#maybe i will write something longer about this bc the exploration of grief is so fascinating

[theghostofashton]

this show really said everyone is processing losing someone (and receiving head trauma)

[holyshonks]

I've been keeping a secret for longer than seems helpful, and I'm starting to feel like a lurker in a trench coat and one of those novelty glasses-mustache disguises, so uhhhhhhhhh. Announcement:

I'm in the process of writing a three-part Halo fanfiction series! Part one is already complete and we are underway with part two.

I wasn't going to say anything, but now it feels weirder not to? I kept it close to my chest bc

1. Shy

2. I'm out of practice with creative writing generally

3. I'm new to this, so I wanted to feel it out first and;

4. I knew that for an undertaking like this, i needed to stay laser-focused, and to do that, I needed to cut out the noise. Just me and the text. Otherwise I would have felt a lot of pressure.

It was also kind of a challenge to myself, as if to prove that I was writing for myself and only myself, I had to tell no one. I had to go in with zero expectations. But the longer I go, the more I'm sad I can't share. Writing and feedback is such a communal thing that I effectively cut myself out of for over a year now, and the more time passed, the more I felt like I couldn't say anything. But then some of the lovely folks on here started interacting with some of my other writing on there and I feel weirder not saying anything.

So, what's it about? The series is called Don't Go Where I Can't Find You and is, at its core, an interspecies love story. You're shocked, I know. But, it is also:

A story about grief in a traumatized galaxy, and how that shapes us. It's a story where the ghosts are as much characters as the living. It's a story about the people who don't get to be heroes, the people who actually suffer the consequences of the machinations going on above them. It is about people who feel desperate and alone. It is melancholy.

On the other hand, it's about love! And healing. It's about taking risks and relearning how to be happy. It's about family and facing generational trauma. It's about grappling with new normals and writing your own story.

It is unashamedly a love story and can get saccharine and ooey-gooey at times. It also gets sexy. You have been warned.

I personally love every single Halo character and want to give them a little kissy. That being said, they tend to be exceptional or heroic or powerful and that's not what I wanted for this story. This story is about normal folks, so I created a lot of normal folks. If you're looking for your favs, they are not in here, and even when they appear, they will not be at the forefront of the story.

More than anything, this story is me playing in the Halo sandbox and loving it. I am getting to explore so much lore and really sink my teeth into the aspects of the universe that appeal to me the most. I can't verify it, but I think I've extrapolated well (and have yet to be proven wrong!!). This is my labor of love and the biggest creative undertaking I've taken on in 8 years.

Sorry for the paragraphs, it's just that I was going to brush it off as a "tee hee, surprise, nbd" sort of thing, but actually I've been busting my ass for over a year and I'm not going to pretend otherwise. I poured (and continue to pour) my heart into this, and would be glad if you took a look. Maybe there's something in there for you.

And the BEST news is I get to interact with everyone on AO3 without feeling like I'm creeping under the floorboards.

Find me! I'm FleshandFaith!

p.s. I'm also TERRIBLE and titles and blurbs. I give them .003 seconds of thought so don't think too hard about them bc I certainly didn't. More than anything, I am determined to fucking finish it. It will not be perfect. I will finish it.

[patrocles]

throbb? Sansaery? Daemon/Nettles?

THROBB 10/10 ship name. In the books I don't really ship them at all, Robb feels SO much younger than Theon. But show!throbb absolutely fucks. There's absolutely a queer undertone to this dynamic that a better writer could have explored, especially when you utilize the quote "I should have been with him. Where was I? I should have died with him." Especially since the show went out of its way to make Theon his only friend in the war. Neither of them were beating the fruity allegations when Robb told Theon he didn't have to call him 'your grace' when no one else was around. And so if EYE was writing Theon in the aftermath of the Red Wedding, I would have shelved all the castration jokes in favor of Theon truly having to grapple with Robb's death and his feelings surrounding him (jealousy, unrequited love, repressed bisexualty, etc). It wasn't just that they were best friends, but Theon loved him, was in love with him, and he still betrayed him. Could something have happened? Something that was always just beneath the surface? Maybe, but now he'll never know. Robb should have been an ever-present figure in Theon's arc for the rest of the series. And how so much of Theon's quest for redemption is rooted in accepting the way in which he loved Robb, accepting his own grief for what it was, and being able to let it go to finally attain absolution.

SANSAERY - I feel like I'm in the minority in that I actually don't care about this ship all that much... And if we're keeping it 100 I don't really like Natalie's Margaery all that much either. I definitely think they should have kept her the same age as Sansa, and I think I'd feel better about them in the show? Idk there's something about her going from a scheming, but still ultimately a pawn-of-the-patriarchy teen girl, to the sexy seductress with quippy lines to shade Cersei and sleeps with a pubescent child bc the writers are freaks that kind Icks me. And even in the book it's hard to really think of their friendship as anything tangible when Sansa is so desperate for a friend and then gets dropped the second the Tyrells plans for her falls through. HOWEVER, should Margy live (and I hope she does!) I would really like to see them reunite at the end, after everything they've both been through.

DAEMON/NETTLES - If "get a job! get away from her!" was a ship. I genuinely think of them as like Jason Bateman falling for Juno while she's a teenager and carrying his surrogate child simply because they bonded over nerd shit. (obviously sans the child) Like he's old now, and she represents the youth he misses and the ~Targaryen Values~ that he's obsessed with. (the dragonriding, the ferocity). I don't think she was his daughter, but I definitely think he treated her like one even if they had a sexual relationship. He traded Rhaenyra in when Nettles was the best replacement for what Rhaenyra no longer had- youth. Not to mention, he replaced Rhaena too, his own daughter, for the one that had a dragon and could fight alongside him. And the thing for Nettles is that Daemon was her only real access to social mobility, despite her own capabilities. I'm so glad that old bitch died and she got to live as a fire goddess in the Vale.

[surveillance-0011]

Omega 3 fans rise

Anyhoo, since you mentioned AUs, I feel like I have to ask..

You got any AUs where they’re the main focus?

(Also I was the one that asked for angst HCs and now my heart is in pieces thank you)

RISE RISE RISE and you’re welcome :)

I’ve got a couple!!

Doll Au:technically not centered on them but as of now this au is basically just. Open world with many a story to tell. But uh they (and most salmonids?) are rag dolls. At least the Cellist and Timpanist are, maybe the DJ is a different kind or has better material bc Goldie (which isn’t stated canon yet but he has the eyes and the fringy bits and jewelry/piercings so. Probably the case). But they’d all a little roughed up, well loved, mended over and over. They make their music, live their lives, sew each other back up again when needed…somewhere between quaint and chaotic. when I write or draw more for this au it’ll all be vignettes of events, tales that range from whimsical to creepy to heartbreaking. If a little absurd.

Reincarnation AU: also focused on everyone but these guys are in it so the gist with them is that they’ve been in nearly all of each others past lives as rivals or adversaries and continue to be a part of each others next lives as friends. Also since DJ is a Goldie and those live longer he does cross paths with one or two of the other two’s next lives since he ends up outliving them both by a long time.

Inkfish/Turf War AU/hypotheticals: not rlly an au yet but I’ve posted abt what they’d main and how they’d play turf war before so that counts for something? I’ve considered exploring it further in an au where they’re all inkfish (octolings probably) or maybe just outright make a splatband species swap au to explore how that would change their music and whatnot. Hm… Warabi salmonid…

Human designs/Au: In general I like to draw nonhuman characters as human bc it’s a nice creative exercise in translating certain traits (both physical and personality) to something that still gives the same vibe. Uh in an au where everyone is just a modern day human they’d just be like. A “normal” but very experimental band situated/formed in Hokkaido or Okinawa. There’s less animosity between them and inkfish bc Yknow. Human so no gruesome Grizzco war would take place but they still end up with many a rivalry and people they don’t get along with bc of their unique sound often being turned away in favor of the more mainstream musicians and their personalities are just as easy to clash with as in canon.

Putting the last two under a read more bc it’s getting long. And warning for darker content- death, horror, one offhand mention of suicide ahead…

Death/Ghost AU(s): MORE ANGST sorry about your heart. Hopefully this doesn’t grind it to dust. Technically AUs bc there’s like three different hypotheticals here. All involve the same prompt with one of the three dying during a salmon run shift, some sort of freak accident or being too close to the sr stage and getting hit by one of the longer ranged specials (Killer wail, sting ray). But Yknow basically an unexpected undignified death. And then coming back as a ghost and hijinks and angst and low grade nightmare fuel ensue. So basically the 3 outcomes/sub-aus are:

Cellist dies: Very distraught about the dying-and-becoming-a-ghost thing but more so abt having to leave the other two to mourn and pick up the pieces. He haunts his cello, basically clinging onto it and he eventually becomes able to play again (initially he’s very much invisible and intangible but becomes something more along the lines of a poltergeist). But the thing is the other two basically took it home with them bc he’s got got no other living relatives go claim his belongings and they want something to remember him by and can’t bring themselves to part with it so. Haunting ensues. Typical poltergeist happenings and just. They keep hearing him play. It’s horrible to deal with, just a reminder of their own grief. He eventually gains the strength to truly make himself known, able to be seen and communicate more directly… but he appears as he did in his last moments, still bleeding bright pink ink. Still horrific but he’s able to tell them he means no harm. Not to them, at least. He resolves to stay, too stubborn and concerned for the other two to just pass on. So, perma-bleeding ghost here to stay. Yay. While he doesn’t mean to hurt them they rlly don’t like seeing him like this and he becomes prone to bouts of more typical haunting activity that at times becomes aggressive. At one point they do consider exorcising him.

DJ dies: most… “lighthearted” of the three options! Somehow. They end up haunting the home as well, communicating via technology esp their own computer which they turn on and try to control in an attempt to communicate. Unlike with the Cellist version of this au the other two catch on to exactly what’s going on sooner and the DJ does actually make themselves visible earlier on. But they’re otherwise intangible and weak outside of their controlled tech. So for a haunting it’s relatively low in actual traumatizing events, since they’re more amicable and mischievous than the other two when they die. But while they try to be a nice friendly upbeat ghost they’re still rlly upset abt being dead and not as good at hiding it as they think. So between their attempts at being a ghostly prankster they have these bouts of jealousy and grief that they need to be helped through, not to mention how the other two are technically still mourning. Still this is probably the least scary and upsetting outcome? Also the ink color that they bleed would be the typical orange.

Timpanist dies: on the other hand. Oh boy. This version and the Cellist’s are both more upsetting but while that one is more depressing and tragic I feel like this one would go straight devastating horror. I feel like not passing on normally would fuck with the Timpanist. He would not grasp how he is still around and feels like he’s done something wrong if he’s not in the afterlife yet. Unless someone’s keeping it from him. Or unless this is all there is. Maybe at first he would nobly resolve to protect the other two, any way he can. But he can’t. They don’t sense him. He can’t interact. Totally intangible and invisible. Maybe he’s even bound to the exact spot he died, stuck right on stage. Forever. Forced to watch every performance go on without him. Forced to stay anchored to the scene of his last moments, unable to follow his friends home like he used to. Unable to give or get any comfort. And eventually it just breaks him. There’s nothing he can do… but actually there is: he can possess others. Idk how he figures it out but once he does. Every other day, another Inkfish loses it. Takes off the lifesaver ink tank and runs to the nearest salmonid, or the water, open arms. Those who are held down, stopped right when their eyes go wide and their face pale until the moment passes, report hearing a familiar timpani beat, then just… going blank. It continues for a while. Then he gets the bright idea to possess another salmonid. Maybe one of the other two. Now he can finally reach out again. But he’s… changed. He’s not the same person he was. So desperate, without reason or regard… Having heard and seen what happened, the DJ is well aware of what is going on when the Cellist stops what they’re doing, turns to them with wide eyes, and says hello. Or, when they hear those familiar rhythms, and then that familiar voice, fuzzy but still understandable, right in the back of their mind. But he tries to communicate by possessing one or both of them, basically trying to stick around and act like everything can go back to normal. But it gets to the point where’s he’s just no longer able to connect the same way and basically alternates between wreaking havoc on inkfish and trying to stick with the other two, every bout of possession becoming more terrifying and violent. Eventually it gets to the point where they have to get rid of him before he gets rid of them. Then the two outcomes would be that they exorcise him… or die trying. Oh and the ink is either the new yellow green or lilac.

Monster AU: Cellist as an onyrō or ningyo, Timpanist as either a Yukijin (demons that protect Noboribetsu’s Hell Valley) or Onibi Will-o-Wisp sort of ghost (bc Green Flame) and DJ as a Shachihoko (Tiger-Fish hybrid creature). If I go with the Cellist being an Onyrō I’d mix this with the ghost au concept: he’d be a normal mortal before joining the band but would die sometime between 2 and 3, either in a freak accident like in the normal ghost au or… well… as I mentioned in the last hc post… yeah. But he’d come back as a ghost either way and decide to torment Grizzco’s employees forever… and keep making music, because hey, he’s at least tangible enough to still hold the cello. But in this case he’d be more dangerous and malicious than the base ghost au but not as directed towards the others either!

And then there’s my “Omega 3 as Single Player Bosses” proposal which may eventually become a whole au or DLC pitch. Like Deep Cut they’d be fighting you for reasons only kind of sort of related to the issue at hand but probably a little more direct (bc they want to kick your ass for being an inkfish with possible ties to Grizzco and think you straight up abducted little buddy probablyyyy). I think they also may target you if you’re working with OTH in the DLC bc they remember that those two promoted Grizzco so the rivalry that forms between the two bands is mainly born of that and part of the story would be the two having realized Grizzco sux. Or something. I think Marina already had a hunch and has more respect for salmonids but the network still made them advertise and Pearl would be oblivious bc Inkling Propaganda or just not understanding that Salmonids don’t come back when they die.

[hualianisms]

1-10 for the fic ask game

hello, thanks for the ask!!

What’s something new that you tried in a fic this year in 2023? How did it turn out and would you do it again?

writing the 5 stages of grief in my fic of gojo grieving geto. it turned out well and fun, i would absolutely do it again

2. How many fics did you work on this year (2023)? (They don’t have to be finished or published!)

9-10 including wips/ongoing multichaps😭

3. What’s something you learned about yourself as a writer?

i learnt that out of all the parts of writing, im most drawn to and best at exploring emotions. i write best when im really feeling the emotions of a scene and fic. but this also means idk how to do plot or action even tho i would love to, and anything other than introspection/character study is a struggle for me (again, even tho i would love to learn how to do all those other things) 😭

i also learnt that sometimes when i have writer's block for longer than a month, i may need to read a new book to "fill up my well". and that i need to push past my brain's automatic thoughts of "oh i wouldn't be able to write it" and just try + give it time, bc sometimes smth that i think i can't write or that i blank on, starts coming to it after a while (even if a month or even year later)

i also rly need to be less impatient (thanks adhd brain lol) to rush through writing just for the sake of finishing and instead carefully edit more rounds before posting. and that adhd makes it harder for me to sit there and write for more than a short while so i need to find ways to make it interesting for myself.

4. What piece of media inspired you the most?

based on number of fics including wips, i guess tgcf

5. What fandom(s) did you write for this year?

tgcf, jjk, mysterious lotus casebook, arcane

6. What ship(s) captured your heart?

new ones in 2023: fanghua, satosugu

7. What character(s) captured your heart?

new ones in 2023: fang duobing (mysterious lotus casebook)

8. Did you write for a new fandom or ship this year?

yes. jjk - satosugu, mysterious lotus casebook - fanghua, arcane

9. What fic meant the most to you to write?

my wip fenglian exes au (will hopefully finish it by fenglian week next month) bc i can finally write the exact flavour of fenglian that i like most :'))

10. What fic made you feel the happiest to work on?

i'm not sure... maybe my hualian space/dr who au although that gave me stress too or my fanghua reunion/llh introspection fic

send me a number for the 2023 fic writer asks!

[criticofallthings]

SO IT’S 5:12AM BECAUSE I’VE BEEN TYPING AWAY A NEW HEADCANNON PIECE OF CRACK IDEA THAT WOULDN’T LET ME SLEEP IF I DIDN’T. edit: bc tumblr mobile app is dumb I had to restart in a web browser and it is now 6:03 AM.

Anyway yeah so that Hawkmokn lore tab where we see Guardian lad and Crow get drunk and be merry (brain’s a little scramble rn, but I’m preeetty sure its the Hawkmoon lore tab)?? Yeah so that and trauma bonding / healing bc if I haven’t said it a thousand times and then sme yet, Imma say it again: POOR TRAUMATIZED GUARDIANS OMFG 😭😭😭

No title no beta bc literally just shat this out the past couple of hours:

cw/tw: ptsd, referenced major character death, death, implied depression/major grief, self depreciation

ps. usually I write nonbinary Guardian, but today we got lady she/her Guardian

pps. this fic is a heckin chonker compared to the previous ones

———————————————————————

Crow’s lips were gentle against the Guardian’s own, a bit dry, but sweet and heady with the lingering wine. The kiss was sudden. It was spontaneous. And it made something warm and so soft and so, so very fragile, hatch within the Guardian’s chest.

Until she opened her eyes and saw those golden eyes, glowly softly in the dark, beneath dusky white and raven black fringe. The pale smokey blue of his skin, luminous where it reflected the warmth of the campfire, and cast in deep shadows where the night’s darkness fought to shade his face. The smell of ash suddenly weighs much heavier in the air.

That warm, soft, and fragile thing in the Guardian’s chest goes cold and sharp and hard. Time slows and speeds up at the same time within her mind, stealing her away to a prison of memories. Blood rushes to her ears, drowning out the warning from Ghost to Crow and Glint.

The Guardian shoved Crow away and stood up, a heavy handcannon with a white spade on the stock materializing into her hand, aimed at Crow’s heart. An errant blip of data-Light to Crow’s left is all that hints at Glint’s swift dematerialization. Crow stays prone on the ground, spawled on his back, one hand raised up, in an attempt to pacify —unwittingly making it harder for the Guardian to snap out of that memory.

