#it's great that none of this is even remotely important to the plot for like half the book and even then just barely

[dyrewrites]

Happy WBW! Do plate tectonics exist in your world? What did the world look like three hundred million years ago?

Ooh, fun ones!

Since this is world-building and not discussing, I'm going to try and answer with Pale Blood's world of Morne - which I do not know enough about yet.

(editing to add a cut because I did not see how long this got whups)

First answer;

It is a misshapen ball of rock, ice, blasted deserts and vast chaotic forests of varying climates that was once regular victim to the debris of massive creatures battling just outside its atmosphere. Much of the mess outside the only surviving city exists for this reason. There are megafauna that grew to replace some landmasses for this reason as well, birthed by the magic leaking from scales, teeth, blood and bones that once rained from the skies.

That bit was important to explain that yes, there are tectonics! Though not all of it is natural in the way we might think of it. There were many continents once, but the constant barrage from the skies prompted much of it to snuggle up close; in the hopes it would hurt less that way. Now there is only the one, and it's a big one, but sometimes bits of it break off to go for a swim through the frigid waters - setting off quakes and making a mess of whatever is living on it - and it doesn't always come back.

Dolor survives largely because it is landlocked and, while few living there would admit it, the fall of the moon wyrm and erection of the barrier between city and Wylds has really cut down on the fear of the lands beneath it getting up and walking away.

Second answer;

Three hundred million years ago, Morne was a perfectly round pebble of a thing floating aimlessly through space. Not even a planet. It was more of an asteroid, broken from some long-dead moon that maybe orbited a planet and a sun but those had wasted away and burnt out. It was content to float in chill nothingness, with the microscopic things wriggling in its dust and rock to keep it company.

But, to the eyes of two cosmic wanderers, Morne was a shiny bauble too pretty to let pass them by. Both were known, to their own, as wyrms; immense and powerful serpents that soared through space, feeding on whatever crunchy bits of stardust they could. Som, the perceived male of the two, grabbed the little rock first. He coiled around it and his warm flesh and bright, hot gaze burned along its surface, forcing it to bubble and burst with towering mountains and ignited something in the microscopic life within. Then Vi, his sister, wrested it from him and her icy flesh and dark, cool eyes chilled the burns her brother left and drew the waters from deep within its heart out in raging rivers to nourish the budding life.

Soon, Morne had seas, it had mountains and it had life; if simple life.

The two would fight over their shiny bauble for millions of years after, with the day and night cycles of the world they'd made shifting depending on who held it. To those growing on the planet, they appeared as merely the sky, in its various shades and cloud or star-cover, with two glaring suns or two glowering moons.

Eventually, they would share their names, through the growls that shook the trees and stuttered mountain tops. Though it wouldn't be until the first creature stood upright and began to speak...and proclaimed themselves Gods for the privilege.

[thechaoticplayer]

hihi <3 hope ur having a great day ! Seeing as your requests are open ... May I request Claude & shu using cock warming as a punishment :( I'm in love with your whole blog omg we need more niji writers </3

Author's note: OMAIGOSH TANK YUU 😭😭😭😭 real tho where u mfs at (stares at moots with a loving yet threatening gaze) I'm having a great... morning? I wrote this at 4 am chat go high or go low

Summary: aw shucks, you fucked up :[ COCK WARMING FOR PUNISHMENT FROM CLAUDE AND SHU 💥💥💥 (doesnt seem like a punishment tbh- I'll stop) Contains: nsfw, cockwarming, teasing, f! reader, Shu x reader, claude x reader, praises with a side of degradation, might be slightly ooc None of my works are proofread!

CLAUDE CLAWMARK

"Claude," you whine, squirming atop Claude's lap. "When can I-?"

The cleric quickly hushes you, leaving forward with your back pressed against his chest. "You decided to bother me during such a important time. It's your own fault."

Your core pulsates around his cock, walls fluttering as you roll your hips a bit. A groan, and Claude digs his nails into your thigh. Tears form in your eyes from the sting, as well as the torturous non-movement of his dick inside your warmth. However, his attention remains glued to the damn TV, one hand on the remote and the other pinning you down against him.

You feel so incredibly hot and bothered, Claude filling you up but not getting the sweet feeling of his length pistoning in and out of you like usual. His pre-cum covering your gummy walls, his rough chest against your back, legs spread wide for him for easier access, his whispers hot in your ear while he fucks you hard and slow. His sharp nails deep in your waist, not enough to bleed, but enough to leave a delicious sting and marks that are guaranteed to stay for a while. Your heat swallowing him each time he bottoms out, the squelching noises combining with the sounds of lewd moans and skin slapping skin. That string inside drawn taut inside you as your slick covers his pelvis, the stickiness from your legs proof of your arousal. Back arched, eyes rolled back, hands clenching the bedsheets, moaning the cleric's name like a whore. All the while he praised you for how good you're taking him, how you're being such a good girl for him while he fucks you relentlessly. His thrusts getting sloppy as he gets close as well, and you clamp hard around him. Claude tosses his head back with a drawn out moan as he empties his louds inside you, coating your insides with a white you always craved. You squirting hard around his girth, dripping down and all over the bed sheets. They'd have to get washed, but you didn't care. Not while he was making you feel so good.

But that wouldn't happen for a good while, not while Claude is playing this game. No matter how much you beg and plead for him to move, this is your punishment for not obeying him <3

SHU YAMINO

"So when you get this answer," Shu explains, circling an equation. "This is the y-intercept. So you'd plot down the points on the graph like so. And then you have to find the x-intercept, which is when you basically plug in the value for y into the equation to get x. Afterwards, you plot it down on the graph. However, we aren't done. To find the range and domain..."

God, he kept blabbing on and on. Don't get it wrong, you absolutely adored the sorcerer, but how did he think you were gonna focus with you on his dick? You could barely keep up with any of the numbers thrown about and letters... his veins throbbing inside you as you twitch here and there, your core searing hot. The head of his cock nestled against your g-spot as he had you at a certain angle, one that was slowly driving you insane.

"Hey," Shu says, slapping your thigh, making the area red. "Are you paying attention?"

"M-mhm!" You nod vigorously, squinting down at the paper. The words and numbers swirled around on the page as you tried to obtain your focus. "The... something about the horizontal asymptote? Right?"

"I didn't even say anything about that," Shu chides, thrusting up into your cunt and ripping a moan out of you. You grip the edge of the table, arms and legs shaking. "Now I see why you aren't doing so well in class. You don't pay attention. No wonder your classmates call you an idiot."

"Shu please..." You gasp. "Please..."

"As I was saying..." Shu continues on, as if he didn't hear your pleas. His cock deep inside you, unmoving, causing tears to brim your eyes. The redness on your thighs would continue to spread as Shu degraded you and slapped you, scolding you for not focusing. The few thrusts and rolls of his hips here and there barely offering you any kind of relief from the sorcerer. He was going to make you learn and remember.

[mikkeneko]

What we miss when we don't talk about friendship (in MDZS)

I'd like to open with the statement that this is not about shipping -- none of my thesis is to say "don't ship this" or "this ship isn't real." People can and have shipped whatever the hell they want and should continue to do so for as long as it makes you happy. It's not even a question of "sure you can ship it but it's not CANON," because the MXTX canon is wonderfully good at being ambiguous and supporting multiple interpretations.

What this thesis is to say is that some of these themes and motifs to explore are about friendship, and they don't tend to get talked about much, because people are mostly focused on the romantic and sexual dimensions of a dynamic. Romantic and sexual dimensions are great, but they don't annihilate or even subsume platonic dimensions -- yes, sometimes you can be a lover and a friend, but sometimes you can just be a friend and not a lover and that's no less important. As a post I saw recently said which stuck with me -- don't remember the poster, alas, but it was something in the vein of -- "it's not about the intensity of the relationship, but the flavor of it." Platonic character dynamics can be just as obsessive and consuming as romantic dynamics, they can be discussed and analyzed separately without needing to invalidate romantic and sexual dynamics.

So! That disclaimer aside, let's talk about: FRIENDSHIP IN MDZS, and what we miss when we don't talk about friendship as a dynamic in this story separate from romantic and sexual interest. Friendship shows up repeatedly in this story with its own sub-plots and arcs and undercurrents and hazards separate from the romance that's going on, and it's mostly going on with the Lans.

Part 1: Lan Xichen and friendship

A cornerstone of this analysis has to do with a meta post I read very early on in the fandom about the Lans when viewed through a Confucian lens. Lan Qiren in particular is a very, very Confucian character, and he raised his nephews to those traditions and values. The pertinent one here is the topic of the "Five relationships" which outline the relationships that a man of authority can expect to have throughout his lifetime: self to ancestors, self to descendents, self to authorities and subordinates, self to marriage partners, and self to friends. Each one comes with a set of strictures and requirements which when added up combine to a world that is very, very emotionally taxing and extremely short on interpersonal and emotional support. He is expected to obey and submit to guidance from his seniors, but he can't ask them for help. He is expected to lead and govern his subjects, but he can never be wrong or show weakness or doubt. It's especially important, I think, that Lan Xichen is raised to expect that even any romantic relationship he might have (read: marriage to a woman) would not actually be emotionally supportive to him in any meaningful way; it would be another set of obligations to uphold, another place he would be expected to be remote and poised and never show weakness or ask for help.

The exception is friendship. Friendship is the only relationship structure Lan Xichen can have in his life that has any hope of actually being nurturing and emotionally supporting to him, a place he can let down his guard and ask for help with the expectation of receiving it. It becomes very clear from very early on that friendship means everything to Lan Xichen as a character. He enters the story with a strong, supportive friendship with one of the only true peers a man of station can have (Nie Mingjue) and it's clear that this has formatively set his expectation of what a friendship can and should be. Lan Xichen really wants to be the Friendship Is Magic guy. He believes that friendship is the best way to solve problems, and that everybody would be able to solve their problems if only they had a friendship like his, and that belief is a lot of what runs him into a meat grinder later in the story. He thinks that Nie Mingjue and Jin Guangyao are capable of maintaining a friendship post-war, and does not understand why they cannot, and his attempts to friend-matchmake the two of them ultimately lead both to disaster.

Part 2: Lan Wangji and friendship

The header says Lan Wangji, but this is actually about Lan Xichen again, and about Wei Wuxian. A pretty common joke in the fandom is that Lan Xichen is "the #1 WangXian shipper," that he recognizes Lan Wangji's sexual and romantic attraction to Wei Wuxian from very early on and supports him in pursuing such a relationship. It's a nice joke, but I think it misses the mark, because the looming specter of their parents' disastrous and traumatic marriage means that Lan Xichen would never approach the idea of his brother entering into a romantic relationship so cavalierly. (Lan Qiren, in some ways, had a clearer notion of what shape Lan Wangji's interest in Wei Wuxian had the potential to be than Lan Xichen did, perhaps because he doesn't have the same obsession with friendship; if he has any close friendships of his own, we're not shown them.)

Lan Xichen is not encouraging Lan Wangji to have a romantic summer fling. Lan Xichen encourages his association with Wei Wuxian specifically because he thinks Lan Wangji needs friends. Not just in the sense of any parent or adult wanting their child to make friends, but specifically in the context of these restrictive hierarchical relationships that hem in their world. Lan Xichen is afraid that Lan Wangji will be alone, and emotionally starved, and have no one he can ask for help or rely on, because that is his experience of a world without friendship. (Lan Wangji, of course, is not in the same position as Lan Xichen because he has Lan Xichen to rely on.) Lan Xichen wants Lan Wangji to have the same kind of friendship that he himself has with Nie Mingjue, and he thinks that Wei Wuxian has the potential to be that kind of friend. That is the context in which he encourages their association, and tries to arrange for them to have time together, and to become closer; not as a potential romantic partner but as a steadfast emotional and logistical support through Lan Wangji's adult life.

If Lan Xichen knew that Lan Wangji would fall in love with Wei Wuxian (had already started to,) I'm not at all sure that he would have encouraged that. In pretty much any arc past the Lan Lectures, he doesn't, both because Wei Wuxian stopped being a good candidate for supportive friendship (he's clearly got too much of his own shit going on) and because he realizes that what is developing in Lan Wangji bears very little resemblence to his own relationships. He might not outright try to sabotage the relationship but he's clearly worried about its potential to bring disaster on Wangji -- and he's very correct to be worried, as it turns out.

Part 3: Lan Sizhui and friendship

So, All Of That Happens; Wei Wuxian dies, Lan Wangji is laid low for years and seems poised to grieve for the rest of his life; Nie Mingjue dies and takes Lan Xichen's support with him. Now we come to the present day, and the present day has Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi.

Let's take a moment to step back and ask from an analytical perspective: Why is Lan Jingyi, as a character, in the story? Assuming that in a novel as polished as MDZS, each element is included for good reasons. Why is Lan Jingyi in the story and why is he Lan Sizhui's best friend? In the new world we're introduced to, the Lan are already represented, and very positively represented by Lan Sizhui. Lan Jingyi provides a convenient avenue for both exposition-dumping and sass -- saying the things that everyone else is too polite to say -- but we could have gotten that through another character (Jin Ling also plays this role) or introduced another Junior who isn't Lan, like Ouyang Zizhen. Why is it important to the story that Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi are friends?

The Juniors in general represent hope for the world to change, hope for the new generation. In Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi, we see that the terrible loneliness that drove their seniors to disaster in the previous generation, is averted. Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi have a friendship that is close and true, and we are never given reason to doubt it. Their priorities are aligned; it's unlikely that Sect politics or personality conflicts will ever drive them apart. They have what Lan Xichen craved: a friendship that will support them through tragedy and disaster. Their friendship stands to demonstrate that in the new generation, things will get better.

