#i wish i had space & nuance for this more in depth but the fic is gonna be like 100000 words long as is so I'm forever like ahhhh cut that

[fumblingmusings]

Will we be seeing Leon anytime soon? I always felt like if any of Evelyn's kids would truly be her own it would have been Leon but the opium would have made her an erratic parent (well she is anyway but even more so now this kids her own plus its with a man -yao - she doesn't even love)

He will not, unfortunately! And I dont think Leon is hers in any meaningful way, aside from a colony that was won in a very cruel manner.

The main trio of the fic really are England, Canada, and America, with Australia, Scotland, Wales, Germany, and Japan being secondary, then ones like New Zealand, France, Prussia etc being tertiary. It's already so squished...

He gets mentioned twice, though, once back in 1851 and in the 1942 chapter, which I may have already written completely out of order.

I don't know if it's all that clear in the fic, but I reference that Alfred is the only one she took home in person herself. She found him, she stayed with him, she took him back to England too early and was in general in complete control of his wellbeing until the Revolution. Matthew was introduced to her by Francis, and she did genuinely fight to have him, albeit the permanent handover was done with Alasdair as the middle man.

After the Revolution, her ability to move around and go places becomes extremely restricted, both in terms of being in no state to travel or that the second wave of Empire is a different monster to the first, and her position within it is a bit different. She gets away for a few weeks here and there to Canada and Europe, but aside from the War of 1812, she's kind of stuck in England for the next century. Oz and Zee were literally handed to her, and neither was she desperate to have them like she was her older boys until they literally got dumped in her arms. Then she fell in love, because they were completely dependent on her.

There's a deliberate hierarchy involved with the settler colonies versus the others. In the early chapters, she does have some sort of relationship with the Caribbean, but that is strangled and left in the lurch, and anytime someone it crosses her mind she becomes a guilty mess, so she stops thinking about them after the 18th century. You may have noticed she has, not once, shown concern or interest in India. She tried with what would become South Africa but got such a firm 'no' she left it alone... Evelyn is very much a 'if I don't acknowledge the problem, it does not exist' kind of person. She knows full well the problem exists.

If Oz and Zee had not been given to her, if they had remained and spent their entire lives in their own nations, she would not have cared beyond a passing thought here and there. Her head genuinely only has space for the people right in front of her there and then. Repeatedly, it's mentioned that she won't see a kid hurt in front of her. Behind her... oh well. She really isn't the most empathetic or thoughtful person. Evelyn complains that to be ignored by Francis is the most painful thing in the world, blissfully unaware that she is capable of the exact same thing.

It's the same thing with Leon. She saw a little of him when he was a young boy immediately after the war, ensured his household was more than sufficient for his care and education, then did not seek him out again until she passed through in the 1890s on her way to Japan.

Essentially, she feels guilt over how Hong Kong came to be British, so much guilt that looking at Leon makes her uncomfortable, so she decides not to get involved to save herself from dealing with a difficult moral quandary. She knows it's wrong, but only enough to put a blindfold over herself, rather than actually confront what happened. By the time she gets over it and gets her head out of her arse, he doesn't need nor want a mother figure. Which is a shameful situation, but nowadays, she does sneak behind Yao's back.

Imperialism is bad, essentially. It poisons her brain and rots any healthy relationship she tries to build. She can't have a functioning relationship with any of them until that factor has been stripped clean. The fact that, in that time when they first won Leon and he was briefly brought to the UK for parading around, that Evelyn did sit up with him all night, holding his hand as he cried and missed Yao... there's a good person in there. It's buried until 3000 levels of bullshit, but there is a good person in there.

Sometimes.

[thefieryeclipse]

“The Wall” Petlar - Pride Month

In honour of Pride, I’m reposting a segment from my post-series Heroes WIP as a short story here on Tumblr. You can consider it a standalone if you like, or if you want to read more you can find the full fic here ^.^

I hope you enjoy this dive into the memories of Petlary goodness behind “The Wall”!

(M, slash, m/m, angst, blood, tears, fluff, feels)

(This gorgeous gif, my favourite one ever, doesn’t belong to me. All credit to the original creator, but sadly I still don’t know who that is!)

SPOILERS BELOW FOR “TONGUES OF FIRE” - Chapter 38

Peter awoke on the ground, but he couldn't remember getting there.

Everything was silent. A pressing white noise so vacant it was deafening, and nothing at all stirred but the slow rise and fall of his chest. Lying on his back, he opened his eyes to the velvet blanket of a vast, cloudless sky high above.

A sky that was... flashing?

Confused, Peter frowned up at the moon chasing the sun between elongated skyscrapers, shadows washing over him where he lay while days and nights passed before his eyes like the swinging beat of a pendulum.

Feeling oddly weightless, he picked himself up from the middle of an abandoned city street, lined on both sides by a row of neat trees. And suddenly the niggling thought that he was forgetting something important didn't seem to matter anymore, that he was supposed to be somewhere else.

He didn't understand. It should have been New York City. The streets Peter had grown up in, the island on which he'd spent nearly every day of his life, but he didn't know this place. It was an amalgamation, a hybrid, a new face whose features merely resembled those of his hometown. The city was deserted: empty streets and empty buildings lined with a million windows gaping at him like hollowed eye sockets, watching him struggle to find his bearings. There were no signs of life. Not even a car had been abandoned by the sidewalk, not one old newspaper fluttered through the windless air. Peter shivered, although there was no temperature. His faint breath shuddered, although there was no sound.

And then the echo of raised voices behind him made his heart thump loudly in his chest.

Peter span just as the sun froze in the sky, high on the crest of a bright and clear morning. He recognised the voices rebounding off vacant husks of buildings around him, just before two men turned a corner and appeared into view, one storming ahead while the other tagged along angrily at his heels. Peter couldn't have hid even if he wasn't exposed out in a wide open road, his feet rooting him to the spot as his blood instantly ran cold.

“...like it or not, Peter, you're stuck here forever, with me, and I am trying here! Are you? 'Cause it sure as hell doesn't feel like it!”

“Am I supposed to feel guilty? You murdered my brother, I don't owe you anything!”

“Yes, I did. I murdered him.” Sylar snarled, and although he wasn't shouting this time his words reverberated further, more clearly, than the others before. “I slit his throat and watched him bleed out and I didn't even care. He died alone, Peter. Scared. Defeated -”

“Stop it!”

Heart racing faster, Peter saw himself turn on his enemy, hands balled into fists at his side. Sylar stopped walking in response, head held high. And all the while Peter was outside it all, unharmed, invisible on the outskirts as he just stood there gazing at the surreal sight unfolding before him. Holy shit.

“- And I've said it a thousand times before, and even if you don't believe me that doesn't change the fact that I'm -”

“Don't!”

“- Sorry.”

The word ricocheted around the barren city. It lodged itself in Peter's gut like a bullet shard, sympathy pains felt from the shaking young empath standing before him in the distance. “Stop saying that. You don't mean it. If you were sorry you wouldn't have killed him. If you were sorry you wouldn't have killed any of them.”

Sylar scowled after the smaller man as he continued storming along the street, drawing closer to where his dream-like counterpart stood. Neither of them noticed him at all.

“Oh I get it,” The killer tagged along again, more infused with a fiery emotion than Peter had ever known him. “You've never made a mistake. You've never looked back and wished for a do-over. That you could change, that you'd made different choices, that you knew then what you know now, because your life has been nothing but a series of winning decisions, is that what you're saying?!” Sylar grabbed after his accuser, wrenching him back around by the arm. “'Cause from where I'm standing, it looks like they only served to land you in the exact same shithole as mine.”

Peter tugged himself free. “At least I never killed everyone who ever tried to love me!”

The following silence rang out loudly. Now close enough to the pair to make out the nuances in both men's faces, Peter watched with a weight constricting his chest as Sylar reeled, deeply wounded. Regret shone plainly on his own self's face, for just a heartbeat too long before it was forcibly concealed behind a mask of defiance.

Sylar's reply was quiet, but not gentle. “Loved ones. Mothers. Friends. Tell me, where are yours, Peter?”

The counter attack winded Peter Petrelli. Both the haunted man currently backing away from his enemy's space, and the spectre set adrift in the strange city that didn't belong to him. Peter and Sylar glared at one another, two lost souls forced together among nothingness, concrete, brick and stone, the double-bladed burn of rage rising between them like smoke in the air.

Sylar tipped his head slightly in a manner anyone else could construe as sympathetic. “I wonder what's worse? The thought that everyone else out there is dead; or that none of your precious heroes have bothered to look for you all this time?” He twitched one heavy eyebrow to hammer the point home. “Do you think anyone's even noticed you're missing? Or do they just not care?”