The stench of burnt oil, sweat, and soot fills her nose. She only hears the crackles of flames and electric buzzing as her heart pounds, coldly staring into Crow’s bewildered eyes. Those deep golden eyes that had haunted her waking hours and chased her down in nightmares. Those eyes filled with cruelty as they watched her stumble to Cayde’s dying side. She doesn’t realize yet, but the tears she couldn’t shed before, now weep from her eyes. The handcannon trembles slightly in her grip.

Ghost floats over into his Guardian’s field of view. He’s careful to let her know he’s doing so by giving her shoulder a bump as he glides to a rest above the stock of the handcannon. He hovers there, his one eye searching both of hers, glow dimmed slightly. His shell gives a soft whirl before he speaks, leaning in gently towards her.

“That is not him.”

The silence is deafening, every second only increasing the tension. Ghost clicks his shell, uncertain if his words were even heard. He tries again, bobbing in the air.

“Crow is not him.”

The handcannon trembles. But the Warlock doesn’t move, bound by so much tension you’d think she was a Hunter about to leap into the air to throw a Blade Barrage.

“Crow is not him.”

Ghost speaks again, insistent, shell whirling softly as he flits closer to his Guardian. A flicker of recognition crosses her face. The handcannon falters, no longer aimed directly at Crow’s chest. Ghost nudges her hand, bumping the Guardian’s aim to the ground.

She trembles, a full body shudder and the handcannon slips from her grasp. Suddenly she’s aware, all too aware of what happened, and the tension holding her still dissipates. She falls to her knees, energy completely spent.

“I, I-I’m so sorry.” She’s barely able to whisper the words in his direction.

Before her, Crow watches, eyes wide and doe-like, shocked and unsure of what to do. Of what just happened. A sinking feeling blooms in his gut.

He knows he wasn’t a good man before he died. Plenty of guardians had made that clear through their boot heels and fists, gunfire and knives, with their Light in three different energies: arc, void, and solar.  As did the Eliksni, who cursed him in their language while their Captains tore him apart with their four arms.

Crow knows it’s an understatement to say he wasn’t a good man in his previous life. Even if he could never learn about who that man was, what he did, and would only by the number of shattered bones and bruised flesh just how much pain that man had caused —Crow decided early on that he could take it. It was penance. It was justly due and therefore he couldn’t call it painful.

But this? This hurt.

It hurt because now he knows that the man he once was had struck an incomprehensible blow to the Guardian he had come to know more of. It hurt because he had been holding on to a small hope, an indescribably small bit of hope, that of all the people he had encountered in his previous life that he had never met the Guardian. Because if they had never met, then maybe, maybe there was someone he didn’t hurt. His first friend. His savoir. His now not-so-secret-crush. And the longer he thought about it, the greater that sinking feeling in his gut grew.

He could no longer deny the shock and subdued anger and almost very well hidden grief he had seen flash across her face when he revealed himself to her and Osiris. He could no longer deny the way they had kept him at distance while easily in sight with a hand hovering over their gun every time they met him for a Hunt or to study a newly sprouted Cryptolith. Why his attempts at humor and jokes were met with cool silence. Why whenever he saw that handcannon, he instinctively recoiled away from it, phantom pain bursting sharply in his heart.

——————

Crow remembers the first time he saw the Guardian wield that gun. How she had effortlessly cleared a pack of thrall in one clip, each headshot exploding in a flurry of solar. How his body reacted: legs collapsing beneath him, his heart burning painfully, lungs gasping for air that never seemed to make it into him, retching pathetically, as tears streamed down his face.

Why was he crying?

Why did he feel an insurmountable wall of sorrow and regret?

She had seen him fall and before the last thrall had burnt away completely, she came running towards him. All he could see in that moment was that gun getting closer and all he felt was an innate desire to get away.

Run, run, run, run, run before you die!

Run you before you burn!

The Guardian came close, hands splayed before her, voice speaking in soothing tones, words lost upon his panicking ears. He had screamed then, in abject terror. It was a garbled and pitched sound as he tried to breathe and vomit and scrabble away all at the same time; his eyes riveted to the handcannon now holstered at her side. Her Warlock mind, keen to details, quickly realized what had triggered his panic and she deftly threw the gun to her Ghost who transmatted it away mid-air.

Crow doesn’t remember what the Guardian said to him, but he remembers how carefully she reached out to him. How she framed his face in her gauntleted hands, so gentle, so lightly, as if he might shatter into glass —just to touch her forehead to his. How the puffs of her outward breaths ghosting by his cheeks helped calm his own.

And he knew then, in that moment that no matter what that gun meant that he was already in too deep. When with a simple touch, the Guardian could soothe away old terrors he himself knew nothing of, Crow knew then. He loves her.

——————

Crow slowly got to his feet, mindful of the Guardian (who was despondently staring into her open hands while Ghost hovered on her shoulder). He looks at that gun, chest starting to burn, heartbeat increasing. Clenching a fist at his side, Crow takes a tentative step and then another until he’s close enough to pick up the handcannon. He gingerly picks it up by the barrel, keeping his hands off the stock on purpose. It’s another small step towards the Guardian before he kneels in front of them.

He pauses there, unsure of what he can do —of what he did that caused the Guardian to react so violently before. He doesn’t think it was the kiss itself...that seemed to be fine until she looked at his face, into his eyes. Ah. Crow rests the handcannon on his thigh and pulls up his hood, jerking it to cover more of his face. Cautiously he grabs the handcannon by the barrel again and with his other hand, slowly reaches for one of the Guardian’s own. She lets him guide her hand to the handcannon and once he’s sure she won’t drop it, Crow gently pushes both towards her again. The Guardian looks away, but cradles the handcannon in her lap.

More hesitantly now, Crow raises his hands to cup her face just as she once did for him. He can’t exactly see with his hood covering so much of his face, but he slowly gets nearer and carefully moves his hands over the side of her face. He leans forward to rest his forehead against hers, the edges of his hood brushing across his nose as he did so, fully obscuring his vision. Crow doesn’t know of anything he could say in this moment —what could he of all people say to her, Guardian of guardians, that could possibly make a difference? So he doesn’t say anything. Instead, Crow softly hums.

It’s an old melody, a lullaby he found while exploring abandoned freighters and passenger ships in the Reef. When Glint discovered his fondness for it, the Little Light would often hum the tune, sitting on his chest, to soothe him on several sleepless nights in Spider’s Lair. Crow hopes that this at least, can help ground the Guardian in the present and away from the painful memories in her past.

They stay like this for a while. The Guardian’s breath evens out and somewhere along the time past, Ghost had dematerialized. It was just the two of them now. Crow stops humming when he feels the Guardian raise a hand to cover one of his over her face. She leans into his palm, then forward against his forehead for a moment.

“I’m sorry, Crow, I’m so sor—“ She starts to apologize and it’s a whisper until she says his name to apologize once more. Crow doesn’t want to hear this, he doesn’t deserve an apology. So Crow cuts off the Guardian by dropping his hands to her sides and pulling her into his chest.

The sudden movement sends the Guardian toppling onto Crow. He curls forward to protect his head, but keeps his arms around her, falling flat on his back. The Guardian doesn’t move to get off of him and Crow takes that as an okay sign. He keeps one arm around her, the other he moves to card his fingers through her hair.

“Of all the people in this world, Guardian, I am the last of anyone to whom you owe an apology.” Crow let’s his words hang in the air, trying to keep his breathing even so his heart would stay less frantic too.

“If anything,” he pauses to admire a particularly silky strand of hair as it slips through his fingers.

“I am the one indebited to you.”

There’s another pause as he sorts his next words before speaking. His hand idly resumes carding through the Guardian's hair again.

“So much so that I wonder if it’s selfish greed that makes me want to stay like this.” Crow sighs, looking straight up into the star speckled sky above them. At this angle he can’t see the Guardian, but he feel her shift slightly in his arms.

“Even though you’ve done so much for a worthless stain of a being as me…Even though I can never atone for the things I’ve done befo—“ He’s interrupted by the Guardian slapping a hand over his mouth.

“You are not him.” She shifts in his arms, sitting up, moving a leg over to straddle him properly.

Crow grabs his fallen hood in a panic, pulling the fabric so swiftly up around his face he hears the fabric creak as its seams struggle to stay sewn. Still, he doesn’t let the material go, trying to keep his face hidden.

“You are not him.” The Guardian repeats herself, lifting her hand from his mouth. Crow can’t tell with what emotion she said it with and he’s too afraid to check just yet. He doesn’t want to cause her harm again, regardless of how circumstantially accidental it was.

“Crow…”

He freezes at the way she calls his name. It was different from how she usually said it. It sounded soft and so warm in her voice. The Guardian prods at one of hands clamped on his hood. He turns his head to the side, trying to escape beneath a look he could practically feel brushing against his hands.

“I...I-I don’t want to hurt you...again.” Crow’s heart beats skittishly within his chest, causing a lump to form in his throat. He’s barely able to say these words out loud without an audible whimper to them. He tries to speak again, but fails.

The Guardian leans forward over him and a shifting moment later he feels her tap her forehead against his. Her hands rest, half-covering his own, but exerting no force to push of pry his fingers away from his hood.

“Crow.” She whispers his name, just as soft and warm as before. Her lips ghost across his clenched hands when she spoke, sending goosebumps down his arms. Crow tenses.

It’s a full body reaction as Crow completely freezes up. Once more he tries to swallow down the lump in his throat with little success. His tongue feels dry and too heavy in his mouth. He can feel his heart rate spike, beating so hard now he’s unsure if the metaphorical ache that had been nesting there is becoming a real one.

“Please, Crow?” The Guardian pleads softly, leaning back and letting her hands slide from his face to over his chest.

“You can’t hide your handsome face forever.” She tries to make it sound light hearted, an easy joke, but the anxious tapping of her finger against his chest reveals her anxiety. Crow takes a deep, shaky inhale, holding it a second before letting it out.

“I-I can’t.” Crow sputters, the breath he had taken just before speaking seemed too little for all the things he wanted to say. Did she really just call his face handsome right now? Oh Traveler, why was that now all he could focus on??

He feels the Guardian shift in his lap again. The movement snaps Crow out of his thoughts and inadvertently he tightens his grip on his hood again. Somewhere behind his head, a seam in the hood gives way and the fabric tears from the stress.

A small chuckle near his ear catches him off guard and Crow isn’t able to stop his head from jerking sideways. This gives the Guardian an advantage and she presses against him, letting her head rest side by side to his. It keeps him unable to turn his face again. Even still, Crow maintains his hold over his ruined hood.

“Well then...” The Guardian pauses. Her voice, low and smooth, is right next to Crow’s ear. Crow flinches slightly, swallowing rapidly again, not expecting her to be so close.

“...how am I supposed to kiss you back?”

“Huuh??”

Crow lets out a confused sound, brain derailing instantly, but also cutting some of the tension out of his body. Certainly, he must have heard the Guardian wrong. But the sound of two ghosts  re-materializing interrupts the Guardian (who Crow is now very aware is straddling him) from speaking as she suddenly freezes.

“OH. Oh! Oh...well uh, w-we’ll come back later!! N-n-not too soon, ofcou—” Ghost’s shocked rambling is halted by metallic clinking as Glint’s shell collides with his. In the background, Glint’s hurried whispers of “Just go! Just go!” are just barely audible before the two Little Lights decompile once more.

Above him, the Guardian lets out a heavy breath once the two ghosts are gone. Beneath his hands, Crow breaks into a brief smile at that. The brief interruption had brought a measure of calm to him and he didn’t want to waste the moment.

“I, well...the man I was did something pretty horrible to you, didn’t I?” Crow lets the question hang in the air, but pushes on. If he lets the Guardian speak now, he’s not sure he’ll ever be able to say these words again.

“Not just you, to all the guardians...the Vanguard, and even the Eliksni, maybe even to the Scorn.” The Guardian is still above him, listening, but against his chest Crow can feel the heavy, measured beating of her heart.

“A-and I know. I just know. That that handcannon --the one with the white spade— I know that man died to that gun...This body remembers, but I also think it’s much more than that.” Crow stops to take a shuddering breath in. He focuses on the steady feeling of the Guardian’s heart against his chest to center himself.

“When I see that gun...it’s like I can feel that final shot burning again and again. But then there’s so much more to it. So much pain that isn’t from that bullet, so much grief, and fear, and even anger. Anger at myself, knowing I —all I did was —all I caused was…” He trails off, not able to find the words to describe how those moments felt. When he speaks again, it’s all in whispers.

“But when I see you, I know it’s not right, I know it’s selfish, I know you didn’t even like me at the beginning….but when I see you, I know I’ll be okay. Because the Light gave me a second chance to be okay and you did the same.”

Crow stops when he feels the Guardian shifting again. She grabs him by his elbows and slides off of his lap, tugging on him to join her in a sitting position. His knees are now tucked under his chin and he can feel her legs framing his own. It’s silent for a moment, but then he feels her edge closer to plant a chaste kiss to the back of his hands.

“It was an accident, a trick of the light and shadow…I—you are not like him in many, many ways.” For a moment Crow’s heart plummeted to his gut, wrenching at her first few words. Her hands cover his own again and Crow’s heart grows light.

“Please. Look at me.” The Guardian asks Crow while gently pressing against his knuckles. She rubs her thumbs over the side and backs of his hands, small soothing gestures.

Crow clenches his jaw, then decides against it. He releases his hold on his cloak’s hood, fingers stiff and aching from how tightly he had clung to the material. Crow doesn’t let the hood fall from his face and keeps his eyes shut. The Guardian takes his hands into her own, warming and massaging them to ease the stiffness.

Once she deems his hands warm enough, the Guardian lets them go. Crow rests them at his side, not confident yet to open his eyes. He focuses on the way the air moves instead, trying to anticipate her next move so he doesn’t jump.

Slowly, the Guardian moves the hood off of his head. She cups his face with one hand while the other strokes his cheek before tucking several stray strands of hair behind his ear. Throughout it all, Crow is still. However, his heart beats fast within his chest.

“Wha-“ Crow’s questions are cutoff before he could even start to ask —the Guardian smothering them beneath a passionate kiss. She teases his bottom lip with her teeth and in his surprise, Crow opens his eyes.

He’s immediately consumed by the Guardian’s smoldering eyes, half-open to catch his reaction. Crow’s not one to be outdone, and he raises a hand to cradle the back of her head as he presses into the kiss. He teases the Guardian back with a lick of his tongue, half expecting nothing, but pleasantly surprised when she returned in kind. It’s a sweet and warm moment and once again the Guardian feels that soft and fragile thing flutter in her chest.

“See,” the Guardian whispers against Crow’s lips as she caresses his face, maintaining steady eye contact, “all okay. You are you.”

Crow’s brows upturn at her words, feeling almost overwhelmed. Those words offered more solace to his heart than the kisses —kisses which he could hardly believe happened. He’ll have to make sure she was on the same page as him later, because any further and Crow would fall even more inextricably in love with the Guardian.

They lean into each other for some time, letting the comforting silence speak for them. Beside them, the fire pops as it fades off, nearly just embers now.

Crow’s the first to move, stretching behind himself to reach a spare log. He tosses it onto the middle of the fire. It doesn’t catch right away, but the Guardian flicks a bit of solar Light at it and soon the fire cackles warmly again.

Adjusting himself, Crow scoots closer to the Guardian so that they’re sitting shoulder to shoulder.

“Could you tell me—only if you want to—about…” Unsure of how to ask and knowing it’s taboo for guardians to learn details of their past, Crow trails off.

“I-I just want to listen...if that would help.”

The Guardian catches his hand at that and brings it to her lips. She plants a gentle kiss on his palm. Looking into Crow’s eyes, she slowly nods. He leans forward to give the Guardian a chaste peck on her lips. Crow adjusts how he’s sitting to embrace the Guardian from behind and she shifts to lean into him.

“No questions about details related to your past, alright? Only if you don’t understand something like time or place.”

Crow nods several times, suddenly feeling shy and too anxious to speak. He hugs the Guardian tightly before easing up to let her speak.

“Alright,” She sounds a bit tired now, the exact kind of weariness that only comes from raging against a deep grief and losing the battle, but accepting the scars and moving on. One foot in front of the other. “it’s a Golden Age saying that the road to Hell is paved with good intentions.”

“Let me tell you the story of how a beloved space cowboy, an enigmatic jailer, and a terribly misguided, but utterly-devoted-to-his-dead-sister brother collided into absolute tragedy.”

