#i need specific names. specific memories! who among their family was killed? how did those family members die? how did they learn

[chaos-of-the-abyss]

it's the best when i see falmari ocs who still remember the kinslaying at alqualonde and still begrudge the noldor. even better when they mention a feanorian or fingolfinian by name

[perthshirecottage]

I keep thinking about how differently T’challa and Peter grew up despite both being taken in by the Ravagers and the people they became. A lot of people are using this as an excuse to point out that this shows that Peter is a horrible person because look, all they did is change it to T’challa and suddenly all these people had wonderful lives! Yondu was a better father and Thanos learned the error of his ways and was also a better father! T’challa was space Robin Hood and helped people! The thing is that it’s not just one factor, one moment that literally changed the how everything changed. Yes, one moment was a springboard to change, but there were so many factors, so many little moments after that really and truly changed the course of history. It’s not a matter of who is the better person but it comes down to how each kid was brought into the Ravagers. It also makes a difference how they were raised before they were even abducted. And how they were raised after. All of these factors effect how the story unfolds. But the biggest factor is Yondu himself and how he, as the adult, chose to treat each of these kids. Some of this is speculation but it’s all based on evidence from the source material. I’m going to go through how each kid was raised so we can get to the bottom of how things turned out so differently.

Let’s start with T’challa.

T’challa was a kid who grew up with everything. He was a prince and therefore lacked for nothing. He was safe and had never had anything personally bad happen to him. He grew up in a palace with both of his parents and has not experienced loss. It’s good that he has never had to deal with these things but it means that he has felt more safe and comfortable in the world than Peter and T’challa has the confidence that kids brought up with all those comforts and safeties has.

T’challa is also specifically a prince. This means that T’challa is growing up with the absolute best tutors that money can buy. He has Wakandan tutors who are teaching about technology that is more advanced than other places in the world. He is taught about peaceful negotiating skills. T’challa grew up on diplomacy and learning what it meant to one day have to take responsibility for an entire country. And being a prince, the crown prince, it means that in the hierarchy of things the only people with more power than him are his parents. His parents have taught him to be humble and that he doesn’t have the right to lord that power over others That he is meant to serve his people and to take care of and love them. So he is kind and not a spoiled brat but it doesn’t change the fact that that kind of environment means that people treat T’challa with a certain amount of respect that is due to one in his position. T’challa expects people to listen to him. He expects people to respect him and to not push him to the side because this is how he was raised. Up until this point T’challa has not known loss and this will affect his initial encounter with the Ravagers.

And then comes the abduction. T’challa has just had an argument with his father. T’challa wants to go out and explore, to see the world. And suddenly T’challa is on space craft with real live aliens! This is so cool! He isn’t scared of all these strange looking aliens. In fact he thinks the whole thing is awesome. They haven’t hurt him or shown themselves to be a threat so he hasn’t had a reason to be scared. T’challa is looking around in wonder and awe and not the slightest bit intimidated. Yondu is upset that they got the wrong kid but he also sees a kid who was just abducted who isn’t scared, who is eloquent and talking about adventure. He is impressed by this kid and his fearlessness. So Yondu figures, hey, might as well give this kid a fun little adventure before I take him home, you know, to make up for this little mistake. And T’challa may be eloquent and have learned how talk to unreasonable people (I think it’s a natural skill T’challa has, but he was also taught to talk to people and that skill was nurtured in him) but he is still a kid who wants to go have some fun and not be burdened by his duties and responsibilities for awhile. So of course T’challa isn’t thinking about how his parents will be feeling when they wake up and see him gone. All T’challa wants is a good time and is thinking like the child he is. He will be home soon enough anyway.

And if Yondu gets attached and decides that he doesn’t want to return T’challa well, a little white lie might hurt for a bit but Yondu has always been a little selfish. And to make up for the lie, Yondu will treat T’challa really well, as if the boy were his own son. Yondu is caring and comforting when he tells T’challa that his whole family is dead and while it makes him uncomfortable to openly show his own caring side, it also eases Yondu’s guilt considerably as he hugs a sobbing T’challa. And to top it off he just found out what Ego was doing, and, well there’s no point in uprooting Peter Quill from his life cause Yondu isn’t working for that stupid planet anymore. He has T’challa and he doesn’t want any other kid. So T’challa is given a place of honor among the Ravagers as Yondu’s son. T’challa is listened to and given respect. T’challa is kind and calm and respectful and he keeps worming his way into Yondu’s heart. T’challa is well behaved and Yondu doesn’t even have to resort to threats to keep him in line. And T’challa trusts Yondu and talks to his father figure and works out any problems they have. They form a bond built from love, trust and respect. And Yondu protects T’challa from the rough crew. No one dares to offer up a harsh word towards T’challa because they all remember Yondu’s wrath the last time someone tried. T’challa was taught to fight on earth and Yondu is still impressed by how much T’challa knows and man that kid sure knows how to throw a punch. Yondu has so much respect early on and he has guilt about lying about T’challa’s family and all these factors affect their relationship as T’challa grows.

T’challa is raised by thieves so of course he becomes one himself. He was still young when he was taken (and it never feels like he was abducted. He was brought on an adventure and then offered a home when he lost his. The Ravagers are his family and the ship his home and there is nothing for him on earth but painful memories) so T’challa learns from the people who are raising him but he never loses the morals that were instilled in him from birth. So when T’challa gets a little older he starts to speak of the right thing to do and Yondu is touched by the words in a way he wouldn’t if he didn’t have to make up for so much red in his ledger. Which makes Yondu not want to listen. Yondu tries to ignore those thoughts of what he has done and he wants to continue going around stealing and living his life for himself and his crew as he has always done. He doesn’t want to change that much, not even for T’challa. But T’challa will not let up about the noble things they could be doing. And Yondu knows that it was a mistake to start out letting T’challa know he thought of him as a son so early in their relationship because when Yondu threatens to let the crew eat T’challa if he keeps going on about this nobility, T’challa simply laughs in his face. As if after all these years T’challa would actually believe that threat. As T’challa keeps talking about how they should be helping people, it upsets some of the crew. They don’t want T’challa and his morals in their ship and they don’t care if T’challa is Yondu’s son, the boy is trying to mutiny against their captain and they won’t stand for it! Yondu doesn’t take it well when Taser Face tries to throw T’challa out of an airlock. Yondu feels obligated to truly listen to T’challa after the whole fiasco. In the end Yondu tries to resist, but T’challa doesn’t let up and those words strike a nerve and Yondu dedicates his life to making up for those kids who were killed. He never does tell T’challa why his crew accidentally kidnapped him. Yondu knows he couldn’t bear to see the disappointment on T’challa’s face. Yondu is determined to be the best father he can be and he’s so glad he didn’t wait until it was too late.

And because T’challa and Yondu are on a crusade to help people, they specifically search out Thanos to have a talk about how crazy the man is starting to become. And it’s well over a decade before The Infinity War so Thanos isn’t quite as crazy as he will become and can still be reasoned with because someone got to him so early. (I still think this is a stretch cause the man was insane and you can’t reason with insane people but this is the only explanation I can come up with for why T’challa stopped Thanos with one conversation).

T’challa becomes such a big part of the Ravagers. He in fact becomes their leader in a way. Yondu is still the captain but the crew looks to T’challa as their moral compass. He helps to plan the heists. He figures out who is corrupt and that’s who they steal from. He figures out who needs money and he gives it them. When people ask for a name he remembers his noble birth and how he now lives among the heavens. And while he is not a king, or a prince, he is nobility and he answers Starlord. And so people spread tales of their savior and soon everyone in the galaxy has heard of Starlord.

And so T’challa grows up surrounded by love and support. He knows how to talk so people listen and this changes his dynamic with so many people and the galaxy’s destiny is changed.

Now to Peter. Peter is a kid from Missouri who lives in a small house and goes to public school and has absolutely nothing about him that makes him special. His mom works hard to provide for him but it’s just her because no one knows where Peter’s dad is. They don’t have much money but Meredith loves her son and he loves her. It doesn’t take the sting out when Peter sees other kids with their dads but Peter is grateful to have someone who cares. And then the person that Peter loves most, the person that his whole world revolves around is dying. Slowly and painfully. He has to watch her suffer for months, maybe years. Peter has to see his mom go from happy and healthy to withering away in a hospital bed. To see her mentally deteriorating and be completely helpless to stop it. Peter is suffering but he is still going to stick up for those who can’t fight back, like the poor frog those mean boys squished with a stick. His mom taught him to be kind and a good person, he just doesn’t know how to get people to listen to him. Peter has never been taught diplomacy and no one is going to listen to some skinny little kid who is vulnerable and a prime target for bullies.

And then Peter has to watch his mom die. Peter didn’t want to take his mom’s hand because he is scared and irrationally thought that if he didn’t take her hand, if he didn’t give her that permission to die, then she wouldn’t. He regretted it the moment her heart stopped and he would regret it until years later when he found a new family that helped him learn how to heal. Then Peter is shoved out of the room and everyone forgets about him and the grief and the fear and the guilt, it’s just too much and so Peter runs. He runs until he can’t and he falls to the ground sobbing.

And then comes the abduction. One moment Peter was on the ground and then suddenly he is on a spaceship, hurtling away from his home and his mom. Peter only needed to get away from that hospital room! He didn’t mean to truly leave! Everything feels too big and it’s completely overwhelming! And he is surrounded by large monsters who are scary looking and one of them is talking to him and he has blue skin and sharp teeth and everything is too much, too much and Peter screams! He screams and he sobs and he scrambles away from these terrifying creatures and he just wants his mom! He wants to go home! Where is his grandpa?! What is going on?! And then the creature threatens to let his crew eat him if he doesn’t stop making such a racket and Peter’s gaze catches those sharp teeth, gleaming, ready to tear a little boy’s flesh from his bones and he stops screaming, completely paralyzed by fear.

Yondu looks at this sniveling, snotty creature before him and he feels his ire rise. Stupid kid has only been on his ship a few minutes and he is already on Yondu’s nerves. So Yondu barks at the kid to shut up or the crew will eat him. The kid doesn’t stop crying but the screaming does stop so that’s a win in Yondu’s book. And there is a twinge of satisfaction when the men laugh at the whole scene. As if any of them would actually eat a child but it got the reaction Yondu wanted. The sooner this job is over the better. And then Yondu finds out that Ego has been killing his own children and while Yondu isn’t particularly fond of Quill, he is still a child and Yondu won’t be a part of killing another kid. There’s enough red in his ledger as it is. Anyway, Quill is small, he can fit in places adults can’t, is good for thieving. Yondu will make more money keeping the kid in the long run.

Peter is taught how to steal, how to fly, how to shoot. Peter is a rambunctious child who has a plethora of issues and loss and has to navigate the waters of grief by himself. No one holds him as he cries for the loss of his mother, his grandpa, his planet. There are no hugs or words of comfort. Just glares and sneers for a weak kid who is terrified of all the scary aliens he is now stuck with. Yondu has offered a few pats on the shoulder when Peter is feeling especially low, and sometimes Yondu will sit in companionable silence when no one else is around. Yondu keeps the crew from eating him (and Peter never grows out of this fear, not really) but Yondu doesn’t do a thing about the harsh looks and the harsher words. And whenever a Ravager takes a swing at Peter, Yondu allows it since it will toughen him up. And Peter’s whole world has crashed down around his ears and he has no support and whenever he plucks up the courage, Peter does what he can to cause some chaos for these aliens that have taken him from his home. While there is a part of Peter that doesn’t want to return to a home that no longer has his mom, Peter can’t forget that the Ravagers forced him into this life, and he is their prisoner. When he is old enough to escape Peter has been gone for so long that he doesn’t see any point in going back. All that’s left for him on earth are painful memories. So Peter learns to get good at stealing so that he can earn his keep and not end up as dinner. He learns how to protect his belongings so no one takes it. He learns how to be wily and to use his wits to fight and escape from those who are bigger and stronger than he is. He learns to look out for himself first and foremost, because no one else is going to. Peter sticks with the Ravagers because he has no where else to go. No one recognizes him besides a Nova Corp officer. No one knows his name because Peter has been lost in the shuffle as another Ravager. One day the Ravagers are hired for a huge score and Peter decides that this is the one that’s big enough that he can finally strike out on his own. People will know his name and his mom’s legacy of her Starlord will live on. And if Peter’s betraying the Ravagers, oh well, it’s not like they have ever given him a reason to be loyal to them anyway. And this does turn out to be the big score Peter was looking for, but it didn’t come in the form of money. Peter found the family he had been so desperately longing for since his mom died.

Yondu teaches the kid the basics. How to steal, and shoot, and fly. Yondu also teaches the kid how to fight because it’s rough out there and he needs to be able to defend himself. The kid has no idea how to throw a punch or block one, so Yondu lets the crew take some swings at the kid because man, if that kid doesn’t learn to fight then he’s as good as dead. And Yondu reminds the kid that he is protecting him from a crew that wants to eat him. At first it’s a way to keep Quill in line when the kid does something stupid (Peter does a lot of stupid stuff and why can’t the kid just behave?) but it eventually stops being a threat and becomes an inside joke between the two of them. As Peter gets faster and stronger and more skilled and less weepy and fearful, Yondu starts taking a liking to him. He doesn’t really let on because why should Yondu make himself uncomfortable by talking about feelings, he doesn’t owe Peter anything since Yondu already saved the kid’s life by not giving him to Ego. If anything, Peter is indebted to him whether he knows it or not. Yondu knows, deep down that he isn’t talking care of Quill the way the kid deserves but Yondu can’t just give the kid up (Yondu’s always been a little selfish). And nothing forces Yondu to confront his own feelings and own up to his mistakes until they’re about to blow up a planet and Peter’s about to die and this is Yondu’s last chance to make up for the way he treated Peter and what he did to those other poor kids that Ego killed. So Yondu finally steps up and becomes the father he should have been all along. He just wishes he hadn’t waited until it was too late.

In conclusion, the changes that were made were not simply from it being T’challa instead of Peter. It was so many factors. It was the initial introduction to the Ravagers, where T’challa wanted an adventure and got one. He wanted to go with the Ravagers and so it was fun and it was kind of his friends to let him stay after his family died. For Peter he had just watched his mom died and was emotionally vulnerable and the entire abduction actually felt like an abduction. It was traumatizing and nothing about it was fun. Yondu actively chose T’challa because the boy actually had a home to go back to. Yondu got stuck with Peter so the boy wouldn’t be murdered. Yondu had guilt about lying to T’challa and something to cause him to repent and treat T’challa better. Yondu could keep himself emotionally distant since he could reassure himself that he saved Peter’s life and didn’t owe the kid anything. T’challa was never given a reason to fear the Ravagers and so felt he could speak freely about his beliefs and change Yondu’s and the other’s minds. Peter spent his whole life worrying that he would mess up too big and be eaten so he tried no to bring too much ire on himself. T’challa was calm and had an extensive education and impressed Yondu from their first meeting. T’challa was respected and so therefore respected those who were raising him. Peter was brought in during the worst day of his life and already emotionally charged and a grieving kid was not something the Ravagers wanted to deal with. And Peter wasn’t equipped in anyway for the Ravager lifestyle and had to sink or float and I doubt anyone was that understanding when he floundered. Peter was a terrified and confused kid who sometimes acted up with his abductors.

Peter and T’challa were raised by the same person but they were also raised in completely different environments. It’s not fair to place of the weight of how either child turned out on their shoulders. They were children who had to deal with the world they were literally abducted into. And you can see that Yondu specifically treated T’challa differently than he ever did Peter. And it’s not fair to say it’s because T’challa was simply a better person because Yondu was the adult in the situation. They were children and they had no say in how they were raised. Yondu was the one who decided to keep them both. He was also the one who decided treat T’challa better. In gotg vol 2, Yondu was correct when he said he ‘didn’t do any of it right’. Yondu may have come to love Peter, but at the end of the day, Yondu was abusive towards Peter. Yondu wasn’t given an incentive to change his ways until the very end when he had to choose between Peter’s life and his own. It doesn’t mean that Yondu and Peter didn’t love each other in their own way. Yondu still raised Peter and took care of him, but it is canon that Yondu beat Peter and spent Peter’s whole life hanging the threat of being eaten over his head. Yondu wasn’t obvious in the ways he looked out for Peter. Yondu kept the Ravagers from killing him on several occasions, but Yondu never let Peter know he was protecting him until the last possible minute. In What If…there is not a single implication that Yondu ever threatened T’challa’s life or beat him or any of the other crap that happened to Peter. And gotg happened 26 years after Peter was abducted while the events of What If happened only 20 years later. So in far less time T’challa was able to accomplish more because he was better adjusted not because he was a better person. The whole conversation about Peter getting into a fight with some boys because he was protecting a frog shows his kindness and how he wants to defend those who can’t defend themselves. But Peter was raised in a place where he had to take care of himself because even in his 30s he was being threatened by Yondu (remember after Yondu pulled Peter and Gamora out of space and beat Peter up and pointed his arrow at Peter’s neck? Yeah that’s a pretty big threat and Peter isn’t surprised by it. Like this kind of treatment is normal). No one was looking out for Peter so he had to learn to survive his abuse and look after himself because he couldn’t count on anyone else until he met the rest of the Guardians. And T’challa was treated with worry and care. He was given support and understanding. T’challa has had a family since the moment that Ravager ship picked him up. The differences between these two stories has nothing to do with who was abducted, but with the how and why.

[screamting]

Wonder Woman 1984 spoilers.

I feel like WW1984 suffered from a lot of the same editing issues that WW 2017 did, but with only enough content for a 90 minute movie. It's only 10 mins longer than the first movie, but it feels like it goes on for much longer, and part of that is a lot of superfluous scenes that could've been cut or done differently to tighten it up, and made themes a lot more apparent and maybe have fewer confusing messages. (Again, not 'complex' messages, just confusing.)

For example: the opening scene is beautifully shot and whoever is doing the 'from below as Diana runs over rooftops/poles/etc' shots? Amazing, change nothing. But also the opening scene is pointless and doesn't really tie into anything. They try to shove in something about 'the truth' when they really should be like 'this is a competition, don't cheat.'

But also a competition is not what Max is trying to 'win.' He just wants it to be 'his turn' to 'win' at... Liiife? They make a couple attempts at "we people who have been beaten down deserve to have something for ourselves finally, and you've never had to want for anything diana so you don't get it." And like, they're right ish? Diana's left her homeland behind and lost a lot of people, but as far as we know she's only really ever been surrounded by kind people out to help her, and didn't really have to worry about money or survival as she either existed outside of society's rules or she kinda slid her way in over time.