For a moment, the looming promise of an echoing crack of a punch rang throughout the city. But none came. Peter didn't attack, and he didn't make a sound beyond the pained catching of his breath. Then he tightened his fists and turned his back on Sylar one last time, picking up the pace as he left the killer behind.

“Like it or not, Petrelli, I'm all you've got!” Sylar called after him, teeth bared. “And neither of us are going anywhere for a long, long time!”

Peter's heart lurched when his other self faltered a step, almost level with where he hid, veiled out of time. He fought the urge to reach out and bridge the impassable distance with a touch, as the same vulnerability and fear that itched within his ribcage flickered over the other man's face, pooling in his eyes. But then his dream counterpart pushed on, leaving a full, unobstructed view of Sylar's dampening temper in his wake.

Slowly, the killer's scowl eased. He hunched in on himself, watching every step as his only means of company walked away.

It might have been the first time Peter had ever witnessed something close to shame from the guy. Something close to regret. It was a painful pill to swallow, like it went down the wrong way. And when Sylar finally dropped his eyeline to the ground and turned his back, Peter hurried to follow his own footsteps deeper into the city without pausing to witness one more second of the killer.

But as soon as he took his first step the sky fast-forwarded again and he was alone.

Morning became noon became night as Peter found himself lost among vacant streets and stretching shadows that snatched at his heels like fingers. Guided by an invisible cord looped around his waist, he searched with no direction, intention or idea where he was going, just a ghost adrift in an endless maze that re-arranged itself in his peripheral vision.

He lost track of how many times the sun rolled across the sky before it stalled once again, a red glimmer hanging low between the towering spires of skyscrapers. Peter stopped running, somehow not even out of breath, once he was framed in the open mouth of a back alley, the sunset staining a towering brick wall blocking the far end crimson.

The hairs on the back of his neck tickled as he caught sight of himself once again, unmistakable in his fury, stalking the length of the alley ahead.

At the far end, Sylar climbed to his feet at the base of the wall to accommodate the approach. And even from this far away, with merely one glimpse of him, he certainly didn't look like the same, smug serial killer Peter's nightmares had been plagued by for years.

Again locked in place, he watched himself stomp towards the murderer without easing or slowing down; watched Sylar ball his hands into fists but not lift them; watched himself raise his arms and tackle Sylar around the neck, winding him, knocking the breath from them both – 

But it wasn't a fight. Instead, they both swayed with the momentum of something so unexpected, something so harmless, as a hug.

Alone on the outskirts of this secret, Peter's throat tightly constricted. He couldn't breathe. He didn't need to. He was only a ghost, anyway.

Floating closer to the exchange, he couldn't seem to make sense of the bewilderment shining plainly across Sylar's face. Or his own arms holding the guy close, or the sound of his soft, strangled voice muffled in the depths of Sylar's shoulder.

As if he hadn't ever been a mortal enemy. As if he wasn't a ruthless serial killer. As if he'd never heartlessly cut down Nathan Petrelli in his prime.

“You were right.” Realistically, the words shouldn't have rebounded down the alley, but Peter heard them anyway. “No one's out there looking for us. No one's coming to save us. It's just you and me, Sylar, and I just can't... I can't fight with you anymore.”

Peter's arms tightened around the taller man. And only then did Sylar let his eyes flutter closed and tentatively place his hands on Peter's back. He bent down into the hug, returning it, indulging in the feel of it as if it were the first of his life.

“It's down to us. Alright?” Peter continued huskily. “It's you and me, and I don't wanna live this way forever. I can't carry this... this hate much longer. I can't.” He paused to chase a breath, and when he continued his voice was dangerously close to cracking. “We can't keep going like this if we're gonna survive, here. We've gotta do better, Sylar. We've gotta make it work. Okay?”

For a long time the men simply stood there entwined, rocking slightly on the spot, where no one could see them and no one would ever know. And in that reprieve it didn't matter that they'd shattered one another in the past, or that they shouldn't want to hold each other close, because for a moment it was as if the fights had never happened and the miles of blood stained history belonged to someone else.

Watching, Peter struggled to swallow when Sylar slowly nodded his head in agreement. When he then pried the smaller man away with gentle hands and an unfamiliar softness to his eyes, and just held him there close, looking down into his face as the whisper floated down the alley and imprinted into the witness's skin.

“I want to make it work, Peter...”

Time sped up again before he could see what happened next, before he was ready, erasing the men, the wall and the words from the slate like they'd never existed at all.

Day and night pulsed around Peter once more as he struggled to keep up, resuming the endless path to nowhere with less blind trust than before. As he searched vacant streets he shivered, and as he walked broken roads he worried, plagued with the strangest sense that this time he'd left more than just the alley behind.

The city warped around him. Buildings moved when he wasn't looking. Brief flashes of sunlight revealed new sights that hadn't been there the moment before. And then night fell steady and constant upon the world and Peter was somehow high atop a rusting fire escape, outside the only window in the sprawling city that housed the warm glow of light. Of life.

Helpless to resist, he numbly phased through the window as if he were a phantom, heart pounding heavier than ever in his chest.

Inside, the apartment was dark, cluttered, unfamiliar. Floating shelves lined the walls, packed to the brim with canned food while their previous occupants scattered the floor in precarious piles of books. A workbench stood near the back wall, buried beneath some sort of mechanical scraps Peter couldn't make out from here. But he wasn't really looking. Because that glow of a light didn't come from within these rooms, he now realised, but from between them.

A hidden hatch stood open in one wall. A two-way mirror that revealed a winding, shadowy corridor beyond. And the swinging light bulb within lured Peter in deeper as if he didn't have a choice but to obey.

Just as before, the two living souls in this place didn't look up as he approached them in the dark. They didn't even acknowledge him. And just as before, Peter couldn't name the mass of emotions that ached within his chest at the very sight of himself and Sylar, sitting silently side by side on the floor, their backs against the dusty inside of a wall.

The taste of horror seemed familiar on his tongue. But if this was due to the tears currently drying on Sylar's flushed face, or the desperate screams scrawled by bloody fingertips on the walls, he couldn't decide.

“It's from... before. Way before, when my ability first...” Sylar tried then faded off, as if he didn't even know the words. Meanwhile, sitting beside him, Peter nodded and took a steadying breath, caught between giving his split attention to the crying man or the ghastly bloodied 'forgive me's towering above.

“S'okay.”

“No, Peter. It's not.”

Still sniffling slightly, the killer turned to Peter, exhausted and unguarded and unashamed of his vulnerability in a way that sent more spasms tightly clenching through the empath's heart. Because this wasn't an act and it wasn't a pity plea, and as much as he hated it, and as much as the sight made his stomach cramp as if he were about to throw up, Peter couldn't tear his gaze away from the blatantly human sight of the man visible in fractures behind his shattered facade.

Sylar's voice was soft when he elaborated, thick with a recent burst of emotion that had yet to fade. “None of it is okay. No matter what I do or how many times I start, I can never get past... this.” He blinked rapidly, not quite looking at a hundred broken attempts at redemption pressing in on him from all sides. “I've tried. I really tried, so many times, and I wanted to be better. But after all these years... I just don't think I'm strong enough on my own. And no one has ever stayed long enough to...” He stopped himself again, scowling at his own self-pity.

The Peter on the ground tore his focus from the sorry sight of Sylar, looking up again upon the defaced walls. A timeline. A mural of blood, sweat and tears, a memorial of the killer's endless battle with his demons. And Peter drank in each word despite the burn.

Please forgive me... Help me... I'm sorry... Forgive me... Please...

He closed his eyes just briefly, biting his lip. “I will.”

“What?”

“I'll stay.” Peter clarified, sighing out all the tension in his frame. Sylar stared at him. “I won't leave you. I won't run out on you. I won't lie, or betray you, or manipulate you like my mother did.” Now Sylar looked so affronted that a sudden telekinetic choke hold wouldn't be a surprise. But instead he just gaped at Peter, lips twitching soundlessly as he struggled to untangle his thoughts into something resembling words. “If you're serious about wanting to be better, Sylar... I'll help you.” Peter finished, a soft exhale. Only then did he meet the killer's eyes, and there was no room for doubt in that tiny corridor that he knew exactly what he was signing himself up for. That they all did.

Silence stretched for a long time. Until the older man recovered some semblance of his vocal chords. “Wh-why would you want to do that?” The question was laced with hope and suspicion, two compounds at war with each other.

But Peter just looked at him, and the honesty on his face was clear for all to see. “'Cause the guy who wrote this?” He glanced back at the blood-scrawled walls as if pained. “He never had that chance. And maybe if someone had just listened to him back then... none of this would've happened.” He offered Sylar a sad little curve of his lips. “Maybe all you needed was a friend.”