[amaryllisblackthorn]

theory/thoughts on maligula’s identity based on everything revealed so far (psychonauts 2 spoilers!!)

similarly to my other post, this basically involves an indepth look on things revealed in the peaks we’ve gotten into the game so spoilers especially if you don’t want to know what what may happen in the story beforehand based on close inspection of trailers and other stuff (including like, spotting concept art in the background of a video and such)

so based off of everything revealed about the game so far

lucrecia is almost definitely maligula. the only thing that’s an obstacle is the concept design of current lucrecia as a small old lady, but rn there’s so much indicating lucrecia’s maligula. there’s the imdb voice credit, there’s the fact that it’s the “psychic six” and not the psychic seven -- that lucrecia is the only one from the stumps at camp to be excluded from the stone tablet mural in hq while still having a depiction in the game on a stamp in ford’s mailroom mind level connected with the others which means she’s still relevant -- !!! 

basically: she’s excluded, and also relevant in the game, which means there’s a significance to her being excluded.

maligula is also described in the recent  Psychonauts 2 Developer Showcase as being one of the first enemies the Psychic Six fought. that certainly fits a former member-turned enemy, along with everything else. 

maligula is absolutely related to the galochios, which means lucrecia mux is related to the galachios.

my current tentative theory is that lucrecia/maligula is zalto galachio’s wife who lost herself to grief after her daughter died and. became murderous i guess. 

theoretically she could also have been a galachio who married out? but that’s why i said tentative theory.

the recent developer showcase stating that raz’s family history and the founding of the psychonauts being close/connected and the showing of the confrontation scene of maligula, helmut, and who i’ve been tentatively thinking is ford but could be someone else (like potentially lazarus or even  some random dude) being shown when tim schafer talks about how ‘the aquatos have been cursed by a mysterious figure to all die in water’ seems to further support this. in fact, it seems to suggest that maligula and not zalto was the one to curse the aquatos -- which honestly kind of reminds me of how they changed the second head of psychonauts from being Herndon to Hollis.

technically there could be another reason for the galachios to hate the aquatos and kill raz’s grandfather other than the death of augustus’ mother since the backstory from the lipo document isn’t technically canon and is liable to changes (like ford’s backstory + involvement with the psychonauts for instance) but i really hope they keep that  because i  really like the whole twisted aspect of the galachios (whether it be maligula, zalto, both) tormenting the descendents of their daughter out of projected blame and hate when it’s also their family too like. i really dig that so i hope that stays the same. 

maligula/lucrecia is also probably the reason helmut’s brain is separated from his body//that his location is ‘at the bottom of a frozen lake’ in grulovia -- where the aquatos were cursed to die in water -- on the letters in the mailroom level.

i’m sure there’s more to it and that im missing stuff but this is my tentative theory for now -- and i’m sure there are more  people who had similar thoughts. 

there is that concept design of current lucrecia as a small old lady that poses a possible threat -- maybe the lucrecia/maligula connection ends up being a redherring or something idk -- but maybe they ended up changing their minds during development or something. or maybe something else. idk. and that’s why i’m excited for the game haha

before i go i kind of wanna mention that before we really knew much about maligula and that she was a confirmed “mass murderer” i hoped it was gonna be marona/augustus’ mother than zalto would raise from the dead but she’d either turn on him bc he literally killed her and then her husband and did the opposite of  caring for her son so why wouldnt she??? or do something akin to Mary Rose by J.M. Barrie where she’s  kind of mindless/destructive with only focusing on finding her  son who is still a baby to her; also there’d be a level inside zalto’s mind where raz would eventually make him deal with his grief and the guilt he’s been projecting and not dealing with for killing his daughter. i’m kind of sad this isn’t the case --- although i know whatever it’s actually gonna be is gonna ne great !!!! dont get me wrong  -- but i still think this was a kind of neat idea so i wanted to write it down somewhere lol. basically i really want the marona’s descendants/galachio family connection existent and explored, which hopefully we’ll get no matter who maligula ends up being.

phew this was much longer than i intended it to be and kind of a mess but i kind of wanted to write my thoughts down before the game came out haha and the recent showcase kind of cemented some of my thoughts which stimulated me to do it

oh before i end i just remembered something i forgot that i thought about. i wonder why lucrecia's excluded from the mural tablet thing in HQ and from the "psychic six" but not from camp via the stumps?? interesting.

[lizacstuff]

Merhaba friends - SCK episode 35 asks

(Fragman 36 ask at the end)

Apologies to those of you who sent asks for last week’s episode and I didn’t answer them. The week got away from me and then suddenly it was show day, the episode aired, and the asks were no longer relevant. Even if I didn’t answer I appreciate you reaching out!

Anonymous said: I’m dying to know what you thought.

While my ego would like to think that there are a variety of subjects that people might seek out my thoughts on, I’m going to guess you want to know what I thought of episode 35. 

I had a mixed reaction. I liked a lot of things, loved a lot of things, there were some things I found disappointing, and a few characters I wanted to strangle. So let’s explore from that perspective. 

Liked:

Romcom feel was back. It felt lighter and was easier to watch than a lot of eps in this arc.

Aydan, Ayfer and Seyfi working together to unite the kids. They were actually funny and trying to do the right thing, even if their methods were a bit morally gray. 

Serkan and Eda’s photo on outdoor advertising and on the cover of magazines. We’ll ignore how quick the turnaround was to get those photos up, it was just plain fun to watch Serkan see himself on his drive into work and be embarrassed and aggravated by the whole thing, while there was also a little spark of excitement from him in being linked to Eda like that. That was enjoyable.

Melo is always the best bestie and Ayfer didn’t suck as an aunt!

LOVED:

Most every individual Edser scene. 

Serkan out-of-his head with worry, planning to jump into the frigid sea, even though he wouldn’t have any shot of saving her that way. That’s my ride-or-die, protective romantic robot! 

Serkan making faces as Eda plans her wedding. Excellent work from Kerem here. 

Eda buttoning up Serkan’s shirt. That was hot. It was also hot that he just let her. 

Sekan buttoning up Eda’s dress (get a room kids and start going the other way... unbuttoning, UNBUTTON) This scene was emotional and the sexual tension! 

Serkan clutching his chest. The poor boy was about to have a panic attack right there. Follow through, writers, give him the full fledged panic attack!  

The hair caught in the button (There’s that button again!) sequence. it was funny and sexy and made Selin into a foolish, immature third wheel. I’m all for it. 

Serkan apologizing to Eda for Selin, that was big because up til now he hasn’t really recognized how awful Selin is in most situations. He has blinders when it comes to her, mostly because he doesn’t pay attention, so it was satisfying to see him acknowledge her bad behavior.

EVERY MOMENT AT THE BOLAT HOUSE. That was a great sequence, and IMO we mostly have Hande and Kerem to thank for it and not the writers. They brought it to life and obviously a lot of it was on them to just figure out what to do in the scene.  I loved that Serkan saw Eda amongst the flowers in that painting. Swoon!  their conversation about how they were both hungry was hilarious. Every moment with them fixing the sandwiches was gold and then it just got better from there. With him being willing to share food, to the throwback “mesala” conversation to her listening to his heart. All so... so... good. 

However, while we definitely deserved those nice, long, funny, heartwarming scenes, I must say the writers didn’t use them to their fullest potential. How did the night end? How did they part? Why was no progress made after spending the night that way?  If the writers were even half decent at their job they would have had Serkan confess some feelings while high, but not remember in the morning thus giving us the parallel with episode 11 when he was sick. Eda would have felt defeated when he didn’t remember, again, and it would have made more sense why she thought the fake wedding was her last shot at getting through to him. 

Characters I’m mad at:

Ceren knows the whole episode that Deniz loves Eda, she knows he’s being weird about it, she makes up with Eda, and stills says nothing? WTF?

Engin makes it to the wedding, he knows Serkan has his memories back and he doesn’t stop the wedding to let Eda know before she says yes? WTF?

Ferit allegedly has the photos and he thinks the wedding is real, but he doesn’t show Eda the photos so she has a better idea of what she’s getting into? WTF?      (though through that whole Ferit/Selin scene I wondered if Ferit was just playing along with Selin, trying to get info out of her and he’s not really the one who has the photos. Time will tell. )

Selin/Deniz- Obvious, psychos, I need them freaking gone. How Deniz can claim to love Eda, but sit there and watch her look devastated and cry her eyes out at the thought of fake marrying him, while knowing he’s about to pull a disgusting trick is unfathomable. He needs to be committed.

Disappointing:

To be clear, I no longer care, but I can’t believe how badly they flubbed this storyline. That? That was the payoff for the hell we’ve been put through for 7 weeks? Wow talk about not worth it and anti-climactic. I’m not going to go on about all the ways they failed, but I could. 

While I fully believe that Serkan fell back in love with Eda before he got his memories back (see this post) he should have confessed to Eda before he got them back. That was the whole point of this entire storyline and they carried that the entire time, but then fumbled the ball at the 1 yard line. Good grief, these writers are bad. 

Serkan gets his memories back, he knows time is of the essence, and he still is torn and has to think about it? WHAT? Just no. Ridiculous. I realize they did it for maximum suspense, but they shouldn’t have. They really shouldn’t have.

That was their reunion after all we’ve been through? Come on, writers, step it up. I realize we no longer have the writers that gave us his love declaration in 11 or Eda’s and Serkan’s proposals, or their make up scene in 28 or their goodbye scene in 28, but this was lackluster. 

So, in summation, there was a lot that I really enjoyed, I thought the episode flowed better than some of the others in this arc, and lots of great individual Edser moments, it’s just the way they flubbed the whole storyline. I’m just so glad the amnesia is over, that thankfully I don't really care.

Anonymous said: when pushed by engin and aydan multiple times in the episode he never denies he ISN'T in love with her and rather skirts around the issue and deflects with "she's marrying deniz!" which should be proof enough he fell in love with her especially considering in 29 he was telling eda that "there was no such thing as love" between them. it was almost reminiscent of eda in 10/11 where she doesn't tell him her feelings bc she believes he wants selin, this time in reverse bc he believes she's moved on.

This came in response to this ask, and yes I agree. I should have hit that point harder, that Engin and Aydan ask him and he never denies it. When this arc started he would have denied it in a flat second. 

He fell in love with her again, full stop. It’s just a shame that they didn’t make it the entire crux of his love confession, we deserved to see that. Just one of the many ways the writers dropped the ball with this storyline. 

Anonymous said: The whiplash we got going from 26-28 to the drag of 29-35 though. 🤦🏼‍♀️ and you really could cut out that entire storyline and you wouldn’t be missing anything because really nothing happened. They didn’t even have Serkan stopping Eda before he got his memories back to fulfill a basic assumed foreshadowing. Like....huh?

I don’t want to be negative, but it’s crazy to me that they sped through wedding prep at a lightning pace and then went through this painful amnesia storyline at a snail’s pace. They should have had at least 5 episodes of wedding prep, doing just one pre-wedding activity per episode, but kept Babaanne around to create the drama. I wanted at least one episode of them back together, but keeping it secret so they could work against her. We were robbed of that!

Anonymous said: I know we’ve been hating a lot on the new writers but the showrunner still has to sign off on these scenes right? And it’s been the same one this whole time. What has she been thinking? Maybe the writers didn’t do their homework but surely she can tell that scenes being very out of character wouldn’t make sense?

Bold of you to assume there’s a showrunner as we know them on a Hollywood show. I assume you’re talking about Asena, but I always think of her more of a cross between an EP and a network exec. A bit more removed than a showrunner.  I have no idea who the guiding light of this show is since Ayse left. The production timelines are so tight, I don’t think there’s time to review scripts and reject them. Sometime I think it’s a wonder anything makes sense at all. 

Anonymous said: I see you've giffed some of the edser "questionable positions" bookshelf scene. (Awesome gifs btw). Honestly, that entire scene was really funny, with the rest of the art life crew jumping in. Even Selin made me laugh when she came in there and said "how did her hair get stuck?!" and Serkan very sarcastically replied with something like "I wound it up in there, what do you think??" Not to mention all the very close face talking that was going on!

Great scene! Here’s the gif set you’re referring to.  I suppose the writers proved they could do fun, and romantically comedic scenes if they want to. More like this, please. 

Anonymous said:

With these past 5 (?) episodes with these last set of writers, I truly believe that they did not go back to watch SCK at all before writing. Any past references were probably given to them on a checklist or something. Like I don't know if they even watched episode 28 with how they ended up doing away with the memory loss. Its kind of astounding how much they dropped the ball. Hopefully the rumors of new writers are true and they get enough episodes to give us a good ending to this story!

This came in right after the episode, but unfortunately, we learned today that we are apparently not getting new writers, at least not for episode 36.I was fully convinced we were since Sefkat (the production company twitter admin) liked Yasin’s post when he said we’d be getting all new writers for 36. Normally I don’t believe anything Yasin says because he has lied so many times that any info he actually has just comes across as a clock being right twice a day.  However, when she liked it, I found that convincing.  Also the way they cancelled shooting on Saturday and H/K were in for a meeting on Friday. Seemed like it was all adding up. We’ll see, maybe there will be new ones for 37??

As for not watching what came before, it certainly feels like they only skimmed and watched certain scenes and didn’t do a deep dive on the series. Watching all the eps in full should be a requirement before they start the job. I always feel they are  just off with Serkan’s characterization, they don’t quite get him and they turn him a bit into a cardboard cutout of early Serkan. It’s like the character sketch outline of Serkan, but with no depth. 

Anonymous said: When I saw the character description of the new cast member added to the show I was like "great, another possible screen space filler in regards to Aydan" but after watching the episode, I was actually really intrigued by his character. I know there's a bunch of theories out there that Serkan is actually his son, which I don't really buy into right now, but nevertheless he was a real potential to be a father figure in Serkan's life... and maybe the only guest character to not be a villain lol.

I’ll tell you this, that casting makes it seem like they at least want us to think he’s Serkan’s father.  He’s way better looking that Alptekin and he just looks like he could genetically be responsible for the magnificence that is Serkan. 

We’ll see what they do. I think it could be interesting, just because until Serkan met Eda he was so invested in being “Serkan Bolat” that having his identity shaken like this would be seismic for him. It could create some really good drama for him in all his relationships without tearing apart Edser. Also, if Alptekin knew it would go along way in explaining that relationship. Alptekin always demanding perfection and the cold way he sent him away to boarding school. It would explain why he could never earn his father’s love or approval, and that knowledge might give him some peace. 

In addition, and a big plus, it would mean that his biological father was NOT responsible for the deaths of Eda’s parents. 

Anonymous said: 1/ everyone for weeks was waxing poetic and had super detailed headcannons of how serkan would remember in really specific ways when he realized he was in love, something that ayfer kinda poked fun of at the beginning of the ep talking about the fake wedding, but i was genuinely laughing out loud at serkan and engin accidently getting into a fight and him yelling throughout it that he remembers and engin pushing him in front going "can you give him one good hit?!" lmaoo

2/ getting a good hit to the end to unscramble your brain that is already giving you flashbacks is more actually more realistic than the usual fairytale way.. sure, less romantic, but definitely more realistic. the man was already in love with her, super confused on what to do since he genuinely thought she was marrying deniz, and was already having flashes, all he really needed was good hit in the head lol. maybe eda should've kept going when they were boxing 😂

I like your take on it.

Anonymous said: i think they saw the fandom complaining week after week that there was too much heaviness/drama in their romcom and said "so you guys want romcom? here i'll give you full on romcom" which is what i thought this episode was! and i really appreciated such a fun ep overall to watch to bring this otherwise really sad and emotion heavy memory loss plot to an end.

Yes, the episode was a lot more fun than most that had come before it. If only they could have tied it all together. 

Anonymous said: Something that just occurred to me that's so crazy in addition to wrapping an episode days before it airs, is that in Turkish television, a series has like 1 permanent director and a small writing team that writes ALL of the episodes. In US TV, that's pretty much unheard of - different writers rotate owning each episode and the same director will shoot maybe 2-3 episodes at most a season. The production turnaround time is so short that it's insane that we don't hear of more last-minute delays

I know, I think about this all the time. It’s crazy to me that there’s only one director. Which is why there’s not a lot of added layers to this show.  When a director just has one episode on their plate and they spend a couple of weeks prepping to direct, every shot, every angle, every bit of set dressing can be meaningful. This show doesn’t have that kind of visual depth.  On the other hand you do get a director that knows the actors and crew inside and out and they all have a short hand which allows them to get to what they want faster and easier. That can’t be replicated with directors who come in for one episode. 

Anonymous said: Over the past month or so, I’ve been seeing so many people cancel Serkan and wanting Eda to leave him forever and move away, but she really never gave up on him and she might finally get him back this week 😭 in fact, Eda and Melo are the only people we’ve seen who have tried to help get his memories back! Everyone who has been friendly to Selin can disinvite themselves to the Edser wedding

I’m glad I didn’t see a bunch of this nonsense myself.  But, honestly, anyone who wants Eda to leave and not end up with Serkan... why are they watching this show to begin with? Did they take a wrong turn somewhere? How did they last this long watching it? We’re 35 episode in and this entire show is their love story, beyond that story and it being a vehicle to showcase Hande and Kerem’s awesome chemistry, it really doesn’t offer many other reasons to watch. 

And yes to jettisoning anyone who was friendly with Selin. PIRIL I’M LOOKING AT YOU. I sure hope Piril finds out exactly how low Selin will sink. She needs to feel ashamed for welcoming her back without question. 

Anonymous said: That fragman for ep 36...part of me wants to hope that it will all be solved pretty soon, since we got edser separated for so long we deserved them together now. But part of me also knows these writers suck so I’m expecting the worst. I just wanted edser together again 😭

I know. When I saw the full fragman my initial reaction was to yell “WHY CAN’T WE HAVE NICE THINGS!!!!!!!”  But I’ve calmed down now. 

It seems to me that we have Serkan and Eda together and working together to figure this mess out, which is good. we have romantic walks on the pier, and Eda spending the night at his place and a sweet breakfast setting with Eda in jammies. All good.  

But then we also have Selin and Deniz refusing to quit.  Selin comes up with the plan that if Deniz doesn’t sign the papers in time, then they will have to get a divorce which means Eda can’t marry for 300 days. So then, what? Deniz steals Serkan’s car and goes on the run? 

What they hope to accomplish with this, I don’t know. Because even if they succeed and Serkan and Eda can’t get married right away, it’s not like they’ll just magically decide that they want to be with those two psychos instead.  I can see Selin doing it just for revenge so she can make them miserable, but what’s Deniz’ motivation? The further psycho he goes, the worse Eda will think of him. Bizarre. 

As for the pregnancy thing. It sounds like Eda must hear that from someone. My money is on Deniz. That’s his Hail Mary to try and drive a wedge between Serkan and Eda. Because seemingly when Eda brings it up, Selin asks where did you hear that. Also, phew, Eda says right away that if its true that Sekan deserves to know, which hopefully will clear things up (because the writers showed us over and over and over again that they weren’t sleeping in the same bed) and it will show Serkan just what kind of crazy he’s dealing with. 

Anonymous said: I was pretty excited after watching the fragman, but surprised when I went on twitter and saw that almost everyone was really upset by it. I’m sure most people know Selin isn’t actually pregnant, but they all still somehow hate the storyline (possibly bc they think it’ll drive edser apart?) idk am I crazy for thinking that we’ll still get good edser moments and them staying together and fighting together? I guess the show needs drama to continue but I’m not mad because I think good edser will outweigh bad/miscommunication edser.

I’m sure we’ll get good Edser moments, but I can’t really fault anyone for being extremely annoyed by this fragman. I think this little plot point will end up not being a big deal at all, however, I can see how it feels like a kick in the face after what we’ve been through the last 7 episodes. It’s like can we get one happy episode? Just one?

