#something like the wolf of the west could only exist with them

[spectrum-color]

Hot RotE take: Fitz going straight back to Molly once Burrich died would not have happened if he hadn’t partially Forged himself.

Molly was Fitz’s first love, and I believe that Kettle was right that their relationship belonged to his youth. They were never going to work long term. It was a fundamentally childish romance primarily based on physical attraction; they were generally either having sex or fighting which is age appropriate for teenagers but not the foundation for a life partnership. He used her to hide from himself and the parts of his life that he didn’t want to acknowledge. Molly was a symbol of simplicity for him, one that I think he had outgrown by the end of Fools Fate. More than that, I think he would have gotten over it if he hadn’t put all of his pain over her marrying Burrich into Girl on a Dragon. By getting rid of those feelings, he made it impossible to process them in a healthy way, so when he gets them back suddenly it’s 17 years later and Molly is a widow approaching middle age with 7 children but he still thinks of her exactly the same way he did when they last saw each other. Add on Beloved leaving him just after he got over his fears of accepting the intensity of their bond and was ready to reciprocate love with no limits (the most traumatic possible thing that could happen to someone with attachment issues like Fitz,) and he’s regressing to who he was when he was a traumatized 20 year old. So while obviously his time as Holder Badgerlock isn’t necessarily bad, it makes me sad because it was so clearly a regression for his character.

[whispereons]

Oracle!Reader 1k Special

Masterlist - Part 1 of Main Series

Warning! This is imposter SAGAU yandere Genshin so expect blood and gore in this chapter.

Sunlight streams down as the birds caw and the faint smell of dew bothers your nose. Keeping your eyes closed you try to ignore it as you curl deeper into your spot. The blades of grass- 

…Grass?

Your eyes snap open as you sit up frantically. Towering trees and scattered rocks greet your panicked eyes as you stand up quickly. How the hell did you get here?!

A headache begins to form as memories of the night before come to mind. You vaguely recall exiting Genshin Impact after healing at the Anemo Statue of the Seven and walking in Wolvedom. The title screen came up before the doors of Celestia opened and… 

That’s it, nothing else could be recalled beyond that.

Looking around you take a step back for a wider view of the area when something is felt below you. Removing your foot and bending down you pick up the slightly trampled bag and examine it.

Nothing seemed wrong with it so there wasn’t any harm in taking it right? It was basically spotless if you ignore the dirty footprint so maybe it came with you? God you had no fucking clue.

With a sigh you sling it on and examine your surroundings a little closer. Something large and blue caught your eyes and you move a little closer to be sure of what you see.

Your breath catches in your throat at the sight of the familiar structure, something you were sure wouldn’t exist on Earth. Emitting a soft blue and hovering in the air was a teleport waypoint. 

This must be a dream, a lucid one considering how aware you are. To dream about Genshin out of all the media you’ve consumed is amazing luck. It doesn’t take much thought for you to remember where in Mondstadt this waypoint is.

Lush green grass with sparse shrubs and fallen trees farther away reminds you of the west side. There’s a faint cry of hilichurls even farther to your right is only a little bit worrisome.

There was the weapon domain near there that you recall being the biggest bullshit in history. At least until Dendro was officially released. But either way it basically confirmed that you were near Wolvendom.

And that was pretty close to Dawn Winery where you could travel the short easy path to Mondstadt City. Traveling across Wolvendom would be no problem since it was just a dream.

Turning your heel, you began your trek to the Anemo statue. 

Was there a chance that you could run into a wolf? Yeah but as long as you don't get close to Andrius, wasn't that a weird thought, you should be fine.

The lack of pain in your bruised foot and perfectly intact knuckles didn't even cross your mind. The idea of exploring this dream while you could filled your mind like a pleasant haze.

Finches hopped on ledges before flying off as you climbed up. It's not that high due to Mondstadt's easy terrain, it would be much harder if you dreamt of Liyue. Sumeru would have been your personal hell. But it's easy enough to hop down to the darker area of woods. 

Trunks lay on the ground with deep scratch marks clear. The high stone slopes that you dared not climb had similar marks to a larger degree. 

That was the telltale sign of Andrius lair being nearby. With a cautious glance to the right where the claw marks led, you continued going straight. A beckoning blue beam shined in that direction affirming your choice. 

Bushes decorated your path with berries, a rich purple color that caught your eye. Halting for a moment you crouch before it and reach out.

A rubbery small berry was rolled between your fingers as you carefully avoided the spikes. The Wolfhook berry that you farmed often in this area was a small joy you had at seeing it in your eyes. 

Without much thought you began to pick multiple Wolfhooks from the bush and drop them into your bag. You stood back up after picking the bush clean and continued walking.

Since going straight to the Archon statue didn't have a path you had to climb through the bushes. Leaves batted your face and you were sure a few were stuck in your hair too.

Not to mention the grass and dirt stains you had gained throughout the hike. Even still, you couldn't stop the beaming smile on your face. 

Reality was good and all but you would welcome any form of escapism that you could. To dream of Genshin and becoming a ‘protagonist’ of sorts is the most common form of it.

Well you weren't hoping to defeat dragons, fight hordes of enemies or be the nonverbal emotional support hero for every nation to lug their problems on. That would be no better than reality.

In the midst of your thoughts you mindlessly popped the first Wolfhook berry you picked into your mouth. 

Thinking back to the Archon quests you aren't the type of person to just accept bullshit easily. Like the way Ayaka just plainly guilt tripped and played on the travelers sense of justice was just- sweet?

The taste of sweet fruitiness is followed by a bitter aftertaste. In confusion you stop chewing and lick your lips. Hesitantly you swallow the berry and the sensation of something very real sliding down your throat has you taking a sharp breath.

It's real. Everything was real. The leftover bitter juice of the berry clinging to your teeth. Rough bark of the tree that you're leaning on in a whirlwind of emotions. 

Even the wolves glaring at you just a couple of feet away are real!

.

.

.

Fuck

Tensing up at the sight of those predators you subtly pat your body. Other than the bag you had no means of defense. Running wasn't an option either, that would simply goad them into chasing you.

Taking a deep breath you keep your body on high alert and eyes on the pack. Visibly there are six but who knows how many are hiding in the shadows?

It would be best to assess how hostile the wolves in front of you are before worrying about any unconfirmed danger. With that thought in mind you stare at the largest wolf that hasn't let its eyes stray from you.

No barring of teeth or pulled back ears. Good starting signs but those could change instantly. It didn't seem happy with your intrusion judging by its restless behavior and thumping of its tail.

The smaller wolves, probably females, didn't seem on guard either. That was the best sign as it meant no pups were around. You would be totally dead if that were the case.

With the chance of being mauled to death lower than you initially thought, you began to take small steps backwards. Whether you were heading in the direction of the Anemo statue or not didn't matter that much anymore.

It's ear twitched at your movements but it made no move to get up. Feeling the slightest bit relieved at that, you shuffle backwards a bit faster.

“Ugh! I fucking hate Mondstadt! Stupid useless hills and these god awful pollen make me sick!”

Freezing at the female voice and the wolf standing up in alert, you cringe at the sight of a purple figure stumbling out of the bushes. 

Right between you and the wolf. Maybe you should be happy that if it attacks it'll kill this idiot first.

Before you can bolt away and leave this, probably capable, woman to deal with the mess she stands up sighing in annoyance. 

Dusty green hair, a dark mask, and a recognizable bat-like hood made this situation 10x worse. A Cicin Mage just had to intercept the moment you tried to get away.

…Maybe if you run fast enough the wolves and the Cicin Mage could just keep each other busy.

“Oh, oh my Celestia! This-This isn't a dream right?!” The moment she faces you, she falls to her knees. Hands clasp she looks up at you, the mask she wears can't obscure the smile.

“The fuck?” The words slip out of automatically from the sheer bizarreness of the situation. She doesn't even seem to realize the pack of wolves behind her.

“Almighty Creator, I beg of you to forgive me for my insolent words just now. The foul words I spouted should never have irritated your ears.”

Did she literally not hear you curse just moments ago? Actually fuck that, what's more important is how she referred to you.

“Why are you calling me ‘Almighty Creator’ and would you get off the floor?” There's a pause as her smile falters before she stands up.

Was it cool to have an annoying early game enemy kneeling at your feet? Yeah. 

Did you want any passerby to misunderstand the situation as you being a Harbinger? Hell no.

“As you wish, your grace. But allow me to ask, is this some sort of test? A testimony to my faith in you?”

Clearly you had two options. Either lie and act the part of the Creator. Or deny it and risk the chance of her attacking you.

Things were still too vague for you to make a decision. Time to stall for time and information.

“I'm not here to answer your questions. Whatever I plan to do is up to me alone. So either answer my questions or scram.”

She's quiet and you want to curse the mask she wears. But you still catch the way her lips twitch downwards before she's smiling wide and bright.

“How silly of you, your grace. Playing dumb and tricking me like this is quite cruel. Don't worry I have something to match your type of jokes.”

Warning bells go off in your head as she takes steps closer towards you. Maybe it was the near mocking tone she used, or the belittling words but the malicious smile she wore was the most off-putting.

You needed to leave.

Taking a step back, your heel turns to sprint away but it was futile. Delusions wielding wild unpredictable elements would always overpower the weak and limited bodies of mortal capacity.

Her lamp glows in time with her teleport to your front. Her gloved one's grasp yours as a Cicin is summoned to her hand. 

Trying to yank your hands away only earns a painful jolt of electricity to flow through your hands. Gritting your teeth you resist any shameful urges to show your pain. Using this moment she basically slaps the Cicin into your hands.

Predictably the electro infused bat creature bites your palm forcing you to wretch your body away from the mage.

Holding your now bleeding palm, you bite your lip and cover the wound with your other hand. “Why the fuck did you do that?! I know Cicin Mages aren't the sanest people but for the love of-” Bright scarlett drops roll from your palm and splat onto the grass. 

The air seems to shift as her fingers twitch in place. As if hypnotized by your blood she continues to stare at it staining the grass. “Fuck this…” With that last mumble you turn around more than ready to ditch this situation when electro crackles behind you.

Any lingering hesitance was immediately killed and you bolted away from the area. Maniacal laughter follows you as the electro in the air surrounds you like a fog. She was right on your heel, you could sense it.

“Did you think you were slick? Pretending to be our god when you are nothing more than a human? Not even one with elemental powers, what a pitiful existence~”

She teleports in front of you with a lantern in hand that glows as Cicins are summoned to surround her. It’s more than enough time for your fist to connect with her face. Even if your raw strength wasn’t enough, the momentum you had from running gave you whatever strength was needed.

“Fuck off!” The yell is accompanied by her cry of pain as something inevitably gives away under your fist. She staggers backwards and glares at you angrily with tears escaping her mask.

“You rotten imposter! How could anyone, let alone I of all people believe you to be the Creator?!” The Cicins leave her side to chase after you as she twirls in place. 

Wolvedom’s environment of hulking trunks, shady areas and raised tree roots were cool in-game but in real life it was nothing more than a pain in the ass. The city is where you felt the most comfortable traversing but you did relatively well in dodging most of the terrain.

Didn’t stop the slight jolts of electro hitting you as the electro cicins were hot on your heels. All you could focus on was the steadily closer beam of blue of the Anemo statue. You would be near Dawn Winery where Diluc, who loathed the Fatui, could deal with this damn Cicin Mage.

But let’s be real, you should have known your luck would run out.

And that’s exactly what happened when you failed to vault over a tree root in time. Curling and rolling on the landing you avoided any severe injuries but the Cicins were too close to not take advantage of the opportunity.

Some continued to shoot electro at you from afar while most took to biting and tearing at your body. Limbs against the agile small bats were useless to swat them away with. It only got you more bites to suffer from.

Humming is heard getting clearer and it only serves to panic your already frazzled mind. With limbs becoming tingly and numb from the electricity, your hands grope the grass around you for something, anything-

Cool metal is felt and your fingers wrap around what you can and swing in a large arc. The long metal weapon works just as intended and flings a good chunk of them away. When your arc ends you can see a few bats stuck on the spikey end of the metal club that twitch and bleed. As if on cue, all the Cicins cower before fleeing.

The Cicin Mage skips over with her lantern glowing and crackling, her lips are pulled into a scowl as she yells at the retreating Cicins. “Get back here! The mist grass hasn’t been completely used up yet! How are you all already leaving?!”

Panting, you try to see past the blood in your vision to gauge how close she is to you. Quickly you use your arm to rub the blood off your face and by the time you pull it off, the mage is already beginning to float.

“You REALLY know how to work me up!” Crazed laughter erupts from her as the lantern glows one last time before shattering in her hands. It’s the catalyst for the electro shield to surround her and a strange symbol above her to begin shooting electricity.

Try as you may, your twitching muscles are slow from the Cicins attacks leaving you slow to get off the ground. She’s just about in reach, you can basically see your death about to play out.

In a flash a gray blur pounces on the Cicin Mage, it’s not hard to make out the pointed ears and furry coat. More wolves emerge from the shadows and follow the first wolf’s lead in attacking. The lightning manages to hit quite a few but with the multiple targets present, it switches too fast for any consistent damage.

“What the-?!” The mage yells in a mix of frustration and confusion. She can only try to float away from the horde in the shield. But the shield flickers and you can see the way her body trembles as the wolves surround her, awaiting for that flimsy shield to break.

And when it does, the bloodbath is horrific.

You’ve seen many people die, usually in painful ways. Thanks to your upbringing and line of work of course. But most of it was done with knives and guns, maybe the occasional poison if stealth was necessary. The sight of sharp teeth digging into screaming flesh was a new experience.

Blood stains the maws of the wolves and flies off to splat on your face. It’s still warm and the feeling of it sticking to your skin is nauseating. Her clothes are ripped as well as her limbs. It’s hard not to gag when you realize that they’re eating her.

The smell of iron gets stronger when all the wolves turn to you. Teeth bared showing strings of flesh clinging to their teeth. You can just barely make out shredded green hair, a half eaten arm and soulless eyes seeping out her mangled head.

Shakily you try and stand up, it’s not the best decision with all the pack staring at you but you could care less about that. Between the realization that everything is real, that you aren’t on Earth, and how you seem to resemble the ‘Creator’.

Nothing seems to make sense and you can only focus on escaping.

A teal symbol appears below the pack of wolves before wind shoots up, throwing the wolves into the air. You stare at the familiar symbol and the relief you feel is immense. 

The wolves hit the ground with a whimper before running away. The symbol fades as a figure floats down from far above you. 

Venti, the Anemo Archon disguised as his deceased friend, holds the Skyward Harp bow you equipped on him as he floats to the ground in front of you. Cream and teal green colors make up his signature bard outfit as he smiles at you.

Soft nearly girlish features look down at your bloodstained figure as mirth swirls in his teal eyes. With no danger present, the thrum of your heart slows down letting you smile crookedly at him.

“Thank you for the save. I was really about to die there…” Your words trail off at the Anemo infused arrow pointed at your face. 

“It’s my pleasure imposter.”

This has to be some sick joke. Once is an incident, twice is a coincidence but did you really want to deny it and risk the third being a pattern? Gulping you stare at Venti’s face, the smile he wears is now lined with something… sinister.