That's not saying she hasn't struggled and that she doesn't care, but she doesn't have the same experience as Max or Barbara of being abused and physically powerless. They are right about that. They also are starting a nuclear war and I feel like Diana can say "correct but also literally you do need to stop" and still come out pretty spotless morally. "First of all yes you're right but also if you just replace the oppressor with yourself then you are the oppressor now; yes that man needed to go but also you beat him near death and left him in the road, that's not cool"

I think maybe her time without powers might’ve been more effective too if it was clearer that the tradeoff wasn't "my powers are what's most important to me" as much as "my powers are what give me the power to protect and being able to PROTECT people I love is what is most important to me." Like, she has Steve back, but he almost dies like 3 times immediately because she doesn't have powers.

(Also, Diana, goddess of truth and shit, please face the fact that if Steve stays alive you are committing a homicide on his body's previous inhabitant. At least MENTION that he's body snatching and that definitely is something they should try to fix somehow. Maybe have it weigh in during the conversation about renouncing her wish-- Steve is dead, and also his bodyhost is alive and they have no right to kill him like this. What if he had a family? They're lucky no one recognized him or called him in to ask why he wasn't at work. Unsolved mysteries: the disappearance of This Dude Who Doesn't Even Get A Name At The End To Remind Us Of His Personhood. Imbd lists him as "handsome man." Talk about a slab of meat my guys.)

So Diana, even though she still has a comfortable enough life, loses her powers for about a day and it woild be very funny for her to be like "ugh I hate not being able to DO THINGS SO EASILY and my shoulder hurts I was shot" and chris like "lol yeah sorry I also miss feeling that extra safety layer around you" and it's not exactly "humbling"(???) as mentioned in the opening scene, but it is a reminder of what it feels like to nit be the strongest person in the room. Maybe that's where a flashback to Themyscira would have worked well, where she's eager to prove herself and outclass everyone but she has to be reminded that even though she's special even among amazons there's still like.. I don't want to say great power comes great responsibility, but maybe ‘we would love you even if all you did all day was stare at the sand and even then you would be precious and protected,’ but also that is a gift the amazons are giving her, because when they were enslaved in the world of man, they saw no love or protection given to those who needed it most. Maybe just, sometimes you don’t lose because you ‘deserved’ to lose. Maybe you just slipped and lost it all.

Maybe the film ends with Diana being Othered again, like how in the first movie she is clearly a goddess and showing magical stuff for the first time but she has her posse. In this one she's alone at the end but a little more able to connect with the little things. It's already sort of there with that very saccharine ending, but again, more explicit might be better.

For scenes that would just tighten things up and get us moving along though:

cut Maxwell absorbing the crystal. Diana figures out what happens later and in the meantime is confused what's happening. We can join in on that mystery.

Cut every kissy thing by at least half

No unnecessary park scene. The homeless man is a nice hint into Barbara's like personal life I guess, but ultimately it doesn't really do anything, and the rapist dude just takes up space honestly. Like, she could kick the ass of any of the catcallers and just roundhouse kick them into a pole and go "huh." Creepy smile. End scene.

Mall scene useless. Vigilante diana confusing and useless. Open us up immediately with Barbara being bullied and Diana appears as a savior first thing in the movie. FBI raid still happened and they just have rocks and shit. Diana still hesitant about contact with people but Barbara is so obviously in need of a friend she kinda saviors herself in again. Gets a clingy friend but also someone who maybe is able to appreciate Diana's archeology feelings.

I don't remember anything that happened in the museums but agree Steve should see the air and space museum, but maybe it would've worked better if one scene he just shows up decked out head to tow in NASA merch

That is NOT how flying works but I'm gonna be honest I think they didn't need to go to Byalia/Egypt(??) much at all. At the very least the car could’ve swerved into the town as a crisis instead of having the kids in the road to be saved. Diana feeling bad after being hit by a humvee would indeed show more clearly than the bullet-- we don’t know if she is or isn’t bulletproof because she’s deflected all of them before. She doesn’t do any extra superstrength before. She doesn’t seem any less powerful than earlier in the movie. It ends up trying to ‘show’ but instead it ends up NEEDING to be told later on.

I can go either way on this I guess, but the plane section can be... At the very least shortened. Coffee cup joke was good tho.

Acceptable answers to "how do fly?"

"Flying is easy, it's landing you have to worry about."

"Aim for the ground and miss"

Ultimately WW 2017 was a war movie that happened to have a superhero in it, amd WW1984 was a superhero movie that had trouble finding where it's plot had to go I think. With World War One, like, there's stuff to say and talk about automatically, but in 1984 it feels a bit like they knew mutually assured destruction and how it was ultimately real bad as a strategy and if we all just agreed itd be... Fine? I guess? Again, unless you go to a specific incident there's not much to say about the cold war except 😬

Patty Jenkins and Geoff Johns both got into their teenage years in the 80s so it's totally possible they were going off personal memories instead, but it definitely had some trouble translating onto the screen I think.

There is some good stuff as well, it's just getting to them while buried under all the other stuff mostly. Pedro Pascal did extremely good at making me hate Max Lord Immediately. Steve Fashion Show was fun. "Topaz is such a lame rock lol". Kristen Wiig is holding this movie together more than anyone else and it's great. I like how her becoming an Alpha Bitch doesn't mean she immediately hates Diana but still wants to be her friend and be seen by her. The entire "You seem like you'd be out all the time and like never go on ever" sounds a LOT like a closetedness conversation.

There is a lot of good stuff in it but it's just... Not what the first one was. I think probably the constant delays on release didn't help the hype at all. They went powerful sappy at the end (gooshy feelings? In my wonder woman movie?) which I understand theyre trying to make Diana a hero who doesn't murder the tiny earthlings over stuff... But I am also left just kind of wondering if everyone's memories were erased with the nukes or if the cold war ended VERY differently in the DCEU, and I am far too distracted by that to think about how people are good at their core and stuff. It just feels like it brings up lots of things, and decides that if they have enough emotions, it's fine to brush them aside.

[benichi]

I played Chou no Doku (so you don’t have to) - True Route

This is the BIG SPOILER route which reveals all the secrets. I decided to post this before anything else though because Majima’s route splits from this one and is easier to understand after knowing everything. Also I actually quite like this route so this post is more on the serious side, but with that out of the way we can have a good time with all the other ones later lol.

The route splits off after Yuriko’s mothers death. If you’d like to read what has happened before check out these posts: (Prologue 1) (Prologue 2) (Mizuhito’s Route 1) (Mizuhito’s Route 2)

Yuriko finally gets the hint that the Chinese Bellflowers are connected to everything that’s been happening. She decides to visit Lady Kyoko, since she’s an old friend of her mother and might know more about the situation than she lets on.

She asks if Kyoko knows anything about Chinese Bellflowers and if they have any connection to her deceased mother. The Lady states that she may know the answer, but in order to be completely sure of her suspicion she asks that Yuriko find her Mother’s diary. Kyoko concludes that the diary must still be around since it held great importance, but is likely hidden somewhere in the Manor.

At home Yuriko immediately starts searching the storehouse...

... and ends up finding some pr0n.

As she’s about to give up and just settle for the pr0n she’s found Yuriko spots a small hamper which, hidden among Kimonos, also holds her Mothers diary.

The diary is from 25 years back. Shigeko writes that she’s in pain, but not unhappy since due to her condition her Brother visits her a lot. Though she also wonders what he thinks of her inevitable marriage. A little later she writes that she misses her Brother and that he will be married soon as well.

There’s more talk of Shigeko being courted by Yuriko’s father and her hate towards the woman her Brother will marry. Eventually she says that she will have to leave her home to visit a “Villa”.

Sweet Home Alabama

Yuriko notes that some of the pages have been ripped out, specifically those about Shigeko’s time at said Villa...

Speaking of Brothers! Mizuhito shows up and asks why his sister decided to pay Lady Kyoko a visit. Yuriko tries to dodge the question, which leads Mizuhito to reveal that the Lady is bisexual and especially interested beautiful people - Yuriko to be precise. He warns that Kyoko isn’t as nice and innocent as she appears. Yuriko ends up getting mad since she clearly needs Kyokos help, so she storms out of the room saying that she’ll definitely be visiting her again the next day.

Mizuhito’s turn to get dragged.

On said next day Lady Kyoko starts to read through the diary, stating that she finds it hard to believe Shigeko would rip out pages herself. The women conclude that whoever is responsible for the missing pages did so in anger, and that they never wanted for anyone to find out about what happened at the Villa. Kyoko exclaims that she’s figured out the connection between the Chinese Bellflowers and what’s been happening - but also suggests that Yuriko find out the truth herself by visiting the Villa.

Once Yuriko arrives at the Villa she asks if there is someone that has been working at the place 25 years ago. It appears that the last person, called Kikuya, who fits that description left the Villa recently but lives nearby. Once at her house Kikuya immediately recognizes that Yuriko is Shigeko’s daughter since she looks just like her.

Kikuya was actually tasked with looking after Shigeko’s brother Kazukiyo and states that the sibling were very... “close”. Yuriko proceeds to ask about what happened 25 years ago which shocks Kikuya. The old women says that Yuriko’s father asked her the exact same question. He came 15 years ago with fire in his eyes, scared of what he might do to her Kikuya told the truth - something she was never supposed to tell anyone. The women can’t bring herself to say it again, which leads to Yuriko stating her thoughts - that her Mother gave birth in that Villa.

Kikuya confirms her suspicion and exclaims that Yuriko’s dad looked like a demon after hearing the truth. Terrified she told him the whereabouts of the child - which had been raised by a Maid like he was her own. The name of that Maid was Kikyo (Chinese Bellflower). Kikuya also confirms that the child called Kiyoshi was indeed born from an incestuous relation between Shigeko and her Brother. She goes on to explain about hearing a rumor that the entire family of said Maid disappeard...

After returning Yuriko decides to finally confront the killer of her parents. She heads to the Servant’s room (alone, of course) to speak with...

Immediately starting off strong. But I mean we know by now that Yuriko has a thing for calling guys she’s into “Brother”. Majima initially tries to laugh it off but stops once he realizes she won’t let things go.

I’m not sure if he means Mizuhito or Kazukiyo but either way he be dragging.

Yuriko tries to exclaim that all the time they’ve spent together couldn’t have been a lie - but Majima states that it was exactly that. He says that Yuriko must have come for a reason, which leads to her saying that she wants him to atone for his crimes by surrendering himself to the police. Majima remarks that he himself has not killed anyone but only pulled the strings. He goes on, wanting to know exactly how Yuriko figured out he was the child born in that Villa 25 years ago.

Please don’t go there.

Majima states that he smells like rotten fruit and that the scent becomes even thicker when he sweats (what am I writing....).

SWEET IS NOT THE SAME AS ROTTEN

Yuriko remarks that it must come from their Mother’s lineage and that they probably couldn’t smell each other since they have the same odor. Finally the conversation shifts away from the scent talk and to what motivated Majima to commit these crimes. He refuses to reveal exacly what Yuriko’s father did however, stating that his revenge is done.

Charming.

Majima says that he would have killed Yuriko if she had stayed ignorant and innocent. But he can’t bring himself to kill her who’s come alone to his room to face him head on. He states that Yuriko might get in trouble if she doesn’t get rid of him, which she rebukes by saying that killing him won’t bring her happiness. This leads to Majima saying that happiness doesn’t exist for him since he’s dirty. He says that he won’t be a threat to Yuriko anymore and that he’s going to leave the Manor. The two of them embrace and... I’ll spare you Round 2 of their scent talk.

Asgsjskdkl. Anyways after getting a whiff of Majima Yuriko once again has to point out that he really is her older brother.

SWEET HOME ALABAMA

Afterwards Majima says his farewell and Yuriko cries as she silently whispers that she likes him, knowing they will never meet again.

A few years later. We learn that Yuriko is working as a editor at a publishing company now but also solving cases that Kyoko introduces to her as a Detective (which is pretty cool tbh).

... and that Shiba is still trying to woo her. Ugh.

In fact she’s a very popular and well respected Detective. Content with her current life Yuriko states that she does not intent to marry anyone soon - or even for the rest of her life. On her way home she spots some Chinese Bellflowers on the side of the road. Flooded by memories she can’t help but wonder about what happened to “him”. The color of those flowers - Yuriko finds to be both beautiful and sad, just like the tears he shed that day.

-

& that’s the “true” route I guess? Honestly this is my favorite ending and I’m glad I got to experience it before the app was shut down. Detective Yuriko was a pleasant surprise. It’s a shame this game had such a bad localization because, even if the truth becomes pretty obvious eventually, the story is still quite intriguing. We can only hope that maybe someday Chou no Doku will get it’s redemption arc like Taisho x Alice did!

[tweedlydumbtweedlydoo]

For her safety (Elijah Mikaelson) #2

A/N: This is my first Elijah Mikaelson fanfic, so please be patient with me. I try to stay to his character the best I can, but I’m not perfect! I’m not necessarily following the Vampire Diaries or the Originals story line at all.

I also write for Spencer Reid (Criminal Minds). Here is the fanfic I’ve just completed:  

Off Limits (Spencer Reid)

I am currently taking requests for:

The Vampire Diaries:

Elijah Mikaelson

Damon Salvatore

Criminal Minds:

Spencer Reid

Derek Morgan

*****************************************************************************************************

Previous Chapters: 

Chapter 1 || 

Summary: The two of them fall for each other. He’s managed to keep his and his family secret from her. One night that changes and he knows for the safety of his family and her, he has to let her go, even if that means she has to forget him.

(Changing this up a bit!) y/n takes a trip to New Orleans. She’s not only there for pleasure but business. She’s there to meet a witch of all things. Supposedly, the witch can help her. 6 months of her life are a blur and she has no idea why.  

~ 3 Years Later ~

y/n walks down Bourbon Street. She’d just arrived in New Orleans and the street was lined with people. There were beads hanging from everything; Power lines, the signs of restaurants and bars, the patios above her. Bright and pretty colors lining the street. The sound of jazz music echoed in her ears.

She slipped between the crowd, holding her beer close to herself, careful not to spill it. She quickly dashed through a crowd and made it into an opening on the corner. She glanced around and spotted a bar down another side street. Rousseau’s.

There were a few reasons why she’d headed out to The Crescent City. First, she deserved a break from Mystic Falls. Too much drama for her liking. Second, she was supposed to meet a witch here. Third, well, I guess she would figure out later.

She couldn’t believe she was here to meet a witch. Witches, vampires, hybrids, werewolves are mythical creatures. So, she thought. 3 years ago, something weird happened to her. There was 6 months of her life where she had no idea what happened to her. She doesn’t remember anything of it. Those 6 months are an empty block in her life. She went to a doctor about it, who said she was basically crazy, and he recommended a psychiatrist. She went to visit the psychiatrist, who then recommended she go see a friend of his, Benjamin. He specialized in…. the supernatural. She wasn’t the only one who had visited the psychiatrist and had chunks of their life ripped from them where they don’t remember a thing.

When she arrived to speak with Benjamin, he told her of the supernatural (witches, werewolves, vampires) that lived among them. She was so shocked and overwhelmed with the new information and actually ran out of the room. She didn’t return to a few days later after doing a little thinking, convincing herself this could be true and calming herself down. When she returned, he told her everything there was to know about the vampires and their compulsion. How they can erase people’s minds and make them forget. He suspected she’d had the same done to her.

“There’s word of a witch in the French Quarter of New Orleans that can reverse the compulsion.”  He states, handing her a map of New Orleans. He points to a side street off Bourbon street, “There’s a bar here by the name of Rousseau’s. There you will find who you’re looking for. Her name is Jane Deveraux. She will help you.”

Three days later she packed a bag and headed to New Orleans. When she arrived, she knew she needed a drink if she was going to face a witch. She couldn’t believe this was happening. This had to be a joke. She had nothing to lose though. If it was a joke, she can enjoy the week in New Orleans and if it’s not… well, there will be a lot of alcohol involved.

She downed the rest of her beer and threw the plastic cup in the trash before stepping into the bar. She scanned the room; a few heads had turned to look at her as she walked in. She wondered if they were vampires. She’d wondered about every person who walked by her; Are they a vampire? Benjamin told her they would burn in the sun, however some had daylight rings to walk in the sun, free of harm.

Before she left, Benjamin gave her a necklace. He said it contained vervain, which protects her against vampire’s compulsion. He warned her of New Orleans and that the vampires supposedly ruled over the French Quarter. As a precautionary measure, he gave her a vile of vervain and instructed her to put it in her coffee every morning. He told her it would run through her veins and deter the vampires if they were to sink their teeth into her. So, that’s exactly what she did.

She noticed a blond woman behind the bar and headed that way. She took a seat at the bar and the blond woman walked over, setting a small cocktail napkin in front of her, “What can I get you?” She looked at her name tag, Camille.

“I’m looking for a woman. Jane Deveraux.” She nervously fumbles with the map in her hand.

The woman nodded, “One moment.” She exited from the bar and headed to the back.

When the blonde-haired woman returns, a woman with jet black hair is following her.  

“I’m Jane Deveraux. What can I help you with?” The woman asks, crossing her arms over her chest.

“I’m y/n y/l/n. A friend of mine sent me here. He said you could help me.” y/n says quietly.

Jane nods, glancing around the bar and motions, “Follow me to the back. We can speak in private.”

Y/n nods and follows her to the back room. “The room is safe from unwanted hearing.” Jane takes a seat, motioning to the seat across from her. Y/n realized she was talking about the vampires and their super hearing.

“I take it you want me to reverse the compulsion.” Jane grabs a couple herbs from the table and pours them into a bowl, “This isn’t the first woman Benjamin has sent my way.”

y/n nods, “So, how does this work?” She asks, watching her mix the herbs.

Jane mumbles something to herself, closing her eyes and motioning her hand in a circle above the bowl. The flame on the candles grow taller, then they go back to normal. Holy shit. Maybe she should have more than one beer.

Jane opens her eyes and looks at the girl across from her, “Drink this.” She hands her the bowl.

y/n looks at the bowl skeptically and then at Jane.

Jane nods at the woman, “Now, your memories won’t come back all at once. They’ll come in small flashbacks over the course of the next couple of days, depending on how much the vampire has erased.”

She glances down at the bowl and nervously bites her lip. She has to know what the vampire has took from her. He took 6 months of her life and she wants to know what happened during those months. She closes her eyes and brings the bowl to her lips, taking a deep breath. “Here goes nothing.” She mumbles, before tossing the contents of the bowl into her mouth. It was an earthy taste and it burnt as it went down her throat. She coughed as she finished the remaining contents.