Also it’s just very uncomfortable. I’m in the camp that currently thinks it’s impossible for her to be pregnant because they haven’t slept together. He was too fragile and injured before they came back to Istanbul (sleeping on the couch with his PTSD) and after he was too confused and consumed by Eda and just uninterested in Selin. I have to believe they kept showing us them not spending the night in the same place for a reason. 

However, if they were to have had sex, it’s very unsettling because it’s a little too close to him not being able to give consent. It’s Rape by Deception. He had a brain injury, amnesia, was suffering a myriad of traumas and was not in his right mind. He did not have the full set of facts on where their relationship stood, but she did (she knew he wanted nothing to do with her and told her he never loved her and didn’t even want to be friends) and instead of being honest she abused him. She lied to him. She didn’t tell him the truth about what had happened. She isolated him from anyone who could tell him the truth and manipulated him into thinking that she was the only person in the world he could trust and the person he loved and trusted most was untrustworthy and an enemy. 

However, as the audience we know the things she’d done in the past to abuse his trust, and we know for certain if he remembered, he would never consent to sleep with her. Never. So even beyond the cheating and the romance it would rob us of if they did have sex, it’s ICKY and GROSS and none of us want to even think of it.  I don’t expect TV writers in Turkey to be on the forefront of thought when it comes to issues of consent, so I’d rather this door just not be opened at all. 

But here we are, they opened it. Now all we can do it hope that it is a device to hear Serkan say that it isn’t impossible and for Selin to be fully exposed as completely unbalanced and a lying, manipulator.

Anonymous said: the fandom by use of sheer will forced this selin plot line into existence LOL. i swear since the beginning of the memory plot in 29, the "selin will lie to eda she's pregnant" rumor has been constantly making rounds, and i guess it's time to cash in. i will say that i've seen ppl thinking know that somehow serkan and her were intimate even though she's clearly lying.. guys, if there was even a POSSIBILITY she would've used this way back before now and would have told everyone, including serkan.

I agree with this. If this was a card she could play with Serkan, she’d play it. She’s been getting more and more desperate. And in the fragman there she is coming up with ways for Deniz to run away so he can’t sign the papers. If there was something she could hold over Serkan, she would, She’s not because then the con would be up, we’ll just have to wait and see how big of a lie she’s willing to tell. 

Anonymous said: I wonder if Selin was a spy when she was younger! That woman is always watching everything from her car! Even in the new trailer.

Ha! Let’s hope that in the end she’s not a very good spy and they finally get one over on her. Oh please oh please oh please let the stable boy be the one who has the photos and let him have more on her. I want there to be tons of photos of her in her car spying on them. That would be so humiliating for her. 

Seriously, though, who knows what happened to Selin to make her the way she is. Frankly, I don’t think my assessment of her has really changed (most of my old posts on her are tagged with “anti Selin”) She’s just a spoiled, selfish, entitled brat who thinks she should get anything and everything she wants. If she wants Serkan, she should have him, doesn’t matter what he wants or who she hurts, she’ll do whatever she has to do to make that happen. She was probably never told no as a child. So when she’s thwarted she thinks she’s entitled to whatever reaction she wants to have, if that’s ruining other people’s lives, so be it.  No one can be happy if she’s not. 

[dillydedalus]

january reading

why does january always feel like it’s 3 months long. anyway here’s what i read in january, feat. poison experts with ocd, ants in your brain, old bolsheviks getting purged, and mountweazels. 

city of lies, sam hawke (poison wars #1) this is a perfectly nice fantasy novel about jovan, who serves as essentially a secret guard against poisoning for his city state’s heir and is forced to step up when his uncle (also a secret poison guard) and the ruler are both killed by an unknown poison AND also the city is suddenly under a very creepy siege (are these events related? who knows!) this is all very fine & entertaining & there are some fun ideas, but also... the main character has ocd and SAME HAT SAME HAT. also like the idea of having a very important, secret and potentially fatal job that requires you to painstakingly test everything the ruler/heir is consuming WHILE HAVING OCD is like... such a deliciously sadistic concept. amazing. 3/5

my heart hemmed in, marie ndiaye (translated from french by jordan stump) a strange horror-ish tale in which two married teachers, bastions of upper-middle-class respectability and taste, suddenly find themselves utterly despised by everyone around them, escalating until the husband is seriously injured. through several very unexpected twists, it becomes clear that the couple’s own contempt for anyone not fitting into their world and especially nadia’s hostility and shame about her (implied to be northern african) ancestry is the reason for their pariah status. disturbing, surprising, FUCKED UP IF TRUE (looking back, i no longer really know what i mean by that). 4/5

xenogenesis trilogy (dawn/adulthood rites/imago), octavia e. butler octavia butler is incapable of writing anything uninteresting and while i don’t always completely vibe with her stuff, it’s always fascinating & thought-provoking. this series combines some of her favourite topics (genetic manipulation, alien/human reproduction, what is humanity) into a tale of an alien species, the oankali, saving some human survivors from the apocalypse and beginning a gene-trading project with them, integrating them into their reproductive system and creating mixed/’construct’ generations with traits from both species. and like, to me, this was uncomfortably into the biology = destiny thing & didn’t really question the oankali assertion that humans were genetically doomed to hierarchical behaviour & aggression (& also weirdly straight for a book about an alien species with 3 genders that engages in 5-partner-reproduction with humans), so that angle fell flat for me for the most part, altho i suppose i do agree that embracing change, even change that comes at a cost, is better than clinging to an unsustainable (& potentially destructive) purity. where i think the series is most interesting is in its exploration of consent and in how far consent is possible in extremely one-sided power dynamics (curiously, while the oankali condemn and seem to lack the human drive for hierarchy, they find it very easy to abuse their position of power & violate boundaries & never question the morality of this. in this, the first book, focusing on a human survivor first encountering the oankali and learning of their project, is the most interesting, as lilith as a human most explicitly struggles with her position - would her consent be meaningful? can she even consent when there is a kind of biochemical dependence between humans and their alien mates? the other two books, told from the perspectives of lilith’s constructed/mixed children, continue discussing themes of consent, autonomy and power dynamics, but i found them less interesting the further they moved from human perspectives. on the whole: 2.5/5

love & other thought experiments, sophie ward man, we love a pierre menard reference. anyway. this is a novel in stories, each based (loosely) on a thought experiment, about (loosely) a lesbian couple and their son arthur, illness and grief, parenthood, love, consciousness and perception, alternative universes, and having an ant in your brain. it is thoroughly delightful & clever, but goes for warmth and humanity (or ant-ity) over intellectual games (surprising given that it is all about thought experiments - but while they are a nice structuring device i don’t think they add all that much). i haven’t entirely worked out my feelings about the ending and it’s hard to discuss anyway given the twists and turns this takes, but it's a whole lot of fun. 4/5

a general theory of oblivion, josé eduardo agualusa (tr. from portuguese by daniel hahn) interesting little novel(la) set in angola during and after the struggle for independence, in which a portuguese woman, ludo, with extreme agoraphobia walls herself into her apartment to avoid the violence and chaos (but also just... bc she has agoraphobia) with a involving a bunch of much more active characters and how they are connected to her to various degrees. i didn’t like the sideplot quite as much as ludo’s isolation in her walled-in flat with her dog, catching pigeons on the balcony and writing on the walls. 3/5

cassandra at the wedding, dorothy baker phd student cassandra returns home attend (sabotage) her twin sister judith’s wedding to a young doctor whose name she refuses to remember, believing that her sister secretly wants out. cass is a mess, and as a shift to judith’s perspective reveals, definitely wrong about what judith wants and maybe a little delusional, but also a ridiculously compelling narrator, the brilliant but troubled contrast to judith’s safer conventionality. on the whole, cassandra’s narrative voice is the strongest feature of a book i otherwise found a bit slow & a bit heavy on the quirky family. fav line is when cass, post-character-development, plans to “take a quick look at [her] dumb thesis and see if it might lead to something less smooth and more revolting, or at least satisfying more than the requirements of the University”. 3/5

the office of historical corrections, danielle evans a very solid collection of realist short stories (+ the titular novella), mainly dealing with racism, (black) womanhood, relationships between women, and anticolonial/antiracist historiography. while i thought all the stories were well-done and none stood out as weak or an unnecessary inclusion, there also weren’t any that really stood out to me. 3/5

sonnenfinsternis, arthur koestler (english title: darkness at noon) (audio) you know what’s cool about this book? when i added it to my goodreads tbr in 2012, i would have had to read it in translation as the german original was lost during koestler’s escape from the nazis, but since then, the original has been rediscovered and republished. yet another proof that leaving books on your tbr for ages is a good thing actually. anyway. this is a story about the stalinist purges, told thru old bolshevik rubashov, who, after serving the Party loyally for years & doing his fair share of selling people out for the Party, is arrested for ~oppositional activities. in jail and during his interrogations, rubashov reflects on the course the Party has taken and his own part (and guilt) in that, and the way totalitarianism has eaten up and poisoned even the most commendable ideals the Party once held (and still holds?), the course of history and at what point the end no longer justifies the means. it’s brilliant, rubashov is brilliant and despicable, i’m very happy it was rediscovered. 5/5

heads of the colored people, nafissa thompson-spires another really solid short story collection, also focused on the experiences of black people in america (particularly the black upper-middle class), black womanhood and black relationships, altho with a somewhat more satirical tone than danielle evans’s collection. standouts for me were the story in letters between the mothers of the only black girls at a private school, a story about a family of fruitarians, and a story about a girl who fetishises her disabled boyfriend(s). 3.5/5

pedro páramo, juan rulfo (gernan transl. by dagmar ploetz) mexican classic about a rich and abusive landowner (the titular pedro paramo) and the ghost town he leaves behind - quite literally, as, when his son tries to find his father, the town is full of people, quite ready to talk shit about pedro, but they are all dead. it’s an interesting setting with occasionally vivid writing, but the skips in time and character were kind of confusing and i lost my place a lot. i’d be interested in reading rulfo’s other major work, el llano en llamas. 2.5/5

verse für zeitgenossen, mascha kaléko short collection of the poems kaléko, a jewish german poet, wrote while in exile in the united states in the 30-40s, as well as some poems written after the end of ww2. kaléko’s voice is witty, but at turns also melancholy or satirical. as expected i preferred the pieces that directly addressed the experience of exile (”sozusagen ein mailied” is one of my favourite exillyrik pieces). 3/5

the harpy, megan hunter yeah this was boooooooring. the cover is really cool & the premise sounded intriguing (women gets cheated on, makes deal with husband that she is allowed to hurt him three times in revenge, women is also obsessed with harpies: female revenge & female monsters is my jam) but it’s literally so dull & trying so hard to be deep. 1.5/5

the liar’s dictionary, eley williams this is such a delightful book, from the design (those marbled endpapers? yes) to the preface (all about what a dictionary is/could be), to the chapter headings (A-Z words, mostly relating to lies, dishonesty, etc in some way or another, containing at least one fictitious entry), to the dual plots (intern at new edition of a dictionary in contemporary england checking the incomplete old dictionary for mountweazels vs 1899 london with the guy putting the mountweazels in), to williams’s clear joy about words and playing with them. there were so many lines that made me think about how to translate them, which is always a fun exercise. 3.5/5

catherine the great & the small, olja knežević (tr. from montenegrin by ellen elias-bursać, paula gordon) coming-of-age-ish novel about katarina from montenegro, who grows up in  titograd/podgorica and belgrad in the 70s/80s, eventually moving to london as an adult. to be honest while there are some interesting aspects in how this portrays yugoslavia and conflicts between the different parts of yugoslavia, i mostly found this a pretty sloggy slog of misery without much to emotionally connect to, which is sad bc i was p excited for it :(. 2/5

the decameron project: 29 new stories from the pandemic, anthology a collection of short stories written during covid lockdown (and mostly about covid/lockdown in some way). they got a bunch of cool authors, including margaret atwood, edwidge danticat, rachel kushner ... it’s an interesting project and the stories are mostly pretty good, but there wasn’t one that really stood out to me as amazing. i also kinda wish more of the stories had diverged more from covid/lockdown thematically bc it got a lil repetitive tbh. 2/5

[gryfon-spanish-werewolf]

7. What story/headcanons do you feel the proudest of?

15. What is the fanfic you’ve written that you’re most proud of? 

16. What fanfic tropes do you avoid writing for?

17. What fanfic tropes do you gravitate to writing for? 

20. What feedback makes you the happiest to hear?

21. Is there an idea you’ve always wanted to write, but haven’t yet? 

36. What fanfic of yours has the symbolism you’re proudest of? 

39. What area of writing do you feel strongest in?

Fanfic Writer Asks

7) In terms of headcanons (which I wouldn’t say I make often) I think I’m most proud of how I unabashedly use magic in a lot of my stories. Elsa’s magic, Troll magic, Other-magic - if I think something is neat then I kind of just roll with it!

Elsa’s ice magic, in canon has a LOT of uses, but I like pushing the boundaries. Ice-GPS? Check. Icepack for that burn? Check (though who hasn’t xD). Troll magic used for time travel? Check. Troll magic used for Dream-traversal?? Check. Physical embodiment of a strong emotion via magic? Check. Physical, evil appearance of an emotion incarnate via ice magic and troll magic and the POWER OF LOVE? Where’s my BINGO sheet? Cuz check that too.

15) OOF wow, that’s a hard one. I hate to say it but it MIGHT be one that’s not published and is currently sitting on my GDrive >_>;; I’m really proud of my Frozen!StarWars crossover

But of the ones that are published? Either A Banisher’s Dilemma or Great Knight Annatorias, The Abysswalker. I got to be super nerdy and meta on the second one^^

16) I avoid writing smut, I’ve never really been game for it. I’m always amazed that other people can write it, but I never really want to. I also tend to avoid angst, especially if it’s for no other reason than JUST angst. It has it’s place, but I don’t like using it just to get a reaction. (Some of you are already pointing fingers at Spirit - I know I KNOW xD It was a one off, I swear!)

17) I immediately gravitate towards anything SOFT. I love slice of life, I love characters bonding with each other, I love when they have CONVERSATIONS, especially about hard things that they can work through together! I also love “Firsts’”! First meeting, first hug, first confession, first kiss, first hand-hold, first date, first anniversary, etc etc. I love confessions and conversations. On the flip side I really love established relationships? Whatever they are: familial, friends, romantic or marital. There’s something really nice about a a pair or a group already being together. I have no idea where that all fits under your standard trope lists, but those are mine!

20) I absolutely scream if anyone ever quotes my stuff back to me saying stuff like “I really liked this line/paragraph/part because...” and then says why. I lose my mind. I also love when people say “This made me feel X” because I’m just ever so curious about how writing affects people!

Edit bc I forgot: I’ve had one (1) person make me fan art once as “feedback” for a story and I was on cloud 9 for like, shit, a month?? I still think about that person. I legit hope they are living their best life.

21) I wouldn’t say I “always” wanted to write this since I’m WAY too impatient to wait on ideas most of the time BUT I have had this au sitting in my WIPs folder for nearly 6 YEARS and it’s about how the King and Queen of Arendelle are secretly part of a vampire hunting guild. They kill a vampire that snuck into the castle one night but not before it infects their daughter and heir to the throne, Elsa (who’s like, 6 or 8). Even though they’re oathbound to kill vampires, they can’t kill their daughter. The castle is closed similar to post-Accident Frozen 1.

Jumping to modern times, Anna is a history student exploring the mountains of Norway with her classmate, Hans, and a guide, Kristoff, and they are heading for the ruins of Arendelle castle for a research project. Rumors say that despite wars, invasions, thrill seekers, and treasure hunters, a lot of people that go into that foggy area of the fjord waters and forest end up lost and never found. The few that make it out tell tales of strange chills and the feeling of eyes at their backs. Locals know that the headstones of the last living Royals (who died at sea) are still tended to, though no one knows by whom. Anna gets separated from the group and encounters a sleeping Elsa in the castle before sundown. Afraid for the stranger’s safety (it’s winter, it’s cold, and it’s going to be night soon), Anna attempts to wake Elsa, to no avail. Realizing she’s sort of stuck herself, Anna builds a fire and awaits morning (and her own rescue), unknowing that in the last rays of sunlight her “companion” is about to wake. For the worse.

Unrelated to fanfic, I HAVE always wanted to write a story about a girl named Rain (as such for her birth during a terrible storm) that misfortune is heaped upon by the bucketful, so much so that everyone believes she’s cursed, except for her tutor. I want her name have a double meaning that she both slumps and shines under, since rain may bring destruction, but also growth and healing.

36) A Banisher’s Dilemma, hands down. I did SO MUCH RESEARCH for that fic AND I was in a Bible New Testament class at the same time, so I just SHOVED a whole bunch of Christian history, themes, imagery, and references in there. It’s not the only symbolism however, as I mixed plenty of other global and cultural references in there as well. Hard not to, since Anna is literally jet-setting to a new location nearly every chapter.

39) Surprising maybe no one: light humor! My writing is often funny, mostly because I like to make myself laugh :D If I’m not having fun, than what’s the point!? Most often it’s shown off in my one shots or short fiction, but even re-reading some of my longer chapter fics still has me laughing at the same jokes I wrote many years ago.

If not humor than portraying strong emotions. I’ve received too many (generous and loving <3) comments about how pinpoint accurate or visceral my portrayal of joy or sorrow, grief or fear, or love and happiness are to deny it. And that’s much less of a boast and more a humble acknowledgement of people who have written very thoughtful responses to my work, and it would be irresponsible to imply that their words over the years were false in any way.

Thanks for the ask! These are a lot of really good questions!

[stardust-and-blades]

Klance 21 please

*sticks leggy out* Of course

21. Things you said when we were on top of the world

Takes place two, maybe three years after season 8 bc ouch

“So, how is farming life treating you?”

“Alright,” Lance replied, swishing around the wine in his glass. “But I gotta say, Juniberries are hard to grow. I never knew Allura’s favorite flower would take so much steps to living.”