“What do you mean by imposter? I haven’t claimed to be anyone.” A giggle leaves him at your words but the arrow in your face is steady.

“You really are clueless huh? No one is just born with the Creator’s face yet you, a stranger that appeared from nowhere, are.” Frowning you try to make sense of his words. If you visibly looked like this ‘Creator’ then what made the Cicin Mage be sure that you aren’t?

“Just like that Fatui brat, I too believed you to be the Creator. But the more you spoke and the way you acted made me suspicious. I’ll give her some credit for thinking to cut you to see the color of your blood.”

The color? You glance down at your palm, it was bleeding red so was that abnormal for the Creator?

“Then again, if you did bleed gold I would have just immediately killed her for daring to harm our God.” The fuck?! You mean you’re about to die for being born with this face and not bleeding liquid gold?!

“What the fuck man, is it really that serious?” You knew those were the wrong words to say as the arrow comes close enough for you to feel the air whipping around it. His smile disappears and the dark glint in his eyes are more than enough for you to shut up.

“That serious? Oh what a pity it is to exist without knowledge of the Creator. Without even touching how they created every particle of energy, every drop of blood in our bodies and the vast gifts they gifted us I could still lecture you on their divinity. But I’ll keep it short and simple that even you can understand. They help poor outlanders who arrived here to find their sibling and even used that opportunity to take care of the nations they come across. Their touch extends from the most important events to the smallest tasks that even normal people wouldn’t bother with. How could we, how could I, not worship them?”

So this was a cult? It was the only viable explanation as to why both a Fatui member and an Archon like Barbatoes could agree on something. And by extension that means you must be the Creator.

The only one that could ‘control’ the outlander is you as the player. It would explain why you look ‘exactly’ like them, why Venti was wielding the bow you specifically put on him and even why you had appeared in this world with the bag.

But why the hell is there a condition about having gold blood attached to it?

“You seem to fully understand why I’m pointing this arrow at you. Then that means we can end this here and now-”

“Look Venti, I never fucking claimed to be the Creator. And isn’t this lecture hypocritical considering that you’re parading around in the body of your dead friend? I was born with this face, what’s your excuse?”

There’s a full stop with your words hanging out in the open. Like the slightest pressure on a tightrope leaving you to wonder whether you’ll stay balanced or fall off into the air. He blinks at you with a mix of emotions you can’t decipher.

A snort leaves him that evolves into a chuckle before turning into full blown laughter. His head is thrown back as the bow slants down, his laughter doesn’t put you at ease. He finally calms down as you wait patiently on the ground.

Running would be useless against the God of Wind.

“I have to admit, you make a very good point. I suppose the term imposter doesn’t suit you anymore. What is your name? If you have one of course.”

Seems your gamble paid off, Venti wasn’t the type to stay fixated on one rule or another. He’s flexible just like one would expect from the God of Freedom. Whether or not you would risk your name being known as the Creator’s is another risk.

“My name is Y/N.” You can’t offer more personal information than that. The only reason you gave up your name is due to his power to hear through the wind. There’s no telling when you could accidently slip up and have Venti hunt you down due to your lie.

“Well Y/N, it’s your lucky day today! I’ll let you live for succeeding in pointing out my ‘hypocrisy’ as you put it. Mind you, it’s definitely not on the same level. My friend is dead and not the Almighty Creator. But then again you didn’t claim to be the Creator either. In fact, I’m more interested to know how you even came to obtain that information while managing to be oblivious to our God’s presence…”

Well it certainly wasn’t your fault that Genshin fucking hid everything about this. But you needed a way to explain how you know so much while being oblivious to the ‘Creator’.

“I’m just a messenger blessed with visions of their journey.” The words are spoken solemnly but Venti seems intrigued either way.

“My sole purpose is to communicate words and feelings that the traveler couldn’t convey.” Venti frowns at that, and you know it’s not the best set up considering you didn’t even know about the creator a few hours ago. But Venti didn’t give up any super useful information to work with either.

“Oh really? That lets see some proof and maybe then I won’t kill you for claiming to be a servant of the Creator’s.”

“I’m well aware that the Creator hasn’t selected every vision holder to be used by them. Captain Eula for instance hasn’t ever been wielded unlike how often Chief Alchemist Albedo has been. That’s not counting the brief moments on special occasions.”

Venti stays silent at that but his eyes haven’t strayed from you. His dark braids and teal blue tips are gently swayed by the wind as he keeps a firm grip on his bow. 

“I recall on more than one occasion how often you would be wielded to group up enemies in combat. Both in the various regions and in the Spiral Abyss in the sea.”

He hums in contemplation at your words. A playful smile graces his face as he leans downwards to ask you. “All this sounds very nice and all but how does this explain your confusion to being mistaken as the creator?”

A pivotal question that decides your fate hangs in the air. There’s no stalling or distractions to help you out. Sheepishly smiling, you stare back at him as a sad tone coats your next words.

“In truth, I’ve never seen the Creator. For a long time I studied those visions as intangible feelings bloomed within me without reason. But one day I was spoken to in the sweetest whisper of how they longed to converse with their people.”

Closing your eyes and clasping your hands, you continued to speak with a wavering voice.

“I offered them myself to be used but I never received an answer. And now I woke up here with no memories of my past outside of the visions. It was only after you spoke about the Creator that I realized my God and your God are one in the same.”

Opening your eyes to smile widely up at the surprised expression on Venti’s face you finished your words.

“I truly am lucky to be blessed with a face so closely resembling the Creator’s. But you shouldn’t mistake me for the Creator. A mere oracle like me pales in comparison to the Creator of All.”

The bow disappears from his hands and he begins to clap. “That would earn you a standing ovation if this was done in front of a crowd!” He laughs but you don’t relax your body, that decision is proven right when his tone lowers dangerously.

“While your story makes sense, I can’t just trust you. Everything can be neatly resolved if I just believe you to be Celestia’s spy and kill you right now.”

An arrow flies past you, grazing your neck before you could even try to move away. 

“I’ll stay true to my word and let you live. Feel free to roam my region and claim to be the oracle. I will not stop you but don’t expect me to let you spread false information either.” Your blood is warm as your bloody palm presses on the burning wound in hopes of slowing the bleeding.

“But if I ever hear or find out about you using those blessed features to mimic or claim to be the creator. I will end you.”

The eyes of Barbetos stare you down as wind whips around his body. You could see that it was Barbatoes watching you instead of Venti.

“I’ll hunt you down across the nations and string up your body for the Genesis Cathedral to see.” With those last lingering words, the wind becomes a barrier as a symbol glows on the ground.

You close your eyes instinctively in response to the harsh wind and open them to the sight of a bloody clearing instead.

A weary sigh leaves you before you collapse backwards onto the grass. The sun that shines above you is your only guiding light now that the beacon of blue spelt out pain instead of hope.

The events that you had just gone through make your head spin. Your fingers slid up your face and carefully traced your bloody features. 

The Cicin Mage’s bloody mask lays on the ground just a few feet away. 

It’s just a temporary measure you tell yourself as you slide the uncomfortable and unfitting mask on. Just until you can find a way to cover your face properly.

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

The sight of the Barbatoes statue that glows in your presence is almost nauseating. The blood from that event still sticks to you despite how much you rubbed on it. To your surprise the Statue heals your injuries and leaves you feeling more refreshed than before.

The metal club you hold in your dominant hand seems to weigh less too.

You cast a wary glance towards Dawn Winery before looking at the faint outline of Mondstadt city. There’s no way you could go to Dawn Winery wearing a Fatui mask, Diluc would actually kill you. But could you go to the city wearing this mask in strange bloody clothing either?

Even Springvale seemed like a bad place to travel to in this state.

With a groan you readjust the mask and turn slowly to survey the area. The outline of smoke rising catches your attention. Out of all your options, this was your best bet.

You creeped closer to the smoke's origin and arrived at the edge of a small cliff. Looking down you could see three figures sitting around a campfire. Deciding to lay low for the time being you flatten yourself on the ground with a clear view of the camp.

A purple and black clothed blonde, silver hair poking out of a dark gray hooded figure, and finally a pale haired person that was definitely burning the food. Just those aspects make it clear that you accidentally stumbled on Fischl, Razor and Bennett.

Thoughts of what you went through earlier with Venti come to mind as your finger brushes against the healed skin where Venti left his ‘warning’. 

Patiently you watch the trio as they struggle to eat the burnt food. The sun has already begun to set and you think through different plans on how to obtain a change of appearance from the group. The bushes on the opposite side of the camp shake, catching your attention.

From your vantage point, you can clearly make out some treasure hoarders shuffling closer to the camp. Biting your lip, you debate whether to reveal yourself to warn the trio or not. Teal eyes flash in the back of your mind solidifying your choice in not getting involved.

Instead you watch as Razor suddenly stands up and sniffs the air, his greatsword materialized into his hands. Fischl and Bennett stand up in hurry as they look around. Oz, Fischl’s companion manifested by electro is summoned too.

It was pretty entertaining to watch the hoarders freeze in place at the commotion. Razor stalks around the camp on edge as Fischl commands Oz, he obeys by soaring on the border. Bennett to his credit tries to simply sit back down on the lod, more than well aware of his extreme unluckiness.

Except it breaks beneath him making him fall flat onto the ground and get scratched up from the broken pieces. Most likely worried, Razor and Fischl move closer to Bennett as he stands up laughing sheepishly.

Even from far away you can hear his bright sunny voice ring out. “Don’t worry I’m okay!-” The barrel that he uses to help himself up just so happens to be a pyro slime barrel that explodes at the contact. 

Cringing you watch Bennett fly through the air and land on the hilichurl structures crushing them. The dust settles and the now exposed treasure hoarders look at FIschl and Razor with that signature ‘deer in headlights’ expression. 

The camp goes into chaos to say the least.

The hoarders attack first as Fischl and Razor meet them halfway only using physical attacks. Probably due to the fact that Bennett was on fire and frantically trying to put out the small fire growing around him.

A hoarder slinking in the back of the group raises a vial, the plum colored clothing he wears makes it clear what kind of potion he was about to throw. And just as you were already anticipating, he threw the electro potion in Bennetts direction looking like a direct hit.

A direct hit at the second pyro slime barrel just inches away from Bennett.

The resounding explosion was at least double the previous one as smoke and dust covered the area. You can’t see much as you rub your eyes but there’s a loud thud of something hitting the cooking pot and a follow-up of more smaller scale explosions.

It all calms down as Razor and Fischl cough out the remaining smoke, they’re surprisingly unharmed in the center as Bennett and the hoarders lay passed out. Bennett’s ashy hair is slickened with blood and his mildly charred body catch the duo’s immediate attention.

You can’t help but feel slightly worried at the sight, head trauma was no joke. Perhaps it was your distracted thoughts but you didn’t even realize how close you moved to the edge until ruby red eyes met with yours.

Fischl is shaking Bennett trying to wake him up but you can’t look away from Razor’s red eyes staring into yours. 

“Wolf der kleinen worte! Do thou not grasp our ill-fated companions condition?! Quicken thou sloth paced soles and support our misfortunate companion!”

Razor breaks the staring contest to look at Fischl with a pinched expression. “I-I don't know.”

To his credit he does get closer but immediately stops when Fischl or rather Amy yells in frustration.

“Just help me carry Bennett to Springvale!” Razor rushes to Bennetts side and supports most of Bennetts weight. He seems to have completely forgotten about you thankfully.

“Um Mein Fräulein , I believe we have a-'' Oz begins as he returns to the frantic Fischl's side. She's quick to snap at him too. “Silence Oz! Matters unrelated to the wretched and uncouth incident that our companion is suffering from can be properly dealt with at the hour of dark deception.”

You almost feel bad for the crow if he would just stop giving you those damn pointed looks. Just to push his buttons in return, you bring your hand up to wave at him.

His grumpiness at your actions is visible but useless as he's forced to follow Fischl and Razor who rush toward Springvale.

Meticulously you watch their figures get farther and shrouded by the forage before quickly descending from your hiding spot.

Once you land at the now ruined camp, you reach down to the first treasure hoarder and rip off his mask. Discarding the Cicin mask you place the flimsy cloth mask on with a sigh of relief.

The ill fitting and hard mask of the Cicin was not something you wanted to wear longer than needed. Readjusting the thin mask you frown. It seemed this one wasn't much better…

Taking a good long look around you note how the majority of the headers had masks on. The clothes they're wearing are mostly intact and clean too…

Without a shred of guilt or sympathy you stood in the camp wearing new clothes and a reinforced mask covering most of your lower face. Your bag is full of similar clothing, leftover masks, weapons, a meager amount of mora and vials of elemental energy that would no doubt sell for a good amount of mora.

Luck finally shined down on you when one of the treasure hoarders groaned as he sat up. Your blood-stained metal club's spikes glistened in the rising moonlight as you smiled down at him.

“Hey, let's make this quick. Long story short I'm going to need you to answer my questions with every lingering integrity you have or else this club will bludgeon your head like a pinata!”

Whether he knew what a pinata was or not didn't matter. The fear flickering in his eyes only spurred you to grin wider.

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

You left Mondstadts gates with slumped shoulders and drained morale. It's been a few days since you woke up in Mondstadt and today you finally had everything set up to live in a different nation.

The perfect layers of a backstory of being an ex treasure hoarder turned adventurer. An oracle to the acolytes who sensed your divinity. So far only Venti has heard about your outlander status.

You intended to keep it that way.

Venti stayed true to his words and never tried to out you in any way. But you just couldn't feel comfortable enough to live in Mondstadt long term, especially with Ventis increasing clinginess. 

It was a strange development and he wasn't the only one to display those tendencies but you couldn't keep putting yourself under this stress.

At least in a different nation, you might only have to fear accidentally running into an acolyte. But other than that you would be relatively set for life.

Those encouraging thoughts of the future caused you to stroll with a pep in your step. If you kept up this pace, you'll be passing Dawn Winery before noon.

“Ughh, please…” The hoarse voice of a man is is close by but all you can feel is dread. You don't see him, nor do you look for him. You did NOT want to get caught up in someone else's problem. You had enough of your own to worry about.

That plan is thrown out the window when a weak hand grasps your ankle. Looking down your eyes trail over the pale hand to the bleeding body it belongs to. Yanking yourself out of the deathly tight grip you stare warily at the man.

“Please, your grace, I need your help. I need your mercy…” That title made your heart skip a beat as you glared down at the man.

Did he know? How could he when you sewed so many of their shitty masks to make the durable one you wear now?

Red and pink froth bubbles out of his mouth as he coughs pathetically. His whole body is pale and thin, very unlike the first and only set of treasure hoarders you saw when you first transmigrated.

“I beg of you, show me mercy!” Grimacing at his wails you look around to make sure no one is around. When you look back down at him, you can finally see the injuries he wore.

A long gash down his chest, deep and maggot infested to boot. Legs mangled and oozing something that smells like death itself. Then there's his face, if you can even call it that, burned to hell and back.

With no eyelids, you stare back into his glazed ones as he mumbles endlessly. All you can hear him mutter is pleading for mercy and death. 