[evergreen-lyricist]

i feel like a lot of writers need to attend the Lego Ninjago School of Plot & Stakes Escalation, if only bc most of them don't seem to know how to raise the stakes without just making up an even more powerful villain to fight. like, yeah sometimes you defeat the villain but they're actually just a henchperson to the real antagonist of the story, or another worse evil pops up in their place; but that only works so many times in succession before it gets predictable & kind of boring. at a certain point it's difficult to suspend your disbelief bc we know the heroes will just get another wacky power up or deus ex machina & win anyway.

however, lego ninjago did one very important thing: at a certain point, they stopped making the antagonists more powerful/evil/etc. and instead made the stakes different. the prime example of this is the switch to master chen following the defeat of the overlord. we are told that the overlord is basically the root of all evil in ninjago, and all the major problems can be traced back to him (he created the great devourer, which bit garmadon & made him descend into villainy, etc). when you ask, "hey why haven't we heard of this guy before if he's been causing all the problems around here," they have an answer for that: the overlord has been trapped on an island far away from the mainland, without a body or anyone else to enact evil schemes on (it's later revealed that it isn't just any island: the first spinjitzu master literally split ninjago in two and separated the pieces to keep the overlord out. what a power move). of course none of the main characters have heard of this guy until garmadon washes up on the shore & gets roped into an evil scheme: none of them were alive when the continent was split.

following the defeat of the overlord and de-eviling of garmadon (with a short aside to destroy the overlord virus), the ninja are pretty chill. they've lost zane but aside from that things are looking up. then they get an invitation to participate in a tournament of elements, hosted by this master chen guy of the master chen's noodles restaurant chain. it's also held on a remote island in the middle of nowhere but it isn't that shady, right?? wrong. master chen is using the tournament to steal the ninja's powers & also yoinking them into his illegal underground noodle factory when they lose. also, he has zane in the illegal basement noodle factory for some reason. but the crucial piece here is that master chen is not more powerful than the overlord. he's not more evil than the overlord. for all intents and purposes, he's just some noodle company ceo who wants elemental powers so badly he's willing to do this whole song & dance to get them. the villain of this season isn't like. the overlord 2, electric boogaloo (this time with double the evil). the ninja aren't in mortal danger at the tournament, although if you get yoinked into the illegal noodle factory no one knows if you're still alive, but hey. the world isn't in imminent danger from master chen. however, this is also the first time that the ninja have been cut off from all of their allies: the four of them went to the tournament alone, so nya and sensei wu can't help them bc they don't even know where they are. once again: the stakes aren't just higher, they're different. and because these stakes are different than anything the ninja have faced before, it makes you wonder if they'll all be okay this time. like yes they survived the overlord, so a power-hungry noodle guy shouldn't kill them. but that little voice in the back of your mind goes, he just might.

[blue-mood-blue]

Maybe they were all just haunted by the footage of Hyperion.

It was exceedingly normal, and not. The people looked happy, and blank. The news stations still showed the outdated footage of mindless, sudden attacks, of reasonable voices calling out reasonable appeals to the better half of human nature, but what was worse was when they showed recent footage. It was a city alive and happy so abruptly that it set everyone on edge. There were still normal, flawed people in there, somewhere. Hiding.

Juno was still in there. Nureyev hadn’t seen him yet. He’d stopped looking, not sure he’d like what he’d see.

They took turns staying up in case Rita needed them. It was always just to talk, and Nureyev thought that was probably the most important thing they were actually doing about this whole mess, keeping one person sane while she tried to escape a nightmare on her own. He liked talking to Rita, mostly about elaborate plots and tidbits of her own history that her surroundings reminded her of.

But even Rita couldn’t stay lighthearted forever, especially at night. The honesty of what was happening around her came out in pieces. The details poked through her words like little shards of glass, unexpected and biting, and Nureyev learned to handle those stories gingerly if he didn’t want to get cut.

Rita was not careful about where she put that glass. To be fair to her, she had no idea that her words were anything but.

The comms next to him beeped, and Nureyev put down the remote - turned to some awful home-renovation show, he’ll never understand why someone living on an ocean-covered planet needed a home pool - in favor of answering the call. “Anybody out there,” was Rita’s immediate response. It was joke and, secretly, it was a plea.

“Good evening, Rita. How is Hyperion treating you tonight?”

“Can’t complain, Mistah Ransom, except that I can and I’m gonna.” The annoyed huff made him chuckle. “I know all these people are still actually people underneath all that brainwashing they’ve got going on, and that means I should play nice and stay out of their way, but I’d sure like to give a few of them a good kick in the shin, let me tell you. Acting like I ain’t got no right to be out in public in broad daylight, the nerve -”

And then silence. Several long seconds of silence, and Nureyev could swear he heard his own heartbeat pick up. “Rita? Are you still there?”

There was a heavy sigh from the other end of the line, a held breath released. “I’m here. Thought someone was lookin’ in from a window or something but it’s just a leftover campaign poster.” Nureyev was about to make some kind of quip about the inevitability of politicians even in the middle of a citywide apocalypse when he was startled by the sound of paper tearing. And then tearing again, and again, in a slow and methodical way that could, in his mind, only mean careful and dedicated and shredding.

“Rita -”

“It’s fine, Mistah Ransom. Just givin’ someone’s face what it deserves.”

“The politician?”

“Mayor O’Flaherty.” There was a scuffling sound, and Nureyev could picture Rita kicking at paper scraps on the ground. “You ever heard one of his speeches? All about how he wants to clean things up, everything everyone wanted hear. Well he’s gone and made a pretty good mess of it now, hasn’t he? And him only in office for a few days, too.”

“Sounds like he’s going to have plenty of explaining to do.” Nureyev recognized the name from the news; reporters were a constant at city hall, and when city hall was too dangerous to stand outside of they were a constant over the phone lines. The answer was always the same: the mayor was not available to answer any questions about what was happening. “His office has done an excellent job of keeping him hidden so far, but that can only last so long.”

“He’s dead. Those people giving out excuses to everyone who asks, they just don’t know a nice way of sayin’ it yet.”

For a moment, Nureyev was certain he must have misheard her. If she’d decided to start talking conspiracy theories, there was none of her usual shift in tone from conversational to dramatic reveal. He opened his mouth to reply, and came up with nothing.

He hadn’t misheard anything, evidenced when Rita barreled ahead. “You’ll have to forgive me for sayin’ so, Mistah Ransom, but it’s not really any great loss. That man wasn’t any good, not for Hyperion and not for my boss.”

And suddenly he had nothing else to say, for a much different reason.

“Don’t know if you ever met my boss, Mistah Ransom - I guess just because he had a number to someone on the same ship doesn’t mean he knows everyone on the ship - but he’d been having a real rough go of it for a while. Got back from being missing for weeks with one less eye and stumbling around like something had been torn outta him -”

Nureyev didn’t want to hear this.

“But he’s tryin’ real hard, I think. Wanted to do something good, thought helping this O’Flaherty was how to do it, even let that guy put another eye in his head, you know? And for what?” She sighed. “Just a big mess of broken promises and a city full of brainwashing tech. I’d rip a dozen posters if I had ‘em.”

“Sounds like the ‘something good’ didn’t work out.” It was barely a murmur, and Nureyev didn’t want to hear this.

“The boss took that eye right back out the minute he got a chance, if that tells you anything. Same tech.”

He knew Juno well enough to connect those thoughts into a predictable whole. Nureyev wanted to be exasperated, to be angry - Juno Steel and his damn hero complex. Juno Steel, expendable for a good enough cause. Anger wasn’t the word for what he felt, though, and if it was there it was aimed at Ramses O’Flaherty.

Good thing O’Flaherty was already dead.

“Save a poster for me,” he finally said, voice barely louder than it had been a moment ago; he hoped Rita wouldn’t notice. “That sounds cathartic.”

[loudest-subtext-in-tv]

Something I know no one will ever contend with when they just want to write a hit piece about us, but...

When Moffat said on the A Scandal in Belgravia commentary, “If you watch the show carefully, there’s subtext about John’s drinking,” what did he mean? He wasn’t being flippant, he’s said one of his favorite writers is William Goldman and writers should study him because he “knows everything.” Goldman’s Ten Commandments on Writing say to “put a subtext under every text” and not to be too on the nose. 

So what is the “real” subtext to why John drinks, and why does John drink when he’s alone with Sherlock and trying to get him to open up, or otherwise thinking about Sherlock? If the subtext is not about John’s relationship with Sherlock, then like... who else is in the room in those scenes, what’s going on, who is John actually thinking about, and why is it so important to the story that Moffat would include it? What storyline does the subtext of John’s drinking pertain to? It must be pretty big to not have been revealed yet, so it shouldn’t be hard to make a case for.

Similarly: When Moffat and Gatiss say that The Private Life of Sherlock Holmes, a movie noteworthy for depicting Holmes as a homosexual in love with Watson, is the inspiration for their adaptation, what do people imagine they adapted from it? Because it wasn’t the characterization, they don’t much resemble the BBC Sherlock characterizations. Barely any plot points were borrowed, and minor ones at that. Why did they pick the big overtly gay adaptation for the basis of their show from a hundred straight alternatives? Why did Gatiss say the thing he liked about it was that Holmes was in love with Watson?

I mean, I know people who hate us will never actually watch it, but the movie is not subtle. The movie isn’t a bunch of gay gags, the movie makes very clear that Holmes is genuinely homosexual and in love with Watson in a deeply painful way that queer people can recognize and relate to, and the same vibe is heavy in series 3 especially. For example, the endings of TSoT and HLV are not gay gags, they are things that happened in the plot and were not presented as remotely funny.

There are two reasonable perspectives on this:

1) It is not especially weird for people who pay attention to what the writers have said about their stories to think all the gay stuff is intentional, and its not weird to have fun chasing down things the writers have taken care to talk about. That’s what fans do, they try to predict where stories are going. No one made hit pieces ridiculing Jon and Daeneyrs shippers because they recognized what the foreshadowing in Game of Thrones was saying, and they were basing it off almost nothing compared to what the showrunners of Sherlock have said and taken care to include in the plot and subtext. People write hit pieces about us because they deeply believe it’s stupid for queer people to think a gay romance could be depicted, we had the misfortune of having a sense of humor about ourselves (calling it a “conspiracy” and ourselves a “cult”), and were enthusiastic about the show and writers whose fandom we’re a part of.

2) The gay stuff is intentional, but all a big joke despite appearances to the contrary. Most of the antis even argued that the gay stuff was intentional, they just thought it was to fuck with people or be provocative. Some of them were even dreading S4, including while it was airing, because they thought we were going to be proven right and we’d be insufferable. If people who hated us worried we could be right, then how delusional could we be?

I can understand someone thinking it all being a big joke is more likely than a TV show depicting a gay romance, but it does not follow that people deserve to be an object of public ridicule because they recognized a bunch of queer allusions and painful queer life experiences that resonated with them and considered that the writers, one of whom is queer and unabashedly obsessed with the works in question, may have positive motives for including those things. It feels like punishing people for doing their due diligence of actually researching the writers’ feelings about things and their influences, rather than just piling on and calling them homophobes. I’m not trying to invalidate anyone’s opinions if that’s how they feel about Moffat and Gatiss nowadays, I’m just saying it’s not some shameful thing for people to actually investigate these things and conclude differently. It’s okay to think writers are talented and clever, and their fandom should be a place where it’s okay to explore that.

What makes me most sad about this is that there is genuinely no area of life where people can just play around anymore without being hunted down. Like, politics is fucking miserable, the pandemic is miserable, I just had a friend kill himself a few months ago because of how bad life is lately, a close relative who I never thought would have suicidal ideation has it now, I have been fighting wanting to die for years, in the U.S. none of us have any idea if we’re ever getting any sort of pandemic stimulus again -- so many of us are suffering immensely right now, it should be okay to be goofy and creative in a fandom without someone deciding its their prerogative to profit off us because they think we’re weird, or whatever. 

The reason there’s a lot of crazy meta analysis is because this was supposed to be a relatively safe, creative place where people can try their hand at analyzing stories without being graded or made to feel inadequate, so we treat metas a lot like fanfics where it’s not really appropriate to just rip people’s shit apart no matter how illogical it is, and we find things we like about analysis we don’t agree with in that same spirit: it’s a cool idea anyway, it’s artistically inspiring, it got close to a more compelling idea, etc. I have a big packet of fan mails where several people told me they had been scared and self-conscious to share their thoughts on things, and TJLC helped them open up and inspired them to major in literary or film-related majors. People start somewhere and it’s cruel to make fun of them because they weren’t great at something that doesn’t fucking matter. 

FANDOM IS NOT SUPPOSED TO BE A SUPER SERIOUS SPACE. NO ONE PUTS ON A TUXEDO BEFORE THEY LOG IN TO TUMBLR. NO ONE NEEDS SOME OUTSIDER TAKING THE THINGS THEY OFFERED IN THE SPIRIT OF FUN OUT OF CONTEXT TO PRESENT TO A WIDER AUDIENCE THEY DELIBERATELY AVOID BECAUSE THAT AUDIENCE IS MEAN AND SENDS THEM DEATH THREATS AND HOMOPHOBIC AND MISOGYNISTIC SLURS AND SUICIDE ADVICE. IT IS ACTUALLY NOT AN ENORMOUS CHARACTER FAILING TO SHARE BAD ANALYSES OF A TV SHOW, AND SHOULD NOT BE A MATTER OF NATIONAL INTEREST. 

But places where people can open up and try things out increasingly can’t exist anymore, because even in a low stakes environment like a fandom there are busybody ghouls who want to profit off being condescending about how people spend their leisure time. It doesn’t add anything to the world except their bank accounts.

[talas-starlight]

Scarred Spirit - Zuko x fem!reader (pt.4)

SUMMARY: *queue beebo* ladies and gents this is the moment you’ve waited for  

WORD COUNT: 2.8k

WARNINGS: swearing, australian spelling (not a warning just letting you know)

OTHER PARTS IN THE SERIES:  pt1   /   pt2   /   pt3   /   pt4   /  pt5   /   pt6

MASTERLIST: Here!