“Good.” Jane nods, standing. “While you’re here in the French Quarter, you do not speak of what’s been done.” She gives her a warning look.

y/n furrows her eyebrows, “Why not?”

“The vampires… they don’t like when we perform magic. It’s a rule in the quarter to keep peace between us and the vampires.” Jane sighs, clasping her hands in front of her.

“So, there are vampires… here in the quarter?” y/n slowly stands, grabbing her bag. Definitely will need another drink after this. Stronger than beer.

“Why, yes. Plenty of them run around these parts. They own the quarter. Specifically, the family of original vampires, the Mikaelson’s. They took reign over 3 years ago.”

y/n gulps, maybe she shouldn’t have come here alone.

Jane sensing her uneasiness, “The vampires aren’t to bother with humans in the Quarter. Ruins business around here. The vampires that live in the Quarter know not break the Mikaelson’s rules or they’ll suffer the consequences.” She turns to her cabinet and opens one of the drawers. She pulls out a wooden stake and turns to y/n, holding it to her, “However, there are some rebellious vampires that don’t like the Mikaelson’s.”

“What’s this for?” y/n asks, taking the stake.

“It’s the only way to kill a vampire. If you are to run into a vampire who doesn’t know the rules around here, take a stake to their heart. That’s the only way you can kill a vampire.”

y/n grips it in her hands, a sudden power she’d never felt, rushing through her. “Thank you.”

~

Y/n heads back to the bar, grabbing a very strong drink before she walks out the door. She knew she was hungry, and Benjamin circled a few places on the map she needed to try. She was looking down at the map Benjamin back home gave her, she doesn’t even notice the man in front of her. She runs into his strong chest, spilling the drink down the front of his suit. She quickly rambles out an apology, “I am so so sorry!” She puts a hand over her mouth, looking at the man. Something in her sparks. A flashback.

She was in a hurry after getting off work to head back home. Her favorite movie would be on TV soon. “Bye Matt! I’ll see you Saturday!” She ran out of Mystic Grill in such hurry she’d ran straight into a man. The contents of her drink spilling all over his nice and expensive suit.“I am so sorry!” She quickly apologized, grabbing a pair of napkins that sat at the table near them.

The man had chuckled, and it was a beautiful sound, “It’s quite alright.” His voice was even more angelic and sexy. As soon as his eyes had met hers, she knew she was in some trouble. His hair was dark and slicked back. He’d wore a dark suit, which she could tell was very expensive. She patted at his suit, to try to erase the mistake she just spilled on him, and he gently grabbed her wrist to stop her, “Darling, it’s quite alright.”

When she looked at him, she was blushing. God he was handsome as hell. So handsome, he was intimidating. She wasn’t sure what to say to him or a way to make it up to him, so she said the first thing that came to mind, “I’m really sorry. Please let me at least pay for it to be dry cleaned or something?”

He slowly let go of her wrist and gave a small smile, “Between you and me, I hated this suit anyways. If you’d really like to make it up to me, how about I take you out for dinner?”

When she opens her eyes, it’s the same man she’d ran into 3 years ago. So, was this the vampire that took 6 months of her life?

“It’s okay, love.” He spoke, his voice was just as sexy and angelic as she’d remembered.

He couldn’t believe y/n was standing in front of him. After 3 years, they meet again. This wasn’t the first time in 3 years he’d seen her. After he compelled her to forget him, he stayed around to check up on her. He wanted to make sure she would be safe if he left. Then when his family left for New Orleans, he would come back every few months lurking in the shadows to see her once more. He finally stopped going back as his enemy list grew longer. He knew someone would put two and two together and might use her as leverage to hurt him.

He watched as a blush rose to her cheeks just as it did 3 years ago. It had been over 2 years since he stopped seeing her, yet she looked just as gorgeous as he remembered.

“I am sorry…” She bites that damned lip of hers, looking innocent as ever. The lip biting brings back memories of that night he took her to New York. She’d always loved to bite her lip because she knew the effect it had on me. I showed her a tease that night. She never teased me again after that.

He shakes his head, “Please don’t apologize. It’s my apologies for not watching where I was going. I should have seen a beautiful woman as yourself in front of me.”

Her cheeks get redder and she clutches her bag on her shoulder. She knows she should walk away but those eyes. It’s like their drawing her in.

He’s grabbed napkins at a table near him and begins patting himself, “Shall I buy the lady a drink to make up for me not paying attention?”

This could be her shot. She has to know what happened in those 6 months. And right now, this man in front of her was her only lead to finding that vampire.  

She flashes him a smile and nods, “Sounds perfect.”

*****************************************************************************************************

I was actually surprised by the amount of support for this! Thank you to all who have commented, liked or followed me! You guys are what keep me wanting to write, so thank you! 

If you have sent in a request for an imagine (thank you for sending one in), I promise, I’ve seen it and I will get back to you :) 

xx 

[aconstellationofmemories]

The Secrets We Keep: Prologue

Pairing: Laxus Dreyar & Mirajane Strauss (Miraxus) Rating: M for violence and language. Genre: Angst, mafia AU. Chapter Word Count: 1437. Link(s): AO3  Summary:

Laxus Revenge. It fuelled him through his depraved life. His entire being, dedicated to one single cause. For years, he acted patiently in the shadows, bidding his time to claim his prey. Now the time had finally arrived. Approach her, make her utterly in love with him, then shatter her – that was his plan. Until her hypnotising blue eyes drew him in, and he began to question his knowledge of her. Because those bittersweet depths were hiding something. And in his world, only two things were guaranteed. Either you kill your secrets, or they kill you.   Mira Death, lies, manipulation. They lurked around every corner of her life, even flowed in the very blood coursing through her veins. Merely the mention of her last name was enough to cause eyes to widen and people to scurry. Naïve, pretentious, entitled. Those were just some of the names people called her for choosing to be different. But life was short. And in the dangerous world she lived in, everyone was a player racing to oust the other before the opponent terminated their life. Her own game had just commenced. Only this time, she wasn’t sure she could outwit them. Not anymore. Tick tock.

Author's Notes: The newly-crowned Queen of Foreshadowing is back! I bring with me my favourite ever FT ship after a long spell in my first ever ambitious multi-chapter fanfic! I'm also excited for this one as it revolves around a couple favourite themes of mine: angst, mafia and revenge. I binge romance novels on the second, but never actually wrote it. Please look kindly upon me in my first attempt at this project. (Or like signing for my death, currently being piled with exams and all that.)

Also that summary?? The best I've ever written.

As always, I appreciate every like and review!

Thank you @be-dazzled for nudging me to pursue this and @sweetmemories2606 for supporting me every step of the way. 💛

Tagging @sassyglassesbunny @adramaticbeauty - my original Miraxus gang. 😏

Slow but steady update. Spoilers will be released on the Miraxus Discord Server (find link on my tumblr profile) when available. Otherwise, feel free to message me!

___________________________________

Laxus

Fake.

The adjective sneered from the forefront of his mind as he watched the models strutting down the white platform. Heavy makeup accentuated the elegant features of the slender women of all colours, making their cheekbones more defined and their eyes sharper than their original form. Eyeshadows of glittery monochrome shades further decorated their eyes to match their black and white designer clothes.

A smug, seductive look adorned their otherwise beautiful face, tugging an end of their luscious lips upward in a smirk. With their chins held high, they strode down the runaway, every single movement of their limbs expertly coordinated for nothing less than the best catwalk.

Anyone with a functioning pair of eyes could see that those women were gorgeous. His own roamed over the alternating models with slight interest, toying with the idea of tangling limbs with one of them in bed.

The thought didn’t last long.

That beauty of theirs which sent men to their knees and the women to turn green with envy? Most of it were carefully altered with the help of a needle or a knife in their futile quest for an image of perfection.

An image which had never existed anywhere in the universe except in the recesses of their insecurities.

In other words: fake.

Add in the charming attitude of a heaven-sent goddess who was too lofty for mere mortals, and any spark of lust his body felt toward them fizzled out.

Soft cheers erupted from the audience at the entrance of the next model, pulling him from his thoughts. His gaze travelled up the length of the woman’s black gown, appreciating how the sleeveless garment hugged her body and highlighted her curves. A strip of white cloth ran up her left side before its unblemished trail stopped below her armpit. Light blonde tendrils stood out against the black material at her torso, and led him up to the only medically untouched face in the line-up.

With delicate eyebrows of a darker shade of blonde, sparkling cerulean eyes and a button nose, her looks easily exceeded that of her colleagues. And those luscious, scarlet-covered lips...all they had to do was utter a word, and any men would bend a knee and do her bidding.

Mirajane Strauss.

Niece of the notorious Roman Strauss. Next in line to the throne with his only son, Marcus.

The beauty she radiated was unrivalled. Along with her good looks, the charisma she carried set a standard the other women could only aspire to possess.

She was a sight to behold.

But just like all things good and beautiful, inevitably, they wither and die.

Her attractive appearance, too, hid secrets – hers more twisted than her fellow co-workers. He found it unfortunate that underneath that stunning façade, ran the dark and dirty blood of the Strauss family.

Specifically, that of her father’s and her uncle.

Giovanni Strauss, her father, was infamous for being a merciless boss with more than a few screws loose and a twisted obsession with prostitutes. He didn’t hold any personal grudge towards her father; the tyrant was just another in a long list of evil and perverted bosses, his own father among them.

Though he would be lying if he said he didn’t feel some satisfaction to have stolen the last breath from the great Giovanni... His demise, after all, did propel the women one step closer to freedom.

But her uncle, Roman... He clenched his fists at the thought of the middle-aged man. Roman assumed the position as the boss of the Strauss family after his brother’s death and severed their ties with prostitution. Very little goodness existed in this world of theirs – if it even existed anymore at all – but Laxus personally preferred to keep innocent women out of it. Her uncle’s decision was unconventional, to say the least, and he could almost respect him for it.

Except.

Roman Strauss killed his mother.

The only good thing in his life – gone.

The bastard could die a thousand deaths and it still wouldn’t be enough to placate the monster inside who craved revenge.

Because he could torture him until he wished he was dead, kill him in the most gruesome way possible, and one thing would never change.

His mother would never return to him.

Mirajane might had been born innocent – at least, until life forced her hand in a world she never asked to be a part of. But by being a bloodline of Giovanni and Roman Strauss, she was cursed to a life burdened with the sins and debts of her predecessors. The good princess act she played was merely a means to disguise the impurities hiding below the surface.

A demon wearing the clothes of an angel – that was what she was.

She strode with her head held high, but balanced down with enough humility to glance at the audience in a friendly yet alluring manner. When she reached the end of the stage, the corners of her lips lifted up in a rehearsed small smile which somehow managed to appear sincere. Immediately, the dimly-lit attendees reacted to the visual – the men with smitten looks on their faces, the women a varied display of envy, adoration, and awe.

One could easily see why she was crowned the title ‘The Princess of Hearts’ by the media.

She pivoted on her heels, returning to the entrance, and he sucked in a breath when his gaze landed below her hips. Her smooth, creamy leg peaked out at him from the slit of her gown. The fleeting sight of her flesh involuntarily stirred up desires he despised to have for her.

Fucking hell.

In a rebellious act which broke traditional modelling, she glanced back as she walked and smirked. Flashes of light fired in rapid succession, each competing with the other for the best shot of the expression.

Oh yeah, the little demon definitely knew what she was doing. Not only that, she enjoyed every second of it.

He didn’t need to look at their camera’s memory card to know there had been over ten photos taken in those few seconds before she disappeared backstage. Neither did he need to possess supernatural powers to predict that she would grace the front covers of almost every – if not all – of the fashion magazines tomorrow.

The models gathered in a horizontal line at the entrance with the acclaimed fashion designer in the centre once the show was over. Grinning widely, he spoke into the microphone.

“I’d like to thank everyone who kindly graced my humble exhibition with your presence. The theme of this fashion show is ‘Darkness and Light’. People are of the opinion that these two can never exist together – one which I strongly disagree. By incorporating monochrome colours in my clothes, I hope people are able to see that they can co-exist without one extinguishing the beauty of the other.” He winked. “Because we all have a little darkness and light inside us, do we not?”

Thunderous rounds of applause rose from the audience at the end of his speech. His gaze swung from the ecstatic designer back to Mirajane, who seemed to be happy to be standing at the corner of the line.

His eyebrow quirked up. Odd. For someone of her status, he had expected her to dominate the centre.

She beamed a bright smile and waved to someone in the front row – a few people, actually. Roman returned her grin with a fatherly smile as he clapped his meaty hands along with the other attendees. His eyes instinctively sharpened at the sight of his mother’s murderer. Beside him, Marcus smiled proudly while applauding the success of the event.

Many would kill to be the receiving end of that brilliant and genuine smile of hers. Its effects were so widespread that it not only lit up her face, but the entire being of the receiver.

But he wasn’t a man in search for salvation.

He was the man people sought to be salvaged from.

Nobody saw his face knowing his identity unless they were about to meet their end. Never in his long years as a made man did he fail to escort them there personally.

He would see to it himself that the same plea to be spared would fall from her lips.

Make her weep – that’s what he’d do.

After all, what better way to inflict revenge on Roman other than first breaking his beloved niece’s heart?

His lips tilted up in a smirk, his eyes gleaming with a predatory look.

Let the show begin.

[poloniumicecream]

i was tagged by @starryeyedagony​ and @hashbrownteamcobrakai​ for this absurdly long list of personal questions <3 no one could possibly need to know this much about me, but let’s go


1. what is the color of your hairbrush? i just... use my hand.... i keep my hair short, it curls and does its own thing

2. name a food you never eat: 
idk i’ll eat what’s offered to me?? i buy what’s easy?? i have no strong food opinions at the moment

3. are you typically too warm or too cold? i have this bird bone body like an ailing victorian child, anything under 70º and i’m freezing

4. what were you doing 45 minutes ago? was trying to be productive but instead found a good link to the blue lick horror house🙏 idk what’s so fascinating about this thing, but i can’t let it go. maybe bc i have nightmares that resemble this space?? anyway i live here now

5. what’s your favorite candy bar? reeses never lets me down

6. have you ever been to a professional sports game? 
memories blocked, sports too boring to think about

7. what is the last thing you said out loud? i regret to admit i am reading this out loud as i go

8. what is your favorite ice cream? idk but the worst i ever had was peanut butter

9. what was the last thing you had to drink? some faintly bleachy tap water, delicious

10. do you like your wallet? i use a coin purse to hold cards and cash - it's a pretty recognizable bright colored mass produced one. a while back there was a popular celebrity on the periphery of my friend group (don’t ask pls) and one time at a bar or something i had my "wallet" out and from across the room they locked eyes with me and pulled the Same One out of their pocket. pretty sure it was weed tho. but imagine carrying ur weed in a normal bill-fold wallet. that would have been funnier :/

11. what is the last thing you ate? 
lost in the turbine of my memory

12. did you buy any new clothes last weekend? i did not but i just got a new desk lamp, genuinely v excited for that to arrive

13. what’s the last sporting event you watched? 
i don't think this question applies to my experiences

14. what is your favorite flavor of popcorn? popcorn smells are compelling but if i eat things that stick in my teeth i'll lose my entire mind. wait this is it, the answer to number 2

15. who is the last person you sent a text message to? close inner circle group chat planning our surprise private island getaway. no but we’re making (safe!) halloween plans

16. ever been camping? not as often as usual this year but yes! see above

17. do you take vitamins? 
those gummy ones like fruit snacks

18. do you regularly attend a place of worship? 
nah

19. do you have a tan? i'm ghostly

20. do you prefer Chinese or pizza? i'm pickier about pizza. u can't go wrong with chinese

21. do you drink your soda through a straw? no...?

22. what color socks do you usually wear? mostly dark but i have some fluffy pastel ones specifically bc the contrast in my laundry is funny to me

23. do you ever drive above the speed limit? i'm gay i don't drive

24. what terrifies you? 
third date kind of question!

25. look to your left, what do you see? dying jade plants and beyond these, a cat's loving gaze

26. what chore do you hate most? 
vacuuming. loud

27. what do you think of when you hear an Australian accent? 
family

28. what’s your favorite soda? 
dr pepper only. i don't really drink soda tho. i was raised by the kind of parents who put fruit juice in seltzer and sold me that lie. i guess it stuck

29. do you go in a fast food place or just hit the drive thru? there are so many food questions in this list pls

30. what’s your favorite number? 
secret information

31. who’s the last person you talked to? 
my father. probably the person i've spoken with out loud the most this year

32. favorite meat? i no longer eat meat

33. last song you listened to? it’s been a war on drugs kind of week

34. last book you read? 
i can't read

35. favorite day of the week? 
something cool about a thursday, i can't explain it

36. can you say the alphabet backwards? 
feeling very interrogated rn

37. how do you like your coffee? however it wants to be. i for real cannot supply food or beverage opinions like this on demand PLS

38. favorite pair of shoes? 
generic black leather lace up boots

39. time you normally get up? i'm drawing my shades and peering suspiciously outside through a crack rn

40. what do you prefer, sunrise or sunsets? ok when ur out somewhere with no artificial light and it makes the sky more dramatic and cool, either one is good

41. how many blankets are on your bed? not enough, season transitions are rough

42. describe your kitchen plates? ... grandma is that u?

43. describe your kitchen at the moment: 
it's clean, it's fine, grandma get out of here

44. do you have a favorite alcoholic drink? 
among the friends i drink with, one is a skilled bartender and we let him surprise us with whatever obscure drink he thinks each person should have that night. i would trust him with my life. conversely i just remembered my very best friend is also a bartender but him i wouldn’t let serve me anything except straight from the bottle. hm. what i’m trying to say is, the company i keep is more important to me than what's in the glass. should i also clarify i made these friends before they pursued this work and i’m not, like, frequenting bars to harass the staff? this answer is a mess lol

45. do you play cards? 
i don’t have a great attention span for learning or enduring things like that

46. what color is your car? 
u know what's funny is how much junk mail i get with car insurance offers. i wonder what color they think the car i've never had is

47. can you change a tire? 100% no and that would not stop me trying. it won’t be my car so i have nothing to lose and all of myself (also nothing) to give

48. your favorite state or province? idk i feel like a stranger everywhere i go except nyc

49. favorite job you’ve had? ok, mr. fbi i think that's enough

😔 i have not kept track of who’s been tagged or done this already, and the links will kill my tags anyway. do u have shit u need help procrastinating on? here, try this

[seddm]

Star Vs The Forces of Evil AMA

A list of the most important or interesting things from the AMA on Reddit from yesterday. The questions were answered by Daron Nefcy (show’s creator), Dominic Bisignano and Aaron Hammersley (writers, supervising producers), and Adam McArthur (Marco’s voice actor).