The killer's heavy brows eased from their furrow. Fresh tears streamed from his disbelieving eyes. Too late, he seemed to notice what was happening and averted his face, tremors consuming his hunched form.

And rather than leave, Peter leaned into him, a comforting warmth. And rather than recoil, the empath reached for Sylar's hand and held it gently, surely, and just sat with the man in silence while he cried.

And then time shifted forward again.

Left reeling on the spot, Peter the spectator, the ghost, tried to blink away the blurriness stinging at his own eyes. When it subsided he saw he was no longer crowded by bloody prayers or that lone, swinging light bulb: he was back outside on the fire escape. And that same old cord, his guide, was pulling him on again, but he didn't want to answer the call this time.

The tangled mass of feeling expanded further inside with every step he ascended the rusty staircase. More years flew past within moments. And the whispering breath of wind grew louder the higher he climbed.

On the final step, darkness blanketed the city for the last time. The sky was vast and starless high above, the rooftop captured in the cool tones and hues of the illusive moment between evening and night. Shaking slightly, it took Peter a moment to realise that the whispering breaths didn't belong to the wind, after all. And through shadow he discerned the shapes of two bodies on the ground, naked and writhing beneath a bundle of discarded clothing.

He meant to jump back from the scene but the steel cord wouldn't let him. So Peter was forced to hide here in the dark, unable to feel his limbs at the sight of his own self kissing the lips of his enemy. The pair broke apart with deep, shuddering breaths, and Peter watched himself lie back and smile sleepily at the man in his arms.

Then a murmur punctured the night, sending goosebumps rolling down his spine.

“Do you trust me, Peter?”

“Why, you think I'd do that with just anyone?” The empath chuckled and pressed a kiss to Sylar's shoulder. But when the man didn't laugh Peter propped himself up on an elbow to better look down upon him. “What's up, buddy?” He prompted with another small smile, trailing a hand over the killer's bare chest and stirring the hair there.

The gesture was so natural and yet so obscene, that in the rational corner of his mind Peter wanted to yell and run – no fly – away before he saw something else he'd never be able to shake. But he was still chained in place by something heavier than shock, and the warden of fate wouldn't let him move or even make a sound. Instead, he bore witness to the exchange of intimate touches, adoration, a familiarity that he'd never been able to keep with anyone in reality.

“I was just thinking about Elle.” Sylar confessed, looking up into the darkening sky.

Peter's caresses slowed. “Oh.” The spectre watched his own face fall slightly, far too familiar with that feeling not to experience second hand rejection gnawing at him now.

“Not like that.” Sylar appeased Peter slightly by prying the man's hand from his chest to absently entwine their fingers, but still didn't drop his gaze from the heavens. “I was thinking about how... how I didn't kill her for her ability. I killed her because she betrayed me.”

Peter frowned, the ease from earlier fading. “Is that supposed to make it okay?”

“No. But it makes it different. She lied to me. It was... personal, the others weren't.” Peter's sigh finally earned Sylar's full attention, and when the smaller man untangled himself from the killer as if to get up, Sylar held onto his wrist, keeping him there. “I could have loved her, Peter.”

On the far side of the rooftop, Peter felt that word impact like a sledgehammer to the gut. Love. But on the ground, he didn't look surprised by this information at all, reluctantly indulging the other man with a scowl still dirtying his brow.

“I trusted her. I let her in. But she...” Sylar's expression grew distant then, cast back through time. “...Recoiled. And I reacted. It was... fragile.”

The empath huffed impatiently through his nose, biting his lip. “What're you trying to tell me, Sylar?”

Sylar fell quiet, his face unmasked in a way that was entirely unfamiliar to his enemy. And more than he had when intruding upon the secret closet of bloody remorse, or catching the pair naked and breathless with sweat still drying on their skin, Peter felt wrong, voyeuristic, to be spying on such an intimate sight from the shadows as that expression.

Sylar reached up to trail Peter's long, tousled hair from obscuring his eye, a painfully sweet gesture. And when he took a breath it shook slightly. “This place? You and me? Whatever the hell we've gotten ourselves into... It's fragile, too. It's special.” He gave up on the stubborn lock when it refused to stay put, dropping his hands to fold across his stomach. A shadow of affliction passed over his face. “And if people knew they'd try to take it from us.”

Peter relaxed back down over his companion, lips quirking up on the working side. “Then we won't let them.”

Sylar tried to smile in response to the gentle nuzzling of his nose. A weak, short-lived thing. “You're too trusting, Peter, and I'm too destructive and it would be easy, too easy, to ruin this if they wanted, which they will. And if we ever do wake up and all this feels like a dream, I don't want there to be any doubts between us. Nothing they can use.”

Concern ghosted across Peter's features. He climbed free of his companion to fall flat on his back beside him, looking unseeingly into the ebony void far above. “Why are you saying these things?” He hugged his arms around his own torso, suddenly feeling the cold he hadn't a moment before.

And the spectre on the sidelines only drew closer to the scene, ever helpless, defenseless to resist.

Sylar turned his head to survey Peter, shadows emphasising the heavy angles of his face while his messy hair splayed out around him, thick and dark on the ground. He should have looked dangerous lying there so close, heart rate still elevated, skin still heated. He shouldn't have looked handsome, striking in his vulnerability. But he did. And only more so when amusement brightened the serial killer's features through the slight pursing of his lips. “Do you remember I told you about Lydia from the carnival?”

Still refusing to look at him, Peter just nodded, only more confused. An affectionate smirk twinkled at the corners of Sylar's eyes. And he was even less recognisable as the brutal murderer that had ripped reality to shreds in his wake.

“I've been thinking for a while, now. And if we ever get outta here... I want you to use her ability on me.”

At first, Peter just met the man's eyes, blinking quickly at him while he processed. Then he pushed himself into a sitting position, squinting down at Sylar as if the statement would be clearer from that angle. His hand shook while he ran it through his disheveled hair, and only upon close inspection was it evident that Sylar was holding his breath.

Stunned, Peter could barely muster his voice. “You'd trust me to read your soul?” He looked unsure, as if at any moment he expected his companion to reveal it as some sort of joke. But Sylar only nodded, that knowing, affectionate smirk washing across the rest of his features. And sudden tears welled up in the empath's eyes, refusing to fall, in the moment the truth finally hit home. “Really?” He breathed, a sound so small it couldn't carry the short distance across the rooftop.

But from above, his ethereal counterpart heard it anyway. And he saw Sylar laugh a little in response to Peter's disbelief, the deep, pleasant sound catching in his chest.

Equal parts horrified and entranced, Peter struggled to believe what he was witnessing from this man and that voice and those lips: the fearsome lone wolf who'd always killed before letting someone get too close, close enough to hurt him.

Yet, he saw his other self's eyes roam between Sylar's, so close below his own. And looking at the men now, having already obliterated so many boundaries to have gotten this far, sharing in the midst of the rubble they'd created, Peter could see every scar that had transpired between them, scrawling signatures embedded below one another's skin. They'd never be free of the other. They were already imprinted, marked forever like tattoos.

And for the very first time, it looked something close to beautiful.

On the ground, eyes wide and glistening, Peter hesitated slightly before skimming his knuckles across Sylar's cheekbone. The murderer caught his hand, cradling it between both his larger, stronger ones, the hands that had spilled an ocean of innocent blood long ago. “Only if you want it,” he smirked, “otherwise I was joking.”

Peter's answering grin illuminated his entire face, an emotion so potent that his unseen counterpart hungered for it, ached for it, even just to know what it felt like.

Because he was pretty sure he'd never smiled like that in his life. And he'd never known such a certainty as he was witnessing unfold before him now. As far back as he could remember, nobody had ever trusted him that much. He'd never found that someone who thought him special enough to want to hold, to want to keep, to want to let so close that it was literally, humanly impossible.

And now his heart broke when he saw himself lie back down against the rooftop, and his last reservations fell and pooled around his ankles as his other self leaned in and murmured against Sylar's lips.

“Alright.” He promised.

The kiss was gentle, intimate, achingly tender even from the outside. Soft lips against lips, hands cradling bare skin, smiles curving against one another while Sylar rolled atop Peter, pinning him to the cold ground. Night was entirely upon them now, and the whisper of deepening, breathless kisses leaked into the air, meanwhile on the outskirts Peter felt like he was falling. Like his core was being hauled up into the air by that same old invisible thread, leaving a vital part of himself behind.

The city was evaporating around him. The horizon floating away like ash, the walls closing in upon where he stood, trembling and weak, longing for a breeze to soothe the burning promise of tears gathered in his own eyes.