Keith chuckled, taking a bite of the Spanish rice on his plate, still dressed in his galran suit. He had returned from a mission that lasted six months, all of the retired paladins contacting him and demanding he visit. Lance, of course, was the most vocal, and invited everyone to dinner at his place with the help of his mama. They ate and told stories, asking questions about the other planets and Pidge mentioning their breakthrough in halfing the time it takes to travel from New Altea to the farthest planet known to man. They had already left, claiming they had some more work to do and that they will return the next day for a day out in the public. Though Keith could not help but notice Pidge and Hunk whispering to one another while Shiro shook his head. Lance and Keith had a lot of catching up to do, so they ate slower than the rest. But neither minded, Lance’s parents and siblings in bed to give them privacy. 

“Altea had people who knew the climate well, you’re going based off of instinct, so it’s natural for you to experience trial and error.”

“I know,” He groaned. “If only Allura was here, she would be able to help me.”

“She is. In spirit. She probably is still laughing at the time you slipped on the manure and face planted.”

“How rude! Allura would never laugh at the ruining of this beautiful face.” Lance acted as if he were flipping his hair back, eliciting a laugh from the stoic ex paladin.

“Whatever you say.” Keith placed his hands in the air, mocking surrender. 

“What about you? Miss combat and bored of peace?”

Keith shook his head, a small smile on his face. “No. I mean, I was good at it. But it’s nice to bond with my mom and the others. With the change in the Blade’s purpose, I see different faces compared to during the war.”

‘Hmm…Must be nice.” Lance commented, turning his head to the window to their right. His gaze, filled with mirth just before, somber. His bright blues dulled into a calm azure, his head leaning against one hand as his food is forgotten. “It has been, what, two years since the end of the war?”

“Yeah, about right.”

Keith expected Lance to continue; veer off into another subject like they had been doing before. But nothing came. Lance just stared at the stars, the white, twinkling faraway explosions reflecting back in his eyes. Lance hasn’t talked about Allura or space much since then, sticking to random topics. But now, for some reason Lance is bringing them up; vocally recounting the days of naive flying in Blue, their humorous training sequences, and the exploration of different planets. Lance used to be so bright eyed during those times, bursting with curiosity anf surprise despite missing his family. And while there were hard times, he was always smiling a huge grin.

Now, his smile is watered down. It isn’t quite sad, but neither is it gleeful. Keith wondered if them being on top of the world is really a victory, or if it is just a placeholder for his real feelings. For the fact that he is happy to know his home and other planets are no longer under the rule and threat of a tyrant, yet wishing for more in life. Something besides staying on Earth and farming, looking back on the boy who wanted to explore various galaxies rather than stay home for a mundane life. Lance is a lot of things, but he isn’t mundane. If anything he is bursting with raw energy. Once concealed by grief and heartbreak over the loss of his first love, cracks began to scatter across his morose aura. 

He won’t ever forget Allura. Will not forget her sacrifice and her wishes. 

But he also cannot forget the dreams he held so close to his heart, just as he did Allura. 

And Keith wondered if there is a chance he could change it. Maybe Lance will never love him the same way Keith loves him, but the least he could do is try and bring those dreams back. To awaken the spark that made Keith and Allura fall for the shining young man.

So Keith reached a hand out, hoping Lance would take it, hoping he would acknowledge the part of him clawing to be acknowledged. To be heard.

“Lance?”

“Hm?” 

“I…I have another mission coming up in two weeks. Delivering products and medical aid to a healing planet. It will probably take up to half a year to reach, since Pidge will be putting out their new technology. And the mission itself is believed to pan out for an additional year.”

Lance raised his eyebrows, confused. “Okay?”

Keith scratched at his neck, his nerves shaking him. He wasn’t professing his undying love, why is he nervous? 

Nonetheless, he forced himself to make eye contact.

“Would you like to join me? I know you have your farm to tend to, and you would miss your family a lot. But…um…” Okay, now he was losing his train of thought. What was he going to say? Where was his eloquence? Geez, if only Shiro were here. Maybe then he wouldn’t feel as if Lance’s gaze was going to burn him.“Um…I figured–you kind of look sad, so I figured–you like space–uh…shit,” his head bended down, feeling the heat rise to his cheeks. Shut up Keith. Just shut up and stop digging yourself into a deeper hole. “Nevermind, I don’t know why–”

“Keith.”

Keith perked his head up, swallowing as he feared meeting Lance’s eyes. But he is met with a kind gaze, a genuine smile blossoming on his lips. “Are you offering me a place in your elite ranks?” He joked, but Keith can hear his growing excitement.

“Uh…yes. Yeah I am. I mean, it really isn’t elite–”

He is interrupted by a hand covering his on the table, callous fingers touching soft flesh concealed by elastic.

“I would love to.”

He meant it.

Lance will always love Allura. But both knew he couldn’t linger in the past. And something tells both Lance and Keith that Allura would be proud.

She fought for them to be happy.

It is time Lance honored that.

send me a ship and number and I’ll write a mini fic!

[july-19th-club]

actually i’m not done talking abt true detective s1 i actually have a lot of thoughts about those last several minutes and how important it was that it ends on a relatively hopeful note. do we know where rust’s going? what the heck this man intends to do now that he’s confronted both his most unfinished work and his greatest source of grief? we don’t, but i think we can safely say that he’s not leaving just to go somewhere and die. in his own sour and half-resigned way, it seems like he’s intending to go get some stuff done in his life, to maybe for once make plans that don’t have anything to do with death and i’m going to put my thoughts on that under a cut bc i started writing and it just kind of got away from me and it’s more or less a whole piece of fiction now

he said something about being a painter if his life had gone differently, and i think maybe that’s what he pursues next. he’s in his fifties now, has spent more of his life as an addict than not, and i imagine that the road toward finding some kind of equilibrium is not simple. if he manages to quit drinking, i don’t think he ever manages to quit smoking. it’s a comfort thing for him, as much as he knows that it’ll be that or some other chemical damage that will get him in the end. he has a silent bet on with himself as to which one it will be, when it finally happens, but it hasn’t yet and so he gets what money he’s saved and goes on a road trip. 

it’s experiences he’s after now: he goes to appalachia, he goes to new york city, briefly, doesn’t really enjoy it, goes on toward the great lakes, goes further. he sees wyoming and the dakotas, the redwood forest region, the coast of maine. canada. it occurs to him that he’s spent his whole life on one side or the other of the contiguous states, never paid much attention to what’s in the middle. he explores. he accumulates memories, knowledge, tries to enjoy it and tries to move from one sight to the next quickly enough that the doubt and disinterest can’t creep back in. tries to appreciate things: the rain. the heat coming up from the asphalt when he stops for some lunch. the stretches where he doesn’t talk to another person for days on end. even tries to appreciate the feeling of being anonymous in a crowd, walking among many other people who are focused on anything but him, tries to see it as a natural part of the things that exist to make up the world and not a poorly-designed set for a badly-written story. and around him it continues to happen. the radio continues to play. the road continues to be long. the sky continues to be huge and filled with stars, and when whatever this is has finished Something may continue, and in it he may have the chance to love and be loved. 

maybe he calls his ex-wife, and maybe she immediately assumes that it’s a goodbye call, because it’s been close to twenty years since they last spoke and she has no illusions about the state of mind he was in at the time. she may be surprised he’s lasted this long, but she agrees to meet him. he shows up sunburnt and long-haired and craggy-looking, but with the same wry face she remembers. he shows her his driver’s license photo, in which he is still sporting a weird-old-man mustache, and she makes fun of it. he tells her everything. turns out, her life has gone in an entirely different direction. where he spiraled, she thrived. eventually she decided to become a foster parent, and perhaps she wound up adopting a girl who comes to live with her as a teenager. the girl is a woman now, and has found a nice girl of her own, and the two of them are considering children, when they’ve got the finances for it. the cycle continues. he is terrified of the concept as he would be of being dropped into a parallel world where none of the loss ever happened. there is no rhyme or reason, and he is still learning how to be optimistic about the certain knowledge that even if there is another world, there’s absolutely no plan. he’s afraid. but he is more afraid of being without family, and this knowledge is sudden but he is sure of it. he meets the adopted daughter and the daughter-in-law. the daughter’s a biochemist, daughter-in-law’s a philosophy major, and they all get on like a house on fire. he can talk with the girls for far longer than claire can about the sort of heady, probably pretentious topics they’re interested in. he moves on after a few visits, but he keeps all of their numbers close. 

he travels. he paints fallingwater. he paints the wallowa valley. watercolors - he likes them better than oils or acrylics, likes the way they soften whatever he uses them to illustrate. he paints whatever he gets interested in, sometimes stopping the truck on the verge of the highway to take out his colors and paint the chicory by the side of the road. he visits a museum to study other artists’ work, gets interested in frederic remington or somebody, goes to rodeos and paints the riders and the swirls of dust. he paints mt. mckinley from memory. he paints his own flashbacks, trying to show how the colors bleed into one another, how the images repeat and revolve. he goes back through texas and louisiana, stops in bars and orders iced tea and paints the bikers. he calls his family more frequently. he calls his one friend, asks to stay updated on people’s lives, acts interested in their affairs even when they call him on a bad day and he has to feign it. one day his families meet each other. he arranges it. they have dinner together and he gives everybody paintings and when marty asks if he’d be interested in consulting on a case or two, just when he’s able to, when he’s not busy or he’s bored, he says yes, he might consider it. he is planning to move closer to his own people, but if he does, he may need the money. he thinks of things in terms of time, now. how much of it may remain, if he is smart with it. how much of it he has already used up. there is a dark, miserable center to the thought that he is careful not to get to close to, because it will swallow up everything a man can build if he’s not paying attention.

when the daughter-in-law is pregnant, the girls ask around for name suggestions. they deliberate for nine months and then some, even after the baby is born and he, more afraid than ever, meets it and lets its small hand clutch his finger like it is the only life preserver in a swallowing sea. what can this tiny creature, just-created, with eyes that look around vaguely but don’t stop, know of doubt or fear or the lifelong drowning conviction that nothing exists for a good reason? all the baby knows is what it experiences, and so he holds it as kindly as he can. with luck, it will grow. it will be one, then two years old, it will learn words, it will begin to move around far faster than its parents can keep up, with luck or perhaps un-luck it will become five and then ten years old and develop convictions and interests and then maybe it will someday be as old as he is and it will still enjoy the world. he holds it with as much hope as he can. 

after a while, they do choose a name, one of his suggestions. miles. as in “to go, before i sleep”.  

[dungeonsanddragonsfifthedition]

what would you do to fix lost? (like any specifics bc i agree w where ur coming from)

ohhh boy this is by no means a complete list and it’s long as hell, but

also, like, before someone comes after me, this is coming from a place of love for the show. 

i’d scrap certain plots (that i won’t mention the specifics of on here in fear of losing friends) entirely

actually. i’ll spill. y’know. what the hell. i’d scrap 90% of the jacob plot. across the sea was a waste of an episode and a waste of my mother ms. janney. i liked the jacob plot as it stood in s3, but s5/s6 made it ridiculous imo.

y’all. let it be aliens. let it be ghosts. don’t let it be mark pelliwhatever and his sad goth moping. that’s boring.

i’d either keep walt around longer (which, considering that children have this terrible inconvenience called puberty, isn’t super plausible), or scrap his plot. taller ghost walt’s a good goof, but it’s not a good thing to keep looming around yr plot, never truly elaborated on.

just. a lot of s5 & s6 would be different. okay. god.

i have more to say on this i’m just so fucking tired

while i’m a big sci-fi/worldbuilding fan, lost’s strength was in its characters, which is something that the creative team, i guess, completely forgot about in those last few seasons, just because people were more vocal about wanting answers, so i feel like i’d personally focus more on one of my favorite (types of stories? tropes? themes? idk the word here lol), which is a character-driven story on a weirdass backdrop. again, my favorite lost b-plot is Make Sawyer Be Nice To People 2k04, or, like, fucking tricia tanaka is dead. tricia tanaka is dead and the constant both have this strength imo!

now, you might say, but bee, those episodes are completely tonally different and the constant is objectively art whereas ttid is a filler comedic episode, but, like. they succeed in that, despite being based around Weird Shit Going Down, they’re focused on, like, hurley, charlie, jin, and sawyer’s friendship, or desmond and penny’s love. they’re better episodes than, say, fucking lighthouse, because lighthouse is all about the mystery, and jack’s character development is in the background. which sucks.

speaking of jack’s character development, fuck jack. make him a more interesting character. fuck you.

the show’s handling of race issues is fucking terrible, especially when it comes to how it villainizes and eventually kills off michael, ana, and sayid. i’ve talked about this a lot on here but. yeah. but, yeah, remember when literally 3 main characters of color died in one scene, with, and some of y’all might argue with me here, very little emotional payoff? fuck that!

lost, admittedly, broke thru a lot of barriers re: representation on tv–sayid’s iraqi, he’s muslim, and, for the first few seasons, at least, he’s a good guy, a smart guy, who people trust! michael’s a sensitive artist who loves his son. hurley is a mentally ill fat latino man who is universally beloved! sun’s (usually) got her own agency, her own arc, and her own personality! and miles is perfect and can do no wrong and i would die for him.

but, still, their characterization often revolves around shitty, shitty stereotypes, and most characters of color are ultimately turned into antiheroes, or, in extreme cases, straight up villains.

and, oh boy, the fridged ladies. nadia. shannon. juliet. charlotte. libby. ana. god, y’all.

if yr gonna tell me “juliet wasn’t fridged she had 3 seasons of development and it created emotional stakes for s6!!!!” her arc wasn’t done and her death was written to make sawyer Sad Again. fuck that. 

just. it’s not that i wouldn’t kill off characters if i were writing for lost. because the cycle of life & death is a really interesting theme it explores, and it handles grief fairly well, but. maybe consider why you’re killing a character off. is it for the development of another character? try again! you can develop a character without destroying another! think harder!

and of course a main aspect of the plot is a Magic Disability Cure! as a disabled person, this trope pisses me off, but, whatever, whatever.

i’m not sure exactly how to resolve this issue, esp. bc the magic disability cure is so pivotal to john’s arc. ugh.

i would make the writing good because, like, a lot of it isn’t. but. y’know.

cut a BUNCH of romances, that, yeah, not naming names.

KEEP EKO ON LONGER I KNOW ADEWALE QUIT BUT. KEEP EKO ON FOR LONGER HE WAS MUCH MORE INTERESTING THAN FUCKING JACOB!!! GOD

uh, desmond’s a lesbian, so jot that down

btw: more development of penny/the widmores, like, i, unfortunately, became very invested in penny, as is my wont with sidelined wives of rough boyz who accidentally get time-sick in fiction.

this is more than just 2 characters. please save me. from this hell i’ve built for myself.

this is my own personal taste, but tbs wrecked has reminded me that i’d probably personally like lost more if it Had More Jokes, but, like, again, that’s just me.

Let My Gays Exist and let the only gay character not be a fucking villain who kidnaps children and shoots people with a gun. y’all.

there’s a lot more to say but. whatever. this isn’t coherent.

exposé is, no joke, one of my favorite episodes of lost though so none of you should take me seriously

[cescalr]

Not-Fic (TW, AU from the get-go)

Fair warning there will be stalia bc w/ me that is inevitable and there will be scira and there will be marrish so thanks and if you don’t want in on that action buh-bye

okay, first time writing not-fic, it’s 00:57 am, let’s GO-

So, Idea(TM). This is au form the get-go, btw, so fair warning.

 So. Let’s say, early on, like - really, early on, I’m talking before Stiles’ mom died and Malia’s family got into that car-crash, but after 2004 (hale fire, etc.) Stiles get’s bored, or something (maybe he hasn’t been diagnosed with aDHD yet, or maybe he has and he’s just bored, whatever works for you) and sneaks out of his window. Now, this is before theo, before scott - during the time I headcanon as his friends being Heather and Erica - but he doesn’t want to disturb them, see, because their lives are nice and idylic for the most part, so Stiles goes out into the woods alone.

Now, Beacon Hills is a small town, sure, but big enough for two school districts; heather goes to a different school to them later, after all, so we can assume she did as a kid, too. I’m going to say that Malia and Kylie also went to this school district too - Heather’s schoolmates who she’d maybe mention in passing, perhaps. Stiles might not know their names; Might think of Malia as Leah, maybe he can’t remember if it’s Kylie or Kyle – doesn’t matter, point is that he has a vague notion of who they are; the Tates – this family what lives on the other side of the preserve to him, in the preserve which is mostly unheard of besides the hales, and we all know what happened to them.

Puts a dampener on people thinking of living in those woods, that sort of thing.

Getting back on track; Stiles goes into the woods, goes for a walk.

Now, let’s go over to Malia. In this universe, the Tates went the way of the Whittemores and out-right told their daughter she was adopted (as you should) – she’s about the right age, so it works. And unlike the Whittemores, it works out – she doesn’t hate them, she loves them; they raised her, and that matters more in her eyes.

But that doesn’t mean she isn’t an adventurous child. Malia lives in the preserve – she probably takes walks around it all the time, knows where her father puts his traps and his bait and stays away, understands the safer parts and steers clear of the husk that was the Hale house.

So maybe, out of pure co-incidence, Malia had a shit day at school, or something, so she sneaks out the back door – Kylie’s asleep, her parents are out (on a date; does it matter?) and the Nanny’s pretty chill (some might say too chill), so she just waves sarcastically as Malia tiptoes out the door (sorry sorry bad late night puns) – and wanders off in a vague direction. Malia, by this point, could most likely find her way around the woods pretty well – if not able to find her way home, she might go to the landmarks; the stump, that old cellar, and if she has to the Hale house, to work her way back home that way.

So Malia’s in the forest, and so is Stiles.

Maybe, because although Stiles isn’t a stranger to the preserve at night he isn’t as at home as Malia, Stiles gets lost. And he wasn’t as prepared – doesn’t have a map, doesn’t have specific routes or know the whereabouts of the hale house, the cellar or the old stump are in relation to the town, so Stiles gets lost.

Malia likes her walks (or runs, jogs – any of that sort of thing, really) so she takes longer that night, in order to clear her head. Makes for the stump in an old, well-worn path her father takes her on sometimes, when he goes out hunting (she’s assured it’s legally), and gets there slower than she’d normally do so.

When Malia arrives, this kid is there too.