“I'm not sure what Star and Marco's future looks like but I know they are very much in love now.” the most important of quotes. 

When asked if Starco was planned from the beginning Daron simply said “It was planned. We never did anything just because we got pressure from fans” in one answer, and “I did have it planned for some time“ in another one.

Daron wanted for Star and Marco to make mistake and date other people before finally finding each other to grow from those experiences, the “messy” nature of relationships in the show having been on purpose to treat them as real teenagers.

The Severing Stone did break a curse, but the curse was never the reason behind Star and Marco’s feelings. Breaking it simply allowed them to start realizing that their feelings had nothing to do with it (which implies placebo effect as the only actual impact of it in that regard).

Aaron Hammersley thinks that Star liked Marco since the beginning, but feelings started growing after the Blood Moon ball.

Right now there are no plans for more books, comics, or DVD sets, but Daron would like to work again with Star if Disney ever wanted more.

Ever since they got renewed for a 4th season they knew it would have been the last one, and set out to write an ending for it. Daron is very satisfied by the ending they wrote and said this about its open nature:  My goal was to create a satisfying ending that still left room for more. I feel like it’s in the DNA of the universe to solve one problem but create another. That’s Star Butterfly! I know it may not have been satisfying for everyone, but I hope it inspires a lot of fan fiction and drawings. I didn’t want to solve everything and leave the fans nothing to play with! Plus, if I ever got to do more with Star I want something to play with.

Toffee was a historian and researched the Butterfly family and their magic like no one before. The skull pauldrons in Moon the Undaunted were from family members of the royal court he killed (so the cheekmarks were just intimidation / “rule of cool”).  

Meteora’s rebirth was all Eclipsa’s doing, but she didn’t know if the spell would have worked or not, that’s why she was initially in tears.

Seth has been dead for a long time, and he was put in the book just to have some supplemental elements for the show’s world, without ever having intentions to use him in the series.

Tom still has his fire-travelling powers, since they’re inherent to being a demon.

Ponyheads evolved out of their bodies thousands of years ago. Princess Pony Head’s mother is dead (not as a result of magic being gone, she was already dead).

Ludo stole the tadpoles from an orphanage.

Omnitraxius was just a “middleman to accessing the Multiverse”, so his death doesn’t affect the structure of alternate realities.

According to Daron Starfan13′s real name is Amanda Jacobs, according to Adam it’s Deborah Perla.

The hardest episodes to write are those where they need to get to a specific plot point, and they need a story to introduce it in a natural feeling way.

Earth and Mewni are the only dimensions that got cleaved together. 

Doop-Doop is gone, but the laser puppies are regular puppies now.

Daron sees the Blood Moon magic as both a curse and a blessing, but didn’t provide any further explanation for Eclipsa’s father’s portrait talking to Marco beyond “magic”.

Warnicorns are unicorns who feed on the blood of their enemies.

Among the episodes that didn’t end up becoming a thing Daron mentioned one about Skullnick dating a monster, and one about Rafael’s job (he’s an artist).

Daron confirmed that the first Mewman settlers were indeed humans who fell through the Magic Well in Echo Creek.

They tried writing an episode about Monster Arm’s return several times, but they could never make it work. Daron believes that it might still be inside Marco, and might come back one day (doesn’t really make any sense given magic’s destruction but hey who am I to question The Daron). According to Adam it makes his immune system stronger.

Daron wouldn’t want to do a crossover episode.

Toffee genuinely believed he had won until, and I quote, “he got his face blasted”. So he didn’t really know how all turns out. But they still wanted to end the show with magic’s destruction as a way to pay him homage. So he wasn’t right all along, but he also was.

Star and Ludo are totally going to play basketball together, eventually.

Between The Cure and The Smiths Marco would absolutely like the latter more, according to Daron; according to Bisignano he’d like the Bauhaus.

Dominic Bisignano (writer, supervising producer, storyboarder, director) would have liked for the show to have more slow paced episodes, with less jokes and less self contained story lines, to better explore the characters. 

Erik did turn back to normal with magic’s destruction, but he has “the painful memory of having been a squirreltoad”.

The Realm of Magic is very sensitive and people aren’t supposed to be there, that’s why Moon washing her “wounds” in it was enough to throw everything off balance.

Star on Wheels was inspired by Daron falling in a lake as a kid as a result of not being able to brake on her bike; Lake House Fever by Hammersley’s experience of being snowed in a cabin with his wife (then girlfriend) and her parents.

Marco’s cheekmarks were just due to his exposure to magic, and weren’t connected to the Blood Moon.

Star would love Pringles, but they do upset her stomach.

Easter egg in Cheer Up Star: in Rafael’s shack a painting by Van Gogh that has been stolen and never found again can be seen on a shelf. So he either drew a replica, or he’s the one who stole it.

ANSWERS BY ADAM

(I’m making a separate section for these because it’s harder to tell whether what he says is canon or not, since Adam wasn’t involved with the show’s writing)

Nachos is still with Marco.

Marco still has his Princess Turdina outfit.

Father Time is still fine, since he wasn’t a magical creature (obviously, or the Universe would be kinda done...).

When asked about what he imagines Marco doing after the finale, he answered “hopefully supporting Star in whatever she's doing, as well as still using those butt-kicking skills he developed in the Neverzone!”.

Ludo got his goons by bullying them into submission.

Just gonna post a screen for this answer about Brunzetta because it seems a bit “wishy washy” and phrasing is important to convey that.

Adam thinks that Marco might have worked with Janna, if he hadn’t gotten together with Star.

Gustav was measuring the Diazes in their sleep (in The Other Exchange Student) to make them custom alpaca wool sweaters.

According to Adam Dave (Tom’s father) was just a regular Mewman who worked as a barista at the coffee shop Lady Lucitor frequented. She tipped well and he fell in love.

Toffee called Marco a disappointment in Storm the Castle because he thought he’d have been more of an adversary.

[writing-the-end]

WS Chapter 42- Worth Fighting For

Previous Chapter

Masterpost

Back to our regularly scheduled angst :))))). This entire chapter was written with a specific song from a video game soundtrack in mind, and you can actually notice some choice language because of it. If you want a good song to listen to while reading, listen to “The World and All it’s Lessons” by Joris De Man. 

Red belongs to @theguardiansofredland

Selene belongs to @to-dem-stars​

Ecto belongs to @cooler-cactus-block

Warning: This chapter contains general angst and brief hints (never indepth) mentions of depression. 

There are lots of places to hide in the deep ocean. Coral outcrops, underwater ruins, decaying shipwrecks. But it was the caverns that Red found most comforting. Complete darkness, with only glowing algae that spreads across the walls like nebulas to aid her vision. Her own skin glows in response to the darkness, but none of the light offers warmth. 

She doesn’t want the warmth. She just wants to freeze out everything, forget the world. All it’s joys, all it’s sorrows. All its warmth and cold. To just forget what it means to live. Red finds a small hole in the tunnels, just big enough for her to curl into. She cradles her knees to her chest, burying her face into her arms. She can feel the warm tears on her skin, but they simply are washed away by the briny sea. It’s as if she doesn’t have tears at all, making the pain ache within her all the more. 

It doesn’t matter what’s going on beyond the hole that Red is curled up in. The entire ocean could be dead, for all he cares. Everything important to him is gone. The creature that raised him is dead, taken by the hellspawns. Red just wants to forget the whole adventure, forget the daring escapes and bright nights. He wants to forget his new friends, Ecto and Avon and the hermits. He wants to forget the whole world, all it’s lessons and enemies, all it’s hopes and hates. 

He doesn’t care anymore. The hellspawns won. They have their victory, and whatever the hell they want. They can’t take any more from Red. 

Mama Gummi was always there for Red. She never got to know her real family, she was separated from them long, long ago. But she had Mama Gummi, such a kindhearted elder guardian, and her horde of children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren. The entire monument took Red in, became her family. They raised her, teaching her how to swim and catch fish, how to keep a pufferfish from blowing up and a dolphin from stealing her toys. In her adventures in this ocean, she befriended the drowned- lost souls of ships cast into the depths, bodies revived by the immortal currents and stitched together with algae and seaweed. She honed her building skills by making abodes for the drowned. 

Red has been through many friends, passing and pushing onto her. Friends who wounded her, physically and mentally. Friends who slandered her home and name, friends who twisted words and deeds, who took what they wanted and left as quickly as the wind would change. People who called themselves friends, but were exactly the opposite. In all those times, it was always Mama Gummi who comforted the wounded kipling. Such a big heart, so open and lonely. An easy target for the monsters in the night. 

But Mama Gummi loved Red’s noble heart. When Red would bring home sea turtles with wounded flippers, nursing them back to health, Mama Gummi always helped in any way she could. They may not be related by blood, but Red takes after his adopted mother in kindness. And Red always thought it was kindness, an open heart that would fix every problem. It’s what Selene fell in love with. It’s how he managed to break Avon out of her shell, how to get Ecto to trust them, how they were freed from Area 77 and made it around the worlds. 

It couldn’t stop Blu, and whoever else he’s working with. It couldn’t stop them from killing Avon’s family, from destroying Ecto’s home. It couldn’t stop them from doing both to Red. Why her? Why did they have to do this, to sicken an entire ocean till it’s toxic to breathe, and kill off the creatures that call this place home? What kind of threat is Red to them? She can’t even hold a sword right, much less fight like Ecto or Avon. Why her, why her home and her family? 

Red doesn’t realize he’s cried himself out, and all that’s left is the whimpers and whines. His head is dizzy, dehydrated despite being surrounded by water. The cold, hard walls cradle the lost and lonely child, orphaned twice now as he falls asleep to the sounds of his own cries echoing down the stone hall. 

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

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen Red this distraught.” Selene whispers, collecting the potion bottles from Ecto and Avon. The three swim into the open ocean, escaping the mouth of the dying monument. Its last few ragged, stale breaths against the illness plaguing it. Selene looks across the murky waters, thick with algae and death. “What kind of messed up shit is causing this?” 

“Remember when we were pushed into another world?” Ecto swims to the seafloor, running her fingers across the grains of sand. Trying to not get lost in all this water, lose which way is up and down. “This is the work of the nether.” 

“Blu.” Avon whispers. 

“I met with my mentor, Sylaeus. He’s the smartest man I know, but he said he heard buttfuck nothing about people from the nether.” Selene leads Red’s friends as she talks. She knows this ocean, they’d be lost without her or Red guiding them. She also knows where Red is most likely to hide. “But he did point me to a book about nether fortresses. That they were obviously made by people, in the same way ocean monuments were. Perhaps, unlike ocean monuments, they were never truly abandoned.” 

“Well we met one of those people. Beat the shit out of us.” Ecto growls, running a hand along the wounds left by Blu. 

Selene stops dead. “You met one? You lucky bastards fought a person from the nether?” 

“A hellspawn seems to be what they are commonly called. But yes, we were thoroughly thrashed by Blu. Red got lucky he wasn’t as badly hurt.” 

“Well what the fuck did he say? What kind of information were you able to glean?” Selene is starved for information. She doesn’t like not knowing things, and this mystery has been haunting her since Red left her home. Red has never traveled the world, she’s lucky to have these strange new friends to keep her safe. And they’re lucky to have Red, to keep them calm and collected. 

“He didn’t really say much, just started attacking us. But...they’ve been ambushing our homes while we’ve been traveling.” Ecto’s fists clench as she remembers her desert. Buried in snow, frozen and left to shatter against the wind and waste. 

“They even made it into the End. Nothing as bad as this, though.” Avon looks around, the bony fingers of coral reaching out and grabbing at the strangers. Sick fish hide among the bleached coral, swimming past in weak flicks of their rotted tails. Even the drowned’s gurgles are foamed and gasping. Struggling to breathe the toxic water. Filter oxygen through the turbid water. 

Selene peeks into a small hovel, the roof a tangle of staghorn coral. No Red, but memories do whisper across Selene’s memory. The first time Selene followed Red underwater, they rested under this very coral while Selene recuperated from being pricked by a pufferfish. She remembers the vibrant blues and reds, intertwining in an intricate dance. The shafts of rippling sunlight blinding Selene. And illuminating the strange creature before her. Red looked so different underwater than when they first met. After he saved her from drowning. He was just another fish in the reef, a part of the ecosystem.

The coral is too different, too dead. Red wouldn’t hide here. Selene racks her head, trying to think like Red. If she were Red, where would she go? She would go into the darkest corner of the ocean, far away from everything. Selene sighs as she realizes where Red is. “I really didn’t want to drink more damned water breathing potions. Shit tastes like fucking ass.” 

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

“Red?” Selene’s soft voice warms across Red’s ears, stirring him from sleep. He didn’t realize he had fallen asleep, but he can still feel the swelling in his eyes and aching in his heart. Red glances over his shoulder, seeing three faces bobbing at the entrance of the small hole he’s squeezed into. Three concerned, pitying faces.

She turns back over, pulling herself into a smaller ball. She just wants to be left alone. Left to become another stone among the cavern, forgotten by time and life. A whine escapes her lips as someone grabs her by the tail and drags her from the dark corner. Selene’s conjured a warm, comforting orb of light, completely unaffected by the water surrounding it. Ecto releases Red from her grip, allowing her to sit up. Red buries her head into her arms.

“Red...I’m sorry about Mama Gummi. I can’t imagine losing someone like that.” Avon whispers, trying to comfort her friend. But she’s no good at this emotional stuff.

“What does it matter? There’s nothing left for me.” Red whispers. 

“There’s so much more for you, Red.” Selene whispers. “There’s us, and the remaining guardians at the monument.” 

“All the guppies. They need someone to teach them to swim.” Avon adds. Red can’t help but let a wavering smile appear on his face, remembering the baby guardians. Fresh from hatching, wiggling tiny bodies and even more tiny tails. “They need you just as much as you needed Mama Gummi.” 

“And you aren’t going to let her die in vain, are you?” Ecto questions. Red frowns. He hates that Ecto’s words rile him up. “These bastards must atone for wronging you. For destroying our home, killing your family.” 

Selene bites her lip. Red is hard to anger, but she knows well enough that crossing a kipling is not a good idea. And Red’s desire for vengeance can turn the kindhearted person into a sinister being.

 “And Mama Gummi wouldn’t want you to give up.” Red’s anger, her guilt fades as she hears Selene’s calm voice. Selene knows exactly what to say. All three move closer, cocooning Red in warmth. Bringing her back from the brink. Selene continues, seeing she has Red’s attention. “She would want to see you fix this problem. To be the hero not just for the monument, but to everyone. To do great things, because she knows you’re just as great.” 

Red doesn’t realize she’s being held by her friends, hugging her. Returning her to light, out of dark. She can’t give up. It would be what Mama Gummi wanted. She needs to be there for the rest of the monument, for the guppies orphaned by the plague. And she needs to make sure whoever did this, including Blu, pays tenfold for the suffering they caused this ocean. The lives it’s killed and ruined. Red wipes at his cheeks, despite tears being long gone. “We should take care of the babies.”

[elmidol]

The Shackles of Fate - Four

Dark Faerie Tale AU

Read on AO3

Read Chapter Three

Summary:  If one misses curfew it is not only their life that is on the line, but their very soul. You are unlucky enough to encounter the fallen faerie prince when you miss curfew. He decides to claim your soul for himself rather than turn it over to the Master he has been enslaved by. As you are drawn further into his world, you learn more of your own past and how it is connected to the stories of your childhood.

Pairing: Kylo Ren/Reader Ben/Reader

Warning: none for this chapter

The Shackles of Fate

Four

There was a dull throb directly behind your eyes, the first signs that you were developing a headache due to all that had been occurring since the previous night. This final revelation had been the icing on the cake, so to speak. Being in possession of Light magic should not have been an elusive bit of information; had there been no signs? You started to think of your history, your childhood. The sprite rolled over in his sleep, his back facing you. Governess Tico lifted her coffee to her lips though the expression of confusion did not change. She was giving you time to think, and you were grateful that it was in her nature to be patient. There was also the chance that Rose was coming to the conclusion that there truly was a sprite in her presence, or on the opposite side of that spectrum, that you were losing your mind.

 It brought to you a new question: even if Rose was unable to  see  the sprite, did that mean she was incapable of  feeling  him? You weighed your options in order to decide how to proceed. You locked gazes with the governess.

 Rose lowered the cup of coffee and set down the beverage as she tilted her head to the side. The two of you had been working in the same household for a handful of years. Governess Tico had a knack for reading your moods, although she was not always an expert on the reasonings for those emotions. For this occasion, Rose had followed the conversation and went from there. She pointed a lone finger at the palm of your hand, precisely where the slumbering faerie was curled. You nodded a single time. Rose pressed forward, slowly shifting the digit nearer. You could feel your pulse quickening. Fear started to envelop you. You could not allow Ben to be injured. Yet you  had  to know. Was that selfish?

 “Be gentle,” you said, a little more loudly than you had intended. Rather than appearing annoyed or insulted, Rose offered a gentle  I will . There was no underlying ‘you’re crazy’ to her tone. You had both lived through the first witching hour and thus were equally aware just how easily seemingly fictitious stories proved themselves to be reality. Rose kept her eyes locked with your face, ever observant to your expression; it was because of this that some of your worry began to fade.

 The moment that Governess Tico’s fingertip touched the moth-like wings of the faerie, she jerked her hand away and placed it instead over her mouth. You felt a jolt of elation. The other woman  could  feel the faerie. That joy quickly dissipated; you would have to be all the more careful when it came to how you handled the sprite. Rose seemed focused on the fact that you had proven yourself capable of Light magic. She asked the question that had run through your mind not long before: what was she?

 A second later, Rose continued with another question. “That’s the prince?” There was less skepticism than there was fear. Words began to spill from her so quickly that you were not quite able to follow. You did pick up a handful of terms, which informed you that the governess was swiftly recounting the tales of the faerie prince, his mother, and the demon king. At the mention of the imp king, you lifted your gaze from the sleeping sprite to again watch Rose.

 According to what Rose had said, Armitage Hux was rumored to have succeeded his father, Brendol. The younger Hux had always been resentful of the faerie prince due to Snoke’s interest in Ben. Imps believed themselves to be superior to both demons and faeries, namely the latter. While Snoke would have difficulty entering the human realm during the day because of the seal, if so pressed or summoned an imp could complete that task. King Armitage Hux would not hesitate in targeting the entire household if he learned that the cursed prince was present. Rose trailed off, staring blindly at the sprite in your hand.