Seems like he can't actually see you, but would Venti take it the same way? Gritting your teeth you try to move around the dying man when his eyes latch onto your clothes.

“Ha…HAHA!” He laughs hysterically letting his chewed tongue hang out. Repulsed, you stop and glare down at him in confusion.

“Running is useless for us! HAHAHA- THE COLD ALWAYS COMES WITH THE WIND!” Without any warning his laughs become sobs as his hands grope the grass. “They were right! We should have listened to them… Treasure Hoarders like us can't survive in Mondstadt…”

“Ex-treasure hoarder.” You correct automatically more then used to doing so in the city.

Shaking your head with a groan you turn around. Why were you still here with this soon to be corpse?! You had other places to be and better things to do then get caught due to this guy.

Danger. Your body feels an immense sense of danger that has you throwing yourself to the side in an instant. A wave of cold breezes past you at the same time causing frost to grow on the side of your torso.

Seems you were right about Teyvat sending you some sort of signals in these situations. But the way your head hit the ground sent your mind into a haze. 

Teyvat sends another warning but the dizziness hasn't subsided enough for you to even move. It would have been useless anyway as the next elemental attack is too broad for you to dodge. Hydro washes over your body before a lighter Cryo attack mixes in.

Now frozen in place attached to the ground, you can't even see who even attacked you. Hands pry you off the ground and flip you over.

Colors and shapes wooz together until the only thing your sight can process is two things. A cryo vision and hydro vision glow before a bag is thrown over your head effectively blocking your vision.

Panic and fear hit you like a ton of bricks at the realization as you're lifted into the air. Flailing your body as much as you can frozen you angrily yell even with the slurring.

“Put me dwown! Lwet me gwo!”

The kidnappers ignore your screams and curses as they leave the area. Judging by the crack you heard, you're sure the treasure hoarder was already put out of his misery.

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

You're not sure how long it's been since you've been kidnapped. The cryo that drips off your body has mostly melted away now replaced by rope but you've long lost the energy needed to get away.

After being kidnapped by those two vision holders, Kaeya, Rosaria, Barbara, Mona, Mika so many possibilities since they can just travel(this will be in different font), you were handed off to other people. They must have handed you off at least 4 times and any sense of where the fuck you are has been lost. 

But the sounds of nature and the faint smell of grass have dropped off. Now replaced by the sound of your captors boots hitting stone pavement. A building, an underground one considering the lack of sunlight and faint color of flames that you pass by. 

The bag over your head was annoying but relatively useless if they wanted to keep you completely blind. The only thing you truly lamented is your bound hands. If they were free you could bring up the screen and blindly teleport to the few waypoints you unlocked.

And even if that didn't work, you could just use one of the characters to fight through all the enemies before making your escape-

Your thoughts are cut off by the creaking of a door being swung open. Abruptly you're pushed down into a chair and more ropes are bound tying you to the chair.

When the bag is torn off you're mildly surprised by the completely white room. The only pop of color you could see is the blurry things behind the people in front of you.

Eyes struggling to focus after being cut off for so long you squint at them in front of you. 

“You must be the latest person to join our reform program. How lucky you are!”

Something about that happy go lucky tone made your stomach churn. It was eerily reminiscent of when Venti went on that spiel about the ‘Creator’.

Clarity is regained and you frown suspiciously at the two people in front of you. 

The man on the left stands in pure white clothing with a black suit underneath that barely pokes out. A cassock if you remember correctly. His short blonde hair and facial features are somewhat familiar.

The woman on the right matches his perfect posture with the same outfit. Again her brown hair in that braid laying over her shoulder gives you an even stronger sense of recognition.

But the smiles they wear are identical and eerie in the most utopian way you can imagine. Adding in their earlier words about being part of the ‘reform’ program makes it clear that this is some cultish shit.

“Extremely lucky considering that they get to witness first hand how we, who were once in their position, are going to help them reform first hand!”

…If that wasn't ominous then you didn't know what was.

Simultaneously they speak with wide smiles and eyes gleaming in a way you can't trust.

“Welcome sinner to the Genesis Cathedral.”

Maybe that alone wouldn't be too big of a deal. Escaping from the depths of a cult was hard but you had powers from being the Creator.

It was the gold weapons faintly stained with blood in the background that sent chills down your spine.

Guess who forgot to post it last night? Sorry everyone but I do hope you enjoy this admittedly long special. It was a lot of fun to write! [Guess who had to spend an extra 10 minutes fixing shit when Tumblr forced me to exit without saving it?] My characterization of Venti is quite different then how most of the SAGAU fics have him (that I read). Mostly cause I feel everyone only sees the SAGAU and his God of Freedom is lost in the mix. It's not super bad but it does feel like a shame. I was enjoying making the camp go to hell with Bennett as his unluckiness is a easy plot device lol. But he is one of my fav characters so no surprise there. The next chapter and onwards will be for the main series as again this was just a 'what if' au. Again this was fun and a nice change of pace but at the end of the day- I have a whole document draft detailing the general events (and certain twists) of the main plot. Thank you all for the support, likes, reblogs (yes I read your tags <3), and comments! Taglist is always open for more, it's kinda like growing a conga line if I had to make a comparison lol

Taglist: If your username is in italics, that means I couldn't tag you! It's going to be in this format from now on since Tumblr has a text limit per paragraph.

@vvyeislazzy, @nikqi, @the-dumber-scaramouche, @etherisy, @yourlocalstranger123, @ra404, @iruiji, @goldenglow149, @haru-tofuu, @lsleepysimpl, @bebobeboben, @yuyuzi-ling, @amidst-the-tempest, @resident-cryptid, @mxd1zzy, @mochicurls21, @nervouseaglelover, @thedevioussmirk, @yumuramma, @kwqsla, @undecidingfate, @ehjane, @game-savvy, @akiramirae, @liansh3ng, @fluffy-koalala, @formacoon, @sxftiebee, @khxii-i, @ursinaw, @chuuya-brainrot, @sweetbills, @kazuchaos, @snowfoxnix, @bluebelony, @shellofthewell, @pencil-of-ashes, @ghostlyintervention, @taiformaifoe, @goaudduck, @carminerin, @maddysflowers, @zenith-of-all-zenith, @crazydreamcat, @leafanonsforest, @grimreapersscythe, @leylanx, @sapphireknown, @help-whatdoimakemyusername

@zhonglisfruityass, @mer0n37, @victoria1676, @mochinessss, @sinnful-darling, @emilymikado, @pix-stuff, @esthelily, @luxie963, @emmbny, @millienolife @kbar1013, @xxblackroses623xx, @chxrlxtteee, @aludicpoet, @yandematic, @atrcclovsxoxo, @0lshadyl0, @esthelily, @t-rex-red, @ck123, @steadybreadbluebird, @118gremlin, @stratonia, @time-shardz, @farelady-fate, @valeriele3, @francisnyx, @byakuren100, @waveto-earth, @flyingpansaurus, @silverstarred, @iamapotatoe, @ghosthii, @beloveddroplet, @uchihaeirin, @ibelieveinsleep, @idk098, @thefirstonetoeverlikemeback, @toramune, @haaaaaades, @horologiumwise

[esther-dot]

But why do you think jonsa wasn’t more foreshadowed if they’re the main romantic pairing?

Well, I think we have comparable foreshadowing, often as a positive contrast to Jonerys foreshadowing which the entire fandom believes is the big romance of the series, so I’m gonna challenge your premise and argue that it isn't the lack of foreshadowing for Jonsa that you're noticing, but the fandom's refusal to accept it. I believe that's because Jonsa is a threat to their priors (Jon and Dany are the heroes, they will meet, fall in love, and defeat the Others together, something that is impossible to believe when Martin says things like this) rather than it being a fair evaluation of the existence or merit of our foreshadowing.

Below I'll point out a few kinds of foreshadowing/examples and present the similar Jonsa version so you can see what I mean.

The premise for Jonerys seems to be that every similarity in their arcs is a parallel, but they are actually contrasts if you read closely (fedonciadale's post about that), and Sansa too has parallels with Jon as you can see in @thewindsofwolves's beautiful parallel series. Their similar journeys are also captured in this gifset and this gorgeous art, and it is certainly intentional, as Sansa seems to pattern Alayne in part on Jon ie we're being told she's getting to experience parts of his life. And, unlike Dany whose plan to conquer Westeros puts her at odds with the Starks, Sansa and Jon are written as having the same, very simple, compatible dream,

If I give him sons, he may come to love me. She would name them Eddard and Brandon and Rickon, and raise them all to be as valiant as Ser Loras. And to hate Lannisters, too. In Sansa's dreams, her children looked just like the brothers she had lost. Sometimes there was even a girl who looked like Arya. (ASOS, Sansa II) I would need to steal her if I wanted her love, but she might give me children. I might someday hold a son of my own blood in my arms. A son was something Jon Snow had never dared dream of, since he decided to live his life on the Wall. I could name him Robb. (ASOS, Jon XII)

If we're looking for a romance, foreshadowing that is about a personal relationship, this seems pertinent? And then there's Jon's desire to rebuild Winterfell, and the scene of Sansa literally building it out of snow:

Winterfell, he thought. Theon left it burned and broken, but I could restore it. Surely his father would have wanted that, and Robb as well. They would never have wanted the castle left in ruins. (ASOS, Jon XII) The snow fell and the castle rose. Two walls ankle-high, the inner taller than the outer. Towers and turrets, keeps and stairs, a round kitchen, a square armory, the stables along the inside of the west wall. It was only a castle when she began, but before very long Sansa knew it was Winterfell. (ASOS, Sansa VII)

Those two, back-to-back chapters, are absolutely full of parallels. They share a dream, and upon their reunion, will have a common purpose. I'll also link my post about how Sansa's forced marriage to Tyrion has connections to Jon's relationship with Ygritte, and @stormcloudrising's post about the similarities between the interactions of Sansa and the Hound & Jon and Ygritte. There are tons of these, but you get the idea. If we're looking for parallels between experiences, we have them.

Now, a popular method of finding foreshadowing is chapter order, but Jonsa has that too. Here's a 2018 post by @julibf that talks a bit about it, and @istumpysk's ASOS recap talks about that here and here.

There are two moments I've seen Jonerys shippers point to quite often as foreshadowing. Jon and the moon, Dany and the wolf. But the thing is, Sansa is the sun, and one of the "Jonerys" (Jon and the moon) passages has Jon running away from the moon to the cave with the sun (fedonciadale's post about that). The wolf moment also has a Jonsa contrast:

Off in the distance, a wolf howled. The sound made her feel sad and lonely, but no less hungry. As the moon rose above the grasslands, Dany slipped at last into a restless sleep. (ADWD, Daenerys X) All around was empty air and sky, the ground falling away sharply to either side. There was ice underfoot, and broken stones just waiting to turn an ankle, and the wind was howling fiercely. It sounds like a wolf, thought Sansa. A ghost wolf, big as mountains. (AFFC, Alayne II)

Far be it from me to say that Dany hearing a wolf but being lost to her desires and Sansa hearing a wolf, a ghost wolf, and finding it an overwhelming presence (mountain) means something, but if one does, the other does too. And if we're reading them both as foreshadowing, I think there are some reasonable, and unreasonable conclusions to draw from them. So, you can see why imo the fandom employs a double standard in how they weigh the merits of foreshadowing and interpret one as nonexistent and the other as real and positive.

Another oft referenced bit is Dany's vision of the blue flower and the dream of the shadowy lover, so I'll link some analysis of those that I think is far more...uh, shall I say, contextualized. There are @agentrouka-blog's posts on Winter Roses here and here, and her tag for it if you're interested in really exploring it thoroughly. There’s fedoncidale's post about it, her post about the shadowy lover, and @ladyofasoiaf's spec about how the shadow lover foreshadowing is actually Euron.

Oh, and I almost forgot Val who I've seen brought into the picture as foreshadowing for Dany, but there's a funny thing with her hair which again, if we're gonna look at her hair color and say she's a stand-in for Dany, we should be able to look at it and say, ok, but that means over here she's a stand-in for Sansa, and besides, the connotations for Jonerys there are very bad as discovered by @wintersnow39.

Basically, I don't think there's a lack of foreshadowing, I think there's simply a bias in the fandom that rejects Jonsa foreshadowing while happily accepting incredibly similar foreshadowing for other couples.

[unabashegirl]

Lycan 11 — werewolf

Y/N returns to her hometown, Alsfield, when her father falls ill, only to discover the town hides a dark secret—one protected by the mysterious Harry Styles. As Y/N unravels the town's mysteries, her plans to return to San Francisco are derailed.

author's note: hello everyone! I hope you are all doing wonderfully. Here is the most waited chapter. I just wanted to let everyone now that Lycan has just been updated to chapter 17 on my Patreon. Here is the following schedule for my patreon these upcoming days.

check out my patreon (starting at $2) and get full access to all chapters, various one shots like The Cover and much more :)

word count: 2.2K

masterlist

Y/N slowly regained consciousness, the sound of voices around her gradually becoming clearer. Among them, she could distinguish Niall's voice. Her head throbbed painfully.

Y/N blinked, her vision slowly adjusting to the bright hospital room. She was still trying to grasp the surreal events that had transpired. Niall's explanation about being a werewolf and her subsequent fainting had left her in a state of disbelief.

“What happened?” she asked again, her voice barely above a whisper.

Niall leaned closer, his gaze filled with a mix of concern and understanding. “You fainted when I showed you my true form,” he repeated gently. “You're in the hospital now, within the territory of our pack.”

Y/N's eyes widened at his words. “Pack? Territory?”

Niall nodded, his expression serious. “Yes, Y/N. Instead of towns, we wolves live in packs, each governed by a hierarchy. You're in the territory of the Shadow Pack, one of the largest packs on the west side of the United States.”

Y/N's head was spinning with the magnitude of what she was hearing. It was as if she had entered a completely different world, one she had never known existed. “Shadow Pack? But… what does that mean?”

Niall smiled softly, though there was a hint of sadness in his eyes. “It means you're part of something much larger than you ever imagined.”

Y/N's mind raced with questions, but one thing was clear: her life had taken an unexpected and extraordinary turn. She was no longer just a resident of a quiet town; she was now part of a world where werewolves existed, and she belonged to the formidable Shadow Pack. The mysteries and secrets of her past and her town were deeply intertwined with this newfound reality, and she had only just begun to uncover the truth.

Y/N's confusion only deepened as she tried to make sense of the incredible revelation Niall had shared with her. Her head throbbed painfully, and she winced as her hand came into contact with a tender spot at the back of her head. She must have injured herself during her fall when she fainted.

Niall noticed her discomfort and reached out with concern. “Are you okay? You took quite a tumble.”

Y/N nodded weakly, her focus returning to the conversation at hand. “I think so. But... I don't even know where to begin with all of this. What do you mean by hierarchy? And who's in charge?”

Niall took a deep breath, preparing to explain the complex structure of their pack. “In a wolf pack, there's a hierarchy, similar to a social order. At the top, we have the Alpha, who's the leader and makes the most critical decisions for the pack. The Beta is second in command and assists the Alpha in various ways. Then there's the Omega, who is often the lowest-ranking member of the pack.”