As the Cherry Blossom trees were in full bloom, Iroh was basking in the peace he hadn’t felt in weeks. Zuko on the other hand, sat next to the entryway sulking. Of course, Iroh, being the caring uncle he was, wished to relieve him of all the angst within him on this beautiful day and approached him with a solemn expression on his face. “I see, it’s the anniversary isn’t it.”

Beneath his straw hat, Zuko scowled agitated his uncle brought it up, as if it wasn’t the first thing he thought about when he woke up this morning. “Three years ago today, I was banished. I lost it all. I want it back. I want the avatar. I want my honour. My throne. I want my father, not to think I’m worthless.”

“I’m sure he doesn’t! Why would he banish you if he didn’t care?”

Wordlessly Zuko rose and walked away from his uncle, frustrated and terrified of what else his uncle might say. Finding a cherry blossom tree far, far, away from Iroh, he sat down beneath it angrily. He hated this day. He hated what it did to his life. He hated how the memories of you consumed his mind more prominently today than any other day of the year.

He never said it out loud, but he wanted you just as much as he wanted his honour. He wanted to see you alive. Breathing right in front of him. And he’d be damned if he admitted it to his uncle. Why, he wanted you? He wasn’t sure. You have always lingered in the back of his mind, not constantly, but every once in a while, it always seemed to come back to you. Or at least what was left of you in his mind.

This annoyed him endlessly. How could someone, who he barely spoke a word to, stay in his mind for so long? He didn’t even know what you looked like! He let out a groan of frustration. He wished he could remember what your voice sounded like. Then, at least he would have something to hold onto. He tried desperately to cling onto the memory of you. The way your baby hair stuck out of your top knot, your posture as you shielded him the best you could, the feeling of your robes on his fingertips. But it was no use. There was no point in it all. None of it would lead him to you. For all he knew, you were probably dead.

That prospect terrifies him so much that he refuses to utter a word about you into existence.

After countless days of following the giant fire nation ship from a considerable distance behind, you were grateful when they finally docked. You were beyond starved, stupidly underestimating how long Azula would be at sea. It seems you got a little too cocky in your abilities over the years. Shaking your head, you put yourself into a more focused mindset, now more than ever, you couldn’t afford to be sloppy. Tying your small boat to a dock which situated behind some rocky mountains and far away from any view from where their ship was, you began your search for robes to blend in.

Swiftly moving about in the shadows to avoid any interaction with people off Azula’s boat, you manage to ascend the stairs leading up to an Earth Kingdom village. Upon seeing the first clothesline with clothes that look like you could fit into, you grab the pink robes. Grabbing some extra cloth, you make a makeshift mask to shield your face and neck, and wind small pieces around your hands completely. Finally, and most importantly, you double checked to ensure that all of your weapons were strapped securely underneath.

Satisfied with your disguise, you decide to head near the dock to check if Azula’s made any advancements in her plan to get her brother and uncle back. However, you faltered, hearing a small argument break out a few huts away. Initially, you dismiss it, although just as you were about to journey back down the mountain, you felt something… like a crack of lighting waiting to go off.

Azula.

You follow the sounds of the argument and Azula’s inner fire. Hiding within a bush near an open window; you listen in on whatever was going on inside.

“What are you doing here?!”

“In my country, we exchange a pleasant hello before asking questions. Have you become uncivilised so soon, Zuzu?”

“Don’t call me that!”

Eyes widening at the realisation, wait… that’s Zuko?

“To what do we owe this honour?” You quickly assume that’s their uncle.

“Hmm, must be a family trait. Both of you so quick to get to the point.” Azula’s voice is harsh, almost as if she’s ready to strike.

Must she be so dramatic?

“I’ve come with a message from home. Fathers changed his mind, family is suddenly very important to him. He’s heard rumours of plans to overthrow him—treacherous plots. Family are the only ones you can really trust. Father regrets your banishment; he wants you home.”

At Zuko’s lack of response, you grew worried. No Zuko don’t-

“Did you hear me?! You should be happy. Excited. Grateful! I just gave you great news.”

You felt Zuko come closer to the window. He felt more muted… less angry.

“I’m sure your brother simply needs a moment…”

Azula snapped at Iroh. “Don’t interrupt uncle! I still haven’t heard my thank you. I’m not a messenger. I didn’t have to come all this way.”

“Father regrets? He… wants me back?”

Fuck! Don’t listen to her you coal brain!

“I can see you need time to take this in. I’ll come to call on you tomorrow. Good evening.”

As Azula left back to the ship, you cursed under your breath. Yes, you knew your job. And yes, you knew what would happen to Zuko and Iroh if they foolishly believed the princess. You needed a plan.

Maybe if I could just… steer him in another direction, help bring light to the situation. Maybe they’ll listen. Quietly retreating away from the hut, you walked into the town, looking for a way to talk to them without being obvious.

A few hours later, the best you could come up with was to deliver them some food for the evening, pretending you worked for the owner of all the huts. It wasn’t your best plan, but most people openly welcome free food, so it was good enough. But for the first time in your life, you felt nerves, unlike any other. Sure, you were nervous when you jumped to save Zuko, but this was different. Then, your nerves activated your fight responses, but today? These were the kind of nerves that made you want to run away because you’ve already gone over the multitude of possibilities that might occur. But of course, you dismissed the thoughts of running away, because once again, you were on a mission to save his life despite the threats Ozai made you.

Did he forget about me as I told him to, all those years ago? Hopefully, he did. After all, he is alive.

Just as you were about to enter, you heard his voice inside. “We’re going home! After three long years. It’s unbelievable!” Your eyes widened at the excitement in his tone. That wasn’t a good sign considering what you were about to do.

“It is unbelievable. I have never known my brother to regret anything.”

“Did you listen to Azula? Fathers realised how important family is to him. He cares about me!” Now you began to seriously contemplate on walking in there right now, and beating him until he came to his senses.

It seemed Iroh wasn’t having it either. “I care about you! And if Ozai wants you back well, I think it may not be for the reasons you imagine.”

“You don’t know how my father feels about me. You don’t know anything!”

“Zuko, I only meant that in our family things are not always what they seem.”

“I think you’re exactly what you seem. A lazy, mistrustful, shallow old man who’s always been jealous of his brother!”

Okay, I’ve heard enough coal brain.

You let out a deep, shaky breath. It seems no matter how hard you try to keep your cool, you’ll never be entirely ready for what you’re about to throw yourself into. Balancing the tray of food in your left arm, you round the corner to the front of the hut, emitting a firm knock onto the side of the entryway.

Zuko whips around at the sound. “Who are you? What do you want!”

As he looks at you with his harsh and angry glare, you feel like you’ve been smacked in the face multiple times. Ironically, you also knew it had been precisely three years since you jumped to save him, and now you finally get to witness the full extent of your failure. Heart tightening at the severe contrast to how he sounded all those years ago, you take in his pain. His anger.

Feeling the intense fire burning inside of him from his anger and rage, it almost takes you back. It seems that the years he spent away from his old home has damaged the afraid, innocent boy you once knew. As you wear your stolen robes and mask shielding your neck, a nasty feeling forms in your gut. You have always been able to cover your extensive scars with clothing, but him? His scar is almost too much of a visual representation for you to bear.

I should have moved to the left a bit more; then he wouldn’t have it. If I just aimed better when I jumped, he wouldn’t have to live like this. Maybe if I succeeded, he wouldn’t be so bitter.

Not letting how frustrated you feel towards yourself show, you bow to him and his uncle.

“My apologies, I did not mean to disturb you this evening. I am only here to deliver you some food, it’s on the house.”

This only fuels his anger, irritated that you weren’t anyone of great significance. “Fine. Just place it over there and leave us!”

Iroh sighs, walking towards you. “Zuko, that is no way to treat a young lady. My apologies for my nephew’s behaviour Miss, he has recently received some unexpected news today. Thank you for your services.”

You give a light smile, even though he can’t see it. “No, it’s alright. I understand how hard it may be to truly know what is the right choice when brought with unexpected circumstances.”

“I’m sorry who are you? Who do you think you are?! You know nothing, not even anything remotely similar to the situation I’m in. So don’t go around assuming you understand anything! You have no right coming in here and thinking you can help me in any way.”

His hostility begins to feel normal; you knew you should have expected him to be like this. “Of course my apologies sir, how could I be so senseless. I don’t mean to overstep. I only wish you relieve you of some of your stress. I meant no disrespect.”

At that moment, you almost slapped yourself. Idiot, why did I say that?

Zuko faltered, overwhelmed with the words you just slapped him with. And you said them on today of all days?

“What did you just say?”

Iroh who was intently watching you throughout the interaction snapped his attention towards his nephew, “Zuko, please, she only-“

“I’m sorry I meant no disrespect sir I-“

“Get out.”

Understanding that he wasn’t ready to take any guidance or advice from you, you silently bowed, turning to leave.

Just as you were about to walk out completely, you glanced back at him looking him in his golden, raged filled eyes, “pain doesn’t leave you forever Prince Zuko. It lingers. You should take the past and let it guide your future journey, not let it control you.”

As you stepped out into the unforgiving cold air, Zuko was frozen, gaping at the doorway where you once stood. How you knew of his true identity was beyond him, yet there was something hidden, masked beneath your final statement that didn’t sit right with him. The hair on his skin is standing at the entire interaction that just occurred. Of course, he had no idea who you were, so why did it feel like you knew more than you let on? Did you know anything about his past? Shaking it off, he continued to pack in silence. Even Iroh didn’t say a word.

Descending the mountain back towards your ship, words that you had memorised and locked away for years, suddenly resurfaced.

Maybe Azula was right after all.

Early the next morning, you rose with the sun. Soon after eating some breakfast made out of the fish you hunted last night, you decided to make your way near the massive ship. As per Ozai’s orders, you hid behind some greenery into a position that left you unseen to everyone.

Eventually, they showed up to the docks, and honestly, you were upset that Iroh was unable to get through to his nephew. But there was nothing you could do about it right now.

Due to the distance, you weren’t able to make out what they were saying, leaving you to have to read Azula’s lips, as she was the only one you could clearly see. Yet that didn’t seem to matter because soon enough, a fight broke out.

That’s not looking too good.

Knowing better than to expose yourself right away, you waited. Telling yourself that if they needed help, then and only then, would you help them.

After a few minutes, you watched lighting make impact with one of the rocky cliffs, sending rocks all around. With Zuko and Iroh running off the ship to escape, you knew it was time to run after them. Help them find a way to get away from Azula for good. Although, as you stood, you suddenly felt lightheaded and your vision got blurry, sending you straight to the ground.

What the heck?

Struggling to gain any body strength, you tried to get up again, but it was useless. The hair across your body stood up, but you weren’t cold, you were sweating. Looking down, you saw that your hands were alit in fire.

W-what?! What’s happening to me! Stop it y/n. Stop. Turn it off.

Panicking you tried to shake it away, but nothing was working, and your breath began to quicken.

What’s happening?! No. Stop. No!

Suddenly, you lost all sight of what was in front of you, and a blinding white light encompassed your mind. You closed your eyes, but it didn’t go away. When you reopened your eyes, you were faced with scenery you had never seen before. In the distance, high above you, there was an older man in what appeared to be old Fire Nation robes, and a young boy dressed as an Air Nomad on a dragon.

Is that the Avatar?

Due to the distance, you couldn’t make out what they were saying, and they seemed so engrossed in their conversation, they didn’t see you. This prompted you to do the only logical thing anyone could do; you screamed.

“HEYYY! DOWN HERE!! I COULD USE A LITTLE HELPPPPP!!!”

Instead of hearing you, your surroundings began to change. First, there was a lady dressed in Kyoshi attire. Then suddenly, you were in the middle of the ocean with a man from the Water Tribe about to send a massive wave towards you.

Holy shit.

Before you could react, your surroundings changed once again, and you were in the middle of a field with a female Airbender, soon switching to a Firebender erupting volcanoes around him.

Okay, what in Spirits name is happening to me.

You tried to scream again, but it was no use. It was like an awful dream, unable to move and watching events happen before you. No matter how much you screamed or flailed your arms around, neither person on the dragon seemed to be able to notice you. Letting out a final scream of desperation, you were ready to give up.

Where the hell am I? Is this a dream? Am I trapped here? WHAT EVEN IS HERE?!

Nothing made any sense anymore; you were almost ready to admit defeat. But then you saw it. It happened so fast, and you nearly missed it. Yet as your body became frigid in shock, you knew it happened.

The dragon looked at you.

Is… is that dragon fucking smirking?! Ohmyspirits it’s going to eat me. Who would have known, death by spirit dragon.

Enough with your blabbering y/n. I apologise, but it’s not time yet. You were taken aback, shocked that you received a response from the dragon.

How did you get in my head?! And time? Time for what! For you to eat me?!

Completely disregarding your concerns, the dragon’s eyes turned to stare back at you. Almost as if it were peering into your soul. The people upon him didn’t even notice the dragon’s current focus. Look at what they’ve done to you… if only they knew. We will meet again y/n, when it’s time.

The white light re-entered your mind, blinding you once again. Only this time, you were met with darkness.

A/N: Thank you for reading!! What did you think of the lil reunion??

GAHAHAHA we lowkey on some kdrama energy out here but anywaysss! please don’t be shy,, let me know what you think or send a message! i feel like this series is going downhill a lot faster than i expected :// idk anyway! even if its not related to my fics,, homie gets a lil lonely so id love to chat 😊

TAGLIST:

@slythergirlimagines​​ @mangoberry43​​ @eridanuswave​​ @whiskeywinter89​​​ @kaylove12​​ @simplyfandomish​​ @khaleesi-of-assassins​ @callums-keith​ @ilovespideyyy​ @calciumcow​ @blackhood5sos​ @nnon-it-up​ @lozzybowe​

[shelby-love]

MATT CASEY

Beginning of a family.