 You had recognized the name of Brendol Hux. If memory served you correctly, that was the imp that, when summoned by rebellious teeangers, had tempted humans with more power. It was he who had paved the way for the demon king.

 Governess Tico lowered herself back into the seat that she had previously occupied. “If that really is the faerie prince then the tales are true.” You did not say anything, although you hoped that Rose would elaborate. Rose once more set the tip of her finger lightly against the sprite that she was incapable of seeing. “Do you remember the stories of the faeries that were referred to as  walkers of the sky ?” The faerie hero of legend, one known by the name Skywalker, had been a favorite character of yours when you had believed faerie tales were no more than stories. It had been written that he was the one to guard the seals that prevented demons from harming children. “I never believed the tale from my studies. That the legendary hero had failed in his task to train Ben in the art of seals, and that when the blood vow was made and the faerie queen was forced to curse her son… It’s said that the faerie hero vanished after witnessing his nephew’s soul torn in two.”

 You drew your hand closer to your body. You had nearly missed when realization dawned upon Rose, who uttered out the words  you missed curfew  so quietly that one may have mistaken the sentence for a simple exhalation. A part of you did not want to believe in the tales of Skywalker, not if it meant accepting that he had abandoned the task of protecting the human and fae realms. You wanted to rewind time and erase the last decade. With every passing minute there were more questions than there were answers. Stories proving to hold truths, albeit only in fractions.

 “The children won’t be safe here. Not with the prince, and not with a marked soul.” Rose was not being callous; you could hear the worry in your friend’s voice. You used the lull in the conversation to listen for Daen. There were no cries, not yet. You decided to utilize this time to tell Rose of your current predicament, and as you wrapped up your story, you asked if Rose would be opposed to ensuring the children were safe at night. “Of course! But you… you need to be careful. Do you remember the warnings?”

 Governess Tico did not wait for you to reply, opting to recite the nursery rhyme that Tolan and Tara would learn the following year when they reached the age of five.

  Though Skywalker’s seal protects the day,

These are the threats to come our way:

With demons and imps, they come at night;

Beware those armored black and white.

Of the prince, that darkened fae,

Tempted by light yet cursed to stay.

What once was whole, now in two;

The faerie prince may spare you.

Yet if from Snoke that prince does stray,

These then shall take your soul away:

The demon servants that all shall dread

Are those in armor dyed blood red.

 As you listened, you came to realize that you had forgotten it was said that the faerie prince could choose to defy Snoke, although the specifics had never been revealed. Did this apply only to those who had Light magic? Another question: had he ever chosen to spare a life before yours? Eyeing the slumbering Ben, you began to doubt that he had previously been successful in protecting those he did not wish to kill.

 “Those in red can only come at night, but the imps… If they have allies who discover your soul is marked, this entire household will be put in jeopardy.” Rose reached forward, this time setting her hand on your wrist. “I will read through the texts tonight after the children are asleep. You need to try to get answers from the fae, including  what  you are.”

 You silently wished that you had all of the stories memorized as your friend did. The issue with that came with the contradictions that existed among them. It had been reported by surviving family members that they helplessly watched their loved ones mistake fact and fiction then lose their souls. You had dutifully studied the stories that had been proven factual. Now you would have the advantage of speaking with the fae, both the prince and those who worked for him, when you were taken to their realm come the witching hour. There would be no such conversations for you with anyone in the human realm aside from Rose. Even there, you had to be careful. What Rose had said was correct; if someone learned that your soul was marked, it would serve to paint a larger target on the children.

 You would have discussed the situation more with Rose, along with delving more into your mysterious origins, had Governess Tico not been on a set schedule with the older children. The teenagers would be returning, which meant that they would be in earshot. That was not a risk you were willing to take, and you doubted that it was one Rose wanted to take either.

 Though there had been no cries from Daen, you decided to check on the infant after tucking Ben safely inside your pocket. You quietly entered the room, pushing open the door and peeking around before fully going inside. The light coos that came your way brought a smile to your face. You lifted him out of the crib, changed his diaper, and carried him down the stairs for a light lunch. Daen released a squeal of delight when you set the cut up banana pieces in front of him. He held the spoon in one hand, though he used the other to feed himself the fruit. You shook your head as you laughed. It had only been recently that Daen had taken to holding the utensil throughout his entire meal. You had noticed on more than a single occasion that he attempted to scoop up pieces. Given that they more often than not fell off the spoon before he could take a bite, Daen’s patience was easily used up.

 When it came time for him to eat the protein portion of his meal, Daen was content with you assisting him in going through the motions of scooping up the pieces and bringing them to his mouth. So as to not allow Daen to become frustrated, you did not discourage him when he grabbed for bites with his other hand. He was less receptive to the small lessons and exercises when grumpy. Of course, that was typical for infants.

 You lifted Daen into your arms as he held onto a sippy cup filled with milk when he had finished eating. It was time for him to have some fresh air. You grabbed the diaper bag that was prepared for these outings; inside were diapers, wipes, a handful of toys, and a blanket on which you would place him. Where Tara and Tolan loved the feeling of grass between their toes, their younger brother fussed at such contact. He did enjoy playing in sand and mud though, which amused the you.

 You read to the baby as he played with stacking cups. Those were his favorite toys along with similar puzzles that were age appropriate. Only when you heard a familiar bark did you set aside the  ABC  book illustrated with animals whose names began with each letter of the alphabet. BeeBee the Eighth, or BB-8 for short, loped into the yard. He chased after a ball that one of the twins had thrown. You were not certain which, as both Tara and Tolan were running after the dog. The canine’s owner was a short distance behind them. Poe flashed a grin while walking over to you.

 “Good afternoon,” the man said, and you returned the greeting before inquiring on the children’s behavior. “They were little angels, of course.” You chuckled at the hint of playfulness. The twins adored their cousin. They behaved more for him than they did their own father, although according to their late mother, that was normal for children to do. “Tara is enamored with faerie tales.”

 Poe lowered himself onto the ground beside you. You looked to the children as they played with the dog in the yard. “I try not to read those books to them. She enjoys looking at the pictures though.”

 “Easier times,” the Dameron male intoned. He had lost his mother the night of the first witching hour. “So many deaths. So many renditions of what happened… She believes the story that the faerie hero abandoned his nephew when the prince was tempted by the demon king.” You winced before you could stop yourself. That specific tale was your least favorite version of what had happened that night. Poe waved his hand in the air. “The one I found interesting was where Skywalker battled the transformed prince after he became the Master of the Knights of Ren.”

 You bit down on the insides of your cheeks. You were not particularly fond of that version either, namely due to its inclusion of Ben murdering his own father to create the blood vow.

 “It’s a strange one, though,” Poe continued. “Skywalker escaping with the last of Ben’s Light while the faerie queen protected the fae not bound to Ben from becoming involved in the vow. Do you think that means Skywalker took Ben’s power?”

 You shook your head as you uttered out that you did not know. A lie, one you felt a little guilty for telling. Your thoughts fell to the sprite in your pocket. Was he a separate entity from the dark faerie that had appeared before you? Had he been with the legendary Skywalker before that morning? Governess Tico was correct in saying that you needed to get some answers from Kylo. It was not a matter of saving only your own soul, but of protecting these children as well.

 That train of thought reminded you that it would be best if you did not discuss faeries with anyone for the time being. There was the chance that you would allow something to slip. While you believed that Poe would not do anything to endanger his cousins, it was not worth the risk of  him  accidentally revealing information. Things tended to spiral when it came to revealed secrets.

 Poe Dameron left along with BB-8 shortly before dinner was scheduled to be served. From there, things ran their usual course with the exception of Governess Tico tucking the youngest three into bed after their older siblings had retired for the night. If there was one morbidly positive aspect of the witching hour, it was that crime rates had lowered amongst the teenage population. They had little desire to miss curfew, namely if they had witnessed the aftermath of doing so. You listened to Rose speaking with Tara and Tolan, who were requesting that  miss  come up to ‘properly say goodnight’.

 It was nice to feel wanted and loved, however you were more concerned with one or both of them leaving their beds during witching hour. That worry faded when you heard your friend inform the twins that she would remain in the children’s room until the witching hour had passed.

 Your attention moved to other worries that you had temporarily pushed aside. Namely  what  you may have been descended from. The beings of the upper realm had been a passing interest. They had, to you as a child, been too benevolent to be real. The fae in stories had possessed both light and dark qualities, something that had made sense to you given that you lived with the Plutt family. To imagine that there were beings from the upper realm that were pure Light magic who refused to help those in need? It was painful for you. More painful now that you were aware one of your parents had come from that realm.

 You had pretended that your parents were important, that they had not chosen to abandon you. If what Rose said was true in regards to how magic had entered the human realm, it meant that at least one of them  had . They had not found you worthy enough to bring back to the upper realm.

 You stared at the tiny faerie that you had placed on your pillow in the exact spot you had found him that morning. One of the answers you wanted was to know if Kylo and Ben were two separate entities now or if one transformed into the other. Another thing, you thought as a scowl formed on your face, was  why  Kylo had seen it fit to knock you unconscious before taking you through the portal.

 You gently stroked the tip of her finger along the top of Ben’s head, ruffling his hair. “You had better give me some answers.” Though phrased as a demand, your tone was one of pleading. On your nightstand, the clock that had failed you the previous evening ticked and tocked in working order. You glanced at it periodically to keep track of the time. At nine he would arrive, you told yourself.

 Which is why you stifled a yelp of surprise at a quarter to the hour when a shadow moved in your peripheral. Your head whipped in the direction of the dark creature that rose from a crouch. Kylo was dressed in black robes as he had been the previous time, and his helmet blocked your view of his face. This was unfortunate, as you had hoped to utilize his facial expressions to offer you further information when you began asking the questions. The tiny faerie on your pillow did not fade, and thus arrived the first answer. The dark winged prince had literally had his soul torn into two when his mother had cursed him as a means of preserving that last of his light. Which, of course, meant that Kylo was not able to see the sprite.

 “I...packed a bag,” you said whilst gesturing to the aforementioned item. The helmet shifted, its visor pointed in the direction you had indicated. You utilized this time wisely, tucking the slumbering sprite into the pocket of your trousers; you did not often wear the clothing, as many considered such attire to be unladylike. Aside from aiding you in maintaining possession of Ben, the trousers would be easier to explore in once you reached the realm of fae. “I have a few questions.”

 “There is no time for that,” Kylo said in a bored tone.

 “Because of those armored in red?” The visor promptly left the packed bag to land on your face. You rose to your feet as you spoke, reciting the lines from the warning Rose had repeated earlier. “The demon servants that all shall dread/ are those in armor dyed blood red.”

 The dark faerie snorted in derision. “The upper realm is pretentious with their rhymes.” You felt your shoulders droop. You wanted to argue that the rhymes may have come from humans, however you were under the impression that this would hardly have made a difference in Kylo’s opinion. “The demon king’s praetorian guards—yes, they are the reason it would not be safe to leave you in a realm with a weaker seal.”

 There was the obvious question of  why do you want me safe  that existed on the tip of your tongue. You discarded it in favor of protesting being put to sleep when the faerie moved to gather dust from his wings. The leather-clad hand paused, and there emerged a strangled sound through the helmet’s vocoder. If not asleep, he informed you, then blinded in another way. You did not relish the fact that you were made to tie a thick cloth around your eyes. If you had not been growing more worried that your presence would endanger the children as witching hour approached, you may have argued. Blindfolded and clutching your bag in a manner that it did not press against the sprite in your pocket, you suffered the indignation of being lifted bridal style into Kylo’s arms even though you would have been able to walk just fine, thank you.

 In hindsight, you should have expected that a being of darkness was capable of small deceits even to those he vowed to protect. You mentally swore when you regained consciousness. Your hand instantly went to the blindfold, which you tore from your face. Your teeth were clenched together. A moment later, your jaw relaxed as you noticed Kylo crouching mere inches away with his hand extended towards your face.

 “Portals can be painful for those with human blood,” he said, his voice gentle. You were not certain if you completely believed him, however you were willing to be grateful if his deceit had been based on being merciful.

 You sat up, searching your surroundings and discovering that you had been laid across a bench in the garden that you had visited the previous night. Your bag was on the ground beside one of the legs. Heart stuttering in your chest, you surreptitiously slipped a hand into the pocket that held the sprite. Your finger caressed Ben’s cheek, which in turn caused Kylo to pull away the hand that had been near you to touch the side of his helmet. The same cheek you had touched on the sprite.

  They really are connected,  you thought with a renewed sense of awe.

 Kylo yanked his limb away from the helmet in unison with rising to his full height. “As I stated, you may play here while I fulfill my duties for the witching hour.” You opened your mouth to request that he wait. You tried to remember what questions would help you as well as Rose learn more of the situation. Before you could ask the first one, regarding  what  you were, Kylo took a step backwards. “I will return in time for you to ask those questions. Know this: I may refuse to answer them.”

 He was as vexing as you remembered him being. You started to shift your finger away from the slumbering sprite in order to withdraw your hand, however Ben rolled. From this new position you could feel a tiny hand touching your fingertip. Across from you, Kylo closed his hand into a fist before relaxing. The visor of his helmet pointed towards the ground. You waggled your finger gently to see if Ben would release it. He did not. Instead your actions served to brush along his chest. Kylo shuddered and took a step backwards in retreat. You idly wondered if he was ticklish. Debated whether or not he could sense that other half of his soul in your pocket. You meanwhile enjoyed the feeling of his warm touch on your finger.

 What Kylo had done to you the previous night, the memories that had heat seeping not only into your cheeks but throughout the rest of your body as well, coiling in the pit of your stomach, those touches had been different. It had been carnal. Enjoyable, yet less personable. In your pocket, Ben once more changed position in his sleep. His hand fell away from your finger and his wing brushed along the digit prior to wrapping around him like a cocoon. You took your hand out of your pocket and took a step in Kylo’s direction. He had shuddered again, his wings visibly twitching.

 “Will you answer just one question before you leave?”

 “Yes.” He took a step backwards in retreat. You could  hear  the smile on his lips when he had uttered that single response, and you instantly understood that he had counted that as the promised reply.

 Your nostrils flared when you huffed in frustration. The chuckle that left the dark faerie made your stomach flutter. It was deep and rich. It made you hope that Poe Dameron was wrong, that the story that said Ben had killed his father as a part of becoming Kylo hadn’t happened. You again reached into your pocket while watching the Master of the Knights of Ren walk away. His wings twitched and he shuddered when you gently stroked the sprite. His light was not destroyed. Just as he, for reasons yet unknown, had vowed to protect you, you found that you had the strong urge to protect his light.

 You had always done what you could to see the good in people despite unpleasant circumstances. Did that have anything to do with your parentage? Only once the dark faerie had completely left your line of sight did you withdraw the sprite from your pocket.

 “Well, little faerie, let’s see what answers we can find in the meantime.” You pulled the strap of your bag over your shoulder then set off down the garden path.

[fantasyinvader]

I kinda want to do a post on heel-face turns with regards to Edelgard. Specifically, those done by Kamen Rider over the last few years.

Let’s start with this year’s model, Gai Amatsu or as I like to call him Bitchboy.

What did he do? Well, in addition to owning an extremely punchable face when he got to work with his idol on creating a city where man and robots live together, Gai sabotagued the project because (due to his upbringing) he couldn’t accept the idealistic goals of the project. Instead, he only viewed it as a matter of profits. So, he showed the satellite that was supposed to oversee the city the worst of humanity. This taught the machine to hate humanity, believing they should go extinct, causing the city to end up at the bottom of a lake. However, some robots survived and went to form a terrorist cell...which Gai covertly aided.

Gai is the cause of everything that happens in the series, and once he’s introduced he proceeds to challenge Hiden Intelligence to a contest in order to take them over. The robots they create versus humans equipped with his Zaia Spec, a pair of glasses that allows hooks a person’s mind up to a computer. Gai initially talks about humanism and how the robots are just tools. However, he’s shown to cheat, drive the robots berserk in order to have an excuse to kill them, corrupt the hero’s belt so all he has is a transformation that sends him into a berserk rampage, reveals that he has chips in the brains of Fuwa and Yaiba to control them (in addition to wiping Fuwa’s memories and implanting traumatic ones to turn him against the robots) and does everything to turn people against the robots so he can sell both Zaia specs and weapons.

How does he turn into a hero? Well, after he won the contest and took over Hiden Intelligence, the show basically shat all over him. He lost time and time again, to weaker riders who were discovering their own dreams. His victory was all for nothing, but then when it was revealed the terrorist robots could hack not only Zaia specs but also Raidraisers and send people berserk, Gai decided to promote Raidraisers as a means to protect yourself. Even arranging to corrupt the code of the Zaia specs to make them even more hackable in order to drive up sales. The people working under him have enough and collect evidence of his wrongdoings to get him kicked out of his position.

At his lowest point, Gai reveals his backstory of having a father who told him he had to strive for not 100% but 1000%. He also gets reunited with the only friend he had, the AI of a toy dog he owned as a child. This dog acts as his morality pet and saw Gai turn to the heroes side...which everyone feels is just super weird, out of character, and still hold him accountable for all the shit he’s caused. The show doesn’t drop what he did, it just acknowledges there’s a bigger threat now.

Next up is Gentoku Himuro, from Kamen Rider Build.

Gentoku was present when an alien artifact from Mars activated, creating walls that split Japan into three countries as well as having an effect on his mind. He became more aggressive as a result. Wanting Japan reunified under his pacifist father, Gentoku founded Faust, a secret organization that created weapons in addition to human experimentation. He does a lot of scummy things, including triggering the war to reunify Japan, before he is exposed and his father disowns him.

In an attempt for more power, he is further experimented on. However, this clear up the effects of the alien light, causing him to return to his normal state of mind. He continues to fight because he is forced to due to a bomb planted in his head, and feels guilt over what he has done. Though he also still believes he’s doing this in the name of the greater good. It’s even in his Rider catchphrase.

"Be a sacrifice for the greater good!"

He eventually wises up to what’s really going on, and leaks information to the heroes. Eventually, the bomb is removed but his father ends up taking a attack for him, dying as a result. Since everything he did was to give Japan to the one person he believed should govern it, he falls into depression and ends up joining the heroes seeking atonement for all he’s done. He eventually begins to understand what his father believed, that the power of the leader comes from his people, and in the end sacrifices himself in order to weaken the final boss (see above).

Next up is everyone’s favorite meme, Kuroto Dan.