Stiles is sort-of just sitting there, fidgeting, thinking whelp because his dad’s not great due to his mom’s… state, and he doesn’t want to make it worse by having him think Stiles was – kidnapped, or something, so he just sort of panics.

Let’s say Malia’s approach is quiet. She doesn’t mean it to be, but in the woods something sings within her and it happens anyway - especially on nights like this one; bright full moons, high in the sky – so it is. And Stiles – young, not so trained – flails, a bit, yelps, maybe.

Malia tugs him to his feet, brushes him down and demands his name.

“Stiles.” He responds, bewildered. Malia’s a protective girl, see – she doesn’t know who this is, though he’s her age… but also he’s some kid lost in the woods, and she’s protective, so she wants to know what the hell he thought he was doing.

“Exploring.” He says. “Clearing my head.”

And she gets that.

Yes, for different reasons, but she still gets it. Stiles doesn’t want to go home yet – his dad is probably still at work and anyone paid to care for Stiles never really lasts long in that job; too loud, too restless, too much of a trouble-maker, not worth the effort or the money or the time, Stiles hears behind his dad’s sighs (and their angry little notes left behind, sometimes with the agreed money attached to it still) (which, although guiltily, Stiles sometimes takes) – so Malia and Stiles sit down on the stump, and they talk.

Let’s fast forward – because otherwise this is gonna be hella long and no to that, rest would be after the cut if I knew how to do those -

So, a few months or so down the line, and Stiles is on that hospital roof.

We all know what Claudia does, so we won’t dwell on the details, but suffice to say Stiles suppresses more than just that one incident.

And when he sees Malia next, she quizzes him, and when he answers she frowns – because the tone is different, the answers are altered – something’s missing but what? – but, but, Stiles seems lighter than he has in a while, even if he’s still down trodden from… all of this; his mother’s illness, and whatever else that entailed which he never told her before even he didn’t know any longer – so Malia waves off his question, and, troubled, things move along.

Theo, then Scott. Heather leaves, Erica leaves. Theo leaves – abruptly so.

Stiles is… angrier than anything else, about that last one. He’s resigned to Heather and Erica – initiated it himself, for the latter.

But he’s angry about the last one. Malia listens to him vent and agrees, and a month or so passes and the boy is all but forgotten.

(But not really.)

Stiles and Scott get along like a house on fire, and Malia’s really glad – really, except Stiles can’t visit the stump as often or at all, these days.

She doesn’t really let that stop her. Gets a bike - begs her mother for one, really – visits the two boys and this friend group is three, not two.

It’s still two at school, though.

Not much else changes, at first, really.

Claudia dies.

Things change drastically.

It’s less Malia visiting Stiles and more Stiles dragging his asthmatic friend halfway across the preserve to visit her. It’s less laughter and more solemn silence. It’s less bonding and more antagonising – Stiles is looking for a fight, appears to want one desperately because he’s just so angry at the world.

There are stages of grief. Stiles skipped denial – it’s not hard if you were there when the other person died, after all. Saw it happen with your own two eyes.

You can’t deny that.

But the anger doesn’t last either. Not long. Not at the world, anyway.

After that, it’s not really anger. He’s still on a hair trigger, of course – Jackson’s nose can attest to that (he’d tried to take Scott’s inhaler – again) – but he’s not really angry.

Now, Stiles comes to the stump alone, and lets himself cry on her shoulder.

Malia wants desperately to know how to help, but also knows what would be needed, and knows she doesn’t have that.

So she sits. You’d think stiles would cry like he does everything else, but not really. It’s silent, mostly – nearly always, and when it’s not it’s more loud, shaky breathing than anything like sobbing – and when he pulls back, wipes his eyes, there are tear tracks on her t-shirt.

“Sorry,” he says.

“You need to grieve.” She responds in kind – quiet; trying not to disturb the strange silence of the woods.

So things change. It takes a bit, but Scott’s eventually brought back.

Malia still doesn’t visit the Stilinski household, but they start going to Scott’s after a sharp scare with his asthma the last visit.

“We don’t have to.” Scott says. “I’m – I’m not incapable of moving, guys.”

“Humour me.” Stiles says drily.

“I know that,” Malia replies. “We know that. But that doesn’t mean we should have been – careless.”

Scott seems to consider them both equally, and nods.

It’s not brought up again.

Let’s fast-forward a little.

Malia finds out about the dubiously-Sheriff’s drinking.

“No, Malia.” Stiles says – firm, unyielding.

He’s got a vice-tight grip on her arm, and Malia’s trying to tug herself free.

“I just –“ She placates – or tries; voice to curt and upset-angry to be convincing – “I just want to talk to him, alright? Just have a few words, nothing bad, I promise.”

“Nope.” Stiles draws out. “You sound murderous Mal, not letting you near like that.”

Malia gives one last tug but Stiles isn’t budging so she deflates, sighs and says,

“Fine.”

The next week the sheriff’s job is finally put on the line. He starts getting sober, and Malia quietly fumes as Stiles seems glad.

(Should have been the son, not the job – that’s Malia’s thought process. Stiles is more worried about Noah’s liver.)

So. That’s all that dealt with, but what about the car crash?

As these sorts of things happen, it happens on a normal day.

Normal night, rather. It happened at night, if I remember correctly.

The day had been downright dull in it’s normality – Malia hadn’t yet seen Scott or Stiles, and the argument happening in the car was an old one.

Then It happens.

Malia doesn’t remember much, of course.

“I wish you were all dead.” Runs through her mind, and she runs.

Now – in the other world, a world where she didn’t appear to have any really close friends, or any friends who could in anyway relate, coyote!Malia went of into the woods for eight years.

In this – still too scared of her dad’s reaction – she doesn’t go home, but she goes somewhere else.

Malia hangs around three places. Four, in her visit to the car crash (whenever the flashing lights aren’t there – which only happened her first visit – a mere few human-hours since she’d seen it last).

It lasts for about three weeks.

The case goes cold – because of course it does – but Stiles convinces Scott to carry on looking.

And Malia – confused, unable to think in the way she used to – knows these people are Important; has flashes of too-bright images of darkened woods and light, airy homes (and one, memorable, quiet-dark time in the Stilinski home (how she’d found out about the drinking)) and thinks

Friends.

More importantly, she thinks – in so much as she can, as a coyote – about a boy who confessed some of his darkest guilts to her, and thinks -

Someone who knows.

Malia liked Scott as a human. As a coyote, he smells ill, like some fungus is creeping into him, stifling him.

Malia snarls at him until Stiles convinces Scott to back up enough so that she can’t smell him (Stiles says Scott might as well go home since it’s so far that Stiles can barely hear him) and then she stares at the boy in front.

In comparison to the images she knows, he’s grown. Not much – but Malia is suddenly, scarily aware of how much time has likely passed and how little she’d noticed.

“Hello?” Stiles questions. Curious; Malia hadn’t been sure if he would.

Maybe he can tell something’s up – Malia might’ve thought that if she’d been human.

He smells – Like guilt. Something else that she doesn’t recognise and raises her hackles; it changes something intrinsic to what she remembers, it’s sharp and manmade and wrong to her senses. He smells like someone she knew when Human, and that – that works.

She snarls when he makes to move, moves herself when he freezes.

The boy – Stiles – stares at her and his breath hitches, for a moment – Malia doesn’t know why, not really, but he must have seen something.

“What the hell am I getting into here?” Stiles asks himself rhetorically, raises his hands in a gesture she… can’t quite remember the meaning of but relaxes her slightly anyway, lowers himself into a crouch.

“Hello.” Stiles says. “Your eyes flash blue – quite literally. Did you know that?”

It takes a moment to register. Malia stops her movement forward, cocks her head at him.

Stiles nods, slowly. “They do, you know.”

Tentatively, he steps forward, one hand outstretched but - … unthreateningly.

“There you go.” Stiles mutters. “Please don’t bite my hand off. Nice coyote with weird magic-flashy-blue-brown eyes.”

Malia – somehow, not knowing she was capable in this form – manages a snort.

Stiles blinks. “Oh. Okay, uhm. That was funny? Right, sure. You – uh. You understand me?”

Malia steps forward, lets Stiles tap her lightly on the head with his hand, and lowers hers, slowly, then lifts it in an imitation of an action she remembers as human.

Stiles does the head thing to himself – up and down, the corners of his mouth pulling down in consideration.

“Right.” He mutters. “Strangely intelligent coyote with weird magic eyes. This is normal.”

Malia huffs and butts his hand with the top of her head.

Stiles blinks at her, frowns. Seems to peer closer than before, as if looking for something.

Something like recognition.

Stiles fidgets in consideration, seemingly working out how to phrase something.

“Say,” he starts, casually. His hand relaxes slightly, starts properly petting her head.

“You, uh, wouldn’t have seen a missing girl around my age, in these parts? Brown eyed, brown-haired, a tiny bit taller than me?”

Malia pulls her head back, paws backwards and barks sharply eyes wide.

Stiles jumps, slightly, but stills himself, looks at her askance and warily – looks and says, “I’ll take that as a yes.”

Malia barks out an agreement – a warning, too, but an agreement nonetheless – and steps backwards.

“Do you have any idea where she might have gone?”

Stiles is either brave or foolish, because if Malia had been a second away from biting him at the first question she’s even less so now.

But there’s something in this – Stiles, something in the eyes he has that makes her not do that.

Malia nods, slightly, eyes glaring bright blue.

Malia paws the ground, carefully, makes a shape in the leaf-litter on the forest floor.

Stiles looks at the arrow, at her, at her eyes and says.

“Well damn.”

So see, it’s like this; Stiles obviously has no fucking clue as to what’s going on. But he knows, can feel it in his bones, that this is his friend -this coyote is Malia, and he has no idea what to do about that or how to fix it.

Over the weeks following – Stiles is eleven, now, it took a year to find her after the authorities gave up – Stiles tries his absolute best to find out as much as he can from the internet.

This goes about as well as you’d expect; half the shit he finds is obviously fake, the other half all conflicts with each other and the only thing that he knows better now are the behaviours of coyotes.

And that’s more from personal experience with Malia than the internet, so Stiles gives up on that venture and sets on the task of finding this out pretty much on his own.

“So.” Stiles says, one day during this whole thing. “You’re a coyote. You really shouldn’t be a coyote – in fact, it should be impossible, but here we are so that’s a fact, and I just wanted to state that. You are a coyote.”

Malia flicks her tail with impatience and stares back at him flatly from her perch on the old stump.

Stiles huffs, drops down to lean against the stump. Malia rests her head on his shoulder and stares at the notebook he’s holding.

She can’t read a thing.

Malia huffs and moves backwards, growls at the offending object.

“Yeah, see, there’s another downside. You can’t easily communicate, you can’t read, your emotions are all out of whack, nothing’s good about all of this so that’s why we’re gonna fix it.” Stiles says, determined.

Malia barks with unease at the prospect, but in this universe, with the company – with the weeks, months of Stiles talking her through her guilt and his guilt and all of the guilt (really, there’s a lot of that going around) she’s not as adverse to the idea as she was in canon, perhaps.

Not accepting – she’s not really any better off – but not as adverse, so there’s a start.

“So, you’re a coyote.” Stiles restarts. “Hopefully just a shapeshifter of some form, or you might try and kill me on full moons? Which I’m not looking forwards to, by the way.”

Malia snarls.

“Yeah, see – my point exactly.” Stiles blinks at her. “That’s terrifying.”

Malia yips and bats his head with her tail, yips more as he splutters.

And this continues. Stiles still avoids visiting on full moons – which she’s fine with; those days she runs free in the woods and hunts.

Stiles isn’t exactly pleased with the animal carcasses she sometimes brings him (or leaves at his back door step, what the hell Malia) but she seems proud? So he quietly disposes of them when she’s none the wiser.

Eventually, Stiles browsing the library has it’s uses.

“Found it!” He exclaims triumphantly, bursting through the treeline surrounding the stump.

Malia barks at him – he was unexpected, she’d been sleeping, what the hell Stiles – and he drops down, to excited to be either scared and or repentant.

“Right, yeah, sorry –” Stiles says, distracted (and completely insincere but she’ll let that slide) “But I’ve found it.”

Malia glowered at him.

“Right.” Stiles paused. “Extrapolate, Stiles. Okay, so, turns out you’re a werecoyote?” He winces. “Though that was obvious, really. The uh, the blue eyes are from guilt.” He adds, quietly. “Over your family.”

Malia snarls at him, backs up because she doesn’t want a reminder, but settles down after that reaction, a litter further away, this time.

“Thought you should know.” Stiles says.

Malia, slowly, nods, and Stiles moves along.

“So. Yeah, that. Right, well – there’s a cure.” He looks up. “Not for the – werecoyote…ism? I mean, it’s not lycanthropy, because you aren’t a wolf… never mind,” Stiles shakes his head. “Not important. But there’s a cure for you being stuck like this.”

Malia yips… curious. She tip-toes forwards, cautious, settles down across from Stiles.

A kind of… permission, even if she can’t give it vocally.

“Alright, okay, you want to know.” Stiles says.

“You just need to find something that can bring you back. Or alternatively find an alpha to yell at you and force you back, but I don’t really think that would help? Your psyche probably wouldn’t like it, is all.”

Malia growls at the idea of being forced human, and Stiles nods.

“We’ll find something.” He says.

Malia… is inclined to believe him.

Now, this is why this is not fic; I have no actual clue on what would bring her back. I’m highly certain that they’d try her dad, but that it wouldn’t work – that it, for a while, would probably make things worse. So that ends up as a bust.

Let’s go with the idea that, well, they don’t manage to find something that makes her turn human.

But, after a few years, after more bonding and getting to know Scott and Stiles all over again… one day, Malia just... is. Human. Again.

She’s not over what happened – she’ll probably never be over it – but it’s different now.

There’s a kind of focus, in the back of her brain – who shot the bullets that left the casings? – and she can’t find that out as a coyote.

Whoever caused the car-crash caused what followed. Malia’s blame, while still mostly on herself, has, in part, transferred to them.

Stiles is the one to find her. She’s cold, and tired, and mostly confused, and after a quick “Malia?!” Stiles is giving her his jacket and his shirt – tied around her waist for privacy, jacket zipped for the same (also for warmth) – and sitting her up, brushing the hair out of her face and almost laughing – she can smell it, the relief, and then (it’s almost contagious) she’s laughing too, and it’s definitely hysterical but it’s real, and she can feel it, properly, and for now – besides the guilt and the fear and the anger that she feels simmering – that’s enough.

It takes some time for Malia to adjust. She’s not ready to go home or re-join everything – not yet, so Stiles accepts that, uses pocket money he saves to buy some cheap underwear for her (presented with a large helping of embarrassment covered with a false calmness belied by the reddening of his neck and, obviously, the thing in his scent that lets her know regardless) and sneaks her some of his and her old clothes to wear (she doesn’t ask how he got them out of her house, he doesn’t say) and eventually, when Scott starts getting suspicious, they tell him.

It's Scott, in the end, who convinces her to talk to her dad. Stiles was content with letting her choose her own pace, but Malia knows she was using that – using his relief at her being herself again – to stay as far away from her problems as possible.

And Stiles was, quietly, aiding and abetting this, because in the end he’s sure he’d have done the same in her place.

But Malia, with Scott and Stiles as support, goes home.

She’s not as behind as she would have been – and definitely not as behind as she should be, because Stiles has been lending her his notes from the past years, his textbooks he doesn’t use and some stuff bought second-hand he thinks she might like (alongside all the food) so she’s not even as far behind on pop-culture as she would have been.

It’s Stiles who convinces her not to tell her dad about the whole coyote thing. Since she’d been undecided before, and she was highly certain that he probably wouldn’t believe her even if he did tolerate it for a while, so she agreed, and she didn’t tell him.

There is no Eichen House in her immediate future, in this ‘verse.

They’re thirteen. And life goes on.

Malia, with the other two’s help, tries and tries and eventually, learns how to control this thing she has.

Stiles takes her aside, one day, tells her about anchors.

“Just – since we’re doing this, and all, full moons might actually be a problem? So all I’m saying is you need to find a way to anchor yourself to your human side. What little that book says on it is that it can be literally anything – like even a really nice goddamn rock that you found when you were like, two, or something, I don’t know – but the point is, it can be anything.”

This Malia – this Malia, who met Stiles but is younger, met Stiles but it’s a different Stiles, met Stiles but their situations are changed – doesn’t make it Stiles.

(I feel, in this verse, that there are three blatant options with vastly differing outcomes; her guilt, her revenge – on the person who shot the gun at the car – or her sister.

This Malia will not make it the first or the third option.

She’ll make it her revenge.)

(And it will work, for the most part. It will work enough.)

They’re fourteen, and Malia’s dad takes her aside, and (drunk) says – “I know who your father was related to, if you want to find him.”

“Alright.” Malia says. She does, actually, want to find him; because maybe he’s the reason she’s not exactly human.

“Tell me.”

(She doesn’t think to ask about her biological mother. Even if she had, he wouldn’t have known anything – but she doesn’t think to ask because she expects the father to know who the mother was.)

Stiles is more help at sussing out the timelines and all that jazz, at figuring out which Hale could be her dad.

“Well, there’s only one living, male, able-to-have-kids Hale left in the county. So he’s the only potential we could visit anyway.”

Malia frowns at Stiles. “Great.”

He shrugs, and says – “Wanna catch a ride with Melissa to the hospital?”

Scott’s mother is uncertain, tells Malia not to get her hopes up but drives them there regardless – and Stiles (knowing the way well, as he does) leads Malia easily to the long term care ward.

“Peter Hale.” Stiles announces. “You’re not gonna like this.” He sighs.

“I know what happened to him, Stiles.” Malia says. “But we have to check if he can respond before we forcibly take his blood to discretely take a dna matching test.”

(That Melissa will quietly perform. She can’t guarantee how well it’ll be done, but they didn’t exactly get the blood with permission.)

Stiles sighs. “Quieter, Mal.”

The two enter the room. It would be another few months before Peter’s wolf is able to move around, so the two are fresh out of luck in trying to talk to him.

They leave with no answers and a hidden syringe, they leave with more simmering frustration than they entered with.

