her direction under cover of the podium. Neither of them could move yet, not until the broadcast ended, so small gestures would have to do. This one’s meaning was fairly obvious: now what?

Wren shifted to the right, just enough to meet Vul in the middle without turning away from the audience. She grabbed her hand, squeezed it, and waited.

Vul didn’t squeeze back, but she did lean a little closer. As soon as she turned her head, Wren caught her eye and winked at her. You did great, she mouthed.

Yay. The other girl’s tail twitched, one tiny crack in her stoic exterior. Otherwise, she stood still, watching the crowd file out of the makeshift press room. None of the nobles, reporters, or other notable figures seemed to notice anything amiss; as far as they knew, Vul was perfectly content onstage.

Wren knew better. She was close enough to recognize her friend’s discomfort, and knew her well enough to pinpoint the source. That said, she also knew how she herself had handled her first experience with public speaking, back when she’d been ten years younger and eight inches shorter. All she’d had to present was a book report.

Vul, on the other hand, had just introduced herself to a room full of total strangers, trying to make a good impression on behalf of her entire species. A little stage fright was perfectly understandable, yet she was barely showing it. She really was doing a great job.

I mean it. Wren chanced another look down and to her right, flashing what she hoped was a reassuring smile. She squeezed Vul’s hand again, then let go.

A bright light in front of her captured a different smile, the practiced one she used at important events. The photographer smiled back and disappeared into the crowd. Another long moment of stillness, waiting for the last of the reporters to leave, then it was over.

Queen Zara rose from her chair as gracefully as could be expected from a woman in her sixties. Several attendants trailed behind her as she crossed the stage, stopping next to Vul to make a complicated series of gestures with both hands.

One of the attendants stepped forward to snap a few close-ups. The others stayed back, watching curiously as Vul reciprocated.

They needn’t have worried about that part. Vul copied the motions perfectly; they were a turresk ritual, after all, one she’d taught the Queen the night before while they’d done one last round of rehearsals.

One last photo, Wren and Vul and Zara beaming at the attendant with the camera, and they were free.

“Congratulations, Ambassador,” the Queen said. “Councilor Bailey.” She didn’t wait for any sort of acknowledgment, just dipped her head towards them and turned to leave without another word.

That was Wren’s cue: time to get Vul out of there.

The moment they were alone, she closed the distance between them, wrapping one arm around the shorter girl and stooping slightly to look her in the eye. “You really did a great job,” she said again. “I know we’re supposed to have the night off, but I’m thinking we might have to do one more thing once we get home. You in for a celebratory movie night?”

“Sure, ‘mm in,” Vul answered quietly. She sounded fuzzy, not quite slurring her words, but definitely not enunciating as much as usual. “Just one though.”

“You got it, one movie coming soon. Early night���s not a bad idea, we could both use the extra sleep.”

“Mmm.” Vul stifled a yawn, mumbling her agreement from behind her hand. She stretched her other arm above her head, shaking herself like a wet dog, then dropped both arms to her sides and moved toward the door.

Wren followed her off the stage, out of the courtyard, and down the hall leading to the guest wing of the palace. That was home, now. The Queen had insisted, partly for tradition’s sake but mostly for security, so Vul had been forced to move everything she’d salvaged from her old life for a second time in just under a month. Her new residence wasn’t that much bigger than Wren’s apartment, but it was fancier and much more private, plus it was on the ground floor instead of the fifth.

Technically it was Wren’s new home too, she just hadn’t officially moved yet. Her furniture was only halfway assembled, all her mail was still getting delivered to her old address, and she hadn’t even finished unpacking boxes. She’d been so busy she’d barely had time to care about the mess, much less do anything about it, but that was fine. Just what she needed, one more thing to deal with once everything calmed down a little. Totally fine.

Wait a minute. Speaking of boxes, there was a new one.

She hadn’t been expecting any deliveries, but there it was. Whoever had dropped it off hadn’t bothered to put it with the other boxes. They’d just let themselves in while she and Vul were gone, shoved it against the wall next to an end table, and left it there for her to find.

The delivery must have involved palace staff, probably housekeeping, but the package itself could have come from anywhere. It bore no return address, no label, no distinguishing features at all.

Weird. What could possibly be in there?

Nothing useful came to mind. No way to know what was in the box without opening it.

Oh well, no rush. She could move the box to a more convenient spot for now, then come back to it after movie night. She stepped closer, squatting down to lift it, and promptly did a double take.

Whatever was inside the box, it was packed tight, almost completely flush with the cardboard, and it was much heavier than it looked. Furthermore, there was a note after all, but it told her absolutely nothing about the box or its sender. It wasn’t even a proper note, just a scrap of paper taped to the side, bearing her name and Vul’s in an unfamiliar hand.

Interesting. Maybe movie night could wait a little while. “Vul, come here for a sec,” she called. “You have mail.”

Vul didn’t respond. With her senses the way they were, she should have heard Wren loud and clear, but if she had heard, she would have answered immediately.