Requested: yes

Prompts: none

Warnings: Angst (labour Kind of angst), of course a happy ending

Authors noter: I decided to do normal labor with a tiny wimsy complication because I tried so hard to have a good plot for difficult labour but it was waay too hard to make it so I dedicated to just do it like this. Hope it's okay! I LOVE IT!? Maybe it's because we all know how much Matt wants to start a family + If any of you have a better fitting Casey gif my messages are open for you to send to me! This gif isn't all that great.

~

You support your back and pace around the living room. At 9 months pregnant the only position that makes you feel somewhat comfortable is actually standing... Or better said - walking. Having just recovered from a hormonal breakdown because of your lack of fitting clothes, you found walking to be the way to get rid of some steam that was built inside of you like a 16th century fortress.

"Two weeks Y/N. Two more weeks to go," Days when Matt is working are definitely the worst. You're all alone at home with no one to cuddle with. I ran out of cake mix too. Your thoughts were occupied by cravings and everything above. This baby wore you out!

Your lower back ached as you supported yourself with your arms. Small pufs of air and a few curses escaped your mouth here and there.

No matter what you went through you still cherished every moment of the pregnancy, always thinking of the end. The end in which everything is finally going to be worth it. You would look at your belly every morning since you found out you were going to be a mom. No cramps could ruin that joy for you.

The journey was amazing for Matt too, he wanted nothing more than start a family with you. He loved caressing your stomach, gasping slightly every time your baby kicked and moved. It was his favourite sight to see.

Every time he left to go to work, he always said goodbye to you, kissing you softly on the lips, and also on your belly. He wanted the baby to hear his voice and that's the reason why he sometimes talked to your belly more than to you. 

He never missed any of your regular checkups either.

Those checkups that meant the world to you couldn't prepare you for the labour that you were going to go through.

***

A week later, you're in a hospital bed, in the most pain you ever felt and thought possible.

"Okay Y/N I need you to push!" Your doctor instructs you. He was there since the beginning and his familiar face eased your wish for kicking him in the face for yelling at you.

"I can't do it, Matt, please. I can't do it." Sweat trickles down your forehead.

"Yes you can baby. Y/N you can do it." It was a relief to see Matt with you. The baby decided to come just when he was supposed to finish with his shift.

The waiting room is filled with firefighters but the one you need it right next to you.

"I'm a tough-ass woman." You tell yourself. Both Matt and your doctor nod excessively at your words of encouragement.

You grab his hand and squeeze. Hard. You don't fail to catch his facial expression. Matt finches at the strength of your grip.

"Matt do you want to switch places?" Sudden wave of anger overcomes your senses. "So you can see what it's like to do this!"

"Here honey hold my hand."

"Okay, maybe not so hard, baby."

You shoot him an angry look. "You said to take it, so I did - now deal with it!"

"You're right. I'm right here with you. Break my hand if you need to." As another contraction hits you, both you and Matt yell out in pain.

Matt being in pain kind of makes you feel better about your situation so you squeeze his hand even harder. Once the contraction is over you let go of his hand and take deep breaths.

"Do you need me to take a look at your hand?" Your doctor proposes. Matt flexes his fingers to see if they still work.

The half an hour that comes after that is blurry.

"Okay the baby is not moving as fast as I would like. Y/N I'm going to need you to push really hard for me. It's either that or a C-section."

At the mention of the latter Matt speaks up. "Cut her open? I don't know. Y/N what do you want to do?"

Your brain swarms with questions. "Would the baby be in danger if I keep pushing."

"You are okay to push Y/N but it's not a decision you can take much time making. You need to decide."

"That's good to know. I have to decide now?" You start to panic, imagining the worst of scenarios, but Matt is there stroking your forehead and holding your hand in his almost broken one.

"What if I make the wrong choice?" You sniff.

"Right now there is no wrong choice. If you decide right now. You are going to have this baby at the end of this. One way or another."

You look at Matt and suddenly it's clear what he wants to tell you. The decision is yours to make.

"I will do it naturally. But with the epidural." You lay back and take deep breaths as your doctor calls for an anesthesiologist. After some time the pain doesn't remotely stop. "This hurts real bad guys!"

Your announcement of pain startles Matt and "How long does it take to get some pain medicine around here?" In that moment, after those words came out, you never loved him more.

5 minutes later another doctor comes in the room and stabbed you with a giant needle in a matter that looked quite merciless to you. The reason you didn't give him a piece of your mind was simple - the pain you felt fell drastically and you sighed in relief.

You rest for a while before you have to start pushing. You do as you're told and before you know it you eventually open your eyes to the most precious sight - your baby.

You look at Matt who has tears in his eyes as he drinks in the sight. Your love for him was bigger than ever before. Tears flow down your rosy cheeks as you fight for words. "I... How did that big of a thing come out of me? I mean, look at the size of him/her!"

Matt laughs before coming down to kiss your temple. "Y/N do you want to hold your baby before the nurses take him/her?"

You know how much first skin to skin contact is important. You nod your head. With shaky hands and Matt's help you slip your hospital gown off your shoulders as your doctor hands you your squirming baby and lays him/her on your bare chest.

Tears gather in the corners of your mouth, "Oh my God, you're here."

You look up to see tears streaming down your husband's face. You hold and talk to your baby for a few moments before one of the nurses takes him/her. The nurse carries your son/daughter to get cleaned up and then you slip your gown back on. "You were amazing Y/N. I'm so proud of you."

"How are you feeling?"

"You know Matt... I'm feeling like a torn up piece of paper. Literally."

"Yeah," he laughs. "That looked rough."

A little while later, both you and your baby are taken care of. You're cleaned up and wrapped in a safety bubble that is your family. Matt and you take your time drinking in the sight of your newborn baby.

"We made that." You retort as you play with his/her small fingers. "Shhh. It's okay little one. Mommy and daddy are here."

You rock your baby gently to calm him/her. "I know you haven't gotten to hold our baby for long but I'm just dying to cuddle with him/her."

A soft laugh escapes your lips as you carefully hand him your baby. Matt bends down as you lift the baby up to him. "Just support his/her head. There you go. You're a natural honey."

Your heart melts at the sight in front of you. After wanting to have a family for so long, Matt finally has a baby of his own. A baby with you. You watch as he stares down at your son/daughter, and your heart bursts. You've never loved him more.

You run your fingers over your babies head and cheeks while Matt talks to him/her.

Soon you're lulled out of your world by a knock on the door. A very familiar set of firefighters poke their way inside your room.

"Can we meet him/her?" Both Matt and you can't refuse their puppy eyes as you carefully introduce them all to your baby.

That's how the rest of your day is spent. In the comfort of your family, extended and first.

MASTERLIST

[magioftheseas]

Boom Through Jabberwock!! Bang Bang!

Summary: An alternate/bonus scene spanning from Matsuda giving Ibuki a certain CD in Chapter 24 of Super Danganronpa 2: Matsuda Yasuke’s Battle of Despair and Wits.

Rating: PG

Warnings: None really.

Notes: It’s the yukata bonus scene but for SDR2 Protag Matsuda Yasuke. There’s a bunch more song references and extra banner. The yukata scene’s probably my favorite of the bonus events in sdr2, so it ended up being the longest. Hopefully that’s okay. It’s also much gayer. Because pride.

Read this fic among others HERE

Main story is HERE

Commission? Donate?

“If dealing with her is your way of dealing with guilt over Koizumi, then—I don’t think you could continue bothering.”

Mioda blinked again. Her mouth hung open, jaw slack before it began to tremble.

“Y-Yasuke-chan, that’s—way harsh! You’re making it sound like I don’t care about Hiyoko-chan at all!”

“It’s suffocating to have someone dote on you because they feel sorry for you,” he said. “It’s even worse when that person is floundering because then you feel bad for them.”

“Wah!”

“The fact that you approached me screams that you’re pulling your hair out over what to do about her.” Matsuda sighed, rubbing his nape. “That’s not remotely helpful. Gather your bearings first. Maybe...”

It’s not that I’m obligated to help, but it would be to my benefit that she and Saionji get along.

“When you kick the gachapon enough times, you can get prizes,” he finds himself saying, digging around in his coat to pull something out. “I happened to get this.”

This being the debut single of the band, The Black Cherries. Summer Festivitrees.

He tossed it to Mioda, but it just smacked against her chest as she gaped and he hurriedly had to catch it before it fell to the ground and broke before even having a chance to play.

“Um,” Mioda uttered as Matsuda handed it to her a second time. She didn’t take the CD. “W... Wow, Yasuke-chan.”

“No good, huh,” he guessed, waving it in front of her. Somehow, that did not make the CD more enticing. “Guess this kind of thing isn’t your jam.”

“I was just thinking that you’re fearless,” she said. “I mean—coulda guessed that from you and Nagito-chan being a thing... But seriously, that you’d have the brass to show me this...”

Matsuda’s frown deepened. His brow furrowed for good measure. However, when he pondered about what the fuck this girl’s problem could be, he could scrounge up a few ideas.

“Rival band?” he guessed, looking at the back of the CD. All it listed, of course, was the songs and artists and some copyright. “Or was there some stupid band drama?”

“Rivals!” Mioda confirmed with a chirp. “Did you not hear about all the hype of boys versus girls?! The battle of the boy bands and the girl bands?! The epic showdown of chicks and di—!”

“...isn’t battle of the sexes so last decade?” Matsuda asked, raising an eyebrow. “Hell, wasn’t it more thing two decades ago? Talk about outdated.”

“It super is,” Mioda agreed. “But that was just the press for ya. Out of time, out of tune, out of touch! My old band’s ticket sales and concert attendance numbers still got compared with the Cherries’ all the time.” She perked right up. “But out with the old, in with the new! It doesn’t matter to me because it’s old news about my old band!!”

“I see...”

“Music shouldn’t be about sales anyway!” she exclaimed. “Down with capitalism! Eat the rich!” A pause. She groaned, pained. “Oogh, Byakuya-chan would have been so yummy and chewy... I miss him so much...”

What the hell am I supposed to say to that?

“The meeting’s about to start,” he reminded her. “And...about Saionji...”

“This lightbulb has now been lit!” Mioda went right back to shouting, undeterred even as Matsuda grimaced. She just looked at him with bright, sparkling eyes. “Yasuke-chan, can I have you for the night?”

“...” His grimace darkened. “...”

“If you’re that busy with Nagito-chan, I gueeeeeeess he can come too,” she says, huffing before outright whining. “But you gotta give me an answer! Even if it’s not the story that I planned, I gotta hear your answer! I wanna know the answer!”

Matsuda squeezed his eyes shut, sighing as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

I really don’t want to, but...

“I guess I might as well go,” he grumbled.

“You should!” Mioda agreed happily. “GOOD answer! There wouldn’t have been much point in this bonus scene if you said no, Yasuke-chan!”

Matsuda stared.

“Ooh, so sharp! So cool! Cutting like the highest note!” she gushed. “Alright! The meeting time is two hours before the evening announcement! At the supermarket! No carts needed!”

Matsuda turned on his heel to hurry on ahead.

“Alright, then, guess that’s that.”

When she shouted some more, he didn’t look back. Only quickened his step.

--

After all the plot-relevant stuff of which the reader shouldn’t be concerned with right now, Matsuda did end up remembering the plans he made.

“Oh, right. It’s probably getting about whatever time that rocker girl wanted to meet up.”

“Oh, Matsuda-kun!” Komaeda exclaimed. “If you had already made arrangements with our Mioda-san, shouldn’t you have respected that first and foremost?”

“I had more important things going on,” Matsuda muttered. “Stuff more...relevant.”

“Geez, you’re such an asshole,” Hinata griped because he was here too for reasons. “Just hurry on. You shouldn’t keep Mioda waiting.”

“Eh.” He really shouldn’t. That said—“She said Komaeda can come, so I guess you should come, too.”

“H-Huh?! Why?!”

“Just...a feeling I have. Come on, you two.” Matsuda gestured for them to follow. “We’re heading to the supermarket.”

“Uwah, how exciting! Mioda-san’s kindness knows no bounds!” Komaeda gushed to which Hinata could only grumble.

“I feel like I’m just going to get pulled into extra work...”

Good news.

--

“O-nya-su-mi! O-nya-su-mi!” Mioda waved them over frantically from behind one of the aisles. “Ready for something to happen?!”

She gasped, gripping one of the cereal boxes with glee when she saw that Matsuda hadn’t arrived either alone or with just the resident crazy on the islands.

“Ooh, you brought Hajime-chan, too! I guess you do know the saying! Three’s a crowd, four’s a party!”

“Hey, Mioda,” Hinata greeted half-heartedly as she put the cereal back. Hinata strode up to her only to pause. What laid scattered before him was undeniable and he could only sigh at his fate. “Okay... What’s all this?”

When Matsuda got close enough for a look, he could see the piles upon piles of cardboard boxes. Komaeda, too, blinked at the sheer volume.

“Kaboom! Through summer!” Mioda exclaimed with a thunderous clap. “You can’t have a summer without fireworks!”

“I’ve had many of those,” Matsuda informed her without missing a beat.

“Loud noises make me a bit nervous,” Komaeda admitted before exclaiming, “How exciting!”

“Oh, right,” Hinata remembered. “Komaeda, on your student profile, it lists your dislikes as...”

“D-Don’t worry about it, Hinata-kun! It’s for the sake of hope!” Komaeda did in fact seem more nervous than excited. “Hope can come in loud, colorful bursts!”

“Eh...?”

“Filthy fireworks disappear into the sky!” Mioda sing-songs. “From Summer Festivitrees! Haven’t you heard it?”

“I don’t really listen to music that doesn’t play in anime,” Matsuda replied.

“Bang! Bang! There go my dreams!” Mioda gasped, but she recovered quickly. “Anyway!” With a salesperson grin, she gave a wide sweeping gesture towards the boxes. She even wiggled her hand while she was at it. “Boys, get those boxes! Let’s go! Set up!”