So, the test comes back positive – she’s Peter’s biological daughter.

And that’s it. For a bit, that really is it. Things go pretty much as they did previously.

Up until that night. Up until Stiles hears about two joggers finding a body in the woods, and doesn’t end up dragging the friend who ‘wants to get a good night’s sleep’ (and is asthmatic).

He climbs up to Malia’s window, knocks on and says:

“Two joggers found a body in the woods.”

And thus – the first major change; Scott does not get bitten.

Another change – Stiles doesn’t own up to being there to his dad. Malia shifts, fully (because, in this universe let’s just say she can for the hell of it. This is fanfiction, after all – and if she could when she’s nine I have no doubt that she can at any other age) and tackles Stiles, then – carefully – drags him off in another direction.

“Ugh – ow – Mal, really – stop, god.”

Malia does, of course. She doesn’t shift back – her clothes are strewn somewhere she doesn’t know – and yips at him.

“Yeah, yeah.” Stiles huffs, checks his arm. “Thanks for not chewing through the jacket. Explaining that to dad would have been… fun.” Stiles adds.

Malia barks in understanding and then – tackles Stiles again, covers him as much as possible and whimpers when the deer run over them, stampede, but her bones heal what Stiles couldn’t easily so she’ll take that instead.

“Mal” Stiles barks – scared – pushes her off of him and checks her over.

“You really need to stop doing that.”

He huffs when he finds that – whatever was hurt – nothing is broken now.

Whatever Malia would say is interrupted by growling, by Stiles’ “Oh damn.” And her own instincts.

Whatever it was didn’t expect a coyote to launch itself at it, nor did it expect said coyote to be a werecoyote, and said coyote-girl to tackle him as much as is possible.

They tussle. The larger one relying on his strength and his burning anger, and Malia relying on speed and a clear head.

Whatever it is didn’t appear to expect Stiles to take advantage of it’s hyper-focus on Malia.

Stiles buries a stick – sharp and big enough to hurt – in the thing’s shoulder.

It howls, and this is the kind of thing Stiles had expected from werewolves – not his friendly, slightly broken (but no less – and likely more – than he is) fellow Beacon Hills resident.

Malia takes her chance, and clangs the not-wolf over the head with a big rock.

Multiple times.

Eventually, after more dodging and more stabbing (from Stiles) the thing falls unconscious.

Stiles grabs his phone from his pocket, fumbles for it, and snaps pictures as the thing transforms.

Malia quickly – before the transformation can finish – grabs a bunch of the leaf-litter and drops it over the now clearly a man’s groin.

“Oh, right.” Stiles nods. “Good idea.”

There’s a pause. Stiles flicks on the flashlight – so that he can see – but Malia’s silence is one of shock.

Shock doesn’t really silence Stiles, though.

“Oh. Shit, it’s Peter.”

That was kind of deadpan, for the moment. They glance at each other and let out a hysterical burst of laughter.

Malia’s not healing her cuts and bruises as quick as she normally would, and Stiles has human healing (for the most part) so the little nicks from scrabbling around in the dark and not quite dodging away in time are still there and still fresh.

There’s a little blood on all of them.

Malia sighs, and the silence is broken.

“I should –” Stiles says, aborted, then takes of his jacket and then his over-shirt. Holds them like he knows what he should do with them but isn’t a huge fan of the idea.

“He’s my… biological dad.” Malia lets out. “I’ll do it.”

Stiles gives her the shirt. She ties it around his waist, takes off her jumper and does the same but in reverse.

Stiles puts back on his jacket and turns back around at Malia’s “Done.”

“Right.” He says. “Now to get him somewhere – more secure.”

Malia remembers the cellar she used to use as a landmark. The one that was, now that she thinks about it, suspiciously close to the burnt-up hale house.

Malia puts this aside, picks up one of Peter’s arms and slings it around her shoulder.

“Little help?”

Between the two of them, they get peter there within the hour. It wasn’t not far from where they were, anyway.

Neither of them question what they find inside the cellar. They pick up the old, rusted chains and the old, rusted cuffs and lock Peter to the bars lining the back.

Malia never came in here, as a kid. She’s rather glad she didn’t, now.

(She’s still a kid, really – but not, truly. Not after what she’s been through.)

They kick back, for a bit. Chat about school, no matter how inane that is. Malia teases Stiles about Lydia (Something that seems less relevant to him these days than it did back when they first met – but she still does this), and Stiles teases her about ‘French Boys’ and they chat. Anything and everything is what they talk about – aside from the elephant in the room.

Or, rather – the terrifying, likely mentally unstable Alpha werewolf chained up in the corner, with as little room to move as what made them safe.

It takes a bit more time – Malia takes out a baseball from her pocket when Stiles really starts to fidget and they start tossing that around for a bit – but they hear a groan.

Stiles catches the ball and snaps his head towards Peter. Malia’s eyes are wary, but curious.

Peter’s eyes are blue, naturally. That’s the first thing that Malia properly notices about him – cataloguing the differences rather than the similarities.

It’s a groan of pain, they can tell – but his eyes are unseeing.

“I’m guessing the magic side of him is healed but the human side might very well be dead.” Stiles murmurs.

Malia thinks the same. Still, the two aren’t going to let that stop them.

They take it upon themselves to get Malia’s biological father’s human-self back to full health whilst making sure his wolf-self is sufficiently cowed and unable to go around attacking people in the woods at night.

Because that’s both rude and likely to get them all caught. It’s also evil and leads to death, which is their main point of contention with the whole thing.

The fact that, for all they know, he killed the girl in the woods.

So yes. That night, they make a pact and go home.

Malia is the one to take Peter food in the morning – they’d agreed – but Stiles shows up anyway.

“I don’t think you should go alone.” Is all he says about it, but Malia… agrees, in a way, so the two wander off, arrive an hour before school is due to start.

Peter is still chained up, but he’s sitting. A different position to what he was in last time.

This immediately makes them wary.

(Because of course it does.)

“Okay, maybe not as dead as I’d thought.” Stiles amends.

Malia nods, slowly, but approaches regardless.

“Hello.” She says – can’t help but flash back to when she was treated like this; like a cornered animal. That first meeting.

(She admits that is almost what she was, then. But also not really.)

Malia isn’t a huge fan of the parallel.

“I’m Malia. You don’t know me, or at least I doubt you do, but I’m your biological daughter. It wasn’t the best technically first meeting; you trying to kill me, but we’ll work past that and get you in a state where you can explain to me everything, alright?” She asks – knowing that there would be no answer, but having to do so regardless because… well, it makes her feel less like she’s talking to a corpse.

“Might have to force-feed him.” Stiles sighs. “I can, if you want. Mom…” He paused. “Well, I’ve told you before.”

Malia nods, quietly. Steps to the side but not back – ready to stop Peter from lunging for Stiles if he were to do so.

Stiles gets Peter to swallow the food, carefully, then gets him to swallow the drink.

“I think we might have to somehow get him on a tube or something.” Stiles says, concerned. “You can’t really make it all the way here from your school, and I won’t have time to do this and eat at lunch.”

Malia nods. “I’ll look into that.”

Stiles inclines his head.

The two go their separate ways, after making sure Peter was as secure as possible, and then disguising the entryway, over to the high-schools in their respective districts.

The first day goes… mainly the same. Stiles doesn’t tell Scott about what happened the previous night. Scott doesn’t hear Allison talking to her mother, but he pretty instantly crushes when he sees her.

He doesn’t give her a pen until she asks, and so that whole thing is slightly less creepy.

(Yeah, okay – I admit, that whole thing would have been a little creepy if I were either of them? Like, ‘how does this guy (whose pretty cute tbh) know I needed a pen??’ and ‘what the heck how did I hear her damn (she’s pretty) why am I being so creepy rn??’ so yeah, I actually found that whole scene both cute and creepy. Creepy-cute.)

(It’s weird. Movin’ on.)

So yes. Similar first day.

Similar; not the same. Duh.

Scott isn’t a werewolf. When he’s in goal, he’s still pretty shit (as he was perma-benched pre-show, it’s assumed he wasn’t actually any good at lacrosse – not the bits what require you to move a lot, nor the ones that require you to move little.) and doesn’t overhear Allison (who isn’t a jerk even slightly about skill at sports, unlike S1 Lyds) ask who he is, or whatever.

He’s also never played goalie? So I’m guessing he’d be bad at it regardless of skill at the rest of the game. Scott misses catching almost every shot.

He catches one or two out of sheer dumb luck.

He does manage not to take any in the face, though. There’s that.

He misses the one Jackson throws, and Lydia cheers for her boyfriend.

(One thing before we move on. That girl that appears in the first ep, talking to the two of them? I think her name is Sydney, but that’s what I’m gonna call her from now on btw, even if it isn’t, just as a heads-up. Anyway, I fucking bet that she’s prol’ly thinking something along the lines of ‘… right, Stilinski. ‘Beautiful people herd together’, never heard so shallowly accurate – I mean, look at Scotty and you and that girl you hang around with – I mean, objectively, you’re all fucking masterpieces.’)

After lacrosse practice, Scott goes to Deaton’s clinic for work, and Stiles heads off into the woods.

He meets Malia at the stump, and slowly they make their way to the cellar.

They’re lucky they went slowly (out of reluctance, perhaps) because they’re found – just as Derek came across Scott and Stiles, ‘trespassing’ on his property (which probably isn’t anymore? I don’t know property laws but that thing does not pass regulation) and Stiles doesn’t need to exposit info because we all know this shit.

“You’re Derek Hale.” Malia says. “My biological father’s your uncle; would that allow me to ‘trespass?’”

Stiles snorts. Malia’s always been blunt – as a child it was… well, because she was a child, and as a teen it’s because that’s the kind of person she is, really.

Blunt, and truthful. Harshly so.

Derek doesn’t seem to know what to say to that. Instead, he says;

“My uncle isn’t in the long-term care ward anymore. Why is that?”

“Well, that’s because he’s somewhere else.” Stiles says amicably.

Malia nods, serious. “The time I saw him last he was safe.” She said. “All cared for and shit.”

There’s a pause.

“You know where he is, don’t you?”

Hale is suddenly in front of them, and Malia is suddenly in front of Stiles.

Her eyes flash brilliant blue and so do Derek’s in response.

“Fucking hell, does it run in the family or what?” Stiles lets out, resigned.

Derek looks… surprised, for a moment.

Then, of course, his face closes off.

“That is none of your business.” He says, gruff. “Do you have any proof that Peter’s your father?”

“Yeah.” Malia says. “Look at me.”

Derek looks at her, sighs.

“Fine.”

Abruptly, he turns. “Come.” He commands. The two move to follow, but his arm snaps out and not-so-gently shoves Stiles backwards.

“Not you,” He says. “Just my relative. My kind.”

“Malia Tate. And this is Stiles, by the way, and he’s been far more helpful that you and ‘your kind’.”

Derek almost looks to almost snarl, but leaves it. Turns, and walks.

“Go.” Stiles breathes, right next to her ear – trying to keep it low enough so that Derek won’t hear.

“I’ll do the thing, yeah? Find out what he wants.”

And then Stiles is gone, Malia listens to him jog off and hopes he won’t get lost again (But they know the route well, after so long – she’d taught him in the years, about orientating yourself in these woods) for a moment, before following – what, her… cousin? Or something? Malia doesn’t begin to understand that system, so she shrugs goes with ‘biological cousin’ and leaves it at that.

After this – Scott is still at the vets, but he doesn’t need to check any wound so he hears Allison’s first knock.

Scott opens the door, and the interactions are for the most part exactly the same. Scott and the dog is a little different, but Scott’s good with animals – he’d have to be, as a vet-to-be – and coaxes it in and out of the rain.

The both of them are sopping wet and they laugh at that – have the same conversation as in the actual show, Scott still sort-of creeps on her changing her top, and that whole thing is pretty much exactly the same.

(it is now 4:43 am. I have taken breaks, but damn I’ve been at this for a while. Stillll going, though, glad I slept through most of the day rn so I’ll have the juice for this tbh. Speaking of juice…)

Next day is different. Scotty doesn’t wake up in the woods, in fact he wakes up at home and goes to school in his normal fashion.

It’s back over to Malia and Stiles for the changes. To makes this easier, let’s back-track to when Malia wandered off with Derek.

Derek takes her to the Hale house. Unfortunately for him, Malia’s spent a fair amount of time with the one and only Stiles Stilinski, so she’s learned to be able to talk circles around the actual answers people want without ever actually lying.

(It’s an art form, really. She hates lying on principle, so it’s a useful alternative when that sort of thing is necessary.)

(Malia doesn’t know Derek, doesn’t know what he wants. She doesn’t trust him not to do something stupid.)

She leaves Derek with no more answers and in a huff – him, not her – and sprints off to the tree stump.

Stiles is there, tossing around the baseball she left with him the previous night.

He chucks it to her and she catches it with a “thanks,” he nods and they get up and they leave.

(“How’d it go?” Stiles asks. “Well enough. He’s frustrated, knows we know but is unaware of Peter’s location.” Stiles nods. “And you?” Malia asks.

“Well enough.” Stiles returns, wryly. “Didn’t get bit, forced him some food and drink – a lot, really, but I think he needs the strength – and all that. Left after I was done, ‘cause there was no point sticking around.”

Malia nods, and that’s that.)

(Stiles didn’t lie; he left after he was done. He just left out the part where he talked at Peter for a bit. He wasn’t exactly nice, but it had to be said.)

Alright, so.

Seems anti-climactic, but that’s the first day from the first ep. Done. Let’s go to the second day in the first ep.

Back with Scott – he goes to school as he usually does (from his house) and doesn’t get called out (and harassed) by Jackson about his new-found lacrosse skills, because he has exactly none. Still.

Back with Stiles – he hears about the second half of the girl still being missing. But the fibre analysis on the first half (or the lower; take your pick) came back, and they found wolf hair.

When Malia reads the text she slams her head against the desk. Honestly, she’s very uncertain on how ‘her kind’ manage to stay hidden with shit like this.

And like the dent in her desk. Malia winces and places her folder over the dent, leans on it and smiles convincingly at the other students present.

Stiles asks Malia if they should tell Scott. Malia is uncertain he’d believe without a full demonstration, so they decide to wait until things are a little less hectic and he hasn’t gotten other stuff on his plate to do so.

Today is a Friday, and it’s a day that has a party, a party at which Scott has a date, and Stiles doesn’t really want to ruin that, so they let them (Scott and Alison) be.

The two go to the party, though, because it’s not invite-only, and also they might as well find something to celebrate.

They hang around the edges for a bit, Malia convinces Stiles to dance with her for a while, then they hang around the edges some more.

Stiles is the first to see Derek – Malia is the first to sense him.

“Where?” She asks – the crowd too thick and the scents too overwhelming – and Stiles nods to a corner where the man is spying through the fences.

“Right.” Malia huffs. “Let’s stop him from getting arrested, yeah?”

The two discretely wander over to the corner. Malia has since taught Stiles a modicum of subtlety, so this actually works, and they don’t draw attention.

“What do you want?” Malia hisses.

“As you can tell, we’re kind of busy.” Stiles says drily.

“It’s a full moon.” Derek’s voice is as flat as always.

“Duh.” Stiles rolls his eyes. “I have a lunar fucking calendar; we know.”

Derek narrows his eyes at Malia – blatantly blanking Stiles. “Can you control the shift?”

“Dude.” Stiles says. “Really?”

Malia glares flatly at Derek. “Yes.” She says, slowly. “I’ve had this for years, now, what the hell – why wouldn’t I have found this yet?”

“You can’t learn everything from a book.”

Derek snaps – almost… disgusted, Malia thinks, at the thought.

“We didn’t.” Stiles says. It’s flat – lacking the mirth he’s had throughout the conversation. “Though, to be fair, History of Lycanthropy was a good starting point. We were lucky my mom was into that stuff, though – to be fair.”

“I thought you found it at the library?” Malia said. “Yeah.” Stiles nodded. “I did. I found it at the library at the directions given to me from a few receipts in my mom’s stuff.”

Malia looked at him flatly.

“… Okay, so yeah, I left that out, so what.” Stiles muttered – rubbed the back of his neck; uncomfortable.

Malia huffed, let it go.

Derek looked – well, he had limited facial expressions so far as Malia could tell (though, to be fair, she hadn’t known him long) – so she didn’t really know what he looked, but he definitely wasn’t happy with being ignored.

“Oh.” Stiles said. “You’re still here. Right.”

Derek glowered in Stiles’ direction, and Stiles held his hands up and stepped backwards.

Malia’s eyes flashed in Derek’s direction.

“Just get out of here, cousin.”

Derek paused, looked at her as if trying to find the resemblance.

“Don’t rip anyone apart.” He says – maybe trying for dark humour, Malia has no idea – and then disappears into the night.

Malia quietly growls after him then huffs.

(“Punch?” Stiles offers.

“Gladly.” She says, and takes the drink.)

Things that DON’T Happen, and as a result…;

Scotty ain’t bitten, don’t rush out on Ally, she don’t get driven home by Der, who don’t take her jacket and hang it in the woods for Scotty, who doesn’t go to the woods bc he ain’t bit, so no big werewolf hunters reveal, that’s still (shhhuusssshhh) secret. Also thus no big ‘Ally A’s fam is kinda evil soz not sorry haha’ reveal (tho her dad ends up being like, aside from her, the only semi-chill one) so NO-One (except Derek but whenever in s1 was he ever forward and helpful and truthful he can’t do all at once too much broody-brooding for that)… on the good side… knows… dun Dun DUN.

(I mean, Pete also knows but lmao if you think he’d help normally, let alone in his state)

AND THAT’S A WRAP. For episode one and pre-canon, I think this is actually pretty neat??

Like I don’t think I botched too much shit up, guys. Sorry I didn’t go into much detail with Scotty, but I don’t think much about his pre-series life would have changed??? So yeah. Feel free to flesh out this AU with headcanons, I’m not done ‘til I’ve not-ficced the whole series.

It is 05:22 in the morning and I feel like I’ve accomplished something??? Lmao that’s probably because I need sleep.

‘Night, all.