Y/N nodded slowly, trying to absorb this new information. “So, where do you fit into all of this?"

Niall hesitated for a moment before answering, "I'm the Beta of the Shadow Pack, which means I'm the second in command. The Alpha is the one you need to meet."

Y/N's curiosity piqued as she considered what this meeting with the Alpha might entail. "What's next, then?"

Niall stood up, offering her a hand. "First, we need to get you patched up properly. After that, I'll take you to meet the Alpha. It's important for you to understand our world, especially now that you're sort of part of it."

“Sort of?”

“I’ll explain everything as it unfolds, alright?”

Y/N accepted his hand, feeling a mixture of emotions—confusion, fear, but also a growing sense of curiosity and intrigue. Her journey into the unknown had only just begun, and with Niall as her guide, she was about to delve deeper into a reality that was far more extraordinary and complex than anything she had ever imagined.

Just as Niall was about to help Y/N up and guide her towards her next steps within the pack, the hospital room's door swung open, and in walked a young woman with an air of excitement about her. Her bright smile was infectious, but her enthusiasm seemed almost excessive.

"Hello, hello!" the woman exclaimed, her energy radiating through the room. "You must be Y/N! I've heard so much about you, and I've been dying to meet you!"

Y/N blinked in surprise, taken aback by the stranger's exuberance. "Uh, yes, I'm Y/N. Nice to meet you."

The woman practically bounded over to Y/N's bedside, extending a hand. "I'm Michaela, one of the pack's doctors. It's just fantastic to finally have you here with us!"

Y/N shook Michaela's hand, a bit bewildered by the warm reception. "Thank you for taking care of me."

Michaela beamed. "Oh, it's my pleasure! We don't often have newcomers, especially ones like you!"

Niall watched the interaction between Y/N and Michaela with a knowing expression, his lips curved into a faint smile. He had expected this level of enthusiasm from Michaela, who tended to be excitable around newcomers.

Michaela continued to fuss over Y/N, checking her vital signs and ensuring that she was feeling as comfortable as possible. Y/N couldn't help but feel a bit overwhelmed by the doctor's enthusiasm and the whirlwind of events that had unfolded since her arrival in the pack territory.

After a thorough examination, Michaela turned to Niall and spoke with a warm smile. "Niall, make sure she gets plenty of rest in the upcoming days. She's been through quite an ordeal. I'm prescribing some pain relief medication for her." She handed a small slip of paper to Niall.

Niall nodded appreciatively, taking the prescription from her. "Thank you, Michaela. We'll make sure she rests."

Before they could make their exit, Michaela surprised Y/N by pulling her into a gentle hug. As they embraced, the doctor whispered softly into her ear, "I'm so glad you've finally been found."

Y/N pulled back, her confusion deepening. "Found? What do you mean?"

Michaela gave her a cryptic smile and patted her shoulder before turning her attention to Niall. "Take care of her, Niall. We'll talk more soon."

With that, Michaela left the room, leaving Y/N with a sense of intrigue and curiosity. The mysteries surrounding her presence in the pack territory and the unusual reactions of its members only seemed to deepen. As she and Niall departed the hospital room, Y/N couldn't shake the feeling that there was something significant she had yet to uncover about her own past and the world she had entered.

As Y/N and Niall stepped outside the hospital, Y/N's eyes widened in amazement at the sight that greeted her. The pack territory was nothing short of breathtaking. It was a stark contrast to the town she had grown up in, which had always felt a bit ordinary and uninspiring.

The landscape before her was a vision of natural beauty. Towering trees reached for the sky, their leaves rustling in the gentle breeze. Flowers of vibrant colors carpeted the ground, painting the meadows with a riot of hues. The air was fresh and invigorating, and the sound of birds singing in the distance filled the atmosphere.

Y/N couldn't help but marvel at the picturesque scenery. It was as if she had stepped into a hidden paradise within the vast forest, a place she never could have imagined in her wildest dreams.

"It's... it's incredible," she finally managed to say, her voice filled with awe.

Niall nodded, his eyes reflecting her wonder. "This is our home, Y/N. The pack territory. It's a place of beauty and serenity, where we live in harmony with nature."

As they began to walk through the territory, Y/N's initial apprehension about the forest faded away. It was no longer a place that filled her with fear; instead, it felt like a sanctuary. The pack had created a world that was not only harmonious but also vibrant and alive.

With each step, Y/N couldn't help but feel a sense of belonging, a connection to this remarkable world that was now her own. The mysteries and secrets of the pack were slowly unfolding before her, and she couldn't wait to discover more about her place within it.

As Y/N and Niall strolled through the streets of the pack territory, Y/N couldn't help but be amazed by the level of civilization that existed in this seemingly secluded place. The town was complete with all the amenities one might find in a regular urban area—pharmacies, grocery stores, and even furniture shops. It was a well-organized and thriving community hidden within the depths of the forest.

Y/N couldn't contain her curiosity any longer. "Niall, how on earth did you all manage to build a town like this in such a remote location?"

Niall glanced at her, his expression cryptic. "The Alpha can provide more details on that. It's quite the story."

With her questions temporarily unanswered, they continued their journey through the town, eventually arriving at a rather grand-looking house at the heart of the territory. It was larger and more majestic than the other buildings, and Y/N couldn't help but be drawn to it.

"What's this place?" Y/N asked, her eyes fixed on the imposing structure.

Niall smiled, sensing her curiosity. "This is the pack house. It's where all the young wolves, the unmated ones, live. You could think of it as a sort of sorority or fraternity house. It's also where the Alpha's office is located."

As they approached the pack house, Y/N couldn't help but feel a mixture of excitement and trepidation. Her journey into this hidden world had taken another unexpected turn, and she was on the verge of meeting the enigmatic Alpha, the leader of the Shadow Pack, and unlocking more of the pack's secrets.

As Y/N and Niall entered the packhouse, Y/N couldn't help but be struck by its grandeur. It was far more than just a house; it resembled a castle. The architecture was imposing, with stone walls and a design that spoke of history and tradition. It was a stark contrast to the picturesque town they had just walked through, yet it held its own unique beauty.

The moment they stepped inside, the atmosphere changed. Laughter and the sounds of young adults running around filled the air. It was a lively and bustling place, full of energy and youthful exuberance. Y/N watched as the pack's young members went about their activities, their faces lit up with smiles.

However, as Niall led Y/N further into the packhouse, a hush fell over the crowd. The young adults, upon noticing Niall's presence, quieted down and cast curious glances in their direction. Some even offered polite nods and lowered their heads in a sign of respect.

Y/N couldn't help but feel like an outsider in this moment, an intruder into a world she was only beginning to understand. She followed Niall, her eyes taking in the surroundings, the faces, and the unspoken curiosity of those around her. It was clear that her presence here was an event of significance, and she couldn't help but wonder what awaited her in the Alpha's office and what role she would play in the pack's intricate hierarchy.

“Unfortunately for you and me, the alpha’s office is situated at the top floor” Niall frowned as they reached the stairs. “Trust me. I tried to advise him to bring the office to the ground floor, but he refused. He said the view inspired him”.

Niall and Y/N began their ascent to the top floor of the packhouse, where the Alpha's office was situated. The broken elevator meant they had no choice but to take the stairs, and it seemed like a never-ending climb.

The staircase spiraled upwards, each step bringing them closer to their destination. Y/N couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation building within her. With every step, she was edging closer to the answers she sought about her place in this mysterious world.

Niall remained quiet during the climb, his thoughts seemingly consumed by the upcoming meeting with the Alpha. Y/N, on the other hand, couldn't shake the feeling that the packhouse held countless secrets within its walls, and she was determined to uncover them.

As they finally reached the top floor, Y/N took a deep breath, mentally preparing herself for the encounter with the Alpha. She had come a long way since her arrival in the pack territory, and there was still so much more to discover about her own identity and the world of the Shadow Pack.

next ---> chapter 12

[imthepunchlord]

You know, the idea of the kwami's true forms being mythical creatures is actually a really cool and clever idea.

It's one that makes the most sense. Across various cultures, everyone has mythology relating to animals. Some range from common animal but it's big, like Fenrir is a big wolf.

Others are same animal but there's something mystical about it. Like the phoenix is usually portrayed as an eagle but it's also been vague bird that's fiery and is always reborn through flames. Unicorn and Pegasus are horse but with horn and wings respectively (though some unicorns do have hooves of goat and at ail of a lion). Or the kitsune which is a fox but has many tails, and there's the Finnish firefox that create the Aurora Borealis.

While others are a mix of various animals. Iconic dragons often boil down to snake/lizard with bat wings. And it happens to be tied to elemental power.

And this idea can play into creative flexibility for kwamis and their origins. Cause I don't know how canon the comics are or if they even should be counted as canon, I know a lot accept it as so as that's the only origins on kwamis and Miraculous thus far; but if people are up for more creative/different origins, you could do that kwamis did exist as mythical creatures. Playing into the idea that humans were endangered by what was magical and magic was rare for them, one of the best ways to combat magic is with magic. East to west, often a lot of stories about combating a magical threat is to have something or someone magical too.

It could be a mage or mages approached these fantastical creatures and offered them a deal: immortality and power for servitude and assistance of humanity. Cause Miraculous are meant to be used for good, and Origins implies it was against threats that humanity couldn't face as they were.

So kwamis existing not as cosmic beings but actual powerful creatures that lived on earth for eons and accepted the offer for immortality and power for servitude, can work well. And they take on a more "humble" form, not just as these little beings that you can easily carry around and hide in public as needed, but also could back them appearing as common animals. And this way, if kwamis really let their power lose, you're shaken seeing some big kaiju/mythical creature ready to let it all lose.

It could work off kwamis being all over the place morally or how they interact with humans. Some eagerly accepted because they wanted that immortality and power, some wanted to genuinely help humans, and some could've been tricked and thus would slower to warm up to humans.

Only thing is that this may not roll well with kwamis being embodiment of concepts, though arguably that could be for the better.

[overthinkingtaleblr]

My Taleblr Werewolf Headcanon Masterlist

While not the most present aspect throughout the entirety of Taleblr, the small and infrequent appearances made by lycanthropy has found its way into the hearts of the fandom. Of course, this may be largely because PIE is so beloved and just about every werewolf was involved in a PIE video. Not a bad thing, but it does also call into question How werewolves work, who has been one, and why we don't see them more often. Werewolves are a popular movie monster even outside of Taleblr, but every series has it's own rules. I think that defining what makes the werewolves that are encountered during the videos similar or different to other popular werewolves to be important in its own rights.

Whether it be Ghost being cured preemptively by eating fresh berries, or the Wyomingwolf getting her own unique title, I'm going to explore what it breadly means to be a werewolf in the Taleblr Universe.

While I would love to start by deconstructing the mod that was used for Toast's transformation and continue with a fandom exploration of the idea, I do want to open with determining what is meant by Werewolf here.

What are Lycanthropes?

General Mythology

The idea of people turning into wolves exists back to the Epic of Gilgamesh, the first written story in the world.

From the Merriam-Webster Dictionary: "The word lycanthropy comes from the Greek words lykos, meaning “wolf,” and anthrōpos, meaning “human being.”"

From the Merriam-Webster Dictionary: "Though some doubts about the word's etymology still remain, werewolf probably comes from a prehistoric West Germanic compound whose constituent parts gave Old English wer ("man") and wulf ("wolf")."

Werewolves as we know them likely comes from European Folklore. However, the first werewolf story is said to be the Greek Myth of Lycaon, who was turned into a wolf with his sons.

Additionally from the previous source, a lot of British serial killers were thought to be werewolves devouring their prey. Kind of messed up.

Okay, no more links.

The general consensus is that Werewolves are people who are, in some way, also wolves, likely done through a transformation of some kind. In history, we see the transformation to be permanent, but when the legend came home it became something one could turn back from.

Scientifically, the full moon doesn't do anything to creatures, whether it be wolves or humans (no hate to people who's spiritual beliefs include the moon <3). However, the idea of humans turning into wolves on the full moon likely came from previous ideas that wolves howl Only at full moons... and then from there the idea that humans act weird on full moons followed.

While I'm not sure where it came from, most interpretations of werewolves has them as humanoid wolves, others as basically humans as rabies, and others still as sentient wolves. It seems like it doesn't matter where on the scale between human and wolf a werewolf falls, so long as it is a human who is turned into a wolf, whether temporary or permanent.

Apparently a full moon in January is called a wolf moon.

In Taleblr

There were about two to three videos about werewolves and the werewolf arc, which is about curing lycanthrope. Unfortunately, I'm struggling to find out how many videos are counted for that arc, and apparently Toast was cured off-screen and we never got proper closure until a livestream years later.

The werewolves most known for Taleblr are the ones from Toast's time as a werewolf. These werewolves use this player model and this mod on Gmod, for anyone wanting to experiment with it themselves ^^

Just about every example of a werewolf in Taleblr is a human-shaped creature with wolf claws and a wolfish face covered in fur. They can infect others through bites-- though whether this is only in wolf form or also in human form I'm not sure.

Based on the transformation mod's description, they are stronger than people, they are faster than people, they regenerate themselves when hurt, the infection can be spread incredibly quickly and begin affects on the same full moon they were bit.

Johnny Ghost says that Lycanthropes can be cured with a specific berry, because he was able to prevent his own transformation by eating them in advance... I think he may be partially wrong, though.

If Johnny was right about the berries, the arc wouldn't exist. They already had leftover berries and knew where several bushes are. No, I think the distinction is that Ghost was infected by Toast, who was not fully infected and was still switching between wolf and human.

Either that, or the cure only worked because Ghost ate so many BEFORE the infection settled, and Toast was too late.

Fun Fact; the June full moon is apparently named after strawberries... I think we found the berries? (I was totally going to say it was blueberries before this)

Werewolves sneak when hunting and may be color blind like dogs.

According to Toast, they love jelly and can be cured by berries, though I do think that may be him craving berries mid-transformation. Funnily enough, a British version of the word Jelly is Jell-o, cuz british people only call jelly jam.

According to Ghost, they can be killed with silver bullets, but according to other videos, they can be killed with normal weapons too.

The Werewolves

Johnny Toast

We don't know who infected Johnny Toast, so there isn't much to say about how the infection spreads aside from what we see between Toast and Ghost. What wee see between them is Toast lashing out and attacking Ghost and Ghost being only infected temporarily while Toast oscillated between forms. Unlike what Ghost thinks, there are a variety of reasons as to why the infection may not have taken to Ghost while solidifying on Toast. This includes:

Ghost just has a better immune system at fighting supernatural threats.

Toast was infected longer before he started taking measures to cure it.

Ghost's berry theory is real and Ghost just ate all of them in the area like a dick.

Whether or not the infection takes depends on entirely chance and Ghost got lucky

Because Toast killed someone while in the form of a wolf, it solidified the transformation.

Because Ghost died soon after being infected, it purged the infection before it could take root.

Since serial killers used to be considered werewolves, the infection vanished because Ghost is technically Already Infected.

However there's no confirmation as to what the real case is. I am not taking Ghost at face value because. The man just for infected and uninflected with lycanthropy in an hour, an infection process that caused actual delirium in Toast.