Come to think of it, she shouldn’t have been far enough away to need summoning. She’d only been a few steps ahead on the walk back from the press conference, then Wren had stopped to inspect the mysterious package and she’d vanished into the depths of their shared suite. She could have simply forgotten about their plans, but that wasn’t likely. She wasn’t usually forgetful, and the trip home was too short to allow for any major distractions.

Could she have changed her mind and gone straight to bed? Still unlikely, given the time of night, but she had seemed tired earlier. At least that was easy enough to check. All Wren had to do was knock on Vul’s bedroom door, or poke her head in if she’d left it open, and if she wasn’t there then it wasn’t just exhaustion that had her acting weird. If anything else was bothering her, they could fix it together once they’d had a chance to talk about it.

She didn’t even have to go very far; Vul’s room was close enough to the front door that Wren didn’t need to maneuver around any significant amount of clutter. She just cut straight across the living room, turned left, and reached the threshold in less than thirty seconds.

Her roommate’s door was wide open.

Vul had, in fact, gone to bed, but she wasn’t resting. She sat upright, with her tail lashing back and forth against the mattress and her head tilted toward the ceiling. Every few seconds, she inhaled sharply, exhaling in slow, shuddery bursts like she’d been overcome with emotion.

She almost could have been crying, save for one detail: her eyes were dry, and she was baring her teeth like a snake about to unhinge its jaw.

Wren had seen that face before, many times, but the sight only made her more confused. Turresk bared their teeth like that when they were happy, but they lashed their tails when they were nervous or in pain, and they didn’t normally cry, at least not the way humans did. All together, it made no sense.

What was she doing? Another ritual?

Wren stood in the doorway, watching, because she wasn’t sure what else to do. Would it be better to wait quietly, or just leave? Should she check in on her?

She didn’t get the chance to decide. Vul moved first, rocking backwards with another giant gasp. One more breath, even bigger, throwing her down onto the bed with the force of it. Her eyes widened, then slammed shut. Another ragged breath.

“Hhaah…. hhaaaahh-! HhaaaHHH-EHHHH! HHAATSCHIEEWWW!”

Vul folded in on herself, pulling her knees to her chest and curling her tail tight against her body. She hadn’t noticed Wren, that much was obvious now. She probably wasn’t paying attention to her surroundings at all.

“HHAAAHTSCHIIHHH! HHTSCHHIIEEEWW!”

Those were huge for her. Still, Vul wasn’t done. Was she okay?

Vul shivered. Her eyes fluttered open for a split second, then her whole face crumpled. “Nnnngghh-! Nngh-HAAH! HHAAHH…”

Her hands closed into fists at her sides. She was trembling, whining and hitching uncontrollably, barely able to get a full breath in.

“HAAHTSHIII! HHHT’TSSSCH! HHEEHTCHUHHH! EHHTCHUUU!”

Vul sounded desperate. She was just sneezing, which wasn’t that unusual for either of them, but she almost sounded like she was doing something else.

“HAAH… HAAH… HAAHH-AAH-! HAAHH! HAAAHH-HAAH’EHTCHUU! EEHHTCHHUUU!! TCHUU! TCHUU! TCHUU! TCHUU! TCHUUU!”

She definitely looked like she was doing something else. She stretched suddenly, limbs flung out wide, tail extended to its full length and thrashing wildly. Her fists clenched tighter, gripping the mattress beneath her for dear life while she struggled with her own reflexes.

“HAAHTCHIIEEWW! HAAH… HATCHIIUUU! AAHTCHUUU! TCHUUU! TCHUUU!”

Finally, Vul lay still. Her muscles relaxed and her breathing started slowing back to normal, but she wasn’t in any shape to move just yet.

To Wren’s surprise, neither was she. Her heart was pounding, her mouth was dry, and her whole body felt flushed and tingly. She wanted to run to her own room, shut the door behind her, and hide there until she figured out what was wrong with her, but she couldn’t budge from the doorway.

She shouldn’t have stayed, but by the time she’d realized what was happening, she’d been captivated. Vul had looked so different during her fit, so unburdened and open and so beautiful that Wren couldn’t look away.

She was still captivated, even now. She couldn’t take her eyes off of Vul, so she stood still and waited.

She was still waiting when Vul hauled herself to her feet and stumbled towards her.

Brown eyes met ultra-vivid blue. Wren looked away first, blushing furiously.

Vul stopped short. “Wren? What’s wrong?”

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“Wait, really? You’re not messing with me?”

“Why would I- No!” Vul was indignant. “I’m not messing with you. I mean it.”

“Okay,” Wren giggled.

“You don’t mind?”

“Not at all. That actually explains a lot.”

Vul looked skeptical. “Does that mean we’re good now?”

“As long as you’re not mad at me. If you’re happy, I’m happy.”

“I’m happy,” Vul confirmed. She sat for a moment, thinking, then leaned forward, baring her teeth mischievously. “Actually, wait. Before we get to movie night, one more thing.”

“Yeah?”

“If you liked the view so much, maybe you should join me next time.”

Wren wrinkled her nose and winked. “Maybe I will.”