[izzyizumi]

I JUST..... I JUST REALLY MISS MY OLD DIGIMON OC......

I don’t even know if anyone here would recognize her at all (other than maybe a certain Kari!) bUT..... well, this was actually my old Digimon OC, Hikaru! Many years back, I had one of those Digimon “FDD” (Fictional Digidestined & Digimon!) websites, and it was young me’s pride and joy, my first website that I made all on my own ;3;/ ;3;/ Complete with low quality graphics, comic sans ms, script based roleplays, and Digimon and anime midis galore! (A-ahaha.)

Although, back then I had pretty much zero ability when it came to actual art (I was always more of a writer, orz) and so her look ended up being basically “inspired” (read as: ripoff) of adult!Hikari but with a teenager look, and the story took a huuuge amount of “inspiration” (read as: tropes) from Sailor Moon too (also The Legend of Zelda), a-ahaha. OTL. Her Digimon (twin Digimon ala Wallace’s) were also obviously Chibimon/DemiVeemon recolors (DemiSilveemon and DemiGoldveemon, respectively. I didn’t even have to create an evolution for DemiGoldveemon because he’d basically become Goldveedramon, an actual Digimon!, while “Silveemon” became “Silveedramon”, a-ahaha. So original, I know.)

Regardless, they still have a very special place in my heart and I wish I had the energy to do a complete overhaul of her story nowadays (and actually finish it - I only ever managed to write through the second story arc out of like... eight-nine which was also to have a huge sprawling amount of story arcs after, which I had detailed in extremely lengthy “spoiler” summaries back then pffft - also, it was all to eventually tie into a story arc covering the epilogue and extending the story of that.) Unfortunately, my drive to do so has kind of dried up o-orz...

B-But now that I’m much older, I’m kinda sorta thinking about redesigning her at the least?? I’m super into Japanese fashion now (!!) and would really love to give her a redesign with like.... a very pretty classic styled one-piece, long A-line dress with a petticoat, maybe in a dusty pink color, with cute ruffles and embroidery, white sleeve cuffs?? and probably either neckties and/or (detachable, for look variety!) long sleeves. MAYBE SHE’D EVEN HAVE HER OWN HUGE WARDROBE OF VARIOUS ADORABLE DRESSES ALA CARDCAPTOR SAKURA/CLAMP it’s a nice thought anyway to at least redesign her main outfit in mind, even if I can’t create art for it, aha...!! ;3;/ (ALSO would change her hair color so it’d be less like Hikari’s [which was intended at the time for story purposes/tropes/etc.], though it was still a slightly darker brown - it’d probably be a bit more wavier/curlier too, and something like an even darker brown [deep brown?? nOT JUST BC OF MY OWN HAIR A-AHA....] (possibly also with bits of red through it!!)... at the time she was also created with no set eye color aside from (a darker) blue in mind; maaaybe she could have something like hazel eyes now? which could probably make up for that with the “color changing” hA ALSO SHE WAS MIXED/MULTIRACIAL/MULTIETHNIC ASIAN/JAPANESE-AMERICAN [+OTHERS] SO THERE WAS THAT YEAH!!)

Her Crest was actually the Crest of Faith, since I figured Jou’s Japanese crest’s name could also translate to “Honesty” (maybe even remain “Reliability” still, idek, which I thought was still perfect for Jou) and ‘Faith’ as a trait just held a very personal meaning to young me at the time ;3;/ (Basically never giving up, believing in yourself, etc.!! SHOUNEN/SHOUJO MOTIVATION) Though the image here didn’t quite portray the crest as I would have liked, I did want the imagery to involve a stylized crescent moon symbol and a star (probably now with it hanging outside of the moon somewhere though, not inside....), and the color to be dark pink (which would have also been the color of her D3) [it also had gold and silver buttons because of the two Digimon]. It’d be nice to try and re-design that too somehow ;3;/

All of the art here (sans #4, edited by young me a-aha) was made by request, and I’m to this day, forever grateful to the artists: Skye G. (#1 and the adorable emote!), Kari Avalon (#2), Tiara/Chiara (#3), Alana D. (#5-6), and Jennifer M. (#7)!! If any of you somehow happen to read this, thank you so much again (and for putting up with young me, o-orz)!! (I hope you’re all doing well today too....!!) ;A;/

Anyhow, a lot more rambling under the cut!

So yes, her story did lift a HUGE amount of “inspiration”/tropes from Sailor Moon, complete with the typical “Digimon Princess” theme and everything o-OTL. HOWEVER the more lengthier, sprawling story also had story arcs and tropes I still would have loved to explore in more detail - the 02 kids each had their own story arc where they’d receive their own personalized Crest traits (Iori’s was Wisdom, I can’t quite remember Miyako’s atm orz but she had one too [EDIT: MIYAKO was Loyalty, Iori’s was Wisdom!! Loyalty would fit Iori too maybe though aha?]; and of course, Daisuke got Miracles!) and their Digimon would all get to evolve into their own evolutionary lines.

The Adventure Chosen would eventually have their own arcs too; involving “Negative Crests”, evil clones, and actually the main villain of the entire fic was Alphamon - who wasn’t even featured in the main canon materials much at the time! (SO YOU CAN IMAGINE HOW MUCH I FLIPPED OUT WHEN HE WAS REVEALED AS THE MAIN VILLAIN FOR TRI, A-AHAHAH) Aaaanyway that arc would have dealt with each kid encountering their evil clone, being attacked by them/fighting them against the real kids’ wills, learning about them and their backstories, and the real kids’ Digimon would all finally evolve to Mega/Ultimate forms; the clones would have then been defeated after their corrupted virus type Digimon were destroyed, and after the clone children and their crests no longer being corrupted; them all dying peacefully to rejoin their Digimon in the Digital World afterlife. ;A; (.....I STILL GET LOTS OF FEELINGS THINKING ABOUT THE STORIES I HAD PLANNED FOR THEM ALL, SOMETIMES, I ADMIT, ESPECIALLY MY FAV KOUSHIRO’S BECAUSE LIKE. /NO MY HEART/ ALSO, THE DIGIMON WERE ALL TO BE ESPECIALLY AMAZING, ESPECIALLY TENTOMON + HIS CLONE BECAUSE LIKE. YES. NO??? HUMONGOUS CORRUPTED VIRUS TYPE ARMORED GIANT BUG PROTECTING CORRUPTED TINY CHILD AND ALL. Also, if you saw my previous post on Koushiro AUs (AKA: MOSTLY SUFFERING), the AU idea there about “Koushiro fully losing his curiosity” would have been detailed in that storyline, too [just in the place of the clone Koushiro, with the real Koushiro trying to help/save him.... but alas.......] ;3;/) (also the clone Koushiro may have not understood his own feelings and that he was hopelessly in love with the clone Taichi who didn’t know this at all until he found out at the very end; and who also died; yeah there was lots of drama/angst to be had)

As for the “Negative Crests”, basically, each Chosen would have had to fight against the darkness attempting to corrupt them and the Crests they had “lost” (which they’d then “regain”), with each cloned Chosen having the Negative Crests, like so: Taichi -> Fear Yamato -> Loneliness Sora -> Hate Koushiro -> Ignorance Mimi -> Lies (Impurity??) Jou -> Betrayal Takeru -> Despair Hikari -> Darkness [/that feeling when I actually finished Hikari’s arc along w/a Ken + Daisuke miniarc cries] (THE CLONE/DARK!JOU WAS ALSO V. EPIC AND BASICALLY BETRAYED ALPHAMON BY FINDING OUT ALPHAMON’S PLANS AND DESTROYING HIMSELF BEFORE ALPHAMON COULD FULLY CORRUPT HIM AND WIN, DARK!JOU AND ALSO JOU HIMSELF WERE SO EPIC, YOU GO JOUs !!!)

Also, being a kid at the time, of course I paired my OC with my other favorite character, of course (.....DAISUKE AHAHAHA) though young me was also very into slashfic and also not-so-subtlely hinted at underlying Tai//shiro storylines as well as not-to-be (orz) Ken//suke (mainly from Ken’s side; it’d then lead to the Ken//yako kids). All of it would have tied into the post-02 epilogue that basically explained “how the heck did all this happen and what do they and the epilogue kids do next??” AAAAND YEAH. (EVEN YOUNG ME LOVED TAI//SHIRO AND KEN//SUKE / DAI//KEN TO DEATH, OK, OK, YOUNG ME KNEW WHAT WAS UP)

Soooo I’m sure you can imagine how I feel now watching AND (MOSTLY) ENJOYING Tri and seeing other new interesting character(s) (Meiko!!) instead, ahahaha. ...Though now I’m also missing my old OC(s) and reflecting on all these old storylines I had (AMONG OTHERS), WHY THIS...... ;A;/ Ah well, it’s still nice to reminisce....!

(BY THE WAY, YOUNG ME ALSO NEVER SAID SO AT THE TIME, BUT THIS OC [AND COINCIDENTALLY ALSO DAISUKE] WAS DEFINITELY HEADCANONED TO BE SOMETHING LIKE BI/PAN/DEMI??...!! Hikaru as a character would have felt to her personally, purely looks or physical attraction was secondary - she would have probably believed in soulmates; developing a very strong emotional bond only with a person who loved and accepted her for who she was, and who she was the same for them. For my character, at the time, that was Daisuke...! H-Hahaha, though - she was also to have a backstory involving another (boy) OC she loved dearly, one who had disappeared (or: died/taken by the digital world) and she had to move on from (nOT.... HELPED BY ONE OF HER OWN DIGIMON DYING PERMANENTLY [the gold one], I’M STILL SUPER SAD I HAD TO KILL HIM OFF BUT IT WAS NECESSARY FOR THE STORY it was also a huge part of her character development and flaws including how she reacted to death/grief and would basically withdraw heavily into herself ALA KOUSHIRO AT HIS WORST.....); she would have then learnt to move on and found her personal true happiness & also her true love. So, at the time, that was Daisuke (despite the major Ken//suke undertones because it was [very] sadly not to be in that fic, o-orz - also Daisuke was a huge underdog/underappreciated within the fandom at the time (and also within OC fic which was near exclusively dub based), who was constantly bashing him for the dumbest of reasons jUST. WHY WAS FANDOM LIKE THAT-)

-- but back to Hikaru now, NOW....?? idek, maybe she’d find someone different and Daisuke would end up together with Ken?! WHOOOO KNOOOOOWS (MAYBE EVEN POLYSHIPS, THAT’D DEFINITELY WORK TOO, YES)

(ADDING A BIT MORE ABOUT HER PERSONALITY!!:) -quite mature as well as modest -secretly a huge computer geek that would also be very experienced at coding. This, of course, made Koushiro something like a senpai to her, and they’d often excitedly discuss computers/coding (along with Ken chiming in at times) while the rest of the Chosen would blank stare (hhhhhA) -despite this however she’d definitely not be on Koushiro nor Ken’s levels but she’d be on course to fast improvement with their guidance!! (also keep in mind this fic was originally written when I was a very young kid when girls who coded were acknowledged even less o-orz) -(ALSO SECRETLY A VERY ENTHUSIASTIC GAMER) (eventually, she’d come to hang out with Daisuke [+Taichi, Koushiro and Ken when they visited] to play games!) (the outcomes would often be: defeat Daisuke [repeatedly], defeat or draw with Taichi [to his dismay as well], be beaten by Koushiro and Ken [to which she’d vow to challenge herself to become better!]) -typically very optimistic/positive, kind/friendly, warm, welcoming, helpful, respectful etc., unlikely to have a mean bone in her body and basically extremely loving and supportive towards everyone -this would often put her at odds, however, with more competitive people or ruder people who weren’t as warm or welcoming; though she’d accept that being the case, she’d often be troubled that she did “something wrong” -speaking of being respectful, though she also wasn’t near Koushiro (or Iori) levels of “-san” respectfulness, she did use proper honorifics for everyone and often hesitated to change honorifics, even when prompted. (The older Chosen were a mix of “-san” [Yamato, Sora, Mimi until Mimi demands the use of “-chan” as per typical] and “-senpai” [Koushiro, Jou, and even Taichi, to his bemusement] mainly due to her having been intimidated to be new at the start, which is.... qUITE A LOT LIKE MEIKO’S NOW THAT I THINK ABOUT IT...) -despite her typical personality though she would stand up for herself and her friends as needed, especially in the face of evil/darkness -though very friendly, much more of an introvert than an actual extrovert; she’d rather stay inside unless invited out by the others (who would often have to insist she join them) -had some initial regrets about moving from America, even though things were harder for her there (where it was even harder for her to fit in) and it was necessary for her parents’ jobs, it was still her original home, so she holds her childhood close. -becomes chosen to be a Chosen Child due to her initial involvement with Digimon involving the OC who was “taken” by the Digital World (though she wouldn’t learn this was the reason or understand how/why it happened until later) -her story arc would essentially revolve around her learning to pick herself back up after grief and helping to save everything

(ALSO A BIT MORE ABOUT THE DIGIMON): -DemiSilveemon/Silveemon was more like Hikaru herself; though with a more eternally optimistic/supportive personality; though also somewhat more naive and silly, also with a short temper when something (DemiGoldveemon) irritated her. But when things would get tough, she’d always know the right thing to do \o/ -DemiGoldveemon/Goldveemon was much more extroverted / hyper / exciteable and super energetic/even more supportive!! ...though he was also the troublemaker, often getting into mischief and causing headaches for Hikaru and DemiSilveemon. However, when he’d have to put playing aside and defend his friends, he’d become extremely cool and awesome...!! ;A;/ (Later on, he’d also reappear briefly in spirit form to remind Hikaru and Silveemon to not give up \o/)

ALSO:

(TAI//SHIRO WOULD ALSO DEF. HAPPEN SECOND TIME AROUND NOT SORRY) (SHE’D BE ONE OF THEIR #1 SUPPORTERS TOO ALONG WITH EVERY OTHER CHOSEN AND THE PARENTS OK? OK!!!) \o/

SO THERE YOU HAVE IT MY VERY SHAMEFUL DIGIMON FANDOM HISTORY AND OC HISTORY, NOW I WILL EXCUSE MYSELF TO HIDE UNDER A ROCK !!!!!

[speckledspout]

Hey sweetheart I hope you're having a nice day! What do you think of AUs when the boys were separated at birth? Like, John being unable to deal with Mary's death with Sammy around so he dumps him in an orphanage. Later they get together totally unaware of being brothers, and then Dee introducing him as his boyfriend and suddenly Bobby and/or John if he's still around, turns so unsupportive bc they put two plus two together and the boys mistaking it for homophobia until they drag a demon home (1)

(2) who reveals that they’re siblings and angst unfolds. It’s a roleplay we’ve been writing with a friend for months, and I thought I’d share it with you, see if you’d like it (I also am honestly in love with your blog, I have no words it’s just so soft and beautiful and perfect and it’s A+++ quality content of the brothers shfkskj)

i absolutely LOVE those kinds of au’s (not just because it allows me to explore other storylines that wouldn’t necessarily fit with them knowing that they are brothers if you get what i mean. anyway…) i adore this au so fucking much.

so like, when i think about this, i think that it was a neighbor or maybe a grief counselor who suggested that john give up sam. john didn’t want to but sam was a painful memory of what mary no longer was and maybe the grief counselor suggested that john wouldn’t have to cut off all contact with the small child but it would be easier for him. he already had one son to raise and well there was no way that dean was going to leave willingly.

john gives sam up with a heavy heart (and like maybe after he does that, he goes completely off the walls and drinks until his liver damn near gives out and it’s bobby who has to pick him up and john tells him what he did) and he wants it to be a closed adoption. he doesn’t want sam to contact him years down the road.

bobby hates the idea though. he thought that sam and dean should be together, stay together and he never really forgave john for what he did, wiping sam from both his and dean’s life but bobby kept tabs on sam, watched him grow up, made sure that he was alright.

john and dean still hunt monsters though and maybe the yellow-eyed demon seeks out sam because he still has that demon blood in him and john ends up dying on that hunt. along with the people that adopted sam.

so now it’s just sam and dean and sam, he doesn’t know what to do. seeing your parents get killed by something that should only exist in fairytales isn’t something that you get over easily. and well, then there’s the matter of dean.

dean’s lost. completely. he’s never be alone, without john for nearly his whole life and all of the sudden he’s just gone and dean’s not sure how he’s supposed to carry on like nothing ever happened. sure there are other hunts out there but he doesn’t think that he can go do them by himself.

that both boys left there to pick up the pieces of each other and try to piece each other back together. dean hates it, but sam wants to learn how to hunt monsters and well, dean’s greedy for someone to be with him so he starts to train sam. and then that would solve the problem of dean not having anyone by his side because sam doesn't seem to be leaving his anytime soon.

a relationship starts to bloom between the two of them and finally dean thinks that he should introduce sam to bobby.

bobby almost can’t believe his eyes. the boy that he’s watched grow up from the shadows is leaning into dean, his arm wrapped around his waist and dean’s introducing him as his boyfriend. it makes bobby sick because they’re brothers...

except they don’t know that.

bobby tries to reason with dean, tell him that there is no room for a relationship in the life of a hunter and dean doesn’t believe bobby for a second. it’s not like he’s trying to pretend that he doesn’t hunt, that he’s going to hunt monster on the weekdays and then come home to sam on the weekends and sam being this wonderful little domestic husband. that’s not what he wants. sam is going to be a hunter and they are going to have each other’s back and the fact that bobby tries to separate them, that draws a stake between dean and bobby.

bobby desperately wants to tell dean everything. needs to tell him everything but just one look at the two boys, the way that dean’s eyes light up when he looks at sam, the happiness, the joy, that’s something that you don’t see often so bobby lets dean go thinking that bobby doesn’t approve of the same sex relationship and that’s the end of that.

except when they actually do track down the yellow-eyed demon and he brings everything out into the light, that sam and dean are actually brothers and well... yeah there’s angst and there’s awkward moments of the brothers trying to still hunt together while trying to forget everything that happened between the two of them but that never really does work out, does it? nope. so they finally just say fuck it, it might not be right for us to love each other like we do but it’s not like we actually care.

and yeah.