He'd seen too much. He hadn't seen enough. He didn't understand, yet it made all kinds of sense. That wrong was right and people could change, could forgive, and that try as he might Peter couldn't find the will in himself to deny what he knew had been real, once.

And suddenly he was enveloped by the heat of another man's arms around him, strong and sincere and reliable. He felt the living softness of someone else's skin touching his, although still he stood alone, his lips tingled beneath the sensation he'd almost forgotten was that of another pair against them, it had been so long. And he could sense every part of that body, he could breathe the familiar, comforting scent of his hair, and somehow he tasted the gentle press of Sylar's tongue in his mouth, and he felt safe. Trusted. He felt wanted more than he'd ever been wanted before. And it invaded his senses all at once, unrelenting, overstimulating, until he couldn't discern between fear and arousal and he no longer knew where the Peter on the ground and the Peter on the outskirts collided.

Only then, the shackles keeping him frozen in place broke free. Feeling returned to his limbs and he stumbled away from the illicit lovers as fast as shooting pins and needles would let him.

But he wasn't steady enough. And with that cord now severed, he fell.

[twelvemonkeyswere]

What are your long-time favorite Jaime x Brienne fanfics?

haaaa thanks anon, I do love talking about my favorite anything.

for this one I’ll only refer to finished fics that I have read because there are several favorites that are wips or unfinished (here’s for the bakery AU, some day) and plenty of stuff I haven’t read at all.

for now, this is my curated, nowhere near comprehensive list of favorite fics, in no particular order, and which is way longer than you asked for:

1. Weekend at Casterly by green_light

I love this fic so much. it’s an instant classic: characterization is perfect, the humor is wonderful, the love declarations made me hold my breath. the one liners are a blast. I has so many great phrases and moments I can’t even start to mention them. my favorite moments are “you are real” and the robe, but there’s so much to love. if by any chance the author sees this--thank you. 

2. Works and Days by Mussimm

THIS FUCKING THING RIGHT HERE. the Hesiod reference (what it implies!!), the carefully crafted structure, the way form and content combine to build the tension and the character growth, and of course the perfectly hit emotional beats. I always love the idea that Brienne and Jaime, as commanders, would basically support one another in whatever way they could. I love how peace depends on which side of the field they are on basically at all times.

3. The Unicorn Incident by sdwolfpup

I love worldbuilding and this novellette here yees all my haws because it has an excellent sense of humor, a great pace, and builds a world both physical and emotional in a relatively small space. the scene at the lake is marvelous for many reasons which I don’t want to spoil, and the whole concept is the stuff of delight. I read it during a sleepless night and it was such a comfort.

4. alright, outta sight by Samirant

Samirant has written some of my favorite fics but I’m going with this one. I read it when it was still in progress and I haven’t recovered since. slice of life is difficult to pull off and doing it in 37k words even more so. the way the characters interact and talk and feel hits all the right spots for me and the ending, in particular, is absolutely beautiful. I admire the way the story seems to reach an emotional high in the most organic way and it leaves you with this sense of rightness.

5. Battle is the Great Redeemer by Lady_in_Red

this masterpiece has some of my favorite things–time loops, check; symbolism, check; in-depth exploration of the world it’s building, check (as I said, I love worldbuilding). every chapter was always better than the last, and seeing Jaime rewriting and relearning each lesson was such a journey all I wish is I could read it again without knowing how it ends.

6. All the Roads are Winding by ShirleyAnn66

what can I say except this is a fucking classic? the structure, the plot, the several universes (the worldbuilding!!). everyone has a favorite and mine has to be the universe of the scientists, the main one. it’s funny and intricate and I don’t usually like soulmate stuff (I prefer when they choose each other, I find it more powerful) but this right here is a love letter as to why these two characters belong together in any and all iterations and I can’t agree more.

7. Hold This Threadbare Heart at Needlepoint by nire

nire has written way more stuff since she released this gem but it has a special place in my heart. The gentle playfulness with gender roles and the relationship dynamic is very well achieved and the whole premise is just wonderful. Jaime learning to embroider so he develops soft motor skills in his left hand? sign me the fuck up. I love this fic a lot because it’s very soft and funny and it also has one of my favorite tropes–women realizing Jaime is safe and naturally befriending him.

8. though our paths diverge (I travel with you) by robotsdance

I thought this fic wouldn’t be for me. I am not the biggest fan of body swap, I don’t like how invasive it is and how it’s usually used to poke fun at gender in the worst way possible. then robotsdance said “hold my drink,” swooped me off my feet, and gave us this. it’s a wonderful, wonderful piece (all I’ve ever read by robotsdance is wonderful), layered and nuanced. It’s about the growing love between two people, the growing intimacy between them, the growing bond that leads them to protect each other in smaller, deeper ways each day. and it’s about how when you care about someone, you care about their body as well. It’s easy to forget we’re alive in body, too.

9. Her name is pronounced Victory by dwellingondreams 

the Brienne POV is just magnificent, it’s all I’ll say. and I’m always happy whenever Jaime is taken away sooner rather than later from his family.

10. Beast and the Beast by SigilBroken

had to make the list, right? this is the first JB fic I ever read, about a year ago, and it was the first fic I read in about a decade for anything at all. it reminded me it could be fun and exciting and I fell in love with the way each character has their own quest of sorts, and how they eventually decide to share their paths, finding things about themselves on the way through their interactions with the other.

[queenlua]

[ tries not to rattle off every PoR character for le meme ] uhhh soren, zihark? :D and/or plus one of the Ashen Wolves you were vibing with the most.

omg haha this is so long!  answers and fun times under the cut~

ZIHARK

how i feel about this character: i mean, he was the main character in the first damn fanfic i ever wrote, if that tells you anything :P  he is great.  he is so great.  i’m always so impressed when FE manages to render characters with nuance/balance, in such a small space, and that’s probably the main thing that comes to mind with him—there’s so much subtlety in the short interactions we see with him, so much depth.  i love chewing on it.

all the people i ship romantically with this character: zihark/[unnamed dead laguz girlfriend], heh.  uh.  i guess i did write that shinon/zihark crackfic once, didn’t i.  but honestly it’s really hard for me to see him in any pairing outside the dead girlfriend; if it existed it’d be of the sad and/or fucked up variety.  hm.  though if you killed off Haar you could maybe get some mileage out of Jill/Zihark, hmmmm…

my non-romantic OTP for this character: he is so!  sweet!  in his supports with brom & muarim!

also i’d love to see him and Soren interact more; i think they’d have some shit to say to each other, if they could get past Soren’s prickliness, but this does drift into fanon territory

my unpopular opinion about this character:  i think there’s like, three people on the planet who care about zihark, heh, not sure what an unpopular opinion would be :P  i do think there’s a fine line with him—i don’t think he’s like, just lying in wait ready to snap & go rampage-y at the right provocation, as he’s sometimes portrayed.  i also don’t think he’s entirely the smiles-and-sweetness that he presents to most people.  tricky to stay consistently in-between those, though!

one thing i wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon:  i do wish we’d known his girlfriend got murdered, y’know, before i wrote a fic that assumed otherwise, thanks for nothing Tellius artbook

my OTP: zihark/[unnamed dead laguz girlfriend]

my cross over ship:  nah

a headcanon fact:  honestly i’ve thought about this character enough i’m a little afraid i’ve lost track of where the canon ends and the headcanon begins

SOREN

how i feel about this character: i like him!  uh, i hesitate to say i *love* him, because like, he was *such* a fan favorite in Telliusland for so long that i know none of my love for the character can even remotely compare.  but i’m fond of him.  i like prickly little dead-committed-to-brutal-realism teenyboppers.

all the people i ship romantically with this character: ike/soren is fine; certainly can’t imagine anything else

my non-romantic OTP for this character: …lol.  i just went to look up his list of support conversations, to try and jog my memory, and i’d forgotten he literally only supports with Ike and Stefan.  god.  talk about some ludonarrative resonance; this boy is closed.  off.

i really enjoy writing scenes between Shinon and Soren, and between Zihark and Soren, but that’s just because they bring out the absolute antagonistic worst in each other.  kind of hard to get a warm reaction out of Soren.

though typing this out, there may be some potential for something interesting with him and Nasir, very very postgame.  kid’ll figure out the dragon connection eventually.  kid may reach out at some point.  and i think Nasir may be just the right mixture of cunning/canny/cynical and caring/warm to maybe connect with him a little bit.

o geez am i really getting new tellius fic ideas here in the year of our lord 2020

my unpopular opinion about this character: i think i find uh, codependence, less sexy than the average person.  like a lot of my favorite ships are “two badasses doing their own badass thing and then they catch a quick dinner together,” and this one is.  very much the opposite of that

one thing i wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon:  i’m a little torn.  sure, you could add more supports/interactions with other characters, but it’d really cramp the whole thing the game has going with his intense devotion to ike.  honestly i think what we’re given in game is pretty solid

my OTP:  see above

my cross over ship:  eh

a headcanon fact:  eh, struggling to think of something interesting here

YURI (THREE HOUSES)

how i feel about this character: i like him! but not overwhelmingly fond of him like i might’ve been when i was younger; i rambled about him here and here.  but he’s fun, just smug enough to be punchable in an endearing way :P

all the people i ship romantically with this character: i think his supports with Dorothea are great and super-cute with Hapi; i’m amused by the Balthus supports but the man’s a walking meme so it’s a little hard to take him seriously

my non-romantic OTP for this character: ashe, absolutely.  man there’s gotta be A Lot there

my unpopular opinion about this character: he’s not “better Claude” or “what Claude was supposed to be” or anything like that; the two characters are super super fundamentally different

one thing i wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon: the boy doesn’t get any supports with ashe?!  ffs?  really?

my OTP: not settled yet

my cross over ship:  nah

a headcanon fact:  i feel like you don’t get that buddy-buddy without catchin’ some of dat religion, son

[scoundrels-in-love]

Thoughts on your favourite fanfic genre?