As a teenage game designer hailed as a genius, Dan discovered a version of the Y2K bug that could infect human beings through exposure, digitalizing them if they succumb to it. This included his mother. However, at the time a young boy sent fanmail to him, which included a few suggestions for what he’d like to see in the next game. This enraged Dan to the point of sending a game with the virus to the boy, turning him into Patient Zero to spread it among the population. This boy ended up being the series lead, Emu.

People ended up being digitalized because of this, in addition to some committing suicide. Dan made it a point to appear to fight this problem in addition to the video game characters coming to life and attacking people, creating the Kamen Riders. But in reality, it was all a ploy for him to collect data to make the greatest video game ever, Kamen Rider Chronicle. He also wanted to see Emu suffer, and killed/digitalized Kiriya (Kamen Rider Lazer), who was investigating what was going on, during the Christmas episode. Eventually, he was stopped by Emu using what amounted to a game shark, but the data was enough for the video game characters to begin Kamen Rider Chronicle so that they could kill humans in revenge for them being killed in their games.

Kamen Rider Chronicle saw people turn into pseudo-riders, able to fight the Bugsters. When one of them defeated all of the bosses, the final boss would appear and the player would be able to transform into Kamen Rider Cronus with more powerful abilities to defeat them. When the game is cleared, that player would be the hero of mankind and all the digitalized people would be released. However, once you start playing you end up infected with the virus, needing to seek out the bosses to keep yourself alive. If you lose, you end up digitalized. Tough, but Kuroto intended for the game to be clearable.

That is until his father came in, and attempted to use it to assert control over the world in addition to claiming Cronus for himself. This led to the heroes searching for and finding a backup of Dan’s data, allowing him to return and aide them (giving Emu his final form based off the stars in Mario along with a save option to stop Cronus from resetting things). This coincided with him declaring himself a genius and a fucking god, and his control freak tenancies made it so that he wanted the game to be cleared as it was intended.

However, they still held him accountable for what he did and at the end of the series was shown in digital jail for his crimes.

Finally, the former owner of the title of Bitchboy. Mitsuzane “Micchy” Kureshima

Micchy actually starts off on the Heroes side, as Kamen Rider Ryugen. A rich kid dancing with Kouta’s old group, Micchy looked up to Kouta and when Kouta was unsure if he wanted to continue as Gaim after nearly dying, Micchy used his family name to become Ryugen and aide him.

However, as time went on a dark side of Micchy emerged. He wanted Kouta to do as he wanted while Kouta was more prone to heroic actions. Micchy also discovered that one of the monsters Kouta killed was the leader of their dance group as he ends up under the wing of his brother, Takatora aka Kamen Rider  Zagetsu. Following his brother’s belief that they would have to make hard decisions in order to survive, Micchy ends up undermining Kouta and the other’s attempts to deal with the threat of Helheim.

However, when Kouta reveals to Takatora there may be an alternative to solving the problem rather than leaving most of humanity to die, Takatora wants to work with him on this. This angers Micchy as once again Kouta isn’t doing what he wants, and now his brother is as well. This leads to him attempting to kill his brother, assuming his identity and Zangetsu Shin, and attacking Kouta in disguise. As time passes, Micchy is shown to try and save those he wants, including the girl he likes.

He eventually gains even more power and seemingly kills his brother yet again. Then he attempts to kill Kouta, whose power is slowly turning him into a Overlord of Helheim. The girl he likes is killed from having her heart removed by the guy who told Micchy to kill Kouta, though she ends up gaining god-like powers from the McGuffin that was implanted in her heart.

In the end, Micchy has lost his friends, the girl he likes, Kouta and her go off to be gods on some distant planet while also saving Earth. Micchy has lost nearly everything, with the exception of his brother who barely survived the last fight. His brother helps him cope with what he’s done, and as the last person able to fight and transform Micchy resolves himself to be the hero Kouta was in atonement for his actions.

Trust me, Micchy’s fall to villainy is gradual and very well done.

These are characters who all, to varying degrees, go from villains to heroes. And these are all in children’s shows. But how does Edelgard make the transition? Simple.

She doesn’t.

Crimson Flower isn’t a route about Edelgard redeeming herself. Fuck no. Instead it’s about the player, after seeing all that she’s been a party to during the first half, deciding to join her. There’s no atonement from her, instead it’s all based on the idea that everything she’s done was right, while she argues some form fo the greater good. You absolved her of the events of part 1 by joining her, while part 2 implies there’s a whole bunch of shady stuff she’s keeping from you. You endorsed her actions during White Clouds, believing she wasn’t the heel but rather the face.

[ofaheadstronghealer]

Alma Bio

I know we have official bios but until that was posted I thought I’d temporarily post this to help with interactions, please feel free to message me if you have any ideas for plots or connections or what have you! :)

FULL NAME: Alma

AGE: 36

OCCUPATION: Healer/Slave

CHARACTER TRAITS: (+ Clever +Kind Hearted , -Headstrong - Insecure )

LABEL: The Phoenix

GENDER + PRONOUNS: Cis-female, she/her

BIO

(trigger warning: implied sexual assault)

Alma, an unusual name for an unusual girl. There has not been a moment in her life that could be described as ‘typical’ or ‘normal’, perhaps that is why for most of her life being normal had been something she’d craved so desperately until she would come to understand the true power in being different from the rest. Something her mother had always understood.

Alma was born a fatherless child. Not literally, of course, but in the sense that the man who is her father was not her mother's husband nor was his identity ever known to the girl or to the others in the village in which she grew up. Being branded a ‘bastard’ was her first taste of this ‘otherness’ that she would come to experience her whole life, being the daughter of a woman who was suspected by many of being a witch….well that certainly didn’t help matters. When Alma thinks on it now she finds proof that God has a sense of humor, how hard she fought to be unlike her mother and yet how like her she later became. Alma isn’t a witch, not one of the barbarians ‘Volvas’ or one of their ‘seers’, and neither was her mother before her but that mattered little to the townspeople she grew up around. They were pariahs for her whole childhood, ostracized by the community until one of their people needed a healer with skill unmatched by any other and then only under the most dire of circumstances would they accept them with open arms. Alma wouldn’t realize that until she was much older, a naïve thing desperate for acceptance she would bask in it no matter what the price for as long as it lasted. Sometimes at night she would kneel before her bed and pray, pray to god to show the truth of her innocence to the people so that she might live among them as kin and not be regarded with such fear. The first time God answered her prayers she was but the tender age of 14 and she was shown his power...as well as his cruelty. Had she known the price that God would make her pay for her freedom she would have been more specific in her prayers, would have extended the prayer to her mother as well but alas she was selfish as children so often are and did not think of such things. A life for a life, her mother's death for her freedom. She still remembers the way her mother’s hand felt upon her cheek before they brought her to the pyre, remembers the tremble in her voice as, for the last time, her mother told her that she loved her. Alma was forced to bear witness to her mother's death, forced to stand there as she was engulfed in flame and pleading for her life. Suddenly acceptance didn’t matter so much to Alma, all she wanted in that moment was her mother back. 

The years following her mother's passing were difficult in many ways and brought many changes, on one hand she was welcomed back into the community as a show of the villagers' mercy but on the other she was an orphaned girl with no family and no prospects. Her mother had not raised her as a proper lady, she was not educated in the things a girl should be and though everyone around her agreed she was beautiful she was far too clever and her reputation too marred to make a suitable wife for anyone ‘such a waste of a beautiful girl’ they’d mutter as though that were supposed to make Alma feel appreciated. Perhaps other women if put in her position would have simply bowed to fate but not Alma, she had too much of her mother in her for that. If she had no use as a wife then she would find another way to have use, to make herself indispensable so she could not be so easily cast aside. In what she would later realize was a bold move she became a healer like her mother before her though unlike her mother she was more careful in how she was perceived, cautious to never show up the men around her, to curb her clever tongue, and to never perform acts that could be considered miracles and later used against her. She couldn’t really say in any sincerity that she was truly happy but it was as close as she’d ever gotten, she was valued and though people looked at her sometimes with pity it was better than the terror she had become accustomed to in her youth. If only she’d been able to save her mother than perhaps it would have been perfect. Alma lived this way in the village for many years, alone but accepted as much as she could be. That all changed the day they showed up. 

The day of the raid was like any other, Alma had been making her rounds attending to the villagers when she heard the screams. At first the healer thought it was simply in her head, it wasn’t unusual for the painful memory to surface; it had been haunting her for years, but it grew in its volume and intensity and soon it became clear to her that they were not the screams she remembered hearing as a child. Of course they’d all heard of the Vikings and their ways, how they would often raid and pillage and kill everything in sight, but as every other town did they never thought they would be targeted. She was still in the house of a patient when it happened, the person too weak to realize what was going on and certainly too weak to fend for themselves. Alma is no saint, she will not deny if asked that there was a moment when she simply considered running and trying to save herself but one look at the pathetic state of the woman laying there and her mind was purged of that thought. She could not abandon her. Alma helped the other woman to the back of the house, hid both herself and the woman in a dark pantry not easily seen and for the first time in a very long time Alma prayed ‘Please God protect us, see us through this, save us’. God answered Alma much like he had the time before, granting her her wish but always with a twist. The Vikings that crashed through the house at first appeared as though mindless beasts that had not the capacity to think beyond destruction and for just a moment Alma thought herself and the woman safe. She was made aware of how wrong she was when rough hands tore her from the safety of the pantry, a foreign tongue that she couldn’t understand flooded her ears but she understood the tone well enough. The only thing that got her through the assault that followed was the sight of the other woman, frail but still hidden. Safe. 

Alma doesn’t remember much about the journey that led her to Hedeby, she tries not to think about it. She can recall her captors dragging her back to show the horde their prize, remembers her feeble escape attempt just before they threw her on one of their boats. The rest of the voyage was not memorable, she kept her head down as much as possible on the boat and simply listened. Though she could not understand all of what was being said at some point in the journey she managed to make out that they were going to one of their cities, a place they called ‘Hedeby’. Alma was not certain what to expect, what would become of all those they had taken including herself? Would they be killed? Sold? The thought was frightening but she did not let it overwhelm her, simply continuing to listen and do as the Vikings bid. When Alma was brought to what appeared to be an open market in chains with the others she stood silently as they were inspected by the market goers. As time passed and the other villagers were distributed it became clear to the healer exactly the position she was in, she had always been a slight thing and while that had not been looked at negatively back home it was becoming clear that as a slave she was probably the most unappealing of the bunch. Death, it seemed, would be the escape that God would deliver her. It was not to be so. Much to her own surprise she was bought by what appeared to be a family of little means meaning that they had little to trade and therefore she was the only one they could afford, the man looked brutish, as they all did, but was not unkind in his handling of her. She was in their service for a few years, quietly observing the customs and language of these strange people with whom she now resided, but knew it would not last, she was a healer not a farmer and unsuited for the physical labour demanded of her and every day she grew weaker. It was a miracle of God when one day as she was working the fields a man emerged from the forests and collapsed before her clearly wounded, it was pure instinct when Alma leapt into action. Over the next few days there grew a small gathering of Vikings who watched as she tended to the man, they appeared intrigued by her methods some of which were unknown to them. Unknown to Alma the man she eventually ended up saving was someone that the King of these Vikings held as a very dear friend, King Ragnar demanded Alma be brought to him at once. Alma entered the great halls of the Viking King with the family that had bought her but she did not leave with them, word spread not long after of the healer from a foreign land who was now under the ownership of the King. 

That was many years ago and much about Alma has changed, she still bears the status of slave under King Ragnar and his family but as their personal healer she is treated with a great deal more respect than most slaves. Though sometimes she finds herself longing for the familiarity of her old home Alma has managed to settle somewhat among the Vikings and has found respect for some aspects of the way they live their lives and is, in some ways, more herself here than she ever was back at home.

EXTRAS

- Due to how her mother died and having been forced to watch it Alma has a deep and intense fear of fire. 

- She can fully understand the Vikings language but she still cannot fully speak it

- When first she arrived at Hedeby Alma was incredibly quiet but since being raised to the royals personal healer and over the years becoming more settled she has let more of her true personality come through, she has a clever tongue and a headstrong nature and does not feel she’s in such a precarious position anymore that she must hide those things though she is still cautious with who she shows it to

- Although she acts like she’s over the whole wanting to be accepted and loved thing she is very much not over it and longs for a feeling of home and belonging and love.

- At first she hated the Vikings and saw them as brutes and barbarians but now for the most part she has let go of that view though there are still moments where she considers them beasts

- One of the first things she noticed and loved about the Viking culture was how they treated their women, coming from a place where she was only looked at as a thing of value through marriage and the fact that she had a brain frowned upon she was secretly impressed at the freedoms Viking women were afforded.

[aion-rsa]

Marvel’s WandaVision Episode 8: MCU Easter Eggs and Reference Guide

https://ift.tt/eA8V8J

This article contains WandaVision episode 8 spoilers and potential spoilers for the wider MCU.

“You didn’t think you were the only magical girl in town, did you?” 

Agatha Harkness makes good on that line from last week’s episode in WandaVision episode 8, which functions as a trip through Wanda Maximoff’s entire MCU history. Not only does it reveal previously hidden (and crucially necessary) depths to her character and her relationship with Vision, but it successfully adds new elements to her established origin story. These new wrinkles pull from Wanda’s entire Marvel history, and have massive implications for magic users and even mutants in the MCU going forward.

Here’s what we found…

Sitcom Influences

Among the bootleg DVDs Wanda’s father is selling we can see Bewitched, Malcolm in the Middle, I Love Lucy, Who’s the Boss?, I Dream of Jeannie, and The Addams Family, all of which have been major touchstones for WandaVision throughout its run. But Wanda’s favorite? That would be The Dick Van Dyke Show.

The Dick Van Dyke Show episode that the Maximoffs watch is season 2 episode 21 “It May Look Like A Walnut”, or as Wanda’s dad calls it “the walnut episode!” This installment finds Rob Petrie (Van Dyke) staying up late to watch a spooky sci-fi movie on TV, while his wife Laura (Mary Tyler Moore) tries to ignore it because it freaks her out. In the movie, aliens from the planet Twilo come to Earth in disguise to slow down humanity’s development by feeding us walnuts that contain the chemical element “absorbitron.” The walnuts take away our creativity and our thumbs – the two things that get us into outer space to challenge their Twiloian supremacy. The next day, walnuts seem to be the only food that Rob can find. He comes to believe that Laura is either playing a trick on him, or that the Twiloites have really invaded.

Why would WandaVision go out of its way to mention this episode in particular? Well, Wanda can certainly empathize with a protagonist who comes to believe his world is fabricated. And Marvel Phase 4 does seem destined to spend quite a bit more time in space.

The scene of Malcolm in the Middle that Vision watches but doesn’t quite understand has Hal build a deck, only for it to collapse on him. In the third WandaVision episode intro, Vision builds a swingset, only for it to suddenly collapse in front of him.

Wanda’s father sold DVDs as a trade and even had a Malcolm in the Middle box set in there. That’s pretty damn impressive, since he was killed by that bomb in 1999 and the show didn’t start airing until early 2000. That’s some Spaceballs VHS technology right there!

While at the HYDRA facility, Wanda watches The Brady Bunch. The episode appears to be season 1’s “Kitty Karry-All Is Missing.” When Cindy Brady’s beloved Kitty Karry-All goes missing, she thinks her brother Bobby stole her. The Bradys have a trial and everything! But it turns out the Bradys’ dog Tiger actually took Kitty Karry-All. Perhaps that’s why Agatha needed Sparky out of the way – dogs are unpredictable.

Wanda’s assurance that “He’s not really injured. It’s not that kind of show” is as much a commentary on superhero storytelling in both comics and in movies as it is about sitcoms.

Agatha Harkness

Kicking things off with an Agatha Harkness origin story is an inspired move…

Placing Agatha’s origin in witch-trial era Salem in 1693 ends up being a little piece of misdirection. She’s not on trial for being a witch, but rather by her own coven for seeking too much power. 

We get a sense of Agatha’s family here, with Agatha’s mother leading the coven against her while Agatha is still just a young witch. This doesn’t match her comics origin, where she was already centuries old by the time the Salem Witch Trials rolled around – she is old enough to remember Atlantis being above water. In the comics, she was a leader of the Salem community when the trials began. 

Agatha’s mother’s name is Evanora Harkness. She doesn’t appear to have a counterpart in the comics.

The Latin chant that the witches are repeating appears to be “mors monstru naturale” which would translate to “natural death is a monster,” which…given Agatha’s seemingly immortal nature, tracks pretty well.

The magical “crown” of energy that appears on Agatha’s mother’s head very faintly resembles the headgear that Wanda wears in the comics as the Scarlet Witch. Granted, it’s blue here.

Agatha’s use of “purple energy” may be the most damning sign of her intentions yet. In comics, purple is often coded as the color of villains.

We also learn the origin of the brooch Agatha has been wearing all through this series, with Agatha having taken it off her mother’s corpse. 

In the final scene with Agatha and the twins, she floats above them and holds them at will like marionettes. This is probably a reference to Master Pandemonium, whose reveal made the children look like hand puppets…except they were his actual hands.

Because comics!

Let’s dig into some of the spells Agatha says…is one of them “crystallum possession”. I also definitely heard an Imperio something in there, which calls to mind the Imperius curse from TERF High Harry Potter. The Imperius curse allowed the witch or wizard to control the victim’s body like a puppet.

The Scarlet Witch

Hoo-boy, we get a LOT of Wanda’s comics lore introduced in this episode…

This episode makes it pretty clear that Wanda was born with her abilities and that Strucker’s experiments merely amplified them. Should we officially welcome mutants to the MCU? If her powers were latent, then perhaps so were Pietro’s. The fact that Strucker’s experiments killed all the subjects except for Wanda and Pietro could be seen as further evidence of their mutant heritage.

We get some very different explanations of Wanda’s magical powers than we’ve had in the past, all via Agatha, and all of them referencing various ways Wanda’s powers have been explained in the comics in the past.

Why didn’t that Stark Industries bomb explode and kill Wanda and Pietro? She may have unknowingly cast a “probability hex” on it. For many years Wanda’s “magical” powers were explained as a mutant ability to alter the probability of outcomes, no matter how unlikely.

Later, it was revealed that she was a master of “chaos magic,” another term introduced here. Furthermore, now it seems that being able to wield chaos magic gives Wanda a specific magical title, that of “Scarlet Witch.” We…do not have to tell you where that comes from.

The vision (sorry) that the Mind Stone gives Wanda would appear to be one of her future, fully Scarlet Witch-ified self. This particular costume, which evokes a long jacket and crown, is very similar to the one she’s worn in the most recent Marvel Comics.