While Toast can't remember anything while a wolf, he has reacted to things that Ghost told him to do while infected, implying that the wolf either recognizes Ghost or has some basic dog training. People taking quirks of Toast and applying it to the wolf? Amazing. People making stories about Toast trying to hide his infection only for people to end up hurt? Chef’s kiss. People who depict the werewolf as a lumbering shadow intimidating others? love it. People who depict the werewolf as a little guy a little boyyy? Cute as fuck. Whatever the case, the fandom is incredibly creative and I love everything y’all do with him.

I think that the fandom choosing to not acknowledge Toast's cure is for the best. Toast being a werewolf allows for sooo much character and is another threat to consider from inside the house. What isn't to love about a consistent problem that can't be solved with banishment or stabbing? I'm a fan of the posts that ask if Toast is worried about being a danger to his friends and associates, and I'm a fan of the fluffier posts that allow for Toast to just be a massive dog. I’d draw stuff for it if i could draw dogs.

For Toast I'm going to say that he was a British Columbian wolf because they were apparently notably Large. They also notably have the darker colors of brown and black that Johnny Toast was while infected. Also, they can be found in America despite being British.

The Wolfman of Wyoming

The Wolfman, also known as Alberto Guppy's sister (who I'm gonna call Amelia Wulf) was apparently an anomaly in Wyoming based on how she got her own title by existing freely. We don't know if she can turn back, or if her transformation is permanent. Both she and Alberto are genetic experiments done by who Alberto thought were their parents, and she especially got the short end of the stick. When they escaped the lab, we know that Alberto got his memory erased, and with no memories or experiences in the world, he began living on the streets around the same time that people would've started to notice his sister in the area.

Unlike Johnny Toast, the Wolfman definitely wasn't infected the same way. Because she was created by what I can only assume was gene-splicing in an attempt to recreate certain animal-based monsters from mythology. While Alberto seems to have either been an attempt at sirens or mermaids, it's obvious that Amelia was a at least partially-successful attempt at making a werewolf. While she is terrorizing a state now that she’s free, my guess is that she’s looking for her brother, since we don’t know when they got separated, and is fucking shit up in the meantime. I think that Amelia’s “parents” were working to re-capture her before the authorities, or in this case PIE, could find her and find out what they were doing.

Since gray wolves are native to the area, it's likely that's what type of wolf Amelia was genetically fused with. More specifically, the northern Rocky Mountain subspecies of gray wolf.

Unwolf Werewolves

And now, a list of character who apply for the label of werewolf if they only turned into specifically a wolf.

- Officer Maloney, turns into a bird at will

- Gregory Gregory. Gregory, turns into a bird at will

- Sally Acachalla, turns into a “demon” when frustrated

- All Gingarians have two forms that they somewhat alternate between.

- Johnny Ghost/Jimmy Casket, turns into a serial killer at random

- Princeton Quagmire/Jimmy Casket, ditto

- Light Zeron, ditto

- Billy Acachalla, kinda turns into a bird.

- Papa Acachalla, TURNS INTO ANOTHER PERSON (JOSE JOSE JOSE JOSE) ON MONDAY MIDNIGHTS BECAUSE OF A CURSE.

Some of these are more werewolf-y than others. If any of these were wolves, it would qualify. Except maybe billy.

[rebeccathenaturalist]

Living With Dangerous Animals

Originally posted at my blog at https://rebeccalexa.com/living-with-dangerous-animals/

I recently read Richard Louv’s excellent book, Our Wild Calling: How Connecting With Animals Can Transform Our Lives–And Save Theirs. I was a bit worried it would dive too deeply into the sort of anthropomorphization that makes us lose what makes each species unique as we try to interpret them through our own biases, but I found Louv managed to walk that line between skepticism and wonder quite nicely. Near the end, he talked a bit about Harry Greene’s take on rewilding, particularly how to do it thoroughly you need to factor in the reintroduction of dangerous animals, which is often treated as a NIMBY sort of situation:

“Conservation shouldn’t be something other people do and pay for; it should be pursued everywhere in ways that share the costs and the dangers and the delights. ‘I’ve spent most of my career trying to get people to care about snakes, even rattlesnakes,” [Greene] said. “To a degree, I think I’ve succeeded.’ The key to this success is ‘telling the truth about snakes. It’s the same way with other dangerous animals: you have to tell the truth about them’ and then practice old and new methods of nurturing participation–and deeper connection and empathy with them. Answering this call will require empathetic understanding not only of other animals but of people as well.” (Louv, p. 250)

This all stems from discussion about the reintroduction of “large animals who could kill us.” It’s one thing to think about the reintroduction of gray wolves (Canis lupus) to Yellowstone National Park, where they have plenty of room to avoid tourists and are often only seen for a few scant moments through spotting scopes. It’s another to consider the possibility of gray wolves that currently live in the north Cascades in Washington wandering their way west, across I-5, and into the Olympic Peninsula–perhaps even down into the Willapa Hills. Considering we had a verified sighting of a wolverine (Gulo gulo) on the Long Beach Peninsula a couple of years ago, it’s not entirely out of the question, though dispersing wolves have generally stayed in less populated areas.

Right now, the three biggest predatory animals here are black bears (Ursus americanus), cougars (Felis concolor), and coyotes (Canis latrans). Generally these animals are shy enough to run when confronted, and actual conflicts with humans are quite rare. But historic range maps also show gray wolves and brown bears (Ursus arctos) in the area. Wolf attacks on humans in recent times are exceptionally rare, and though brown bears are a much more serious threat than their smaller black bear cousins, most conflicts arise from an animal being startled or a mother defending cubs.

But the risk is not zero, and that makes a lot of people hesitant to embrace these animals in the same way they might welcome a reintroduced Oregon silverspot butterly (Speyeria zerene hippolyta) or California condor (Gymnogyps californianus). Folks in areas where these large predators are still common, like many areas in Alaska, tend to have a good understanding of how to coexist with them, and many people who move there do so because they want more wilderness in their lives. (Not that there aren’t those na��ve enough to try to Disneyfy nature, or obstinate enough to want to wipe out the last holdouts of wild predators. But that’s another post for another time.)

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about how to facilitate better relations between western, civilized, often urbanized Homo sapiens, and the rest of nature. And I came to the conclusion that it starts with us setting aside our ego. Through culture, mythos, religion, economics, and more, we have written the story of the world in which we are at the top of the heap, and all other beings exist solely to serve us. It’s a very convenient tale, and of course we the writers place ourselves in the most favorable light, whether that’s innocent victim of evil wilderness creatures, or the brave savior vanquishing these dangerous animals and their harsh environs.

But we know deep down that we aren’t always the victors. From the time our Australopithecine ancestors became bipedal, to modern day shock headlines blowing any injurious or fatal human-wildlife conflict into a Major Story (TM), we have plenty of examples of how we are sometimes the losers in that particular fight. While I feel safe going out for solo hikes in remote areas in the Pacific Northwest, I know that it is in part due to the fact that I am much less likely to run into large, dangerous animals than I would have been two centuries ago. Watching my step for rattlesnakes isn’t quite the same as keeping an eye out for a startled grizzly bear or a starving, desperate cougar trying their luck with me.

And that, to me, is humbling. I don’t write myself as the brave conqueror of desolate wilderness as a way of justifying the massive ecological and cultural damage we’ve done to this and other lands. Instead, it’s a reminder that we basically had to wipe out any animal we saw as inconvenient in order to see the land as suitable for us to live on, and we weren’t brave or strong or smart enough to effectively live with them. Extermination is, to my mind, a coward’s way out, especially now when we have much more technology at our disposal to keep us safe from other beings without lethal actions.

Still, this brings us back to the fact that reintroducing large, dangerous animals to an area does raise the risk of people being injured or killed at least a tiny amount. And I’m not just talking about the predatory ones, but herbivores like moose (Alces alces) and American bison (Bison bison). The Facebook group Yellowstone National Park: Invasion of The Idiots™! is an ongoing record of incidents involving tourists getting much too close to the megafauna simply because they don’t seem to grok the dangers involved in approaching these seemingly “docile” animals. The most infamous may have been the 2020 incident where a woman got much too close to a herd of bison and received what may be the world’s most-viewed pantsing (spoiler–she was fine, luckily for her) but each tourist season brings a whole new slew of similar conflicts.

This, of course, does not bode well for the possibility of rewilding even more remote lands with potentially dangerous animals. Of course there are going to be people getting injured or killed even in communities that are very well-versed at coexisting with local wildlife. But here in the U.S. nature illiteracy is so incredibly rampant that there’s going to have to be a lot of re-learning of things that should be common sense. Our perceived separation from the rest of nature has made us complacent and, quite honestly, ignorant.

I don’t think we should plan to just sacrifice a certain number of ill-prepared individuals in the process of rewilding. Instead, it’s going to take an incredible amount of education, both before and after the reintroduction of a potentially dangerous animal species. We’re already seeing some pretty good efforts around trying to educate people about how to live with critters that frequently live in close proximity to many people, especially those that a lot of people fear such as spiders or snakes. I’ve done my best to try to share information on topics like living with coyotes, or how to keep domestic dogs from starting or exacerbating conflicts with wildlife. And people who do live in the same areas as wolves and brown bears share information on the best ways to coexist with their wild neighbors.

Finally, I do want to point out that the route to coexistence is going to vary from place to place, depending on its suite of dangerous animals. Australia may not have grizzlies, but they have some of the most venomous snakes, spiders, and even octopi. And while those of us in urban areas in the U.S. may be pretty insulated from the most risky of wildlife, billions of people worldwide live side by side with animals that can–and occasionally do–kill them. So the discussion of whether to rewild or not has a great deal of privilege associated with it, and that conversation needs to be deeply entwined with the people who will be most affected in a given place, as well as people who have spent many years working on ways to help people adjust to coexisting with wildlife.

Though the pathway to rewilding isn’t going to be an easy one, it’s something we need to be discussing now more than ever. As wildlife populations are recovering (both with and without human assistance) and species begin to return to places where they were once extirpated, we cannot just let the kneejerk “kill them all” reaction be the only prevailing voice. We’ve already seen the ecological devastation that resulted from that brute-force tactic, and we need something more nuanced that protects us, but not at the expense of wholesale slaughter of entire species. We can–and must–do better than that.

Did you enjoy this post? Consider taking one of my online foraging and natural history classes, checking out my other articles, or picking up a paperback or ebook I’ve written! You can even buy me a coffee here!

[xiyouyanyi]

JotG S2: The Ramifications

-SWK didn't leave MK to go on a vacation. Well, he tried to say so, but MK interrupted him and asked him if he could go to the Celestial Realm instead, to check on the two immortals who helped them out. And he was like "Yep, that just happened to be my first stop!"

"I don't want them to be in trouble. They…okay, one of them isn't the nicest person, but she still helped me out. Hopefully they won't. But if they do get into trouble, would you like, help them back? For me?" "Sure bud, don't worry. I'll keep an eye out."

-In truth, he got a summon from Thunder Bureau, and proceeded to spend most of S2 lying skillfully in court, trying to conceal his disciple's existence from prying eyes and get a lighter sentence for their helpers, while also bringing attention to the more urgent issue that was LBD.

-He paid a visit to Kui Mulang, now imprisoned inside a much more secure cell, with Thunder Nails stabbed through his shoulder blades. A harsh exchange ensued: SWK pried for intel about Ivory Lady the Ghostly Immortal, Kui Mulang responded with a series of mockeries and scathing remarks, before tossing out this bombshell. 

"I'll tell you everything I know, if you tell me what happened to my children." The Wood Wolf Star said, eyes hidden under the shadow casted by his messy, blood-soaked mane. "The Great Sage is capable of some exquisite destruction, but I do not believe, for a second, that he is a child killer." "...Even if they are alive, do you seriously think you can still get back into their lives? That they'll ever want you in their lives, after what you'd done to their mother?"  "Ah, so they are alive." "..." "I'm not asking where they are. Only what happened to them." Kui Mulang continued. "In exchange, you get to know all about that ghastly acquaintance of mine. Deal?"

-The Dumpling Destruction episode got slightly adjusted to suit the new "court case" scenario: it wasn't the Four Devarajas’ fault, but one of the Four Thunder Generals——Deng, Xin, Zhang, Tao.

-See, having a bunch of thunder and lightning-wielding guys be both judges, lawyers, SWAT teams, and executioners tend to make your average court case…quite heated.

-And during one of those heated arguments that lasted from the Thunder Bureau official halls all the way to the dining room next door, someone imbued their breakfast with Thunderfire and threw it at the other guy, who dodged just in time; the flaming dumpling flew out of the window and fell through the clouds, straight toward the Lower Realm.

-Like, it was still regular dumpling-sized, but that wasn't gonna matter because Thunderfire was more high-grade explosives than flames, and the impact was still enough to flatten half of the city. 

-In fact, searching for this tiny, free-falling object just made the mission even harder, and the first thing people noticed on the ground wasn't the dumpling, but the roaring thunder that accompanied dozens of winged generals as they combed through the sky, desperately looking for the offending object on Lord Wen's orders.

-SWK told MK what all the fuss was about via astral projection, then went back to breaking up the fight in the dining hall, because yes, after casually tossing a mini-nuke out of the window, these four were still engaging in their violent legal debate. 

-Lord Wen wondered, for the billionth time in his life, if one of the Taisui gods or someone in the Dipper Mansion really had it out for him, then sighed and ordered Hanzhi's temporary release, just so the Wind Bureau could assist in the search too.

-Mei, being part of the West Sea dragon clan, was obliged to help out any Celestial Bureaus involved in weather creation by virtue of an ancient accord. She wasn't too happy about it, as MK and Tang set off to find something in FFM's vault that could create a protective barrier over the city, in case the others all failed their spot checks.

-I'm making some tweaks to the treasures we are collecting, mostly by replacing them with ones from FSYY. Instead of the Demon-revealing Mirror, we have the Yin-Yang Mirror(阴阳镜) of Chijing Zi, and instead of the Crimson Jimweed, we are looking for the Chaihu Grass of Shennong.

-Since the full Yin-Yang Mirror is too OP, in this AU, it was split into its white and red halves: the white half can insta-kill anything with a soul, the red half can revive whatever the white half killed, and FFM's vault only got the red one, which was useless on its own.

-Also, instead of Guanyin's vase, the treasure they were looking for was a crystalline vase containing the Divine Water of Triple Light(三光神水)——a substance that could transform ordinary water into a self-regenerating magical barrier, also from FSYY.

-But Tang, who thought "that other God-Demon novel" was boring and not as well-written as JTTW (true), didn't know that. He still found it despite looking for the wrong vase the entire time, while pursued by Spider Queen's minions; a truly incredible feat. 

-The Thunderfire-imbued dumpling was found by Mei and neutralized safely in midair via Hanzhi's tornado, seconds after the Divine Water barrier went up.

-All four Thunder Generals received fifty lashes, on top of the beatdown they received from SWK. Hanzhi, being the natural gossiper she was, revealed her "on parole until mission's over" situation, as well as SWK's involvement in the court case to Mei.