That’d first mean I have to decide what’s my favorite fanfic genre is.

An argument could be made for Alternate Universe. Mostly because it includes Canon Divergence as well as completely off the hook AUs. It shows by the sheer amount of fics that I’ve written of this type. The amount of WIPs and ideas I still have in this vein.

But I do love my canon compliant fics, a little snuck in pieces that fill out spaces the writers didn’t have a chance or didn’t bother to explore. In fact, those were my first fanfictions. Finding the depth that I saw in canon and putting it in words, because it gave me so much feelings. One of my own personal, never finished Stranger Things fics is based on my math that Mike waited for her longer than the 353 days (357 in fact) and exploring the ‘calls’/conversations he had with her in the days of on-screen events of season 2. And I liked that premise and wish I could’ve finished it.

Some of the most formative fics of my life have also been of the type, gutting me so hard that I remember them a decade later, admire the way they were written. I will always be more touched by words than scenes on screen, it’s part of the reason. So, when words explore nuances of what’s on the screen, it can make me fall in love with something I only saw in passing. (If you want me to get in a ship or show - give me a good meta or fic. This is how I ended up in Braime fandom, let’s be real.)

And yet, I am also absolutely fascinated by AUs and canon divergence stories. I LOVE exploring the ‘what if that one (1) thing happened differently, how would entire lives change because of it?’. In my original writing with a friend, we created an intricate web of these what if AUs, from which another spawned and then another from that, so on. I like exploring what makes a character Them, what will remain unchanged despite everything else being completely different, maybe even forcing them to perhaps grow up in some ways different. I love exploring inevitability of some things. I love to see how many creative ways canon events can be bent and twisted and pushed into new frames to fit the new universe and happen to the characters. It literally takes my damn breath away when done well.

And the joy of receiving comment along the lines “this feels so them/yes, I can see that’s how they felt through those events” in both of the genres just... The best thing that can happen.

So, essentially, I’d say I, as always, have hard time picking one favorite and the reigning queens are these genres. Everything else is just subset to them. Which is also why I’ll read most everything as they can easily fall into these categories, basically everything does.

Whew, this got long, but you did ask for my thoughts, so... Oop.

Send me ‘thoughts on ___?’

[shadow-djinni]

Generalizations in Fandom

Or, some idiot on my dash made an underinformed comment about shipping trends and now I have to go prove them wrong.

I’m a day late with my griping, but much better-researched for it, which means this post (under the cut) is going to be even longer now.  Apologies in advance.  If you’d like to read my exceedingly long-winded griping, hit the readmore button.

A quick preface–and some background–to my complaining, which will be important going forward.  Though I’m by no means a fandom old, nor am I claiming that status, I’ve been in and around fandom for over eight years now, and have been an active content creator for seven and a half.  In that timeframe, I’ve been in and out of a wide range of fandoms, all with different fannish climates and behaviors, so I like to think I have a fair bit of experience in these spaces.

So, yesterday, a blog I had been following–which, up until this point, had expressed views on fandom I generally agreed with–made a post complaining about the proliferation of slash fic in fandom.  I’m not going to link the post or @ the blogger in question, mostly because I have no intentions of picking a fight with said blogger or with their fans, as I understand they have a relatively large following, but the post was something to the effect of “fandoms always lionize overwhelmingly white noncanon m/m ships at the expense of women and POC”.  Now, at a glance, that looks…correct, right?  At least considering the fandoms you usually see on Tumblr.  But that statement looks…really off to me, given my own lived experience, and the longer I looked the more off it looked, and the more complaints I had with it.

The first problem with this statement, and others like it: there is no such thing as a pan-fandom issue.  Statements like these posit that all fandoms, regardless of the source material, always have or develop the issue the poster sees and wishes to discuss.  It’s a good way to get attention, but it lacks the nuance to really support itself under scrutiny.  The truth of the matter is that the source material a fandom draws for has influence over the sort of fans who are drawn to it and the material they have to work with, which therefore effects the trends in tropes and shipping the fandom in question develops–and while broad similarities may be drawn across multiple fandoms with similar elements to them, no two fandoms develop alike, an effect which is compounded by differences in age, genre, and location of origin of the source material.  

For a personal example, I’ve been active in four fandoms I would consider strongly influential in terms of my taste in fiction and my writing ability and style.  Without getting overly specific, those fandoms are:

a video game franchise begun in the 80s, which has seen new installments released every 5-10 years

a magical girl manga (and later anime) produced in the early ‘00s, which has not seen new canon since

a popular and ongoing live action American movie series, which began release within the last decade

and, for good or ill, Voltron (an animated cartoon released in summer ‘16, which ran through December ‘18 with an utter shitstorm of a fandom)

If we believe statements such as the one above, one would expect that all four of those fandoms would have exactly the same inter-fandom issues, namely the sidelining of women and characters of color in favor of the white slash pairing of the day–but, having been in these fandoms, that’s true for exactly one of them.  I’d give you all three guesses, but let’s face it, the answer is obvious.  

It’s the live action American movie series.

In fact, the initial statement is fairly accurate when assessing that work, and other live action American movie series and television shows, and there’s a number of reasons why.  American live action media often gives disproportionate representation to white men, particularly when it comes to lead roles, while consigning women and POC to supporting roles.  As such, the (white, male) leads garner more development than the support roles, which makes the leads easier and more appealing for fic writers and shippers to work with.  Media with black leads, or other leads of color, also often have smaller fandoms overall, and as such don’t make the big, obvious waves large-scale fandoms like…say, Harry Potter or the MCU make on Tumblr.  

Canonical (female) love interests are also often sidelined by live action media fandoms, for a number of reasons–namely, in canon they are often granted less screentime, less depth, and less subjectivity than their male castmates, and are frequently treated as objects by the camera.  This makes it harder to empathize with them, especially given fandom is majority women who may be rendered too uncomfortable to work with the characters–there’s a good deal of baked-in misogyny that would need to be untangled from the character herself, and in most cases only the most committed of fans are actually going to sit down to do the work.

Now, mind you, these do not apply to all fandoms.  Voltron had some of the same problems with sidelining canonical love interests–but Voltron’s fandom flagships gag were between a half-human character of indeterminate ethnicity and two men of color, one of whom is canonically queer.  The magical girl manga fandom I mentioned above, ironically enough, has issues with sidelining a subtextually canonical f/f ship in favor of splitting the pair to put them in het ships.  And the video game fandom used to have issues with slash shippers in what was a majority het fandom, and still has lingering issues with slash depending on which corners of fandom you frequent.  

And yet, if I were to say “fandom has a problem with ignoring canonical queer subtext” or “fandom has a problem with inordinate aggression towards slash ships”, can you imagine the sort of ridicule I would face?  Most people discussing social issues in fannish contexts would look at me as though I’d sprouted a second head, when those issues are in fact present and in need of discussion–just not in the large, obvious fandoms in the Tumblrsphere, which seem to be the only fandoms these people consider deserving of discussion.

My second point can be summed up in a single sentence: it is not the responsibility of fandom to correct the issues present in the source canon.