“Hah,” Matsuda huffed. “You could have gotten literally anyone to do grunt work.”

“Between the four of us, it won’t be too bad,” Hinata points out. “I mean...”

“Yeah, it’s a party!” Mioda agreed. “A super spicy party! Well—it’s a real party since I’ve already invited a few others! Chiaki-chan, Akane-chan, Mikan-chan, Sonia-chan—and did you know?! Hiyoko-chan’s gonna take pictures!”

...that’s good.

“Oh, and Nekomaru-chan juuuuust for Yasuke-chan!” she added, giving him a wink. “Everyone else already brought these fireworks in, so we’ll leave the rest to you! It’s Ibuki yukata time!”

“I suppose everyone else will be wearing yukatas as well?” Komaeda asked, to which she gleefully nodded.

“Yep! Sonia-chan’s gonna wear what she calls a Japanese yukata! So will Nekomaru-chan! Just for Yasuke-chan!”

“Great,” Matsuda griped, unenthusiastic. “What about us?”

“You want to wear yukatas too?!” Mioda yelped. “Unexpected! Aren’t the protagonists supposed to be the normies?! Or—wait! You want to see Nagito-chan in a yukata too, don’t you?! Sly dog! I should’ve known with my Ibuki sense!”

“W-What’s that mean?!” Hinata stammered. “I-I mean... Komaeda...!”

Komaeda blinked twice. His head tilted.

“I guess you’ll change into a yukata, too,” Matsuda told him. “I’ll look for some earplugs. Hinata will handle the boxes.”

“Wait why did I suddenly get saddled with all the work?! If Nidai’s here, he should help, too!”

“Nekomaru-chan helped during the day, Hajime-chan!” Mioda tutted. “Now, it’s your turn! Yasuke-chan has already asserted his dominance as top antenna!”

“What does that even mean?!” Hinata cried.

“Good luck, Hinata-kun!” Komaeda exclaimed. “Work your hardest so that your hope can shine your brightest! Oh, but, Matsuda-kun, please don’t feel obligated to...”

Aaaand Matsuda was already making his way down the aisle. No longer listening. A man single-focused on his mission. Mioda saluted him before marching on her merry way. Komaeda, too, left to go obediently change. Hinata, left alone, could only sigh.

Resigned to his fate, he began to move the boxes with only a mild grumble.

(Thankfully, once he found some earplugs, Matsuda did go back to help. He wasn’t that heartless.)

--

Thus, the night ended with a climactic series of colorful explosions in the starlit sky. Nidai whooped, Mioda cheered, and Sonia chattered excitedly.

Another burst. Nidai whooped again. Tsumiki was stammering in delight. Owari was happy, too.

The only one who wasn’t was...

“Pffft, so fucking lame,” Saionji muttered, but she snapped away with her camera. “It’s just because Mahiru-nee would’ve taken these pics...”

“The Ultimates are more radiant than any blossoming firework!” Komaeda exclaimed, voice uncomfortably loud as he likely couldn’t hear himself with the earplugs. “How wonderful! Sublime! Vibrant!”

Matsuda gave him a thumbs-up before gritting his teeth and adjusting the other’s yukata lest it be too revealing for this rather chilly evening.

Nidai whooped again, much to Nanami’s apparent confusion.

“Nidai-kun...keeps doing that...”

“It’s because when fireworks go up, you...whoop,” Hinata explained. He was looking away quite pointedly from a giggling Komaeda, his ears almost as red as a firework that just dyed the sky. Another whoop from Nidai as Nanami let out a curious hum.

“Girl power!” Sonia exclaimed.

“G-Go...burst...” Tsumiki stammered.

“Oh god, you two are so laaaaame,” Saionji groaned, to Tsumiki’s despair.

“E-Eep! I’m so sorry!”

“Oh! That’s a better face!” Saionji snapped with more enthusiasm. “Bwahaha! Pathetic weeping suits you waaaay more!”

“...Hiyoko-chan’s having a great time!” Mioda shouted. “Wahoo! Ibuki’s decisive victory!”

“W-What the hell are you talking about?!” the dancer shrieked.

“Lit ‘em up, Hajime-chan!” Mioda yelled, whooping with Nidai. “Do it, just DO IT!!”

“Got it, got it,” Hinata sighed, doing as he was told.

“After that one, we’ll trade off!” Nidai laughed. “You gotta enjoy these fireworks TOO, ya know!!”

Hinata did smile back, even warmer under another burst of color above.

“So lovely,” Komaeda cooed, and Matsuda didn’t care to ask if he specifically meant the fireworks.

Regarding everyone’s bright faces, made brighter by the fireworks, nothing else...really mattered.

The scent of summer enveloping the night. Goldfish fireworks trickling down, falling in drops,

Matsuda thought, remembering a song.

With eyes dazzled by the light, your gentle face was reflected for an instant.

When everyone parted, it was with a sense of satisfaction and accomplishment. One could even think it contentment if not for the erratic stumbling of a few stray thoughts.

[a-secret-bolton-vampire]

The Coming War for the North, Part 2: The Lost Wolves

In part 1, I talked about the coming battle of ice with Stannis fighting against the Boltons to take Winterfell. I discussed the situation there, the pink letter, and briefly speculated what the battle of ice will entail and who I thought would emerge victorious. If you read that, you know I argued Stannis would lose and the true battle for the North would be fought by Jon against Ramsay. In part 2, I'll dive into setting up the different factions left in the North (and beyond!) that I think will be integral to the northern storyline in TWOW.

A Trip to Skagos

Last we saw of Davos, he was not executed by Wyman Manderly, and Lord Manderly has sent him to retrieve Rickon from Skagos. Davos in TWOW is definitely going to be fun to read, as Skagos sounds like a very sinister place (or is it all that sinister?) and seeing Rickon again should be interesting. At the beginning of ADWD Davos was sent to parley with the Manderlys by Stannis, but the Manderlys imprisoned him, and per what we hear from in AFFC, executed him.

Of course, they didn't, and instead put him into the Wolf's Den, an ancient castle that is now used as a prison. Then Davos is freed and meets with Wyman in private, with Robett Glover in attendance, who say they are not with the Boltons, and were merely playing up the ruse so that Wyman's son Wylis would be returned safely without a hint of disloyalty towards the Lannisters. Instead, they are plotting revenge against the Red Wedding, and inform Davos that they found Wex Pyke, Theon's mute squire, who eventually revealed that Rickon has gone to Skagos. Wyman will support Stannis if Davos successfully brings Rickon back.

We don't know a lot about Skagos, and the little we do know paints it as a very sinister, savage place. They are rumoured to practice human sacrifice to the weirwoods and cannibalism in winter, and luring passing ships with false lights, more like tribes of raiders not too dissimilar to wildlings. They also rose in rebellion against the Starks during the reign of King Daeron II, which lasted years and claimed the lives of thousands, Lord Barthogan Stark among them, before it was finally put down. Also they ride unicorns, one horned shaggy goats.

I'm not sure what Skagos will ultimately be like, but I think it's probably going to be a weird mix of wildlings and northmen. There is also the question of their relationship with both. The northmen hate them and view them as savages, and they are built up as sinister people, but perhaps they only play it up in order to be left alone. Their historical connection to the North isn't very positive, so they might enjoy being isolated from the rest of the North, so long as they aren't disturbed.

That said, it is interesting that Osha chose Skagos to hide with Rickon. Anywhere in the North is dangerous for a loose wildling and a young Stark to be in... except Skagos, apparently. Do the Skagosi have good relations with the free folk? They seem to live more like the free folk and the island is further north than the rest of the North (bordering on the lands of the Night's Watch & even stretching beyond the Wall). Plus, Osha went there with Rickon to keep him safe, so the idea that the free folk and Skagosi have connections isn't too unikely.

The real question I am wondering is; how is Rickon doing? Last we saw him, he was only 4 years old, wild and untamed. I somewhat subscribe to the theory that the names of the direwolves hint at their future, and while there is a theory that Rickon is a shaggydog story (a long winded, complicated anecdote that goes nowhere), I think Shaggydog more or less foreshadows Rickon's wild nature. There is nobody training his warging abilities, and he was already wild to begin with, and now he's on a remote island in the middle of nowhere, so I only think he's going to grow more and more wild.

And, how are the Skagosi treating Rickon? Do they like him? They don't have good historical connections with the Starks, so they may not like Rickon when they first met him. Maybe they revere him since he is a warg? Or perhaps nobody truly knows who he is, but some kid with a giant wolf who knows lives on the island, and people give him offerings? Since we have little to nothing to go off, we have no idea what exactly Rickon has been up to since his exit from the pages in ACOK.

Regardless, Davos might find himself in a difficult position to convince Rickon to return. He's a complete stranger and nobody is going to trust his agenda, least of all Osha who was tasked with keeping Rickon safe. Given George has "important plans" for Rickon, I doubt Davos will fail to bring Rickon back, but it won't be easy, and probably will take some time.

From there, I see two possible places for Davos to go. While he would be tasked with returning Rickon to White Harbor, there is a possibility that the storms will force him to land in Eastwatch. Rickon could have a reunion with Jon Snow if that is the case, but I tend to favour Rickon being returned to White Harbor and used to rally Manderly and their allies against Ramsay. Wyman tells Davos all the value of having his House as an ally against the Boltons.

"I have been building warships for more than a year. Some you saw, but there are as many more hidden up the White Knife. Even with the losses I have suffered, I still command more heavy horse than any other lord north of the Neck. My walls are strong, and my vaults are full of silver. Oldcastle and Widow's Watch will take their lead from me. My bannermen include a dozen petty lords and a hundred landed knights. I can deliver King Stannis the allegiance of all the lands east of the White Knife, from Widow's Watch and Ramsgate to the Sheepshead Hills and the headwaters of the Broken Branch."

Stannis Baratheon

One thing to note is what Stannis will be doing. Say he, as I think happened, was defeated by the Boltons and faked his death. What is his next move? It's entirely possible that Stannis just retreats to the Nightfort, a location that he intends on sitting at one day, and in his desperation, burns Shireen to wake dragons out of stone (apparently people hate this take but it's a possibility in my mind). However, this isn't to say he is completely out of the game yet.

The Manderlys are open to allying with Stannis (should Davos be successful in retrieving Rickon), and they are part of the army sent in the battle of ice to do battle with Stannis. Could they possibly help fake Stannis's death in battle and have him retreat to a secret location? There is potential foreshadowing for this.

"White Harbor would give me a ready source of supply and a secure base to which I could retreat at need."

Could they have him retreat to the Wolf's Den, an ancient castle turned prison? There is a secret passageway connecting the Wolf's Den to the New Castle that Davos was shown.

While it might just be simpler for Stannis to retreat and die, this story is anything but simple, and I feel George is still having him around for a reason. He did send Justin Massey to Braavos to hire sellswords and sent them to him through Eastwatch (which is how I believe Arya will return to Westeros), so those might come in handy in the future. So while I believe the Starks will be the centre of defeating the Boltons and retaking Winterfell, Stannis could still have a role in this. One idea is that he actually takes the Dreadfort.

While the original idea posed by Arnolf was to merely siege it, and was supposed to undermine Stannis, interrogating Theon would be of some great use, as could the fleet of warships Lord Manderly has been building. Theon once escaped the Dreadfort through a postern gate that is either lightly or not guarded at all, with the help of Kyra, only for this to all be a game devised by Ramsay to hunt them back down. His knowledge of the Dreadfort could prove useful for Stannis to take it, while the Manderly fleet rows up the Weeping Water and lays siege to it.

A Blaze of Boltons

Now it's time to look at the Boltons. Say Roose is successful in holding Winterfell and defeating Stannis, and he gets rid of the Freys and Manderlys. What then? The northern houses are still only tentatively loyal to him, and he knows it. But the danger that poses to him is temporarily dealt with. The true danger was the fact that there was an option to join a new side against the Boltons, but once Stannis defeated, they are back to being all by themselves, knowing the Iron Throne is backing the Boltons and not risking their ire.

However, there is a distinct possibility that the Boltons will still lose support eventually, and by none other than their own hands, specifically Ramsay's. As a psychopath, Ramsay has an enormous ego, and is very concerned about his birthright, hoping he will one day be Warden of the North and Lord of the Dreadfort.

"My lord has a new wife to give him sons." "And won't my bastard love that? Lady Walda is a Frey, and she has a fertile feel to her. I have become oddly fond of my fat little wife. The two before her never made a sound in bed, but this one squeals and shudders. I find that quite endearing. If she pops out sons the way she pops in tarts, the Dreadfort will soon be overrun with Boltons. Ramsay will kill them all, of course. That's for the best. I will not live long enough to see new sons to manhood, and boy lords are the bane of any House. Walda will grieve to see them die, though."

Roose is aware of just how unhinged Ramsay is. He knows Ramsay will be upset if Walda gives birth to a boy, and knows Theon is reporting back to Ramsay. But Roose doesn't really seem to care all that much. Perhaps he would be amused if this did happen. Or perhaps he's just trying to comfort Ramsay to prevent this happening. Regardless, he also knows that Ramsay was responsible for his half-brother Domeric's death.

"Yes, m'lord. Domeric. I … I have heard his name …" "Ramsay killed him. A sickness of the bowels, Maester Uthor says, but I say poison. In the Vale, Domeric had enjoyed the company of Redfort's sons. He wanted a brother by his side, so he rode up the Weeping Water to seek my bastard out. I forbade it, but Domeric was a man grown and thought that he knew better than his father. Now his bones lie beneath the Dreadfort with the bones of his brothers, who died still in the cradle, and I am left with Ramsay. Tell me, my lord … if the kinslayer is accursed, what is a father to do when one son slays another?"