When Agatha finally discovers that Wanda is the Scarlet Witch, she says that the Scarlet Witch was supposed to be “a myth.” Big Buffy the Vampire Slayer vibes in this exchange! Buffy often faced off against foes who once thought she was just a fairytale created to spook demons and nothing more.

Agatha’s “That accent really comes and goes, doesn’t it?” is a terrific joke at the MCU’s expense. As well as her “so many costumes and hairstyles” also feels like a nod to Wanda’s changing looks in the comics just as much as it is about the chameleon-like nature of the WandaVision universe.

Vision

The scene of Wanda coming across the disassembled remnants of Vision’s body in the SWORD lab is taken from West Coast Avengers #43 into #44. Instead of dying heroically, Vision was taken out of commission by the world’s governments for trying to take over all of the world’s computers. He was reduced to nothing but metal and circuitry in order for writer John Byrne to drive home Vision’s lack of human biology. 

That disturbing scene of Vision being “dissected” with his body stretched out across multiple tables is a direct nod to a panel from those comics.

It also reminds us a little of how Thanos had Nebula pulled apart in Avengers: Endgame. At least Vision is offline!

Vision was then resurrected in the white form that we see here in the mid-credits scene, and brought back without his emotions or any connection to his past life as Wanda’s husband or Billy and Tommy’s father. This was one of the catalysts for Byrne sending Wanda into her Dark Scarlet Witch phase that abruptly ended when Byrne stormed off of West Coast Avengers for the cardinal sin of “being edited.” For more on this, type “Why did John Byrne” into Google and let autocomplete take you on a fun ride.

We’ll have more on White Vision in just a moment.

The Stark Bomb

The toaster commercial from the first episode was always supposed to be a reference to the Stark Industries bomb that tore apart the Maximoff household. That commercial also had the blinking red light of the toaster show up despite everything else being in black and white. We now see that the bomb itself had a very similar blinking red light and sound.

The popular running theory was that the commercials tracked to the different stones, and while that may still be applicable, do they also/instead track to Wanda’s memories or key parts of her life? 

We saw the toaster match up with the blinking light on the bomb.

We know the watch had the Hydra face on it. Could this match if future Wanda floating in through the stone was actually a paradox and not just a vision?

The paper towel commercial mentioned Lagos too prominently to not pair with that moment of trauma.

Does the fruit snack commercial match up with her conversation with Vision in the Avengers compound?

The anti-depressant commercial does track fairly well with Wanda’s visit to SWORD.

It feels like the only one that doesn’t have an obvious pair is the tesseract bubble bath. Give us a shout in the comments if you can figure out what that matches to.

Westview

When Wanda drives through Westview for the first time, she passes by the normal versions of Herb (John Collins), Mrs. Hart (Sharon Davis), and Phil (Harold Proctor). Notably, Harold is putting up an ad for piano lessons when in the second episode, playing the piano was his talent. It’s also when Wanda magically turned his grandmother’s piano into an illusion.

As Wanda transforms Westview, we see a billboard for “Super” paper towels become “Lagos” brand paper towels (ala the commercial from earlier this season), which “makes cleanup a snap!”

When the Coronet theater marquee transforms, it’s showing two Walt Disney Productions films of the appropriate WandaVision episode 1 era, Kidnapped and Big Red. But before that it’s showing Tannhauser Gate. Roy Batty, call your agent, please.

Fake Pietro

It’s revealed that “Pietro Maximoff” was indeed a complete fake. A “Fietro” as Agatha calls him. He became her “eyes and ears” and she refers to his manifestation as “a crystalline possession.” We sense there will be more revealed about this in the finale, as Evan Peters has been M.I.A. since his appearance in last week’s post-credits scene.

The Post-Credits Scene and White Vision

In West Coast Avengers #45, Vision’s personality was wiped completely, so by the time he was reassembled, he appeared as “White Vision”. He completely lacked emotion and didn’t even understand why Wanda was hugging him upon entering the room. This became the status quo version of Vision for a while until his old personality, look, and feelings for Wanda were eventually brought back. But hey, this version got to be a playable character in the 1991 arcade hit Captain America and the Avengers!

cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });

What are the chances that White Vision will have James Spader’s voice?

We wrote more about that post-credits scene here.

Spot anything we missed? Let us know in the comments!

The post Marvel’s WandaVision Episode 8: MCU Easter Eggs and Reference Guide appeared first on Den of Geek.

from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/2Pb5kUp

[realm-sweet-realm]

Like it Never Happened: Chapter 3.

This is a post ink-hell story, and contrary to its title, a major theme in it is that a return to normalcy is an uphill climb, often requiring one redefine what normalcy means to them.

This chapter focuses on Thomas Connor and Allison Pendle. It deals with some of the mechanics of how the trapped souls are making it out. There may be a fourth or possibly fifth chapter, but I’m not sure.

Jennifer Adams, one of the soldiers tasked with the rescue of the dozens of people whose souls were locked within the sketch dimension, had fucked up big time. To be more specific, she’d shot Allison Angel.

Not that shooting ink creatures in general was a big deal- you couldn’t collect an ink creature’s soul without killing them- but in Allison’s case, she and her partner, Peter Felman, should have been making a good rapport with her. While they were free to capture the souls in any order they found them, their first priority was to locate and bring back the soul of Thomas Connor, a mechanic who had been indispensable in designing and building the machine, and would no doubt be a valuable source of information on it. In Jennifer’s defense, another Alice had broken her last partner’s arm and put him out of commission just days before, not to mention all the trouble she’d caused back when they were solely tasked with finding the souls of lost ones, as the government research branch only recently discovered how to bring back those who were transformed into cartoons.

Right after she’d shot her, Peter had instinctively taken out the seeing tool in order to see her soul, and had snatched it up and put it into a small glass jar. Then, realizing whose soul they’d just snatched, he opened the jar and let it flow back to the ink machine, as all souls did down here.

All Jennifer could hope for now is that they could get the angel to speak using torture. She and Peter had been waiting by the ink machine for a few hours, playing cards, when it finally gurgled to life.

The two soldiers got up from their card game, Peter taking a rope with him. Allison came out slowly- it was almost like seeing a person be 3D-printed. Peter was incredible with knots, and her calves (already kicking!) were tied together within seconds of their appearance from the machine’s nozzle. Half a minute later, she fell to the ground, and Peter was tying up her arms as Jennifer held her down.

“Let me go! Why are you doing this?” she yelled, still struggling against the ropes, teeth gritted.

“Sorry about this, but we need to make sure you won’t run away or attack us. We aren’t here to hurt you. We are soldiers working for the US military, and we are the reason why there are no lost ones in this world anymore. We released them all. They are currently living outside this dimension, in a better, safer world. We understand that you’re very close with a Boris named ‘Tom.’ Is that true?”

“Why should I trust you or tell you anything?” Her tone was more curious than anything. At very least, she’d calmed down surprisingly quickly.

“I’d like for you to do that because we’re offering you a way out. But if you want to do things the hard way, we can.” Jennifer took out her handgun and pointed it to Allison kneecap.

“Wait-” Allison interjected, “What is that?”

“A gun.”

“No... I mean its colour. It’s like black, but lighter, and... and cooler somehow. I think Henry told me about this once. Is it blue?”

Jennifer kept the gun trained at her knee. “Yes. Now are you talking or are we going to have to make you talk?”

“I’ll talk. I don’t know how I didn’t see this before! You’re so detailed... and your hair almost matches my skin- just like Henry. You must be from the outside. Whatever you need to know, I’ll tell you!”

“Where is Tom?”

“He’s probably in our safehouse. It’ll be easier if I show you.”

Jennifer looked over to her partner, and they silently agreed to untie her legs. They followed behind her, guns still drawn, her sword still confiscated, her hands still bound.

“Do you mind if I ask a few more questions as we walk?” Allison asked.

“I can’t guarantee that I’ll be able to answer them, but go ahead,” Jennifer replied.

“Well, I know that you’re letting everyone go, but aside from Tom, there’s one case that I was hoping you could focus on. You see, one of the people turned into a cartoon character is... well, a 17-year-old kid. Tom and I found the book he wrote. We tried finding him a couple times, but came up empty. I hate to think about him, all alone in this dangerous place. If I give you the book, can you promise me to try and find him quickly, and to let me know when he’s revived and reunited with his mother?”

“Well, not all of that is my directive, but I can promise you that I’ll try to find him, and that I’ll ask the appropriate people about the rest of that stuff.”

Allison’s whole face lit up. “Thank you! Oh, thank you. And for releasing us, too. I would be hugging you if I weren’t walking you through dangerous territory with my hands tied up!”

Jennifer smiled. She’d had a lot of encounters with ink creatures, but she’d never been thanked before. She’d never even been able to explain their aims before.

“Next question: am I poor? Buddy made being poor sound pretty bad. But, I don’t remember anything about the life I had before this. I... did have one, right? It seems like all toons did... right?”

“Well, almost all- and trust me, you’re not an exception. Memory loss is extremely common among ink creatures- they have ways of getting everything back. You’re Allison Connor, the wife of Thomas Connor. I don’t know anything else about you- I was just told enough to get through this mission. But I imagine that his work puts you above the poverty line, anyhow.”

Allison had apparently forgotten all about matters of poverty and spent the rest of their short trip gushing about being married to Thomas.

Once they reached the safehouse, Allison kept Tom from tearing their throats out and told him the good news. The room was quickly filled with feelings of celebration and camaraderie. They handed Jennifer a book entitled, “Dreams Come to Life.” Then, when their inky backs were turned, Jennifer and Peter filled Tom and Allison with bullets and collected their souls. It had been nice to be honest for once, but they couldn’t have been too honest about the process of coming back to life. Afterwards they immediately headed back to the surface to hand Thomas Connor’s soul over to the researchers, as had been their protocol.

---

A day later, Thomas Connor fell out of the ink machine, landing on his feet. The blue mat he’d fallen onto told him what had happened before he could even look at his detailed, brown, ungloved hands. Thomas collapsed to the floor, overwhelmed with relief.

Over the next few hours, Thomas filled the researchers in on everything he knew about the machine. They told him plenty as well- for starters, that Allison would come out of the machine the next day and would be entirely restored and ready to go home, and that they would immediately see about contacting Buddy’s mother. They found him a place to sleep for the night, handed him a pamphlet on his new body, and he was on his way.

Everything was fine now. Thomas had spent over a decade stewing in guilt over what damage his machine could have possibly caused, and he’d spent a year and a half seeing it first hand- the lives cut short and locked in this hellish landscape. That was over now. The damage was going to be repaired the best it could be. Who knew- maybe the government would even find a beneficial use for the ink machine: bringing back endangered species, making prosthetic limbs... there were obvious bad uses for it, too, but hey, none of it would be his fault. The ink machine was no longer on his shoulders, and soon, he and Allison would be back in their lovely California home, going back to their mundane, contented lives.

Then, the phone rang. Thomas picked it up. “Hello?”

“Hello. Is this Thomas Connor?” The voice sounded sympathetic. Bad sign.

“Yes.”

There was a heavy sigh. “I’m afraid I have two pieces of bad news. Firstly, Buddy’s mother died several years ago. He has no living family members.”

“Okay,” Thomas said, voice low. Well, he knew that not all the damage he’d done could be undone. The kid had lost the time he could have had with his mother. Fair. “What’s the second part?”

“We won’t be able to bring back Allison’s memories. Usually disentangling the individual from their other presence- in this case an Alice Angel toon- brings everything right back. Well, we did, but she still doesn’t remember anything from before her sacrifice. Her memories weren’t stored away where she couldn’t find them- they’re gone like erased marker off a whiteboard. I’m sorry. We have social workers who could hook her up with a living relative, if you want. Do you still want to take her home with you?”

“Of course I do!” Thomas yelled, furious both at the situation and at the question. “She’s my wife! She was my wife in the sketch dimension, and she’ll still be my wife now!” With that, Thomas slammed the phone down. Of course Joey would have taken this from him. He was sure that it was nothing personal- he had a sense that Allison had known things even he didn’t about that machine. Still, it hurt.

But, all they could do was try to carry on. The next day, Thomas watched Allison emerge from the ink machine. He was the first thing she saw in the real world.

“Hey, Allison. This is Tom.”

Allison stared at him a moment. “You aren’t Tom. I would remember my own husband- I don’t know who you are.”

Thomas nodded. “Yeah. You aren’t getting your memories back. I’ll explain why later. But anyhow, let’s go home.

It had been too long since he’d seen her true form. And Allison seemed to like it, too. The two of them flew back to California soon after. Thankfully, Allison did at least seem to remember most things about how the world worked- perhaps due to Alice, who’d had her memories of living in her cartoon world to draw on. What’s more, their house was still waiting for them- apparently Allison’s relatives hadn’t or had only recently given up the hunt for them. Eighteen months of dust covered all the surfaces, and the plants in the garden had all either overgrown or died, but Thomas was still grateful that they had been gone more briefly than most and could pick up their lives more easily. There was so much to do- relatives to call and say, “hey, I’m alive!” to topped the list. But that could wait until tomorrow. Today, it was late. As the two settled into bed, Allison said,

“Hey. I know this is going to take a lot of patience from you. But I’m going to try to be just like Allison was, alright? Tell me about her tomorrow. She has a nice body, and good taste in homes and husbands. That’s a good start.”

Thomas laughed a little. “Sure. Glad you like what she has, since you can’t exactly trade. I’ll do my best, too, with the readjusting. That’s a promise.”

[thejakeformerlyknownasprince]

Hell is For Children: Animorphs as Children’s Lit

[Guest post from Cates!]

So a couple of months ago Bug asked me to write a post about why Animorphs is Middle Grade/Children’s Fiction, not Young Adult. Since she asked, I’ve read several wonderful posts from other people questioning or explaining what the difference is between Middle Grade and Young Adult, where Animorphs fits, and why it matters. Here’s my two cents as a children’s literature scholar.

To start, Animorphs’ 20,000-30,000 word count per book is a big hint it’s not YA fiction. Obviously, a book with a low word count is not automatically a children’s book, and a book with a high word count is not automatically a book for adults. But if Animorphs was aimed at teens, Applegate would likely have been expected to make the books longer. While there are a lot of great YA novels that are as short as or shorter than your average Animorphs book (check out BookRiot’s list of 100 YA novels under 250 pages,) most YA series, and especially fantasy or scifi YA series, are expected to top 100,000 words. (The three books in the Diviners series by Libba Bray have a total wordcount of 520,000 words; Laini Taylor’s Daughter of Smoke and Bone trilogy tops 400,000 words, for example.)

Animorphs’ word count isn’t enough on its own to exclude the series from YA classification, but Animorphs’ short word count also fits the trend of children’s—not YA—series fiction in the 1990s. In order to understand this trend, and why it produced books specifically for children, not teens, we need to jump back in time to WWII. Because so many American men were drafted into the military, women took over jobs that had been almost exclusively done by men, like mechanics, sales, electricians, etc. When WWII ended, thousands of men returned home, but women didn’t leave the workforce. Realizing they had an excess of young men and not enough jobs, the US government created the GI Bill, allowing soldiers to attend college for free or at a steeply reduced cost, thus stemming the influx of workers and giving the economy and industry room to grow.

At the same time, families were having children (and those children were surviving) at an unprecedented rate. Thanks to the GI Bill, college was no longer something reserved for wealthy white men, but something available to the middle and even lower class. A college education offered social and economic mobility, and the Baby Boomers, children of the GI Bill recipients, became the first generation to grow up with the idea that college was something that could and should be pursued by all.

Then, the Baby Boomers began having children in the late 1970s through early 1990s, meaning a large chunk of those children (including Bug and I) were in elementary school in mid 1990s to early 2000s. Thanks to their parents, a higher percentage of American adults than ever before had attended college. Thanks to advancements in women’s medicine, psychology, sociology, and education, among other fields, people understood as never before the importance of instilling a love of reading in children at a young age. The huge middle class was willing to invest lots of time and money in their children’s educations, because at this point not having a college education was seen as a barrier to success.

I’m sure you can see where this is going. (Kidding).

Children’s publishing exploded in the 1990s because children—or, more accurately, their parents—were seen as a huge, untapped market. Previously, children’s publishing didn’t receive as much money or attention because, the logic went, children did not have money and therefore couldn’t buy books. But then the publishing industry realized that there were literally millions of parents willing to spend money on their children’s education, and publishers like Scholastic, Dutton, Dial, Penguin, Random House, and others rushed to take advantage of this new customer demographic.

Of the ten books featured on this Scholastic bookfair poster from 2000, seven are series fiction.

Serialized fiction—ie, stories that took place over the course of several books about the same characters and/or in the same setting—was the perfect way for publishing houses to capitalize on this new market. And hoo boy was it successful. From 1993 to 1995, Goosebumps books were being sold at a rate of approximately 4 million books a month. That means roughly 130,000 books were sold every day.

Here’s a few names to bring you back: Bailey School Kids, The Magic Treehouse, Babysitter’s Club, Junie B. Jones, Encyclopedia Brown, Cam Jansen, Horrible Harry, Secrets of Droon, The Magic Attic Club, A Series of Unfortunate Events, Bunnicula, The Boxcar Children, The American Girls, Amelia’s Notebook, Dear America, Wayside School, Choose Your Own Adventure…we could keep going for days. All of those series have two things in common: one, they were either published between 1985 and 2005 and/or experienced a huge resurgence in the 90s, and two, they’re all middle grade novels. Some are aimed at younger children, like Junie B. Jones and The Magic Treehouse, and some are aimed at older children, like the Dear America series and A Series of Unfortunate Events.

The point is, Animorphs is so clearly a product of its time (and not just because of the Hansen Brothers references,) it slots perfectly into the trend of series fiction for children. If you want to claim Animorphs is YA, you also need to claim all of the series I just listed above.

Now, let’s talk about the main argument I see in favor Animorphs being YA: the dark content.

This is my personal wheelhouse. I’m planning on someday doing my PhD dissertation on trauma, violence, war, and trauma recovery in Middle Grade—not YA—fiction. I always find it funny when people use descriptors like cute, sweet, innocent, silly, light, and simple to describe children’s books. While there are certainly plenty of children’s books that are one or more of those things, there are also dozens that are the polar opposite—dark, complex, serious, violent, and deep. I once read a review of The Golden Compass which said “it’s not like other children’s books with a clear cut good guy and bad guy and a simple message.” I don’t know how many children’s books the author of the article had read, but I’m guessing not a lot. Let’s just do a blunt reality check with a few of my favorites—including some picture books which are typically for an even younger audience than Middle Grade. Spoilers for all of the books I’m about to mention.