No canon is perfect.  Creators are human, and flawed, and they will inevitably fuck up no matter how well they generally handle things.  And while those fuckups do impact the way the fandom creates (see my first point), fandom does not have a duty to fix those fuckups.  Fandom is not, and should not be, an activist space–it’s a creative space foremost, and it’s full of people with all sorts of baggage they pack in with them.  It’s unfair, and arguably cruel, to force people to engage with aspects of canon they find squicky, or even triggering, to ‘correct’ flaws in canon that your “activism” takes issue with.  (note: the link in the paragraph preceding this is mostly talking about shipping activism and while it makes some points about slash I disagree with, it makes plenty of good points about other sorts of fannish activism and the way fans who take their activism too far impact other fans and people unfamiliar with the source media)

And, additionally: unless you’re paying them, fan creators don’t owe you content.  Yes, even if they primarily create for that dreaded noncanon m/m ship and you’d rather they make content for your favored f/f ship.  Yes, even if your favored ship is actually canon, because there’s absolutely nothing wrong with shipping noncanon ships rather than canon ones–if I kept that mentality I wouldn’t create at all.  If you want content, you have to make it yourself, or commission it.

And, my final point: if you don’t enjoy things certain fandoms are doing, learn to use your blacklist and filters.

If, like the op of the post I’m complaining about, you’re tired of the proliferation of slash ships you have ideological disagreements with, blacklist them and the fandoms that produce them!  If there are particular common aus in a fandom you hate, figure out the tags and filter those!  Particular ‘hot takes’ you’re sick of seeing?  Seas of endless shitposts that make you roll your eyes?  One particular writer who does a ship you otherwise enjoy in a notably squicky way?  Blacklist, filter, and block.  

Because I guarantee you, no matter how many angry posts you make about people making content you personally dislike, you won’t make anyone stop producing it.

And you might even piss some of them off.

Now if you’ll all excuse me, I have a non-canon slash fic to work on.

[airagorncharda]

The Mary Sue, and internalized misogyny:

I agree that the types of characters nowadays who are accused of being a “Mary Sue” are usually just... women... 

Or at the very least, they’re not worse characters than male counterpart characters by any stretch of the imagination. Nowadays that term is thrown around to mean “She’s TOO GOOD AT STUFF!!” But... when I first got into fandom (early 2000′s) the term Mary Sue had a very SPECIFIC meaning, and it wasn’t “This woman threatens men with her competence!”

To my memory, a “Mary Sue” was a character 

who’s only flaws were superficial-- insignificant, cutesy, and stated but never shown, 

who was hyper-capable in literally all ways imaginable with no limits, and yet still needed to be rescued and cared for, 

who was described as “plain” by the author while actually being described as highly conventionally attractive in every way, 

etc., etc., you get the idea.

Mary Sues were BOTH highly attractive/competent/skilled/independent/etc., AND none of those things at once. And I don’t mean in the nuanced way of someone who is emotionally together in one context but not another, or skilled at certain things. I mean their skills, attractiveness, competency, and ultimately their character changed drastically to fit the narrative, rather than the other way around.

Mary Sues basically checked every box, while having no cohesive personality or depth. 

They remind me of the two dimensional love interests seen in so much of our media, except for one key difference, which is that Mary Sues are the main character. 

Being written by women and/or trans people raised with internalized misogyny (most commonly young women or teenage girls) in fandom, they’re a character written to fit all the impossible standards placed on women and girls at once-- which is of course literally impossible without making a character that is inherently a contradiction. Self conscious but conventionally beautiful, hyper-capable but needs to be saved-- in every category she is literally the best, while also being not Too Much. She’s feminine AND a tomboy. She’s outspoken AND shy. She’s “not like other girls”. If she’s rash and stubborn, then she’s also always right. 

The Mary Sue is everything society tells girls they have to be in order to be valuable, and as a result, she’s something sort of superhuman and also has no discernible personality or identity. 

Mary Sues were (and are) characters that I suspect are cathartic to write, and are also very hard for young first time female writers to NOT write. 

They’re dealing with misogyny from all sides, and they want to write a story about a character they WISH they were. They WISH they could be everything our bullshit patriarchy tells them they should be, and tells them that they’re worthless if they’re not. This is also why so many Mary Sues are self inserts; they wish they could be part of their favorite stories. 

It’s a perfectly reasonable response to our society to write about a character who is ALL of those things, and it’s not fair or reasonable to have a problem with people who do so.

I still, however, think there’s worth in at minimum being able to describe the type of character this term was critiquing, because while it’s absolutely valuable for the author to be able to WRITE it...

It can be frustrating and boring to read.

It’s not compelling to read about a flawless two dimensional character, and characters like these tend to fall into other frustrating tropes as well, such as Obliviously Beautiful, the Invincible Hero, and Protagonist Centered Morality to name just a few. And while the act of writing a Mary Sue may be a feminist act for the one doing it (creating a female main character who feels personally empowering), the tropes and traits utilized to create characters like this come directly out of a misogynistic society. Women do not have to be beautiful or hyper-competent to be likable, and they don’t have to be likable to be worth reading about. Women do not have to be superhuman, and people are less interesting when they don’t have flaws.

That’s why people came up with the term to begin with, to be able to describe something they saw in fandom that they found frustrating or didn’t want to read. 

I don’t, personally, think there’s a problem with Mary Sues existing, but I do think the term has value. 

It’s frustrating to me that the term Mary Sue may have been irreparably corrupted  Being able to say “This fic feels like a wish-fulfillment self-insert written by someone who is either young or still full of internalized misogyny, and if that’s not something you enjoy then I don’t think you want to read it” HAS VALUE and is IMPORTANT to be able to say in fandom spaces. 

For the record, I’m also not saying that most people who used this term back in the day did so with self awareness of everything I’ve just outlined. It was a sort of nebulous definition based on how people felt about a character (and has only become more so), and a lot of people knee-jerk reacted to other people’s female OCs that they didn’t like with slapping “Mary Sue” onto them. However, as I’ve said, I still think the tropes it was most often critiquing deserve to be at minimum labelled if not outright critiqued. 

We may not ever get this term back to it’s original meaning, but I hope that if we can’t, we are at least able to come up with a succinct term to replace it. 

[nyxelestia]

I think I'm going to merge two of my AUs into one: "Everyone Has a Story" and "Winter Wolves.

My most popular series is Winter Wolves. But, believe or not, that wasn't originally the AU I prioritized the most. No, my most valued AU was Everyone Has a Story - a rewrite of the show as I wish it'd gone, with a lot more attention to character development and less fridging.

The thing is, a lot of the Teen Wolf worldbuilding of Winter Wolves is just stuff I originally thought up of for Everyone Has a Story, adapted to a world with the MCU in it. I actually still have twice as many notes for Everyone Has a Story than I do Winter Wolves! I did a tremendous amount of supernatural worldbuilding for the Everyone Has a Story series, but at the rate I'm going, it'll be literal decades before I get to use them in EHAS, and meanwhile, I keep using those ideas for Winter Wolves.

I detail some of the reasoning for it under the cut, but tl;dr version is that the plots would combine really well, and it would give a lot of story to some characters in Winter Wolves that I didn't originally have as much planned for. Granted, a lot of EHAS story would get lost when combined with WW, but honestly, that AU wasn't that popular, anyway, so I wouldn't call it a huge loss.

Plot(s)

The general plots of Everyone Has a Story and Winter Wolves are the same - in that neither of them were contingent on a dramatic change of the plot of Teen Wolf. For both of them, I was going to follow the plot of Teen Wolf while changing it for the purposes of that AU (though both would also diverge further away from canon as time went on).

And ironically, while I'd originally planned for them to both go completely off the canon rails by Seasons 5 and 6 (since most of this was getting planned back during and after Season 4). But Season 6B has actually ended up playing right into the themes I have planned for both those series. *shrugs* Go figure.

Honestly, a lot of my "season"/Teen Wolf plot rewrites for Winter Wolves are watered down versions of what I'd planned for Everyone Has a Story (mostly watered down for breadth/space in the story, rather than depth/complexity).

I'm thinking of sort of abruptly ending the Everyone Has a Story "series' where it is, and instead re-establishing "Everyone Has a Story" as a fic/sub-series within Winter Wolves. The "plot' of Everyone Has a Story would get cut out, focusing primarily - almost exclusively - on character development. The "actual" plot would be Talking Cure, and Everyone Has a Story would be wrapped around that.

I think it says something that it would take very little retconning and editing of Everyone Has a Story, as it currently is, to make it "compliant" with Winter Wolves.

I feel like this would also be easier on readers. Partially because if I kept them as two separate stories, then reading them would get repetitive. But also because, weaving them into one story would make updating them easier.

Character Development

This would involve a lot of greatly expanded and nuanced expansions of characters who I didn't have much planned for in Winter Wolves. Jackson and Danny would take a much more prominent role, especially. Danny's story from EHAS involved, among other things, a sexual assault subplot that was gonna go to some pretty dark places, which could either match up perfectly with the hints of a Rising Tide background for his WW story, or completely work against it. Not sure, yet.