It seems clear that Ramsay's murder of his half-brother Domeric is foreshadowing, not just for the eventual death of Walda's child, but for Roose as well. Ramsay is very close to one day snapping and doing something so horrible that he cannot go back from. And to make it more clear, there is a line at the end of ADWD that I completely overlooked that shows Walda is actually pregnant.

Roose Bolton entered, pale-eyed and yawning, accompanied by his plump and pregnant wife, Fat Walda.

Later Ramsay and Roose are seen arguing, and Walda seems very frightened, but Theon doesn't hear what they say. It's possible they were arguing about Ramsay's inheritance given that Walda is now pregnant (although I think they were more likely arguing about what to do with Stannis). Regardless, I think that Walda giving birth to a boy would drive Ramsay over the edge. Despite him being impulsive and angry, he's still quite capable of covering up what he does. So I think, just as he did with Domeric, he will poison Roose, Walda, and his newborn half-brother, leaving him the only Bolton left and asserting his dominance over the North.

Of course, this is going to have serious consequences for Ramsay, something I will get into in part 3, where I will talk at length about the coming Bastardbowl.

[goneseriesanalysis]

Subversion of Tropes

Spoiler warning for Fear, Lies and Plague down below 

TW: mentions of s@xual @ssault and r@pe

In my recent post, Misogyny in Gone, I pointed out numerous instances in the series where misogynistic tropes are present, and how that affects the narrative of the story. The women often seem to be underdeveloped, sexualised and demonised for choices and characteristics that their male counterparts make and have with no consequence. Of course this is not true for every female character, and it is certainly not present all the time, but it still has a huge impact on the story. There is one scene in particular though, that seems to subvert these tropes and I wanted to talk about it as I think it is both a really important aspect of the story and introduces us to a fascinating power dynamic, that I really wish mg had developed further.

The interplay between sex and violence is a theme that is heavily prevalent in Plague and is present in both Lies and Fear. It shows up in many different forms throughout the series and presents itself in multiple ways such as: Caine and Diana’s relationship, Astrid and Orc’s Scene in Plague and Drake with pretty much every attractive woman he comes across. This is a theme that mg writes particularly well – Astrid and Orc’s scene in Plague (with a small cameo from Drake) is one of the best written examples of this trope I have ever read. However, for me personally, this scene is marginally outdone by another example of this trope that occurs in Fear – that being Caine’s cementing.

Not only does this scene have the cathartic tint of revenge to it, but it also subverts this trope in that it is the woman who is the perpetrator and the man (boy) who is the victim. When I first read Fear, nothing about this scene seemed even remotely sexual to me (because I was a child and unless it was outright stated I was never going to pick up on it.) But, when I re-read the scene a few days ago in preparation for my misogyny in gone post, I noticed how reminiscent Penny’s takedown of Caine is to the way women typically experience sexual violence (both in media and real life.)

So the scene starts out with Caine turning up to Penny’s house to discuss the situation with Cigar. Great. Fast forward a bit and we get to Penny outright telling Caine that she has a crush on him….and him outright rejecting her. Instead of accepting this, she pushes, telling him that she could be anyone in his imagination. He rejects her again. And she does not take that well. While she doesn’t show it on the outside, we as a reader get to see her internal monologue, where she has an extremely inappropriate reaction to his rejection. It is clear from this that she feels entitled to his affection, despite him never giving any indication that her feelings were reciprocated. Penny seems to believe that Caine has falsely led her on, but we as a reader know that he has rejected any and all advances that she has made and has not ever, in canon, used her crush to manipulate her. (Before I continue I want to make it clear that I am by no means saying that Caine is innocent. Penny has every right to be angry with him for a multitude of other reasons. But her reasoning here is misguided.) So the first question that this brings to mind is: Would Penny have continued with the cementing if Caine had welcomed her advances?? I think mg left this purposely ambiguous. But I like (and I use this word very loosely) the idea that she wouldn’t have. The trope of a woman having to cater to the desires of a man in order to avoid violence is one that is common in all types of media, and is one that we see throughout Gone as well. The best examples being Astrid with Sam and, of course, Diana with Caine. Both of these women are forced to conform to what Sam and Caine want them to be in order to be safe in the FAYZ, and so mg flipping the switch on this and having Caine’s inability to capitulate Penny’s desires being the final straw to his downfall (even if he was unaware of this fact) is an amazing touch.

This theme is then continued in the way that Penny takes Caine down…by drugging him and incapacitating him. Now, these are occurrences that are usually associated with date r@pe, which is something that is mostly experienced by women. Of course, this is not what actually happened in the book, but the association is there for a reason, I’m sure. Given Penny’s attraction to Caine, her take-down of him is inherently sexual in both its execution and come about. Her extreme reaction to his refusal is probably a result of her less-than-ideal childhood. We are told than Penny’s father used to take inappropriate pictures of her older, but still under-aged sister. When her sister became of age, Penny assumed that her father would move on to her, but instead he skipped her and began taking photos of her younger sister. Mg doesn’t really go into much detail on how this must have affected Penny’s psyche – only that she was so jealous that she took her father’s laptop into the school and showed the other students, resulting in his arrest. It is heavily implied that Penny’s parents were not affectionate – they neglected their children (at least emotionally) and so Penny sought out attention and affection, as any child would. Seeing how much time her father spent with her older sister, and seeing why – it isn’t hard to believe that Penny would equate sexualisation to affection, and even love. (lemme just have a cry real quick.) This makes sense when you take into account her reaction to Caine’s refusal (which was actually pretty mild) and even when you look at earlier events – such as him helping to bathe her. I can’t speak for everyone, but if someone broke MY legs and then came in to help bathe me, I would not be happy, and yet Penny seems to almost enjoy it. We then learn that Penny and her sisters were sent to live with their aunt after their mother became too depressed to care for them. And, once again, Penny found that her sisters were getting all the attention. So she reacted with violence – by putting bleach in her older sister’s cereal. She later found out that her father had committed suicide in prison, after being beaten by other inmates. And so Penny’s formative years have been tinted with sex and violence – two things that no child should be exposed to (although that’s kind of the whole premise of the series.) When you look at her past it becomes clear that her take-down of Caine was an attempt to gain control over one of the many people who have denied her affection in favour of giving it to someone else. As she associates sex with affection, and responds to a lack of affection with violence, it makes sense that she would attack him in a way that is associated with sexual violence.

My final point is in relation to the actions that she takes while Caine is unconscious. She does three things that really give us an insight into her mentality regarding the cementing:

-          She cements him

-          She makes a tin foil crown for him

-          She cuts off his shirt

These actions again are reminiscent, at least subtextually, of the act of r@pe - a sexual crime done with the intent to both incapacitate and embarrass the victim – in essence, a power-play. And this is exactly what Penny does. She begins by entrapping him in the cement, taking his power from him. We know that Penny was not scared of Caine’s power, this was not an act of paranoia as the cementing of the Coates kids was. But rather, she knew how much his power meant to him, how much he relied on it – and she wanted to make him feel just as powerless as he had made her feel. This is further reinforced by her making the tin foil crown. Of course, she partly did this to cause him more pain (she literally stapled it to his head), but the main reason was to embarrass him. To turn his own narcissism against him. And then, to top it all off, she cuts of his shirt – which is just straight up sexual assault. This is the moment in the scene where the interplay between sex and violence really comes out. As she sees it, sexualisation is a form of affection. But as her whole life she has been denied any form of affection she has twisted this in her mind to where she sees violence as a viable outlet of emotions – or rather a replacement for affection. I think Caine’s cementing showed the breaking point for Penny – there are so many things she wants to communicate (her anger at Caine for all the horrible things he has done to her, her affection towards him, her desire for power and respect) and she just doesn’t have the emotional intelligence to do it, due to years of witnessing sexual assault and experiencing neglect. So instead everything gets distilled down into this twisted act of violence where she both expresses all of these things and gets none of them.

I really love this scene as I think it is a great example of mg’s writing ability. I know her attack of Caine was not only due unrequited affections, but I think this side of it is really excellently written, and makes me wish that we has seen more of Penny. I think it would have been a very interesting plot twist and a great use of character if Penny had managed to discard of Drake in Fear and take over his role in the story. Anyway this was only meant to be a short post and I really rambled on (as if anyone is surprised by now). Thank you for reading and please feel free to comment on/ criticise this!! :)

[strangebrews]

@madam-metaphor​ asked: 69. Ventriloquist

So Eddie was still out of a job. Not an ideal state to be in, by any means, though he’d excused the situation on being busy with other, more pertinent things—diverting an alien invasion, for starters.

But it’d been 2 months since anything urgent had come up and here was Eddie during a Wednesday afternoon, on the couch with a microwave dinner in his lap. TV shows had gotten worse nowadays, he was thinking, no respect for plot anymore, just pure drama. 

His bills were piling up—the stack of envelopes was becoming painfully apparent on the island in the kitchen, giant red notices bleeding onto the paper—but it wasn’t like Eddie hadn’t tried. He had tried—at the grocery store, the pet shop, even the fucking video rental place—yet none of the leads had amounted to any promising offer. He was just unlucky, that was all, he thought and took another bite.

You’re very lucky, Eddie. I decided to live in your body. Venom regarded itself quite highly.

He was flipping through channels now, irritated with his lack of options, Venom’s head perched on his shoulder. A streaming subscription, that’s what he needed. Another bill added to the mound, but it was necessary, because, “I mean look at this shit,” he gestured towards the TV with his remote, mouth full, “You cannot expect me to want to watch this kind of crap.” It’d been some ventriloquist—third fucking episode in a row—and Eddie jammed his finger into the skip in frustration. 

Wait.

Venom pressed a tendril to the back button and slithered closer to the screen, head cocked in interest.

How did he get that little human onto his arm?

Eddie gave Vee a crooked smile. He would admit, providing Venom explanations of silly human behaviors was one of his favorite aspects of this cohabitation. “It’s not a tiny human. It’s a puppet—not alive. You stick your arm up the hole in its ass and make it do things.” He laughed, amused at his own explanation. 

Venom’s eyes glimmered. Don’t we do the same thing?

 The laughing stopped. “No, no we do not do the same thing—it’s different. It’s very fucking different. You’re supposed to make jokes, create a show, have people watch you.”

The glimmer intensified. Let’s do that.

“Do what? Become a career ventriloquist?” a slow nod was Eddie’s only answer.  

Venom’s proposal was unsurpring, actually. It had grown increasingly frustrated recently—angry that Eddie could walk the streets now without anyone suspecting anything out of the ordinary, providing no indication they knew Venom was living inside. But the issue was that Venom wanted to be seen—wanted everyone to know that Eddie was taken, that this was Venom’s Eddie. It didn’t want anyone looking at him. Considering him.

Venom had thrown a fit once or twice in public already, accidentally shoved someone out through the glass doors of a bus because they’d brushed up against Eddie a little too often. And that had been an accident—the person was fine aside from a few scratches on the nose—but Venom had been sternly warned that day to never try anything like it again. 

“I’ll rip you out of me, Vee. I promise I will.” Obviously it was an exaggeration, but the image it produced was painful enough for Venom to agree.

So this was its roundabout way of being present in public. They could star in a show together—much like the one on TV—and Venom would have an excuse to stay on the outside, make itself known. It was a perfect idea.

I would make a great puppet, Eddie.

Eddie just laughed and brushed the crumbs off the front of his shirt. He used to be an esteemed journalist. He was not going to become a fucking ventriloquist for the afternoon broadcast. It was stupid. It was ridiculous. It was not an option. It was—

+

They were standing in front of the bathroom mirror, Venom’s head bobbing out from Eddie’s right hand, while another piece wrapped around his arm before cutting off entirely before the elbow. 

A puppet. A gooey, terrifying, alien puppet.

Venom had succeeded in getting Eddie to try the idea out—there was no harm in just trying, it’d argued. And yes, fucking had been a factor in the convincing process, but there was no need to focus on silly details.

They’d been glued to the same spot for nearly an hour now, Eddie trying to mold Venom’s mass into something a bit less menacing. He’d tried giving it pointed ears, a nose, some makeshift hair strands that were supposed to cover a part of Venom’s eyes, but they resembled creepy noodles, if anything else. The attempts were useless, so with a sigh Eddie gave in and moved onto the next issue. “We’ll just be really funny, to distract from the unconventional look.” Unconventional was his way of describing it, because there was no reason to hurt Vee’s feelings. 

Mouth movements proved to be a problem too. “You have to move it based on the shape of the words I’m saying. What you’re doing is not convincing at all.” Venom was just opening and closing its maw haphazardly, disregarding any authenticity. 

I’m meant to be a puppet. They lack the same facial mechanics. 

“Yeah, but—” Eddie cut himself off, because there was a point to be made here, he just wasn’t sure what it was. He set that aside for later. 

The tongue—the tongue had to go.

“It’s just a bit unsettling, is all, when you flick it all the way out like that, you know? Some might find it suggestive, others might think it's insulting.” So Venom curled it back into its maw, with some difficulty, but it’d managed.

Then they encountered an issue with the flow of the conversation. Eddie should have expected Venom to hit a few bumps in the road when it came to witty comebacks, but it really killed the vibe when it kept answering with things like Eddie, do you really think I look like a nasty talking tar ball?

Eddie even tried feeding Venom dialogue through his thoughts, but on the fourth failed attempt he decided they were done. “We tried, we basically failed. I’ve got more important things to do.”

Staring into your empty fridge so you can ignore your real problems isn’t very important. Eddie did not entertain Venom with a response.

+

Yes, he should have been looking for a job still, but Eddie chose to write a script instead. 

They had stopped after that fourth try, but returned to the mirror an hour later. Eddie was going to get it right—he was going to squeeze at least one original, funny thing out of Venom. 

On the seventh try he decided the only way out of this was writing a script.

Recording the video, with his phone resting on the dresser and the script hiding beside it, was also, just a one-off thing. A quick hyperfixation, nothing more.