-Of course, Mei told MK, which…only added to his guilt and anxiety. Come Minor Scale, this also changed LBD's approach: instead of telling him that SWK left because he picked the wrong successor, she focused on how his mentor had to clean up his mess, that maybe SWK didn't tell him all the truth for a good reason——he just couldn't be trusted with it.

-One question remained: why was LBD trying to rebuild the Bone Mech, when it could no longer be a vessel for one of the Ten Kings post-deification, and even if it could, the dead Shang kings would not have answered the calls of anyone who wasn't a direct descendant of theirs?

-Because it is less about the soul they are pulling out of the Underworld, and more about creating a passage between the world of the living and the dead, which is why she needed the staff.

-As Yu the Great's extendable ruler, not only can it change its size and length at will, it can also command the Water element as a whole——including the water of the Underworld rivers, the Nine Springs.

-So LBD is using the Bone Mech to create a canal between the two realms, then using the staff to draw the Nine Springs through. Which, like everything Underworld, is the purest Yin-aligned substance you can find, and reacts with Yang-aligned energy in unusual ways: in this case, it creates a living, growing ice that encases Yang-aligned entities upon contact.

-This is how the Ice Hells are constructed: every wall, every floor, is made of condemned souls of the deceased. But unlike in the Underworld, where the flow of Yang energy is predictable, controllable, and quite weak in strength, when the same water enters the mortal realm where Yang energy is so abundant, it just grows and grows and insta-freezes everything it touches.

-With the reverse-flooding also came tons of ghosts, finally escaping their confinement in the Eighteen Hells, but honestly, that was the least of everyone's worries. 

[roadandruingame]

RaR Musings #1: Fantasy Races

'Race' has been a charged topic in fiction, but it kind of feels like it skipped past "All creatures capable of communication and self-awareness should be treated with the same kindness and respect, full stop".

We collectively agree that elves live for hundreds or thousands of years, and that merfolk live underwater, but we seem to draw the line at whether a made-up species separated by lifespan, breathing apparatus, or even planet or galaxy or dimension of origin can be considered to be on-average stronger, tougher, or smarter than a human being. Were only we to have such defenders about whether vampires drink blood, maybe more of them could work on sparkling their way through their umpteenth immortal year of highschool.

Fantasy-race sensitivity seems steeped in how human they appear, and whether we can have children with them or not. Tolkien reasoned that half-elves exist as both were created by Illuvatar, but there are no fervent defenders of half-dwarves because dwarves were created by a different god, and thus were incompatible. Since, there have been a wave of Green-Skinned Space Babes, bedecked with horns, tails, wings, and all manner of Deviantart-level OC design, largely dependent on sex appeal, with all others are relegated for monster*uckers and furries to enjoy.

_________

I'd wanted Road and Ruin to have a fairly diverse race cast, but balance has a funny way of getting in the way of whether a wolf, talking or otherwise, can hold their own against a dragon, much less the warriors and wizards who usually slay them.

The answer, it continues to appear, is that you don't.

In the first place, balance is kind of the antithesis of a good story. You don't need to crack out the ruler and calculator and give the audience explicit insight into HOW powerful the participants are, to tell the story of David and Goliath, or Journey to the West, or Marvel's Endgame. The underdog is only compelling when brutally unbalanced, insurmountable odds are overcome.

For this to happen in a game, impossibilities need to be factored in via dice, but dice tend not to have the greatest sense of narrative timing. Pesky 1s and 20s seem to pop up when you least need them, and be nowhere to be seen at the dramatic climax. Very unreliable, very sloppy of them.

But balance is still important. It allows players to accurately intuit their capabilities, for designers to construct appropriate challenges, and ensure that no one player is able to hog the spotlight away from everyone else.

So the question is, if slaying the dragon is the only challenge in the game, then what in god's name are you doing adding a wolf to the mix if it has no way to contribute?

In the same way, if a story REQUIRES that you are able to slay orcs, why would you bring along four hobbits?

Fantasy racial disparities sort of rely on pushing all those races through the same gauntlet of challenges. Forcing them to compete for the same medal is a very easy way to look down on any race that can't get gold in something, but most games don't reward a trophy for Best Jam In The Shire.

If Road and Ruin is a game about storytelling, 'balance' becomes an obstacle. If the quest is reaching something on the top shelf, humans seem unbalanced, and if the puzzle is solved by fitting through a narrow space, halflings and gnomes appear overpowered. But by forcing everyone to compete for the same dragon-slaying stats, race advocates for fantasy games are actually doing more harm than good.

_________

To this end, Road and Ruin aims to have a more metered approach to genetic traits, traits that will appear not just for different races, but different animals, spirits, gods and demons, and shapeshifting abilities.

Rather than measure each race merely as a bundle of numbers, different races will have the opportunity to choose traits, with each trait presenting an Advantage, and a Disadvantage, with some races having unique traits, while others are able to stack the same trait multiple times.

So, not all dragonborn can breathe fire; some might be bad at it, others might be good at it. Gnomes have a genetic potential to be blinding geniuses, but they also could be of middling-human intelligence. Even a human might just be of shorter size, or be unable to swim, or have weaker eyesight, but convert that into some other kind of bonus. Or not! Not everything will be quantified in a perfectly balanced way, but also, it will demand to know "balanced at what".

There's a very good reason why halflings are not typically an adventuring sort of folk.

[sfarticles]

Places, people and delicious food are main ingredients of Worth Tasting: Culinary Weekend in Paradise

Editor’s Note:Chris Bartlett, co-founder and co-host of Worth Tasting, contributed to this column

Food, the love language of travel, most times, stands the test of time, and more importantly, remains central to the many memories we conjure up, surrounding the places we visit and explore.  There is something about food and passion that naturally goes together like chocolate and peanut butter or rice and beans.  Whether we are heading somewhere farther away or planning a more localized day trip, food and beverage will always be the greatest common denominator that most defines both the people and the places where we spend the precious free time our lives afford us.

Oftentimes, food is the best part of any trip we take. The food-tourism industry is relatively new. In the book, “Have Fork Will Travel,” by Erik Wolf defines it as “the pursuit and enjoyment of unique and memorable food and drink experiences, both near and far.”

Seriously, who doesn’t relish an eclectic and tantalizing food festival . . .?  How about a delish international dish anyone?  Can you even say food trucks without thinking about what you might order at the next take-out window you find yourself standing in front of . . . From restaurants and local markets to food-production factories, cooking classes and culinary walking tours, most of us cannot get enough of these kinds of experiences both at home, and on the road.

Today, destination marketing organizations are curating beer, wine, cheese and even chocolate trails.  They can be very specific, considering these: BBQ Trail in Mississippi, Pimento Cheese Trail in South Carolina, Pepperoni Trail in West Virginia, the Bourbon Trail in Kentucky, and Pennsylvania’s Pickled: A Fermented Trail. There’s even a hotel with culinary-inspired designs throughout the property, complete with an epicurean theatre; in other words, a paradise for foodies.

I can still recall so many memories of what and where we ate, on my first-ever culinary-walking tour in Portland, Oregon, some 15-plus years ago.  Perhaps the only thing hotter than that 104-degree day, was my instantaneous passion and fervor, to not only go on tours such as this one everywhere I could find them (way less tours existed back then), but to launch a tour in my current home city of New Haven, Connecticut, where I had recently began a stint as a food columnist for the New Haven Register. The column was the ideal vehicle for me to share my passion for culinary travel experiences. It enabled me to celebrate the talented chefs and share their stories with each of my columns. Thus, Worth Tasting, a Culinary-Walking Tour of Downtown New Haven was born and took its first group through the Elm City’s streets, to markets, restaurants, and specialty food shops. The tour’s co-founder and co-host, Chris Bartlett, had a vision to expand, beyond the New Haven tour. Many people have written, asking how they might “live” the culinary travel features I write.

Voila, Worth Tasting Weekends is launching, which has its premiere weekend set for October 20-23 at The Addison on Amelia Island, Florida. It seems people cannot get enough food and culinary outings; thus the industry has quickly sophisticated to offer myriad, themed-food-and-specialty-beverage tours and getaways globally.  From local and regional culinary-walking tours to weekend food festivals and themed excursions, it seems now is the time to dive into trying one of these out, and it doesn’t matter if you are foodie or simply enjoy sharing time together with friends and family, experiencing one of life’s simple pleasures…food.

Before I delve deeper into the upcoming Worth Tasting: Culinary Weekend in Paradise, here are some of the culinary tours in Greater Philadelphia. I cannot encourage you enough to give one of these a try – it will change your feelings on how to experience food from different neighborhoods to a city at large.

  City Food Tours https://www.phillysfoodtour.com/

·        StrEATS of Philly Food

Tours https://www.streatsofphillyfoodtours.com/tour/

·        Chew Philly Food Tours 215-600-4891

·        Philly Food Tours (814) 430-3026

·        Tiny Table Tours https://www.tinytabletours.com/

·        Philly Food Adventures https://www.phillyfoodadventures.com/

·        Secret Food Tours https://www.secretfoodtours.com/philadelphia/

·        City Brew Tours https://www.citybrewtours.com/philadelphia/

Now, if you travel through Pennsylvania, beyond Greater Philadelphia, to explore food landmarks across the state, a copy of Pennsylvania “Good Eats: Exploring the State’s Favorite, Unique, Historic, and Delicious Foods,” by Brian Yarvin (2021, Globe Pequot, $21.95) is a must. The author writes, “it’s the right time to take a fresh look at what Pennsylvania eats.”

If a fall trip is on your agenda, then plan a weekend in paradise; Worth Tasting: An Exciting Tasting Tour on Amelia Island. You’ll  spend the weekend in historic downtown Fernandina Beach, FL on Amelia Island learning the secrets of creating food boards to enjoy at the inn as well as ideas to take home to share and prepare for family and friends. The culinary weekend includes a 3-course breakfast each morning at the inn, lunch on Saturday and Sunday, an evening social hour with complimentary beer, wine, and non-alcoholic beverages Friday, Saturday, and Sunday at the inn, dinner Friday night at a local brewery plus Sunday night at España Restaurant and Tapas. There’s more…a culinary walking tour in the historic district, a visit to the farmers market to pick up the freshest items to make beautiful food boards and a luncheon at Story & Song, a two-story bookstore followed by a cookbook market. Attendees will also receive a copy of a cookbook featuring food boards. For a detailed itinerary and reservations visit bit.ly/3QXgI4j

The inn’s three Antebellum-style buildings surround a courtyard, fountain, and charming gardens. Lisa West, owner of the inn with her husband Ron, said, “the inn blends the elegance of a bygone era with the modern amenities and conveniences the discriminating traveler expects.” By the way, Lisa hails from the Philadelphia area, and looks forward to catching up on what’s going on in her hometown when you visit. Watch my interview with Lisa here https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rOIs2pn2qUk

Complimentary bikes to explore Fort Clinch and/or Eagan’s Creek are available at the inn. A block away is Center Street, where you can check out boutiques, shops, museums galleries and of course food, that is if you are still hungry with all the food included during the weekend.

I look forward to having you join me to experience much of what I wrote about The Addison on Amelia Island and Fernandina Beach, earlier in the year. Check out the website below and be the first to know about other destinations as they are rolled out by subscribing to the blog.

Stephen Fries, is Professor Emeritus and former coordinator of the Hospitality Management Programs at Gateway Community College, in New Haven, CT. He has been a food and culinary travel columnist for the past 15 years and is co-founder of and host of “Worth Tasting,” a culinary walking tour of downtown New Haven, CT. He is a board member of the International Association of Culinary Professionals. Stephen@stephenfries.com For more, go to stephenfries.com.

[ink-and-sheet]

Chapter Three- Unknown visitor

Looking at the murderous tension in Thor's eyes, I heard a loud growl and eyed the wolf slowly approaching us with his eyes on Thor.

"Stay back and don't attack!" I ordered, looking back into Thor's cold gaze.

When he squeezed my neck a bit tighter, I clawed my nails into the back of his hand, causing him to loosen his grip around my throat a little, and I mumbled, "Can you let go of me, please!"

With his gaze fixed solely on mine, a look of hesitation clouded Thor's face, and his grip on my neck loosened a bit more.

"Thank you. Now, what I came here to say is that I want to get you out of this place," I whispered, clearing my throat aggressively to stabilize my breath.

Slowly, Thor's expression started to soften, and he drew back, a few distances away from me.

After standing to my feet, I gently rubbed my neck to get rid of the aching feeling and then turned around, sensing Thor's eyes on me as I walked away.

"Get him out of this filthy place and take him to the west wind. Also, have Arthritis check on his wounds!" I commanded as I marched out of the cells.

The moment I arrived in my room, I slammed the door shut behind me, locked it, and rested against its wooden frame as my chest raised and fell rapidly.

Suddenly, the echo of a knock snapped me out of my emotions, and I drew away from the door as I mumbled, "Who is it?"

"It's Rona, my Luna!" My maid's voice flowed into the room.

"What is it?"

"Elder Dach is here to see you."

Although I didn't want to entertain anyone at such a moment, I knew that I couldn't dismiss Elder Dach because he was one of my uncle's trusted advisors.

"Tell him to wait on me in the garden!" I called out, feeling a bit calmer now.

After the sound of Rona's footsteps faded down the hallway, I walked over to the mirror and gently stroked my neck, noticing that there was no mark.

Suddenly a flash of Thor's face crossed my mind, and I inhaled, holding in my breath before slowly exhaling.

I don't know what the heck happened back in that cell, but images of Thor kept hunting my mind, and underneath all the feeling of fear and stress, I felt something else when I remember him.

After getting my emotions under control, I met Elder Dach seated in the Eve garden, and I joined him on the stone bench, inhaling the air filled with sweet fragrances from the flowers.

Even though I could feel his eyes on me, I kept my gaze ahead and mumbled, "What news do you bring me, Elder Dach?"

"My Luna, both alphas of the Aurora Clan and Cruelcrest Hounds are interested in your hands. They would like to have a one on one meet-up with you to see if your wolves are compatible and a bond exists between you two." Elder Dach said with a trace of excitement in his voice.

The moment I heard those words, I felt reluctant. Why? I pretended not to know, refusing to acknowledge my feelings.

"Both Alphas have a prominent pack and territories. It will be great for our pack if you were mated to any one of them." Elder Dach said after I didn't speak for a while.

"Hmmh," I mumbled, wondering how to respond to his words.

"We know that you are still young, that's while we have been keeping things from you. But there's a war uprising, and rogues from the Storm Riders Pack are bringing the downpour to us. We need to be ready for it!"

"I know."

The thought of war at the beginning of my leadership of the pack scared me a bit even though my uncle didn't spoil me to the extent that I didn't know how to fight. But this was a battle between two packs they were talking about, and I wasn't ready for that.

"We need to ally with another pack through marriage if we are going to win this war against the Storm Riders Pack." Elder Dach said as my gaze unintentionally lacked with his, and he frowned.

"Do you have to talk like that? It's not certain that a war is going to happen." I mumbled beneath my breath in annoyance.

"Who has lived longer days and seen more nights between you and me?!"