Though this merger would probably mean cutting out a pretty funny abortion subplot. I mean, hopefully I'll find a way to work it into the merger, but I'm not exactly counting on it, either...

The downside is that that I'm probably going to lose Cora. She was barely in EHAS, and not in WW at all. Since I'm keeping Erica alive, I was going to 'keep' her dead/not miraculously bring her back to life for just a few episodes and then pretend it never happened. *side-eyes Teen Wolf* But her plot from EHAS was already incongruent with the story as it was (I wasn't too happy with it), and 'keeping' her dead works out a lot better for Derek's story and the worldbuilding in general. Kinda sorry, but I don't want to include a character just for the sake of it when I don't have much of a story planned for her.

The other confounding factor will be the twins, especially Aiden. I guess I'll wait and see what happens to Ethan in 6B to be sure, but Aiden's EHAS story and WW story don't mesh together very well, or even outright contradict each other, even though they ironically end the same way. Ethan's EHAS story will either fall on one extreme of really not working well with the Winter Wolves universe, or will work really well with it.

The downside is that some characters' stories would be pretty fundamentally incompatible. In particular, Everyone Has a Story was originally built around Scott, Stiles, and Allison as a "core" of the AU, so their stories would get subsumed to Winter Wolves, and most of my EHAS plans for them would be lost.

Gender and Sexuality

I guess I also have mixed feelings about the taking the greater role of gender and sexuality from EHAS and introducing it to Winter Wolves. But overall, I think it would be a good move. All too often, trans characters and queer characters (outside of gay white males/queer fetishization) tend to not be included in fanfic that much, or they appears predominantly in fanfic that is about someone being trans or non-binary or a asexual or whatever.

A big theme of EHAS is that, being teenagers, a lot of the characters are sometimes exploring their gender or sexuality - but at the same time, it always takes a backseat in the story, not because their identities aren't important, but because life-and-death supernatural shenanigans are the main focus. Trans and non-binary and queer characters can have stories that aren't about their identities just as much as straight/heternormative characters do in mainstream media and cis-slash/gay ones do in fandom.

I like the idea of furthering this with Winter Wolves - i.e. teenagers exploring gender and sexuality in the context of not just supernatural drama, but the politics and chaos of the MCU as well. I just don't want those stories to get too marginalized or underwritten, either. This will be a pretty tricky balance to maintain.

Jackson's is going to be the most confounding. His plot was heavily dependent on Season 3, and involved him coming to terms with his asexuality (and still working out a relationship with Lydia who had to come to terms with being aromantic, yet still having quite a libido). In Winter Wolves, though, he's not going to be around for Season 3. I hope I can work it into Season 4. I enjoyed this arc specifically because they were portrayed as highly sexual or romantic in the first two seasons. While not true for everyone, some aces and aros "overcompensat" for their lack of the attraction in their youth, so I wanted to explore these characters from that angle.

Kind of a mixed bag on a trans arc. The only real story I had planned for Cora, herself, was about her being trans. But as I mentioned, a big part of EHAS was that while exploration of sexualities and gender identities was a huge part of the characters' stories, it wasn't the center or entirety of their stories - but I didn't have much of an arc for Cora. I don't want to keep a character around just for the hell of it, or tokenize a trans characer. On the flip side, while I do have a story planned for Hayden, it's a little shallow - mostly just because I was waiting to see how her story would end (I hadn't known until 6B started that she wouldn't be in it), so I hadn't gotten around to it, yet. For a variety of reasons, her being trans would actually work pretty well with the story, and this way, I wouldn't just have a 'token trans character', and could have a pretty solid story about Hayden being a trans girl that isn't contingent on her being trans. (Not to mention that while Hayden's story isn't dependent on Liam, her having a trans arc would actually play well into Liam's arc.)

I've got mixed feelings on how I'm going to include Stiles' story. He's pretty firmly bisexual and that's never really a question for him. But in EHAS, a pretty dark consequence of the nogitsune so thoroughly mind-raping him is that Stiles basically loses his sense of bodily autonomy, which leads to some pretty unhealthy sexual practices and attitudes towards his own body. It fit well with the themes and structure of EHAS, but I'm not sure how well it would work in Winter Wolves, which is a lot more plot-oriented than EHAS, and in which Stiles' arc is a lot more specific to his mental state, rather than his 'relationship with his body' so to speak. Not sure how well I can keep both of these balanced, but I think I can work something out. The downside is that this subplot for Stiles in EHAS was also heavily dependent on Derek, whereas right around the time it's happening is right around when Derek leaves Beacon Hills for a bit in Winter Wolves. (Don't worry, he comes back, and a lot sooner than in canon!)

Gonna be interesting to try to work demisexual!Scott into Winter Wolves, though. His love life in Winter Wolves is, in style, kind of a mish-mash of Bucky's and Steve's comic-book love lives, so it'll be simultaneously very easy and very difficult to rework that around demisexuality.

For most of the other characters, though, my plans for them in EHAS should work out nicely with WW.

Politics

I guess one downside is I'll lose a specific element of worldbuilding with this merger - supernatural politics.

A huge element of the worldbuilding, and the "expansion" of the plot, from EHAS, involved some nuanced supernatural politics...especially a somewhat more realistic take. I've seen a lot of urban fantasy politics, including in Teen Wolf fanfics, that read an awful lot like high fantasy politics jam-packed into a contemporary environment. It's a bit like fitting a square peg into a round hole. I wanted to take on what supernatural politics would look like in the modern world.

But the MCU already has so much politics as it is, that while I could "start" the political storylines from EHAS in Winter Wolves, the reality is most of them would get subsumed pretty fast by the superhuman politics of Winter Wolves/the MCU.

That said, I'll definitely preserve one of those 'political' subplots: the Hunters. Specifically, when Allison changes the Code, she fucking changes the code. While the Argents aren't the only Hunting family, they are the most prominent and longest-lasting, and the leader of the Argent family is often an implicit leader of Hunters as a whole. But that doesn't mean they are the leader, and Allison still has a bit of an uphill battle in effecting real, systemic change. At the same time, Hunters aren't a monolith - even as a lot of people oppose the changes she's trying to make, many Hunters support it, and have been quietly shifting in that direction for a while, anyway. This merges quite nicely with what I have planned for Winter Wolves.

Similar deal with Scott. While not at all a leader like Allison is, being a True Alpha does give Scott some unique abilities even for an alpha, and does get him a lot of attention and a certain amount of wary respect among werewolves, and supernatural creatures in general. He does have to deal with that a lot, which I can carry over from EHAS to WW - though WW actually turns this up to 11, which means the actual, original EHAS story of him dealing with it will likely go out the window.

Stiles' political subplot also goes out the window, but mostly because magic takes a greatly reduced role in WW compared to EHAS. In WW, I'm taking a very scientific bent on the supernatural (as anyone who watches Thor or Agents of SHIELD has likely already started to suspect), whereas in EHAS is was still much closer to the 'fantasy' part of Urban Fantasy. On top of that, Stiles already has a superhero-related political arc in WW, one which is pretty incompatible with his supernatural/magic political arc from EHAS.

[blindrapture]

After the break, the remainder of this post will be Andrew Hussie’s newspost from 11/08/14. In it, he goes pretty in-depth about the symbolism and intent of Homestuck’s GAME OVER flash. I wanted to share this because it’s one of the most concise examples I can think of that stresses why I still think he’s goddamn lovely. It also contains his own rather clear declaration that he prefers Death Of The Author over Word Of God (”Now, since they can no longer depend on answers which I supply between horse jokes and snappy retorts, they are lost in the woods to fend for themselves against the wolves of dubious fanalysis.“), a sentiment which echoes darkly through the fandom these days. You could argue he pretty much spends most of the newspost trying to explain how to read the ending to come. And plus I can say this is a #ThrowbackFrihorse thing, even though it’s nowhere near Friday.

Spoilers ahead, those of you who have not yet finished reading Homestuck.