He worked on their conversation for 2 days, smoothed out all the kinks in their performance during the 10 rounds of practice recordings. Venom could now shape its mouth around the words, kept its tongue inside, and even spoke at a higher pitch to make it more convincing. The pair was ready.

+

Uploading the video to Youtube had also been Eddie’s idea. He had not given up on the project, and neither had he given up on being in denial towards the fact that he was absorbed by said project.

“It’s just—I refuse to have wasted 5 fucking hours on this and keep it private, you know?” It was a weak argument, and he suspected Venom would have raised its eyebrows in doubt if it had any, but it stayed silent. 

He’d done some minimal editing. Nothing too fancy—just an intro and an outro, simple things he’d learned during his journalism days. “It’s not gonna get any views.” he was talking to himself at this point, mouse hovering over the Publish.

“It wasn’t even that funny.” The video had successfully appeared on the recent uploads page—Eddie had checked to make sure, but he didn’t necessarily care. 

“I’ll probably delete it in a day or two, anyway, mind you.” Venom continued to hide away.

+

Venom was only ever quiet for two reasons: it was tired, or it had won a battle with Eddie and had nothing more to say. This case slotted under the latter category.

Because Eddie had not deleted the video after a day or two—it was still floating around on the Internet and Eddie’s finger was beginning to cramp up from refreshing. And refreshing. And refreshing.

The result wasn’t anything major. It was only 100,000 hits in 5 days and the title was pure bait—kinda hard to pass up a video called “Famous Ex-Journalist Stuffs Hand Up Puppet’s Bumhole, Calls It Coping” (That’s a misleading title, Venom had noted. “I know, just trust me.”)

“It’s not even that funny of a video.” Eddie said again on the 6th day, but there was a smile tugging at his lips—nearing 200,000 now. 

Cooksucker3000 said your puppet is fucking dope, Eddie. Venom hummed along Eddie’s arms in satisfaction. The comments were its favorite part, for quite obvious reasons, and Eddie was too preoccupied with his own shower of compliments to correct Venom’s reading mistakes.

this is so hilarious!! 

i love the idea! 

good to see ur doing well - i remember u from tv! 

u r really fucking hot xx

Delete that. It has nothing to do with the contents of the video. So not all of the comments were Venom’s favorite.

+

When they hit 300,000 Eddie said, “Fine—I’ll write one more script. But after that, we’re done.” Venom did not put up a fight this time either.

Because fine, Eddie could say whatever he wanted, but they shared a fucking body at the end of the day—as if Venom wouldn’t have noticed him finishing up the 4th script of a series last night.

[authoratmidnight]

🌻

so apparently people were complaining about Adam’s ‘bitches and bro and nonbinary hoes’ line in the sk8 dub b/c ‘it wasn’t there in the original’ and dubs changing things is bad and some were even comparing it to 4kids changing things????

and like, none of ya’ll have actually WATCHED a 4Kids dub have you?

none of ya’ll know what a butchered dub IS. and you sure as fuck didn’t grow up w/ them.

changing a single line that’s not plot nor character important is no where near the same as eviscerating a whole script, casting aside plot and character growth for haha funny lines, cutting out anything deemed ‘bad’ (so, anything even remotely queer, mentions of death, foreign stuff etc) and making a mockery of the source material.

this change is fine b/c 1) it’s in character and 2) it’s a short throwaway line that’s not relevant to anything (it’s literally a ‘ladies and gentlemen’ type greeting, just made Extra b/c Adam).

Also the Sk8 dub is fucking hilarious and great and I love it.

[dearophelia]

For the fic ask, would it be terrible if I asked for all of them for 'gonna set your flag on fire?' If that's too many, any and all of the ones that excite you the most.

HI NO NOT TERRIBLE AT ALL

gonna set your flag on fire

1: What inspired you to write the fic this way?

I didn't want to write an entire family history story that was required reading before anything for this story made sense, but also wanted everyone to know who the hell these people were and where they came from and what all the relevant history is. Hence, important flashbacks.

2: What scene did you first put down?

It's been a long long time since I started writing this fic, so I'm not honestly sure what the first scene was. Probably that very first moment, with Nora on her grandparents' porch, because I felt it was really important to show everyone from the very beginning that she was going to be okay.

3: What's your favorite line of narration?

Holding up his hands in defeat, Hackett gives in. “I will bring it up with the others,” he says. “But,” he softens his voice, and she knows that it’s now Steven talking to Olivia, not Admiral Hackett talking to Captain Shepard, “are you going to be able to give her up to us if something does happen?”

She squares her shoulders, looks him right in the eye, and lies. “Yes.”

4: What's your favorite line of dialogue?

bear (ha) with me here, but this interaction is fucking gold:

“Two o’clock,” Alle says. “Vakarian, check it out.”

She scopes in where Alle indicated. Nothing but trees. “I don’t see anything,” she says. But then movement catches her eye. “Wait,” she flips on her scope’s infrared sensors. “That’s…large,” she says, flatly. “It looks kind of like a bear.”

“Grizzly bear or black bear?” Carlos asks.

“It’s a bear,” Micah says, “what does it…?”

“They act differently,” Carlos says. “A grizzly would –”

“Neither,” Nora says, cutting off the incoming discussion on Earth-based bear behavior. “It’s got a long tail, for one thing.”

“Then it’s not a bear,” Carlos says.

“You have binoculars, you look at it.”

There’s a quiet shuffle as Carlos pulls out his binoculars. “That’s…Nora, what the hell, that doesn’t even look remotely like a bear.”

She glares in Carlos’ general direction. “Oh, you know what.”

Jonah coughs pointedly. “Let’s table the classification discussion and focus on whether it’s going to eat us.”

A few moments pass in silence, and then the shuffling noise repeats as Carlos puts his binoculars back. “There wasn’t anything about this in the planetary file, so it’s probably not an issue.”

“Because that’s not logic that hasn’t bitten us in the ass before,” Alle scoffs.

“I’m just saying, if the vorcha knew about the mutated pyjaks, the venomous snakes, and the extremophile bacteria that causes both, they would probably know if an eight-foot-tall predator was making its home in the jungle. They’re dumb, but they’re not that dumb.”

Nora practically hears Jonah rolling his eyes.

“Well, let’s hope that they’re dumb, but they’re not that dumb is an accurate analysis, but let’s go a little out of our way to avoid the bear anyway,” Jonah says. “Move out.”

“It’s not a bear,” Carlos starts.

5: What part was hardest to write?

Trying to write this rescue sequence has been the worst. Like I'm sure it'll turn out great. But right now it's a lot of tedium. I literally filmed the blocking with post-its and action figures on my phone three years ago (before we were anywhere near there in the plot) and have not gotten it written down.

6: What makes this fic special or different from all your other fics?

It's long. I normally write in the under-2k range but this is lengthier. It also noticeably has plot. Normally I write scenes or feelings or aesthetics. There's plot in this one, despite my absolute hatred of plot.

7: Where did the title come from?

my flag boy said to your flag boy, sittin' by the fire. my flag boy said to your flag boy, i'm gonna set your flag on fire.

Legit though, Phoebe Tonkin is Nora's faceclaim, and there's an episode of The Originals named "gonna set your flag on fire" and it got stuck on my head on loop until I decided it would be the title of the at-the-time-untitled Norafic. Serendipitously, it works as a taunt between Cerberus and the Alliance.

8: Did any real people or events inspire any part of it?

I'm sure that something or someone was inspired by real life interactions I've had with people, but I cannot for the life of me pinpoint anything specifically.

9: Were there any alternate versions of this fic?

There are a lot of cut scenes and I've worked and reworked pieces to the point where the original isn't recognizable anymore, but that's just editing. There aren't any true alternate versions.

10: Why did you choose this pairing for this particular story?

Besides the fact that it's their daughter, no other pairing, and I literally mean no other pairing, that I write would be standing after this story. None of them.

11: What do you like best about this fic?

All the stuff I got to make up because this happens 30 years post-canon. Nora's squad, James as CO, galactic politics, several space stations, etc. World-building is the best part of fic, as far as I'm concerned.

12: What do you like least about this fic?

That I actually have to write it instead of just opening up my brain and dumping it out onto a page and having it magically create itself. I have the whole thing filmed out in my head, it's just a matter of writing it down and that's hard.

13: What music did you listen to, if any, to get in the mood for writing this story? Or if you didn't listen to anything, what do you think readers should listen to to accompany us while reading?

It changes depending on what scene I'm working on. But here's the official soundtrack.

14: Is there anything you wanted readers to learn from reading this fic?

Go absolutely wild with OCs, it's fine.

15: What did you learn from writing this fic?

Plot is hard, which is less a lesson I learned from this fic in particular but more a lesson I learned several years ago that got even more cemented by this fic. I hate plot, but it really pays off.

[manuscripts-dontburn]

Lara: The Untold Love Story and the Inspiration for Doctor Zhivago

Author: Anna Pasternak

First published: 2016

Pages: 358

Rating: ★★★★☆

If you wish to read about an enduring love between two star-crossed lovers the world kept apart, skip this one. But if you wish to know more about a self-absorbed writer who found his greatest (though definitely not only -. as the book might want you to believe) inspiration in a much younger woman who actually showed him devotion over even her own life, this is a very, very interesting book. None of the people involved in it come out looking pretty and neat - but then that is life. Especially a life in the USSR when you dare to write something that goes against every societal norm. And love, love too is rarely pure or fair. It can still be what saves you and leaves a permanent trace on the world. This whole convoluted "review" could also just say: I found this book interesting and I want to re-read Doctor Zhivago now.

The Illness Lesson

Author: Clare Beams

First published: 2020

Pages: 271

Rating: ★★★★☆

A school in the remote countryside. 19th century. Strange birds. Teenage girls falling ill with unidentified maladies. In many ways, this sounds like a thriller or even a horror and I suspect that those who come to this book expecting to get some creeps and chills will inevitably be disappointed. The Illness Lesson is not a thriller or really even a tantalizing mystery. It does have other things to offer though: impressive writing which knows when to bloom and when to remain subtle; complicated relationships; believable characters; immersive atmosphere streaked with symbolism. Few things which one forms an opinion about at the start will remain unchanged once the reader reaches the conclusion. And while there are no great shifts and twists, enough of the story is unpredictable to be engaging. The book has a very slow start, but once you pass a certain point it flows easily forward, having some marvellously rage-inducing parts. Perhaps the explanation of the "mystery" is less than one might truly wish, but in the end, I found it to be just enough - for the story to conclude and my own imagination to do some work. Excellent as an autumnal read.

The Forest House

Author: Marion Zimmer Bradley, Diana L. Paxson

First published: 1992

Pages: 462

Rating: ★★★★☆

Unburdened by the Arthurian legend and thus by expectations one might have from the story itself, this is a much simpler and less peopled book than The Mists of Avalon (of which this is a prequel). It too takes place over a number of years and follows people who change over time, while staying the same in their very core still. There is both magic and harsh reality, which draws on actual history. And while I understand why many people might have been disappointed by this after loving the first book, I personally enjoyed it.

The Confessions of Frannie Langton

Author: Sara Collins

First published: 2019

Pages: 384

Rating: ★★★☆☆

There is lots to love and appreciate about this book. Beautiful writing. Complex plot. Characters who are all different shades of grey. There are sensitive and important topics introduced and explored. Objectively speaking, this is a simply very good book. And yet I did not love it. Something was missing throughout and I cannot identify what. At first it was too much like Wide Sargasso Sea as well as Alias Grace. When it finally shook off the eerie similarities, I found it a slog to get through, was bored, conteplated DNF-ing the book. The last quarter picked my interest again, but by then it was too late to really care for Frannie. One of the big letdowns of this years for me. Something simply refused to click into space.

Queen Victoria's Youngest Son

Author: Charlotte Zeepvat

First published: 1998

Pages: 304

Rating: ★★★☆☆

Charlotte Zeepvat is a very reliable researcher and a beautiful writer. She sheds light onto a minor historical personality of a man who does not appear in history books too often and provides an interesting look into an everyday reality of Victorian age - reality of mighty and privilleged, who actually seemed to have very little privilleges or say in their own lives. The problem is that while interesting, Leopold´s life was also so very restricted that reading about it sometimes becomes dull.

Wolf Hall

Author: Hilary Mantel

First published: 2009

Pages: 650

Rating: ★★★★★

It has been a long while since I read a historical fiction and I thought it was simply brilliant. Wolf Hall does tick all of my favourite boxes: meticulous research, magnificent writing, authentic atmosphere and behaviour of the characters. Add to it a very clever balancing between politics and personal matters - and you have clearly something worthy of notice. My only criticism might be that had I not been already familiar with the story, I would probably very soon get lost in the names and titles - and possibly even events, because flashback are included and not always clearly indicated. However at the same time I must say that even thought I am already familiar with the story, there were new things, new perspectives for me to discover and explored. This is how historical fiction should be done.

The Problem of Pain

Author: C.S. Lewis

First published: 1940

Pages: 162

Rating: ★★★★☆

I am not going to pretend I understood all that C.S. Lewis tries to explain or describe, but in any case, I find his voice soothing and earnest. While I am not sure how an atheist or a follower of other faiths would react to this small book, I, as a Christian, found it comforting. And I loved the fact he touched upon the pain of animals and their possible place in the life to come.

A Lineage of Grace

Author: Francine Rivers

First published: 2001

Pages: 576

Rating: ★★★☆☆

On the whole I liked this book, but a Christian book should still hold up as a good one even if an atheist or somebody of another faith reads it - I do not think this one would pass that test. It is a far cry from books like Quo Vadis, Ben Hur and especially The Secret of the Kingdom, which too deal with Biblical personages and the rise of Christianity. Even as a Christian I was not completely swept by the book, because even if your heart is in the right place, you need to be an exceptionally good and talented writer to re-tell such meaningful stories with all their original messages and yet not make your reader feel like you are hitting them over the head with the Bible itself. The balance here is sometimes reached and sometimes it is not. The women represented have flaws and desires, they are finally more than just footnotes, which I appreciated. I would say that for me as a reader with Christian faith and some knowledge of history the stories would rank as follows: Tamar, Ruth, Rahab, Bathsheba, Mary - from best to least impressive. I should also point out that when it comes to the last story, this is a very clerly PROTESTANT Christian book. Just so you know if you are interested.