"You,"

"Then listen to me when I tell you my Luna that a war will happen, and we need the alliance to win it."

Gazing into his eyes, I took a long stare at him and mumbled in my head, 'Then why can't we just make an alliance with the Storm Riders Pack so peace can rain?' Yet, my lips remained sealed.

"Did you meet the prisoner today?" Elder Dach asked, sounding a bit calmer now.

"Mmmh," I mumbled as I withdrew my gaze from him and focused on the sky.

Silence fell between us for a moment. Then Elder Dach stood to his feet, looked down at me, and said, "I hope my Luna can put the well-being of the pack first and not be emotional about this."

After another long boring day of running about my duties, I headed back to my chamber and went straight into the bathroom.

My body felt depleted as I got undressed, and then got into the tub, feeling a bit better when the warm water soaks upon my skin.

Picking up Rona's scent in my room, I looked to my right and saw her approaching me.

"Do you want me to wait on you and dress you tonight?" Rona asked with a smile.

"There's no need. You can leave my clothes on the stool." I mumbled, relaxing my head as I stared at the ceiling.

After Rona left, I shut my eyes, and I saw Alpha Thor's face so clearly in my head, and I immediately raised my eyelids.

My first time seeing Thor, and an image of him has already forcefully imprinted itself in my brain. I would have avoided looking into his eyes if I knew that his stare was going to be my fantasy.

For someone who has been in captivity when I was only a pup, he has such a strong aura, more powerful than most alpha that I have met.

Frustrated, I blind my eyes with my palm as I wondered why I couldn't get him out of my mind.

After leaving out of the tub, I got dressed into my nightgown and headed to bed. But the moment I shut my eyes to sleep, I felt a presence in my room, and my lashes immediately rouse.

[veganpropaganda]

When foodies sink their teeth into a slab of cheese from one of the historic dairy farms in Point Reyes, California, their minds probably run to grass-fed cows ranging free on the lush green oceanside hills of Marin County. Over 5,000 dairy cows and beef cattle roam the Point Reyes National Seashore National Park in full view of visiting tourists. Unlike the many dairy and meat companies that slap happy animals on their labels while sourcing their product from hellish factory farms, the dairy and beef farms at Point Reyes represent an agrarian ideal of ecologically and ethically sustainable animal agriculture.

“Pasture-raised” and “extensive” or “regenerative” grazing have been watchwords in the American foodie community since at least the 2000s, when celebrated food writer Michael Pollan presented sustainable, nonindustrial practices as a way out of the ethical morass of the American food system in his award-winning bestseller The Omnivore’s Dilemma. Everyone from progressive agrarians to libertarian ranchers to multinational food companies, and even conservation NGOs such as the Audubon Society, has thrown their weight behind the idea of replacing mass-produced meat, from chickens to ungulates, with a holistically raised alternative. While some environmentalists reject beef altogether for its contribution to climate change, pollution, and deforestation, proponents of free-ranging beef have rallied under the motto, “It’s not the cow; it’s the how.” They argue that, done properly, pasture-raised cattle can replace the ecological functions of wild ruminants like elk and bison, produce food on “marginal” land that would otherwise be wasted, and eliminate beef’s carbon hoofprint (since well-grazed land can sequester atmospheric carbon dioxide). This would mean consumers could stick it to Big Ag, fight climate change, and help imperiled animals and ecosystems without actually changing their diets too much; they’d just need to eat a bit less meat and pay a bit more for the grass-fed option.

Whether these promises hold up under scrutiny is a subject of fierce debate. And in recent years, a series of lawsuits have argued the opposite thesis: that even “regenerative” cattle imperil the very ecosystems proponents claim they will “regenerate.”

This past June, the Harvard Animal Law and Policy Clinic, on behalf of the Animal Legal Defense Fund and a number of individual plaintiffs, filed suit against the Department of the Interior and the National Park Service, which manages Point Reyes National Park, alleging that cattle ranching is endangering the iconic tule elk.* It’s not the first such lawsuit that has been filed over the past decade against the NPS to stop alleged environmental damage from Point Reyes cows.

The National Park Service leases parkland to a number of “historic” cattle and dairy farms, which it has done since the park’s creation in 1962. The elk, native to the region but driven to near-extinction by hunting and human activities such as ranching, are protected by a 1976 federal conservation law and were reintroduced to the park in 1978. But to keep the elk from competing with cattle for forage and water, the NPS erected fences that confine the elk to select corners of the park with limited water and forage. This confinement has proved fatal during droughts. Drought in 2013–2014 led to 254 elk deaths. A current drought has already killed over 150 elk, a third of the once 445-strong herd that inhabits Tomales Point, all just a stone’s throw away from thriving commodity cows. Ranchers have even pushed for the right to cull elk outright to keep their populations in check, in part because they have also killed off the natural predators that would do so in a healthy ecosystem. The Harvard suit alleges that “the Tule elk are continuing to die horrific and preventable deaths” in clear violation of federal law.

Prior to the twentieth century, the tule elk were an important part of the Pacific coastal ecosystem and a major component of the diet of the Coast Miwok tribe, the native peoples who lived there. In fact, the NPS concedes that the region’s characteristic hilly grasslands were “the byproduct of burning, weeding, pruning and harvesting for at least two millennia by Coast Miwok and their antecedents.” These grasslands made a juicy target for white settlers arriving in the middle of the nineteenth century. They brought cattle with them, plundered the Coast Miwok lands, hunted large predators and elk to near-extinction, and then grazed their cattle on the hills instead. The intertwined processes of colonial and ecological displacement have continued into the twenty-first century: In 2015, the NPS balked at a proposed “Indigenous Archaeological District” that would have protected Coast Miwok heritage sites from damage from ranching. Even as it did so, it quickly approved a “Historic Dairy Ranching District,” over and against Miwok protests. Today, many Coast Miwok are opposed to the rancher-backed plan to fence and further cull the elk. “The Park Service proposal to shoot indigenous tule elk and promote ranching that harms wildlife, water and habitat is a travesty and contrary to the traditions of our ancestors,” Jason Deschler, dance captain and headman with the Coast Miwok Tribal Council of Marin, wrote this summer in a statement opposing the cull.

The cows at Point Reyes don’t just compete with the elk. They also defecate about 130 million pounds of nitrogen-rich manure a year, which leaches into the soil and streams and ponds of the area. An NPS-funded study suggested that removal of the cows would benefit numerous native species, including butterflies, seabirds, frogs, and salmon. And yet the same study recommended the expansion of ranching. As a damning investigative report into the issue in the Marin County Pacific Sun suggests, the ranchers and dairy farmers have urged pliant politicians, including Senator Dianne Feinstein, to “pressur[e] the Park Service to prioritize the preservation of private ranching profits over environmental concerns.”

Point Reyes is a microcosm of a much broader anti-wildlife bent in American ranching, regenerative and otherwise. To protect their cows from predators and disease, or simply to ensure that they have access to food and water, ranchers across the country have supported wolf hunts, vulture and wild horse culls, and the deployment of cyanide bombs. It is difficult to count the number of wild animals killed in the service of ranching interests by government bodies like the Agriculture Department’s secretive Wildlife Services, the Bureau of Land Management, and various state-level farm bureaus, but about a million animals per year is the federal government’s own estimate.

Unlike wild animals such as elk, ranched cattle are commodities in a global market. And the goals of commodity production run directly counter to those of a functional ecosystem. In the wild, ungulates like bison or elk range across vast swathes of land, serving all sorts of ecosystem functions just by living: rooting, trampling, defecating, dying and decomposing, serving as food for predators and carrion birds and insects, nourishing other animals and the soil in death as their hooves did in life. Commodity production, be it conventional or regenerative, removes animals like cows from this web of life, using fencing and predator extermination to protect grazers from harm so that they can be profitably sold. In place of that natural web, ranching also requires an economic and material infrastructure to breed, manage, slaughter, process, and transport cattle as they are transformed into beef or milked. Even with the best of ecological intentions, ranchers who want their business to survive must build and maintain that infrastructure according to commercial principles.

The capitalist assumptions pervading these enterprises are clearest when regenerative proponents promise to be able to extract food from so-called “marginal” lands. Conventionally defined, “marginal land” is land that has little current agricultural or industrial value, often because of poor soil, water resources, or climate conditions. What ranchers mean is that grazing cattle can extract value, in the form of commoditized beef, from dry, rocky, difficult to access lands. Of course, such lands are only “marginal” from an instrumental, Lockean view that all land must be worked to create value. But from a biodiversity and ecosystem health perspective, so-called marginal lands can be thriving, biodiverse habitats for myriad flora and fauna, which can be disrupted by the introduction of grazers.

Historically, even land that is home to human beings has been deemed “marginal” if its value cannot be commoditized. As historian Joshua Specht shows, ranchers have historically been the spear tip of settler colonialism in the American West. They often used the pretext of “waste” and “emptiness” to violently uproot Indigenous lifeways and ecosystems and replace them with “productive” commercial ranching. The Coast Miwok Tribal Council of Marin linked that history of dispossession to the plan to cull the elk in a letter to Secretary of the Interior Deb Haaland, describing it as “a travesty … that perpetuates a long legacy of harm inflicted on Native People by the National Park Service.”

The idea of converting “marginal” or unused land is basically a promise to produce something from nothing. All too often, that simply means that the costs are hidden. Increasingly, environmental research suggests that while introducing grazers to marginal lands can be economically generative for those who own the grazers, it is degenerative of previously existing ecosystems. A recent meta-analysis in the journal Ecology Letters, for example, found that excluding commercial agricultural grazers increases the abundance of plant and faunal biodiversity in most ecosystems. That’s because most livestock are managed at densities that dramatically exceed those of wild fauna. In fact, the Center for Biological Diversity recently won a lawsuit that will force the Forest Service and the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service to protect sensitive ecosystems within New Mexico’s Gila National Forest and Arizona’s Apache-Sitgreaves National Forest from free-ranging cows.

Over the past two decades, proponents of “regenerative” grazing have increasingly justified cattle agriculture by claiming their methods reduce ruminants’ contribution to climate change: Currently, the world’s cows, by belching out methane, contribute about 6 percent percent of all greenhouse gases. (Many note that cows “only” contribute 3 percent of U.S. emissions, but this is only because of America’s massive total emissions.) Regenerative ranching proponents claim, however, that by turning over and fertilizing the soil where they graze, free-ranging ruminants create healthy soil that can act as a carbon sink.

One of the biggest drivers of this claim has been the work of the rancher Allan Savory, made famous through a viral TED talk in 2013. But Savory’s claims have little peer-reviewed support and seem to fail under scrutiny. “The Savory Method Can Not Green Deserts or Reverse Climate Change,” five researchers argued in a lengthy rebuttal published in the journal Rangelands that same year. In 2017, an exhaustive, 127-page study led by scholars at Oxford found that grass-fed livestock “does not offer a significant solution to climate change as only under very specific conditions can they help sequester carbon. This sequestering of carbon is even then small, time-limited, reversible and substantially outweighed by the greenhouse gas emissions these grazing animals generate.”

Studies suggest that while some forms of well-managed grazing can increase the health and productivity of soil, there is little proof that this has much impact on soil’s ability to capture carbon. To the extent that soil can act as a carbon sink, a widely-cited article in Frontiers in Climate argues that it can do so through practices like cover crop rotation, tillage, and novel soil amendments that don’t use animals at all. But cows or no cows, the idea that soil can act as a meaningful carbon sink at the scale at which global climate change currently operates is itself not entirely convincing. Removing soil from any agricultural use and allowing it to rewild, however, can create meaningful carbon sinks while protecting and restoring biodiversity; wild elk populations might plausibly do more to capture carbon than the most holistically raised cattle.

When it comes to cows, there is actually a sort of perverse climate and ethical math at play. Most of America’s 93 million cattle spend at least some of their life grazing on pasture, although many beef cattle are also fattened for slaughter in feedlots where they are fed soy- and grain-based meals. But since processed meal is easier to digest and beef cattle, on average, spend only a few of their 18-month lives at feedlots, only about 11 percent of their greenhouse gas emissions happen there. The remaining 89 percent happen when they digest rough forage and grasses on pasture. In other words, cows that graze throughout their lives actually potentially emit more than feedlot-finished ones.

Small numbers of grazers may be consistent with healthy ecosystems and have minimal greenhouse gas impact, but only if their populations stay within ecologically defined limits. The situation in Point Reyes, where ranchers have pushed the NPS to be able to use more land for grazing and prevent elk from competing with cows for food and water, illustrates exactly why that’s unlikely.

The problem of scale bedevils regenerative beef from every angle. Holistic grazing cannot hope to compete on price with Big Meat, which operates with high volumes and low margins: A pound of ground beef from a Marin County ranch can run well over $10, compared to $3.99 for mass-produced beef at Kroger. Regenerative ranching proponents often answer that consumers will opt to eat “less but better meat,” but it’s far from clear what’s going to drive that transition at the societal level. (Also worth noting: In the absence of a public agency that could define and regulate ecologically informed grazing practices, “better” meat is a little nebulous. The “regenerative” label has been affixed to so many different techniques that what exactly it means is often hard to pin down.)

As a result, “regenerative” beef currently represents not so much a scalable climate solution as a way for those who can afford to do so to purchase indulgences for their continued meat consumption. The owners of grass-fed beef ventures may market their premium-priced products as a way out of the hellscape of Western capitalistic agriculture. But absent much broader societal changes, regenerative agriculture’s anti-industrial rhetoric is more of a class marker than a call to revolution.

If regenerative agriculture were to challenge the mainstream food system, it would run into some hard physical limits. Converting the beef industry, at current levels of demand, entirely to a grass- and crop-forage feeding system would require increasing the total size of American beef herds by 23 million cows, or 30 percent, according to a recent article in the respected science journal Environmental Research Letters. And that increase, were it even possible, would have monumental consequences for both greenhouse gas outputs and land use. But there simply isn’t enough land in the U.S. for that many grazers. At best, beef production would have to decrease by 39 percent and potentially as much as 73 percent. Framed that way, grass-fed grazing, especially if scaled, doesn’t seem likely to regenerate many ecosystems—indeed, it would likely require deforestation, as is the case in Brazil, where the clear-cutting of the Amazon is driven both by soy plantations for feedlot and factory farm animal feed and by the need for grazing space for grass-fed cattle. And as the Environmental Research Letters article argued, even temporary overgrazing can lead to long-term and perhaps irreversible ecological degradation.

This list of mismatches between theory and empirics prompts an important question: Who does benefit from more demand for holistic-grazed beef? Ranchers and dairy farmers, of course. Regenerative ranching begins with the assumption that cattle must be commercially ranched and then backfills an ecological narrative to sustain that assumption, much as the NPS assumes there must be ranches in Point Reyes and then reshapes the park’s history and landscape to fit that need.

Actually making animal agriculture less ecologically disruptive would mean taking animals’ ecological value as a bedrock principle against and over their value as commodities. That means treating commodity production, not land, as “marginal”: Commodities could be extracted only if doing so didn’t disturb the ecological, social, and cultural value of the landscape. In other words, in most such systems, animals would more than likely play a minor support role for primarily plant agriculture. And that, in turn, would almost certainly mean far fewer grazers entering the commercial food system, and at a much higher price point. Point Reyes, for example, might feature free-ranging elk managed by an Indigenous best practice–driven conservation agency, not dairy cattle grazed by private ranches. This kind of truly eco-friendly meat production would produce even less meat than the current grab bag of practices loosely labeled “regenerative.”