Andrew: There comes a time in every young Homestuck's life when they must face the fact that a notable comic author has swindled them into getting on a bus labeled "cool updates", only to swerve said bus off the highway and into a precipitous gulch of unmitigated sadstuck. But the old wives tale says that sadstuck was just a thing that happened in our fanfics, the bus children wailed. That's what they said about the tricksters too, a veteran child in the back replied. They said the tricksters would never see the light of canon, but where are the doubters now? Where are they now. Propping up six feet of dirt is where. The veteran child is weirding everybody out, so they stop looking at him, and turn to the driver. But the driver is now a spooky skeleton and the kids lose their shit. The skeleton head does a creepy 180, and speaks his scary curse. Heed me bus youths, for I am the ghost of future sadstuck. I have traveled back in time and am on a bus for some reason I guess, to punish you for your maudlin fics. For every time you murmured sadstuck while having a feeling, for every fic you pastebinned by candlelight, my curse has grown stronger, and my legend, dumber. Then the skeleton ran out of stuff to say, and looking a little embarrassed, turned around again to keep driving. Then he screamed once he remembered the bus was falling. Thanks for listening to my short story. We like to have a good time here at MS Paint Adventures, The Website. The gigaplay is off to a rocky start of unhewn feels. If your kerchief has become too soggy with tears from emotion, skeleton terror, or just plain admiration for my skill as a short story writer (can't blame you there), and you wish to lighten the mood, I recommend moseying over to Paradox Space, which is currently running a 24 page comic I have written about Crowbar. I am alert to the desires of readers every single day, and the one thing I hear them clamor for above all else, is more stories about CROWBAR. We want more content about Crowbar, RIGHT NOW, they say, and make that content consist of 24 beautifully illustrated comic pages, MINIMUM. I just give the people what they want. Fortunately, Homestuck's Premier Felt Fan #1 Jones was available to do a spectacular job of illustrating this comic. My rambling noir-style monologues have never before overlapped such lovely artwork. GOD TIER TALK! I don't answer Q's about Homestuck much anymore. It was a practice which I think used to be some people's lifeline for decoding the enigmatic runes of this story. Now, since they can no longer depend on answers which I supply between horse jokes and snappy retorts, they are lost in the woods to fend for themselves against the wolves of dubious fanalysis. Pulling the ripcord on the Homestuck machine again, combined with recent story events, makes me think something FAQQY may be in order. The thing is, when you make a big story, and allude to rules for a complicated system dictating mortality, people tend to REALLY, REALLY want to understand how it works. Speculation naturally fills the vacuum in lieu of concrete data. Theories are crafted. Headcanons, congealed. Then, when additional data is presented (DEAD KIDS), which happen to chafe with fanon constructs, feelings run ragged, and Bullshit is called. Then Bullshit shows up, and says, you rang? And the fanonistas say, yes Bullshit. Look at this mess. LOOK at it. This in NO WAY jives with my views on what constitutes heroism and justice. Bullshit nods sagely while lighting its pipe. Earlier in HS when god tier folk were more scarce, the story was more cagey about these verdicts. The Vriska ruling was presented as a close call, which maybe could have gone either way. Then Slick smacked the clock to Just before it could settle, leaving the true verdict ambiguous, and the 'moral debate' intact, so to speak. But now that there are a lot of god tiers running around, with the stakes raised and the body count piling up, the game (or, story) is starting to be more liberal with its rulings. As in, more likely to come down hard on Just, Heroic, or Neither verdicts without intervention or obfuscation, helping us better understand the boundaries of heroic and just action through example. Not necessarily by moral definitions, but as dictated by the rules of a game. So that turns the story guy (sometimes known as an "author") into something like a ref at a basketball game. He blows the whistle when he sees the basketball guy (the "baller") take a half step without bouncing the ball. The home team crowd does not detect the subtle violation and goes boooooo! Those homers can boo all they want, but you know, the guy is really just some bozo with a whistle. The rules are the rules! There's reason to think there is a nuanced scale ranging from Heroic to Just inside the clock. There may be many shades of justice and heroism, some forms just barely qualifying to seal one's fate. But there's nothing nuanced about Alive vs. Dead. The result of a coin flip is absolute, even though there may be many subtle factors contributing to which side it lands on. Such as whether the coin is pure of heart, and whether the table it lands on has ever killed a man. You get a sense for the nuance of the judgment when it comes to these "close calls", like with Vriska, or more recently, with Jade. In her case, she was subject to mind control when she racked up her misdeeds, which ordinarily would probably exempt her. But it wasn't ordinary mind control. More like flipping an "evil switch", removing her ethical filter, thereby letting he personality come through, and giving her license to act on impulses which she'd ordinarily suppress. So this gives the clock something to work with. Still, her behavior is compromised, so it's by no means a slam dunk. (BASKET BALL! that is still the metaphor.) So it's very close, and perhaps the clock even spares her... except for Aranea, whose luck lets close calls break in her favor, and nudges that needle one hair to the Just side. Very unlikely that happens if it's not close already though. Jane's situation is basically the same, and so is her verdict. How about Jake? He's the only player who's had two rulings. The first time, he was blustering Ronald Reagan quotes at the top of his lungs when Jane forked him, which I think we may agree safely disqualifies him from heroism (though the Republican party may disagree). The second time was ruled Heroic, when he took a realmaginary ninja sword through the chest for a friend. This corresponds pretty closely with most people's definition of heroic, so I doubt anyone would consider this one controversial either. Dave? Probably not much to debate here either. Fighting while attempting to save a dead friend, to bring her back to Jane for resurrection. There's a moral element here, tied to common ideas of heroism, so there's not much in dispute. When factors stray somewhat from moral notions of heroism, that's when there is more fuel for debate. So what about Rose? Wasn't John killed by Jack under similar circumstances to how Rose died? So why did he survive, and Rose didn't? The circumstances were very similar, on the surface. But I would suggest that the similarity of the two situations, both leading to different outcomes, helps clarify the rules in play, not confuse them. The reason for this? SCIENCE. If you were a scientist in this fictional world, trying to test this fictional construct, these are the exact kinds of situations you would seek out to prove or disprove whatever hypothesis you had. Situations that are very similar, with most factors isolated, and varying only in minor and controlled ways. That's how you would start to understand where the line is between heroic and non-heroic conduct. So what varies between the situations? What line does Rose cross which John doesn't? It becomes pretty obvious if you break the two scenes down. John was standing there, poised for battle with Jack, for all of two seconds before Jack auto-stabbed him from behind. Not even to speak of the underhanded tactic by the villain, I think what's more important is John didn't even get a chance to move. Or specifically, to prove through action that he was prepared to do battle with a foe. In fact, hindsight may tell us he wasn't. He hadn't been through much then. But years later, when he reenacted that scene with Jack through a dream bubble, he was ready that time. He had years to think about that moment, to reflect on the damage caused by Jack, and what he might have done differently if he'd been more prepared, and if the battle wasn't cut short. But during the first encounter, there was no time for heroic intent to translate into action. Compare with Rose's situation. Her feelings are unambiguous. Her mind is made up, and committed to action in the form of forward motion. Sorry Rose, you took a few too many steps through the paint on your drive to the hoop. Gotta blow the whistle! The two similar situations illustrate where one of the lines are for heroism (as a game rule, not moralistically), and in this case, that line is action. It would seem it's not good enough just to have heroic intentions or bold feelings. It doesn't cut it to strike a pose and look cool for two seconds. The intent should be expressed through commitment to an action. The action is what proves the intent. For all we know, John wasn't ready to back up his posture. For all we know, he was terrified! Rose wasn't though. Her action proved it. Why does Rose lashing out in vengeance count as heroic? If you wanted my personal opinion on heroism, I would say a vengeful act is not heroic by itself. We all have our ideas on what heroism means. But I think this is the wrong question to ask. The concern here is less about the moral definition of a heroic act, and more about how heroism is defined in terms of a series of rules which a game system can enforce. Based on some evidence we have, and some things Doc once said about god tier immortality, it's pretty safe to make at least one generalization about heroism as a game construct. The game/story regards your behavior as Heroic if you make some effort to defeat or kill someone who is villainous (or in other words, someone worthy of a Just death). The state of the hero's mind is just an additional consideration, such as whether they happen to be motivated by anger or vengeance. But let's imagine for a moment that a vengeful act is automatically unworthy of heroism, even if directed against a great evil. Wouldn't this be a MAJOR loophole for god tiers to avoid dying heroic deaths? It would mean to qualify as a hero, you couldn't feel anger toward a villain who has almost certainly done something to provoke anger. If a hero ever experienced loss at the hands of a villain, their natural emotional state would exempt them from the heroic consequence of the actions resulting from that anger. They would be completely invulnerable to a villain, so long as they maintained a grudge! The thing with villains is, they tend to have a way of inflicting loss on others. If being wronged precluded heroic behavior, villains would suddenly discover heroes to be incredibly rare commodities. There's a lot to think about here. It's a combination of how you want to morally define heroism and justice, and how to pragmatically construct enforceable rules to that effect. The latter is something that can get very technical, and boil down to hairline actions such as whether one exhibits clear enough forward motion or such, roughly the way sports are officiated. There's no way I'll ever come up with a full list of rules, or even get much deeper into the rules than I have here. But I believe this is a rational outline for the way the subject may be examined, if you wish to do so!!!