Far From the Madding Crowd

Author: Thomas Hardy

First published: 1874

Pages: 476

Rating: ★★★★☆

This might be the book I am going to thrust into the hands of anyone sneering over classics being "boring" because here Hardy throws at you a real mess of relationships even to a point where it reminds one of a soap opera. What I liked the most about the book is that the central relationship is the one that grows on a long-term friendship and respect, both of which need to be earned. And I just love Hardy´s descriptions of nature. Other authors use those to merely set a scene or fill some space on a page, but Hardy manages to capture nature, the weather, the atmosphere as a wonderful burst of experience for all senses.

Mistresses: Sex and Scandal at the Court of Charles II

Author: Linda Porter

First published: 2020

Pages: 448

Rating: ★★★☆☆

Not that much sex or scandal (if you have ever read on basically any lecherous man in power), but quite a lot of politics. While I did find the book interesting, mostly because I am rather new to this period of history and because I am always in for finding out more about women of the past (so often relegated to mere footnotes, if that), it did not really sweep me up as I want my nonfiction to do. Not amazing but good.

The Deathless Girl

Author: Kiran Millwood Hargrave

First published: 2019

Pages: 304

Rating: ★★★★☆

No matter what you might think when seeing the beautiful cover, this is definitely not a book for children. This origin story of Dracula´s brides is full of gore and terror and also full of pain from beginning to end. Thankfully it is also a very compulsive read which I found difficult to put down, so I managed to finish it before the darkness of it all swallowed me - which sometimes can happen and ruin the reading experience. I also must say that in the end the feeling of sadness seeping through everything else was the strongest emotion I carried away. I am not sure how it would impress me as a re-read (I guess I shall have to see in a few years), but I could definitely recommend it for the Halloween season.

Bring Up the Bodies

Author: Hilary Mantel

First published: 2012

Pages: 485

Rating: ★★★★★

Just as powerful as the first one, perhaps even more so because the time period covered is shorter and we already know the characters. Even though one knows what will happen, there is still a haunting sense of dark foreboding and even a desire for things to turn out in some other way. It doesn´t, of course. But what a way to tell it!

A Madness So Discreet

Author: Mindy McGinnis

First published: 2015

Pages: 400

Rating: ★★★☆☆

A Madness So Discreet is actually a fine book. I especially liked the relationships which developed between the characters. The main issue for me is that what the book promises to give and what it actually delivers are two quite different things. Looking at the spectacular cover and reading the synopsis, I had expected a psychological/historical thriller with some unexplained phenomena or ghostly presence thrown in. Or something like that. Spooky and creepy, you know? And the start of the book is DARK as hell itself. Yet hardly a third of the book in it stops being about tortured minds and bodies and becomes.... a not so great or compelling YA detective story with a quite unsatisfactory and frankly unrealistic ending. I was pretty disappointed by that because had I known, I wouldn´t have bothered at all.

[an-intronerd]

thoughts on jaskier (+ geraskier) post episode 6: rare species

this was honestly supposed to be a teeny little rant but like, my hands grew minds of their own.

...

ok, so like, i recently binged the witcher (and i’m one of those people who has not yet read the books and never played the games, so going in, i had no idea who these characters were or what their dynamics in the other medias were like or anything) and next thing you know, i’m drowining in the geraskier fandom. 

as one does, i’ve seen a lot of geraskier content, including fics and the like, and one idea that’s always there is that jaskier is this heartbroken, sullen, pining thing after the Big Fight. like, 98% of what i’ve seen or read has sad!jaskier. and like, the general plot is always like 

jaskier is sad that geralt yelled mean things at him. 

jaskier sings heartbroken love songs. 

jaskier runs into geralt/geralt finds jaskier/somehow these two meet again. 

geralt is a dick/geralt feels bad but is emotionally constipated so he doesn’t know how to use words to apologize/geralt saves jaskier’s life. 

geralt and jaskier make up because jaskier knows how to read his witcher’s emotions and forgives him. optional: they bang.

the end.

and its like, people aren’t perfect?? i think that’s a little unrealistic. and yes, fanfiction can be like that sometimes, because it’s what we want to happen. but like, imagine this:

jaskier going through the 5 stages.

jaskier goes down the mountain, leaving geralt behind. what else can he possibly do?

jaskier spends a few nights wasted and crying because hey, guess what, the love of his life for the better part of two decades is a gaint wart-covered dick. he’s sad about it, sue him.

jaskier decides fuck this, his witcher is a piece of shit and though he is by no means the best person on the planet, he is at least good enough to deserve better than what geralt gave him. or well, was incapable of giving him.

jaskier decides he will move on, and it’ll start with him getting out of this mountainside village and heading to one of the first places where he truly found himself, oxenfurt. afterall, music has been and will always be the one constant and greatest pleasure in his life.

it takes time, but jaskier perseveres. he gets over his denial pretty quickly. he will not believe geralt didn’t care for him at all. he knows that’s an insult to both of them. geralt cared in his own way. thats the truth. unfortunately, the other, much harsher truth is that it wasn’t enough. so, no geralt won’t be coming for him, and jaskier won't be waiting around.

anger is a bit harder to get over. once it truly sets in, it’s all jaskier can do not to hunt down that fucking white wolf and tear him a new one. jaskier is a person, he is a human with feelings, and that damned witcher had no right to treat him like the scum at the bottom of his shoe. if it wasn’t for jasker, geralt would still be run out of every other town he came across, stoned and bloody. he’d probably have died in a puddle of his own blood fifty times over by now, considering all the times jaskier had to patch him up. that ungrateful prick. except, once he’s exhausted three supllies of parchment and written enough songs about the bitcher, (yes not his most creative insult but he’s too petty to care!) he knows none of that is remotely true. and he wants closure.

and that’s when bargaining hits him full force. all of a sudden, he just needs to see geralt one more time. once more great adventure and a song to go with it, one more meal shared, one more conversation, to see if geralt really ever cared. he needs to ask him, and have geralt verbally confirm or deny his doubts. he needs this, just once. one more time, he needs to see his witcher, and it’ll be enough. one more time. just once. he almost fails himself, on one lonely night. he knows he can’t, he doesn’t even know where he’d start looking but he’s drunk beyond the point where common sense dictates his actions, and he’s packed half his belongings... and he’s getting ready... to track down the white... wolf... he wakes up with a bitch of a hangover the next day, but he didn’t go after geralt. he knows deep down once will never be enough. 

anger was tough, but depression was worse. it came for him like a siren in all her glory, drawing him in and in and in until he’s drowing and he didn’t even realise when that happened and then it’s too much, it’s too painful... he isn’t really surprised. he thrives on emotion, the good and the bad, it’s how he writes such brilliant ballads, he admits he hadn’t really delved into his own feelings about geralt yet. he hadn’t dealt with all the heartbreak follwing the mountain, and maybe he should have done so earlier, but he doesn’t think it matters. his heart wasn’t going to hurt any less months earlier when the wounds were still fresh. and though they may have closed up over time, the phantom pain is always with him. there are days where all he can do is curl up under his blankets and sob. some days he goes without eating a single morsel, finds himself lightheaded from dehydration, not leaving his bed for anything more than to relieve himself. some days, he flips through old songbooks, filled with twenty-odd years of adventure, both the fun and the dangerous kind, and laughter and frustration, companionship and solidarity... what was it he used to say? death and destiny, heroics and heartbreak. words of a lifetime past. some days, he compartmentalizes and sets all that aside in a little box in his mind and goes about his day as if he isn’t weighed down by the constant weight of his loss. it’s almost too much, but he’ll manage, he tells himself. he doesn’t let himself think of what he would do if he can’t.

it’s a cloudless day outside, and he’s in the market for new writing materials, and he’s going over next week’s lesson plan in his head, when he’s hit with the sudden realization that he hasn’t thought about geralt in a while. he’s thinking of him now, sure, but that doesn’t count because he’s thinking of how he’s not thinking of him, it’s a totally different thing, and oh- it doesn’t ache as much as it used to. he feels lighter than he has in a while, and he doesn’t know how that happened, or when, but he’s... okay. 

that’s the thing about healing, it happens whether you realise it or not, you just have to give ypurself a chance. it’s pontless to hold on to the negative feelings because you’re trying to hold on to something or someone that isn’t there anymore or maybe never really was. he didn’t know when it happened, but. the bitterness that accompanied the memories of geralt’s last words is no longer there. neither is the anger. there’s a dull sadness, but mostly it’s resignation and a sort of comfortable if lonely acceptance that geralt is gone. but there’s also a bittersweet understanding that jaskier will always love him. the history they shared isn’t erased because of a few angry words. jaskier will have, if nothing else, a lifetime full of moments and memories. if he sees geralt again, it will no longer be with a vision clouded in pain or anger or sadness, but rather a deep-seated love and forgiveness. he will let geralt decide now what they will be to each other. but he will not accept anything less than what he is worth. he will not be geralt’s punching bag. if geralt wants to have a relationship with him again, it will be one of equals, the bard and the witcher. if he wants to go their seperate ways, well, jaskier will live content like that too. 

he’s moved on.

sometimes, moving on doesn’t mean finding someone else. sometimes, it means mending your own heart, piece by broken piece, and then tucking it away safely inside, giving it a chance to heal. it’s about making that very difficult choice to let go of the bad that you’re holding on to, because it’s a way of holding on to the person you lost. it’s about finding yourself again, and who you were before the pain and heartbreak, and, figuring out who you want to be now. i need more of that, because that’s real. that’s how i imigine jaskier would feel. he’s not perfect, and he has his ups and downs as all of us do, and he is angry at geralt and sad and broken but also he’ll pick himself up, because he was someone before geralt, too, and he’ll still be someone after geralt, not just the witcher’s bard. he doesn’t know who that is yet, but he’ll figure it out.

and because i’m at my core a geraskier + happy endings hoe:

geralt realises an important thing on that mountaintop. he has been running from destiny and anything real all his life. he needs to get his head out of his ass, and find ciri. clearly, he was destined to lose yen, and that’s happened, no matter how hard he tried to make it different. she’s destined to be his and he accepts that now, but everything else is up to him. 

he finds ciri, and then, he’s a father. he vows to be a better parent than the one he had. 

he finds yen, and they learn to be enough for each other without turning it into something more than a vague frienship. somewhere between a truce and a partnership. for ciri, they agree.

he returns to kaer morhen, to his family with his daughter and his yennefer in tow. 

he realises that he has everything he could ever want, and more than any witcher ever gets, but there’s still something missing. 

then he realises it’s his bard, the one person who wasn’t unwillingly tied to him because of some wish or destiny, someone who chose him every single time, and who he misses with such a fierce ache.

then he remebers how badly he fucked that up, and then yen tells him he’s a wart-covered, emotionally constipated dick, and dumb too, but hey thank god you finally got your head out of your ass long enough to realise that you miss your bard and you’re sorry for what you did and you love him, and geralt just goes what? yen, love? oh- okay so that’s what the constant turning of his stomach and insomnia is.

then he sets out to find his bard, and ciri asks if she’ll finally get to hear all those famous songs about geralt from the source, and he says he hopes so.

it doesn’t take him long to find his bard, now a professor at oxenfurt academy, and geralt thinks that makes perfect sense because where else would jaskier have gone but to one of the few bright bits of his youth?

he gets to oxenfurt and it’s a cloudless day, and there’s people millig about and he thinks he’ll head to an inn and give roach a well-deserved rest, and then his heart stops. because there is jaskier, exchanging coin for parchment, and he looks just as he did a year and a half ago, except less disappointed and more happy and his heart hasn’t beaten this fast since he was a child left on vesemir’s doorstep. he thinks of all the nights he’s been unable to sleep because he had gotten so used to the bard’s humming and how it had been the most soothing wordless lullaby. he thinks of his last words, and he feels his breath leave him, because jaskier had taken it to heart, and left him. he’d given geralt his one blessing, and geralt thinks that those words are something he will regret for as long as he is living. he gives himself a moment to wonder if perhaps he should leave jaskier to the life he’s created for himself, be unselfish for once and let jaskier remain happy and safe and free. 

he should leave, though he knows that jaskier deserves so much more from him, an apology to start, and then a real friendsip, one tat goes both ways, and wow, geralt really is a wart-covered dick because he had treated jaskier so unfairly and he doesn’t undertsand why jaskier kept coming back to him, again and again. destiny hadn’t entwined their paths. jaskier chose to entangle them anyways. and he deserves so much more than geralt of rivia, and he should let jaskier have that, he should...

but he couldn’t walk away now, not when jaskier, his bard, his life-long friend, is standing right there, and jaskier turns, collecting his items and geralt stops breathing because jaskier looks over, and geralt watched the recognition flit over the bard’s face as he sees roach and then up, up, up, his eyes trace geralt’s form until.

their eyes meet, and jaskier smiles.

tl;dr: i just want more realistic portrayls of jaskier’s emotions after the Big Fight in episode 6, and i want to see jaskier go through all the feelings, and more depth to him that just some pining, heartbroken lump of a person. he’s more nuanced than that, i think. 

p.s: a big part of this ended up being based on my own experineces with love and friendship, pain and hertbreak, and the process of moving forward despite it all. idk how much of that comes through, and i hadn’t really planned for this post to go in the direction that it did, but i like how it turned out. i’m still trying to figure out that tricky little thing about making the choice to let go, and writing this helped?

p.p.s: this ended up way, way, wayyyyy longer than i intended, oops? why do i do this lol

p.p.p.s: if fics like this actually exist, please feel free to tag me in them or send me links, i would adore you forever!