Baseball Saved Us by Ken Mochizuki This book follows a little boy who is sent to a Japanese interment camp during WWII. He and his family deal with abuse, starvation, and sickness. Suggested reading age*? Kindergarten and up.

*(For this and all subsequent books I used reviews from Kirkus, the Horn Book, and School Library Journal to determine suggested reading age.)

Check out this picture of Shorty playing baseball while an armed soldier watches him from a guard tower. Isn’t it cute, sweet, and innocent?

Pink and Say by Patricia Polacco Pink and Say are 15-year-old boys serving as Union Soldiers during the Civil War. Confederate Soldiers kill Pink’s mother, Pink and Say become POWs, and Pink is hanged because he is African American. Suggested reading age? First grade and up.

Fox by Margaret Wild This book starts grim and just gets grimmer. Dog and Magpie have been burned in a wildfire. Dog loses an eye, Magpie a wing. Magpie rides on Dog’s head—she is his eyes, he is her wings. Fox comes and convinces Magpie to leave Dog and come with him. There are definite sexual undertones. The book ends with the possibility that Dog and Magpie will be reunited, but no certainty. Suggested reading age? Six and up.

[The text says “He stops, scarcely panting./ There is silence between them/ Neither moves, neither speaks./ Then Fox shakes Magpie off his back/ as he would a flea,/ and pads away./ He turns and looks at Magpie, and he says,/ ‘Now you and Dog will know what it is like/ to be truly alone.’/ Then he is gone./ In the stillness, Magpie hears a faraway scream./ She cannot tell if it is a scream of triumph/ or despair.”]

Tell me this isn’t a total punch in the gut.

The Rabbits by Shaun Tan The introduction of rabbits to Australia is used as an allegory for European colonization and the casual destruction of the Aboriginals’ lives and cultures. Suggested reading age? Six and up.

The Scarlet Stockings Spy by Trinka Hakes Noble A girl spies on the British during the Revolutionary War while her brother fights. He’s killed and there’s actually a description of her finding the “bloodstained hole” in his coat where the bullet struck him. How cute and silly! Suggested reading age? Second grade and up.

Meet Addy: An American Girl by Connie Rose Porter I think this works as a nice comparison to Animorphs because it’s another long-running, popular series aimed at kids just starting to read chapter books. Among other incidents, there’s a graphic description of Addy watching her brother get whipped by an overseer and a passage where another overseer forces Addy to eat worms. I actually give American Girls a lot of points for not shying away from the uglier parts of history. They don’t always get it right (*cough* Kaya *cough*) but those books are more complex than I think most people realize. Suggested reading age? Second grade and up.

My Teacher Flunked the Planet by Bruce Coville From the sight of a child starving to death to homeless children freezing in the streets, Coville certainly doesn’t avoid the darker side of human nature. Pretty sure most adults only noticed the funny green alien on the cover. Suggested reading age? Fourth grade and up.

“That was the day we crept, invisible, into a prison where men and women were being tortured for disagreeing with their government. What had already been done to those people was so ugly I cannot bring myself to describe it, even though the memory of it remains like a scar burned into my brain with a hot iron.

“Even worse was the moment when it was about to start again. When I saw what the uniformed man was going to do to the woman strapped to the table, I pressed myself against the wall and closed my eyes. But even with my hands clamped over my ears I couldn’t shut out her scream.”

Inside Out and Back Again by Thanhha Lai The Vietnam War, migrants drowning in the ocean, refugee camps, racism…this book is a bit like Animorphs in that it’s got a surprisingly dry sense of humor even as awful events take place. Suggested reading age? Fourth grade and up.

The Great Gilly Hopkins by Katherine Patterson A pretty harsh look at the realities of America’s foster care system as told by a girl who could give Rachel Berenson a run for her money. It’s not afraid to show that parents aren’t automatically good people. Suggested reading age? Third grade and up.

Stepping on the Cracks and Wait Til Helen Comes by Mary Downing Hahn If WWII, bullying, dead siblings, draft dodging, and parental abuse are too light and fluffy for you, you can always read about a child consumed with survivor’s guilt because she started the fire that killed her mother. Suggested reading age? Fifth grade and up.

“‘How do you think Jimmy would feel if he knew his own sister was helping a deserter while he lay dying in Belgium?’

‘It wasn’t like that!’ I said, stung by the unfairness of her question. ‘Stuart was sick, he needed me! I wish Jimmy had been down there in the woods, too! Then he’d be alive, not dead!’

Mother slapped me then, hard as she could, right in the face. ‘Never say anything like that again!’ she cried. ‘Never!’”

I could go on (and on and on and on) about trauma narratives for children, but suffice to say while I think Animorphs is probably the most brilliant one I’ve ever read, it’s far from the only one. Kids’ books can be dark, which is good, because if we only tell stories about white, able-bodied children living in big houses with two loving parents then we’re excluding the majority of real children’s lived experiences from our narratives.

There’s one more point I’d like to address: without sounding overly accusatory, I think a lot of the compulsion to consider Animorphs YA instead of children’s fiction is born of the adult bias against children. I’ve mentioned this before on the podcast, but Children’s Literature scholar Maria Nikolajeva created the term aetonormativity to describe society’s tendency to value the adult over the child. Like I discussed above, we have this idea that children’s books are somehow sweet and innocent, while YA fiction is darker and grittier because it addresses so-called ‘adult’ topics like sex, drugs, suicide, violence, and death.

As I hope I’ve established above, just because a book addresses these topics that doesn’t automatically mean it’s for teens. Books about heavy subjects can, are, and should be written for children. I think most of us are fans of Animorphs because it’s a series that sticks with us long after we close the neon-cloud covers. It’s a series that strongly disputes the notion of a clear right and wrong, and doesn’t shy away from the atrocities of war. And it was written for children. It was sold to children. It was read by children.

Some of us adults are just cool enough to read children’s books that treat child readers with the respect they deserve.

— Cates

[detectivedreameater]

Breathless|| Evelyn and Marley

TIMING: Saturday, May 16th PARTIES: @thronesofshadows and @detectivedreameater SUMMARY: Those who feed together, stay together.  CONTENT: Domestic Abuse Mentions, Death, Sleep Paralysis

She needed this. She didn’t technically need to feed, but she needed this. This old routine, to remind her of what she was and what she did. To remind her that it didn’t matter who it was that she fed from, and that this was what the world expected of her. And it was with that in mind that Marley made her way to Evelyn’s that night. She walked among the nighttime darkness as if it was a part of her, watching shadows dance, including her own, engorged with her last meal, though waning as it wore off. With the extra healing she’d needed for her arm, it couldn’t hurt to feed more, though, and she’d found herself often more fatigued than usual. So this would be good. This would definitely be good. She raised her hand, and pushed the bell.

She hadn’t fed with someone else since Melanie. She was excited at the possibility, but also there was a small part of her that felt apprehensive. Marley was someone she could trust though - and more than that, even, she was someone like her. Which meant a lot to Evelyn. For all that this town did have a lot of supernatural beings, she’d run into far too few mara. She also knew that she didn’t have to dress up for this, but she couldn’t help but put on something a bit extra nice. It was only a cashmere sweater over dark jeans, but she hoped it would be something Marley approved of. Almost as though she’d been summoned, Evelyn heard the doorbell ring and made her way over, pulling open the door and giving Marley a small smile. “I am glad you found my home. Do you need anything, or are you ready to go? The couple I have in mind is just about six houses away.” 

Marley hadn’t even bothered to wear her sunglasses out, and the relief of not having to felt nice as she looked Evelyn in the eyes and found their matching glow. It’d been so long since she’d looked at another mara and felt relief. Even as memories of the commune came back to her, she couldn’t help but find comfort in not having to hide. They were, after all, monsters of the same breed. She held out her hand. “Nope, I’m all ready. I came prepared.” Not that there was much to prepare for, specifically, but the sentiment was the same. “I’m just eager to do this. It’s been too long.”

She hadn’t worn her contacts - and she noticed Marley hadn’t either. Or hadn’t worn those glasses she’d had on when they first met. Evelyn couldn’t help but smile. “I can always appreciate a woman who comes prepared.” She said, stepping out of her house and pulling the door firmly shut behind her. “Follow me,” she began, before starting to walk. She knew the way. This wasn’t a pair who she frequently fed on, but she did it often enough that she’d memorized the way to their home. So she continued to walk, grateful that Marley had fallen into step with her. In practically no time at all they’d arrived at the house. Painted light yellow, perfect white fence around part of the property, a mailbox with their last name - Jones - right on the edge of the property. Evelyn made her way up the pathway to their door before she turned to face Marley. “You first.”

The house was larger and possibly more extravagant than Evelyn’s and Marley felt that lurch inside her stomach again that made her sick with anger. Places like this, people like this, always did. While she grew up tossed from house to house, family to family, people like this sat stop their high horses with their egregious stacks of money and pretend they were better than everyone else. It was people like them that had taken her away and told her she was a monster and locked her away. Her eyes met Evelyn once before she turned intangible and slipped through the door, not looking to see if she was following-- she knew she was. They slipped up the stairs, completely silent in their untouchable states, and into the bedroom. The old couple was sleeping back to back, each curled on their own side of the bed. Pity. Love never lasted, because it wasn’t real. They only stayed together out some skewed sense of loyalty and internalized misogyny. Marley looked over at Evelyn, locking eyes again. She wanted the man, and she took her place on his side of the bed. Held out her hand in the ‘Ready’ motion, hovering just above him.

She watched Marley fade through the door before she followed. Followed her up the stairs and to the bedroom. Evelyn had to admit that she was impressed at how quickly Marley moved, how well she adapted to a new house. She watched the couple sleeping - watched as Marley made her way over to Mr. Jones’ side and Evelyn moved around to Mrs. Jones’ side. She gave Marley a quick nod as the two of them held out their hands, before Evelyn bent over and traced her hand along Mrs. Jones’ jawline, still remaining intangible, before she allowed herself to become tangible again and pressed her palm against her forehead, letting her nightmares begin to rush in. Lost, in a tunnel. Evelyn knew that she and her husband had done spelunking when they were younger. Perhaps she hadn’t liked it as much as she had claimed. Evelyn closed her eyes for a moment, letting the feeling rush over her as she turned to look at Marley. “How’s he taste?” A small smirk crossed her lips.

Marley pressed her hand to the man’s forehead and tumbled. She felt that jerking motion that had slid into her chest her past two times feeding-- Dario, Nadia. Her heart hammered a moment as she pried into his nightmare. But the visions she saw before her eyes were exactly what she needed. It was almost a relief, watching him cower in fear. Watching his dream shift from a childhood nightmare into a current one, twisted a little. A hand raised. Police sirens. Marley’s eyes widened. Was Mrs. Jones also dreaming of her husband’s raised fist? Or were her nightmares simpler? Marley narrowed her eyes again, feeling that anger pulse through her. Her hand tensed, fingers digging into the man’s forehead. He began to struggle as her arm stiffened, lowered. Nails digging into his cheeks as her hand gripped over his mouth. He woke with a start, but couldn’t move. She could hear his throat struggling to make words. Marley nearly forgot Evelyn was there as she looked down at that man, but said nothing. 

Mr. Jones was struggling, and Evelyn shook her head and focused back on Mrs. Jones. Ignoring Marley, because this had never happened before. Nobody woke up when she fed from them. So why was it happening now? She could hear faint gurgling noises from Mr. Jones’ mouth and she did look up, then. Looked over at Marley, who had her hand over his mouth. “We should go.” She whispered, one hand pressed firmly on Mrs. Jones’ shoulder. “We - I do not want them to see us.” Evelyn pressed her tongue against her teeth. “If you let go now, we might be able to get out before they even wake up.”

“It’s too late for that,” Marley said cooly, staring deep into Mr. Jones’ eyes, paralyzing him once again with his worst fear. She knew he could see sirens, she knew he could feel the consequences to his actions. Her hand tightened. “He beats her,” she said darkly, her voice growing low as her pressed down on his mouth, smothering him. His body jerked as he tried to fight off the paralysis, but it was no use. “He’s seen me.” His body jerked more, harder. “Watch closely,” she said, still not looking up at Evelyn, “this is what we are.” And with a swift motion, she pulled her hand-- and all the air from his lungs-- away. The man didn’t even sputter on his last breaths. Only choked, then fell limp with death. Eyes still open, staring up at her. Her eyes finally rose to meet Evelyn’s. “I had to do it.”

“It -” Evelyn began, her words caught in her throat. “He did not see you. We can - you are -” This wasn’t how this was supposed to go. Evelyn knew well that some mara took pleasure in their abilities outside of giving nightmares. Then his body was moving violently and then everything was still. “I know it is what we can do,” she replied, suddenly moving her hand away from Mrs. Jones, taking a few steps backward. “Marley, I was told that - this is a very delicate practice.” Each word chosen carefully. She couldn’t really speak, could she? She’d almost killed her own father when she was fourteen. She supposed that the difference was that she couldn't go through with it, and then here Marley was, doing it so easily. “We have to go. I - I know you are police but if she wakes up she will call your coworkers and -” Her lips felt dry. “I have never seen anyone take breath before. Her fingers found her hair and she twisted it into tight curls. “I did not think he was going to wake up.” She moved around to Marley’s side of the bed and grabbed her hand, pulling her toward the door. 

Mrs. Jones still lay asleep, even through Evelyn’s fraught worry. Was she more afraid of getting caught or of Marley? Marley couldn’t tell. “Whoever told you that was lying,” she said, watching Evelyn come around the bed towards her. Let her tug on her, not resisting, though her eyes fell back to Mrs. Jones. It would be better to finish the job, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it right now. Not after what she saw. Mrs. Jones deserved to be free, and Marley had given her that freedom. They slipped through the door, unnoticed, untraceable. “This is what we are, Evelyn. Whatever your dad taught you, was human. Don’t you want to be a mara? A real mara? A true mara? Isn’t that why you talked to me? Why you want to get to know me better?” She paused just outside the house. “This is me, Evelyn. This is us. You don’t really think humans could ever accept beings that feed from their nightmares, do you?”

“She was not.” Evelyn responded. “Mel - my girlfriend told me that. Why waste someone’s life, just for a - rush? Is that what it is.” She followed Marley through the door silently. Down the stairs and almost to the front door. “I am real.” She whispered. “I have never met another mara who takes breath as well as nightmares.” They were outside now and she raised an eyebrow at Marley. “I do want to get to know you better, and I do want to be excellent at what I do, to know more - but - I do not kill people.” She glanced back over to the house. Her lips forming the beginning of a frown at Marley’s next comment. All she could think of was her mother. Her mother and her father - how he’d wanted nothing to do with her when he found out what she was. To Alain, who she knew would never look at her the same if he knew what she did. She’d never thought genetics would have extended to falling in love with a human too. Focused back on Marley, her voice quiet. “No. No, I do not think they could. I know that all too well.”

“You think I like doing this?” Marley asked, suddenly stiff. “I don’t enjoy killing people, Evelyn. But he deserved it. If you saw what I saw, you would know, too,” she said quietly, looking away, as if ashamed. She didn’t know how she felt, only that she knew she’d done the right thing. She looked down, wondering how many lives her hands had really taken. Remembering how many times she’d been passed along between other peoples’ hands-- Monster, they’d whisper, she’s a monster. Fingers curled into fists. “I only do it to people who deserve it. To people who think they’re above the law. To people like him.” She corrected, standing up straighter, looking square at Evelyn. She would not waver again. “We have the power to do that. I’m not saying you have to, but you have to accept the fact that you are also capable of it. And once you do,” she stopped, softened her voice, “then you’ll understand what it means to be mara. We are nightmares, Evelyn. We’re not human. Even you.”

“No, of course not.” Evelyn looked over to her again. Count her to be the one to be excellent at all social interactions except for when it really counted. “Okay.” Was it, though? Practically nobody deserved to die. “I believe you.” She had to, right? “Of course. I never would have thought that you would do this often. Though, I suppose, if you are going to do something like this, having your job can be handy. Not that - I would not accuse you of covering things up but I do know that when I was little and people who tutored me or worked in my home claimed things about me, paying them off did a great deal. I mean, I did not know this at the time always, but -” She shrugged. “I have known I am capable of it for a while. I know I am not human.” She glanced down at her hand, making it go invisible for a moment, before she looked up at Marley. “Never have been, never will be.” She reached out for Marley’s hand for a moment, giving it a small squeeze. “I have always been proud of what I am. It is just not so often that I run into other mara, is all. There were supposed to be more of us here.”

Marley looked down at their hands. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so compelled by another mara. She could only remember the pain of their rejection. The loss of their community. The anger of their rejection. She squeezed Evelyn’s hand back. “I do what I have to keep this town safe,” she said, knowing it wasn’t entirely true. “I do it because no one else will. And there are people-- monsters-- who think they can get away with anything. And if it means becoming a monster to stop them, then I’ll do it,” she said, as if reciting from a book. As if saying it that way made it more true. “Maybe there are more, but for now, we’re all we’ve got, right?” And maybe Marley could make Evelyn like her before they met them, so that she wouldn’t have to face that rejection again. She squeezed a little tighter. “Just stick with me, and you’ll never be alone.”

She couldn’t help but feel a sense of calm at Marley’s hand in hers. Everything that she had looked for. A kinship. Which meant that whatever had just happened had to be - okay. Or if not entirely okay, she did have to accept it. She was not too keen on losing another friend, even if only through rejection. Evelyn nodded. “Of course. You do a wonderful job. Certainly my favorite member of the police force.” She grinned. Let Marley squeeze her hand again. Relished for a moment at the firm feeling of the other’s hand in her own. At least she would have someone who wouldn’t reject her. “I promise. Not straying from you any time soon. We are in this together, after all.” 

It was with the small wave of relief that Marley realized she had been holding her breath a moment. Letting go slowly, she nodded. “We’re in this together,” she repeated, the words tasting strange on her tongue. How long had it been since she’d welcomed another mara so wholly into her life? She’d met others along the way, after leaving the commune, but they’d all shunned her, too. And she’d rejected them, as well. But something about Evelyn was different. It had to be. Otherwise she wouldn’t be standing here. They wouldn’t be talking. Something was pulling them together, and Marley wasn’t about to let that go. All she had to do now was convince Evelyn that she was right. And that everyone else was wrong. Wrapping her arm around Evelyn’s, she turned to lead them back towards her house, away from the Jones’, glancing back only once as they went, still untouchable to the world around them. “Yeah,” she said quietly, “we’re in this together.”