As the elk of Point Reyes might attest, grass-fed beef and dairy are not ecologically benign. Nor are they a solution to climate change. Nor yet, in offering a more expensive alternative to industrial agriculture to those who can afford it, do they offer a clear path for reducing meat consumption society-wide. If anything, regenerative ranching lends itself either to niche locavore indulgence or large-scale corporate greenwashing, but it offers little promise for sustainable food system transformation.

Achieving more sustainable agriculture means we need to produce and eat less meat. To get there, we’ll need individuals to change their habits, but we’ll also need policy aimed specifically at reducing meat consumption through taxation, nudges toward animal-free diets, or, potentially, support for the proliferation of plant- or cell-based meat analogs. Ranchers tend to deny this, not because it is ecologically unfounded but because they are financially invested in ranching rather than regeneration.

*One of the authors of this piece is a fellow at the Harvard Animal Law and Policy Program. He is not and has never been personally involved in the Point Reyes lawsuit.

[letters-from-the-gaps]

Beowulf Liked His Mead with Spice

An essay I made while A. reading Beowulf for a class on Medieval literature and B. not backspacing as I wrote. It was wild!

I wonder how Beowulf felt when he died. Was he scared? He couldn’t have been, right? He was a proud warrior, a hero of mythical proportions. Bane of Grendel, ender of bloodlines, dragonslayer, king of the geats, and yet i cannot help but wonder what it must have been like to feel dragon’s poison stealing through his veins. Did it burn, like its progenitor did? Dragons in the west have existed as engines of calamity since their inception. Winged death, fire belched on wooden frames, the sweeping wrath of a long dead time come to burn the homes of men to a crisp.

It must have, right? Beowulf must’ve felt it scorch through him, singing his arteries and razing the capillaries that lay beneath his skin. How long did it take him to realize death had come creeping up behind him, dagger in hand? Even though the blow may have come through open battle, even if the jaws that filled the hero of the danes with venom and bile had glimmered in front of the man’s eyes before they struck, death still had to come creeping up behind him. I don’t really doubt that the only way to claim the great hero was under the cover of blinding pain. Death could not draw steel against him; Death had to creep through his veins and slow his heart from within, else the great king would have slain Death dead. Wouldn’t that have been something?

I know that Grendel was scared when he died. That’s not hard to guess. Bleeding out, bereft of an arm from fingernail to shoulder cap, fear must've run rampant over the monster’s heart as he limped back to his cave. The child of Cain, scorned of God, had gone in a single night from a terror amongst the fens to a corpse laid low. And he deserved it, to be fair. His nature was that of a petulant child, angry at the affection shown to a younger sibling. Man has faults- man is cruel, and loud, and brash, and far too skilled at violence- but man does not deserve the deaths Grendel delivered to them. 

So why do I pity him?

Imagine being in his skin; I wasn’t kidding when I called him “child of Cain, scorned of God.” His fate was written in his blood the moment his wicked feet touched soil. He was always going to end up where he did, cold and scared and empty in some cave amongst the marsh and fen. He was an animal, at the end. But do we blame the animal for what it does? We know that the great white does not enjoy the violence it occasionally and rarely inflicts upon “our”  kin, and we know that the wolf does not deserve to bleed out cold and alone and sickly because it had to eat. We know this, just as well as we know that Grendel was not an animal. He acted out of anger, out of wrath, spite and malice moved his hands as much as animal instinct. Yet we do not know if he could have understood the wrath he invited upon himself. Why do we judge him as if he were an animal yet celebrate his death the way we would a war criminal? Are those the same? Is that what I'm saying?

I guess I am. Maybe I'm saying that I agree with Grendel’s mother, nameless and monstrous as she was. Her kin lay slain and desiccated on the edge of the fens while his murderers drank and cheered in the hall, his arm mounted above the fire. Why were these danes, these men who lived by the weregild, by the idea of blood for blood, of an eye for an eye, surprised when she came in to exact her price? Grendel took many, one could argue, and so Beowulf had to avenge the singular death his Mother exacted. Did Beowulf not also take more than his share of lives, though? How much blood did the king of the geats spill? How many mothers found themselves without sons thanks to the hero of those spear-danes? If we want to be specific about how much of a blood price is to be exacted, we should apply that same eagle eye to the one holding the sword, the one who tracked a mother/monster to her home/lair to draw blood/exact justice. See? Easy to trip yourself up, isn’t it?

Why am I saying this? Why are you reading it? Why did Beowulf ask, in his dying moments, to gaze upon the wealth hoarded by his killer? Stolen wealth of stolen wealth, a treasure fit only to be scorched and entombed with their great murderer-king. So what was the point? Violence begets violence? Astute observation, said every anthropologist ever. Humans may have come into love as they figured out how to stand, but apes were born with the neural pathways required to kill each other. It’s in our blood. Your blood, I mean. Not a mistype. 

Who am I? 

Wrong question.

What am I?

Better!

Call me a shooting star. Call me Halley's comet. Call me Io, call me Titan, call me Jupiter and Phobos, call me Pluto and Siri, call me whatever you want. You won’t be close. I’m old, baby, older than old. Stardust and radiation skipping across the universe, lucky enough to lose enough speed to watch your little planet. It’s cool, up here. You might’ve seen my cousin, actually, up in the satellite wreckage, doing his little waltz with your orbital debris. Why am I here? Wrong question. You’re not going to get a right one, either, so I’ll ask one for you- why am I talking about Beowulf?

Cause it’s fun. Cause he’s the first human who looked at me and prayed to a god that’s out on vacation. Cause i looked down at him, small and bleeding and full of poison, surrounded by a thousand uncounted ghosts, and I saw someone who just needed a hug. Someone who had shouldered the immeasurable burden of being a hero without question, simply because that’s who he was. He was brave, Beowulf. Braver than brave– there’s a reason his story survived so long. Because as I watched his twelve kinsmen ride ‘round his barrow in grief and sorrow, I realized no one would ever remember Beowulf, the man who loved his mead with a little bit of spice. The only Beowulf to survive the ravages of time would be the Mythic, not the Man. 

I can see your brain working overtime to try and derive a point from all of this. Sorry to disappoint, but I don’t have one- not really. But you know what? Because you’ve been such a wonderful listener, such a captive audience, I’ll try my best to condense.

Anyone who tells you there is a universal rule for how to determine if someone deserves to die is a fucking liar, a snake, and a person with an agenda. They’re wrong. No one is born deserving to die; often, people who “deserve” to die are people who never knew how to lose momentum. Some people are seen as heroes before they’re seen as people who had favorite bedtime stories; most people who are seen as villains, as monsters, had a favorite way to order their coffee– neither of these facts change the people they became. It is important for you, sweet mortal thing that you are, to choose love, yes. A life lived in the shadow of love, in the cold of hatred or even just plain old apathy is a life lived by half measures. But you must never, ever let love leave you stepped on. Love fiercely and as often as you can; bite back by the same metrics. Know within your heart of hearts that every great hero and every reviled monster was a person before they were anything else: do not let the personhood of monsters shield them of consequences, and do not let the mythic status of heroes prevent you from showing them compassion. 

Live your life to the heights you wish to reach, little Beowulf. Die knowing that you lived it well. Go, now, back to your little blue dot. Remember this when you return: If nothing else will say it, I will love you from up here, drifting as I am. Take care, little Hominid. 

[ayuuria]

Yashahime Translation: Animage Magazine May 2021 Issue

Please do not repost this translation without my consent! This includes screenshots of any type and amount. If you wish to share this translation, simply link to this post.

For more information regarding the use of my translations, click here.

The Yashahimes’ Future

The three Yashahimes who carry both demon and human blood: Towa, Setsuna, and Moroha. The three of them have varying personalities, environments in which they were raised in, and goals for their actions. However, through the shared task of demon slaying, they slowly begin to accept one another. Though they are not a perfect “Close, in sync team”, trust has certainly budded between the girls who, together, have overcome any difficult situation. Even Kirinmaru’s attack that killed Setsuna in one stroke could not sever the bond that connects the three. Towa especially, who received a broken Tenseiga from Sesshōmaru, appears to have not yet given up on Setsuna’s life. Although it looks like the girls will still continue to face hardships in the future, we want them to clear the way to a happy future with their own hands.

“Hanyō no Yashahime” entered a short break, leaving behind many points of interest such as Setsuna’s shocking death, the broken Tenseiga entrusted to Towa, and the continued separation of Moroha and her parents. Let’s consolidate the existing mysteries and wait for the second chapter (season)!

Higurashi Towa

Faced with the death of her beloved little sister, Setsuna, her demonic blood awakens for the first time. Until now, she had been using the demon sword, Kikujūmonji, as her weapon but what is this blade… …? (referring to the promo picture for season 2)

Series Composition: Katsuyuki Sumisawa Q&A

The Yashahimes’ story with continuous ups and downs. In addition to reviewing everything up until now, please tell us about the backstory and hints to the second chapter (season)!

Q. Where do Towa, Setsuna, and Moroha normally spend the night?

A. Towa freeloads at Kaede’s house. Setsuna stays at the demon slayer’s headquarters. It’s just that she can’t sleep so she probably keeps watch outside at night. Moroha lives at the corpse shop.

Q. How far apart is Kaede’s village and the corpse shop?

A. Kaede’s village is in the land of Musashi so in terms of modern geography, imagine around Tokyo’s Nakano and Suginami ward. Compared to that, the corpse shop is in the harbor so around Shinagawa ward or maybe even Yokohama. It seems the three of them frequently met up but there’s actually quite a distance. Each of them had different goals behind their actions too.

Q. When Towa, Setsuna, and Moroha first met, how was Moroha able to figure out that the two of them were Sesshōmaru’s daughters?

A. Probably through “smell”. Sesshōmaru is well known among demons and Moroha knows that Sesshōmaru is her father’s older brother. However, Moroha still doesn’t know that Sesshōmaru is the one who trapped her parents within the black pearl.

Q. Does Moroha know her parents’ names?

A. She does. When Inuyasha and Kagome were approached by Kirinmaru and Sesshōmaru, Awa no Hachiemon (aka Hachi), the racoon dog, took Moroha to the wolf demon tribe where she was raised. That being said, Kōga probably told her.

Q. Doesn’t Moroha want to meet her parents?

A. She thinks her parents are dead. That’s why her thoughts are “There’s no point obsessing over someone who’s dead”. Hachiemon the racoon dog, didn’t watch the details of the incident to the end and assumed that “If Sesshōmaru and Kirinmaru were their opponents, they’re probably not alive now.” That’s what Moroha was told through Kōga.

Q. Why is the instrument that Setsuna plays the violin?

A. When creating the scenario, I wanted some sort of “gift” from the modern era as “something to connect the modern and feudal eras”. Therefore, I decided to give Moroha the giant backpack as Kagome’s daughter and Setsuna an instrument. In addition, an instrument that absolutely didn’t exist in the feudal era was better, so I chose the violin. There of course won’t be violins in Japan and even in the West, it had a different shape than it does now. Plus, before the current story was solidified, I had thought of a plot where the modern era was the setting so it’s a remnant of that.

Q. Did Mama Moe teach Setsuna the song she always plays on her violin?

A. While she learned how to play the violin from Mama Moe, the song was not something she learned (from her). Rather Setsuna is playing a song she once heard based off her memory. Where she heard it… please wait for the second chapter (season)!

Q. With Kanemitsu no Tomoe as a medium for Setsuna and the rouge being suggested for Moroha, each of them has had their demonic blood sealed. What about the seal for Towa’s demonic blood?

A. Towa’s is not sealed. Moreover, her demonic blood had not yet awakened. That’s where in episode 24, her demonic blood awakened for the first time with Setsuna’s death being the trigger. However, that was in an out-of-control state. Going forward, how “Sesshōmaru’s blood” flowing within her will manifest itself will be something worth noting.

Q. Why does everyone call Towa and the others “Yashahime”?

A. Ever since the spirit of the Tree of Ages called them as such in episode 4, everyone started calling them that, no matter who they spoke to. At first, even Towa and the others were like “We’re not Yashahime” or “Are you referring to us?” but as they got addressed that repeatedly, they gradually accepted the name.

Q. Kohaku’s* older sister, Kin’u, is a nun but what does his other older sister, Gyokuto, do?

*Translator’s Note: I think the publisher made a mistake and meant to say Hisui

A. She shoulders the responsibility of helping Sango create the weapons for demon slaying, delivering those weapons to the other slayers, accepting demon slaying requests around the area, and collecting information on demon sightings.

Q. Is Kirinmaru a demon of Japan?

A. No. I think talking like this will be easier to understand. Kirinmaru is one of the few greater demons who is aware that the earth is round. In that era, the only ones who have a sense of this are probably just Kagome, Towa, and Kirinmaru. Having circled the globe many times, Kirinmaru, who had traveled around the world, met the Dog General at the very end in the land at the farthest end (of the earth), Japan. Ever since then, he has remained in Japan so it could be said that he’s a demon of Japan, but his existence is on a bigger scale than that. Kirinmaru frequently reads Western books and he orders those from various places around the world. The one who buys them is Riku. Naturally, I’m sure that not only does Riku secretly read the Western books in the library, but Kirinmaru wouldn’t reproach him for such a small thing either. In episode 7, Riku called the apple a “Forbidden Fruit” but of course, I’m sure Kirinmaru has read the bible before. That’s most likely because he’s been alive since the era of myth so he may have seen Buddha or Jesus Christ in the flesh. There’s probably no way he saw Adam and Eve eat the forbidden fruit though… … (laughs).

Q. Point blank, what is the relationship between Kirinmaru and Riku? In a reflection of the past (200 years ago), it seemed Riku didn’t have any emotions. What exactly was that?

A. This will be revealed in the second chapter (season) as well but to give you a little hint, Riku started taking care of Zero after the Dog General died and as he healed her, he gradually began to have emotions. That’s why Riku’s way of thinking was influenced by Zero, such as “You have to destroy those that you love”.

Q. Zero lost her demonic powers when she created the Rainbow Pearls. Then what was the power she was using when she fought?

A. Zero was using the power of hexes. In this world, there is not only demonic power but all sorts of powers such as spiritual power and Buddhist power and each of them is separate. What she used was a power similar to charms and Inyougogyō**.

** Translator’s Note: Yin and Yang and the five Chinese elements: metal, wood, water, fire, and earth.

Q. Why did someone like Kirinmaru, who values reason, have the Four Perils, who had sleazy personalities, as subordinates?

A. Kirinmaru’s mind is preoccupied with a “certain matter” that’s important so he doesn’t really care about anything else. Hence, he doesn’t remember every single demon that has challenged or served under him and he doesn’t care what kind of person they were.

Q. In episode 21, it was surprising when Towa said “I like you (Riku)!”. To put it frankly, what do Towa and Riku think of each other?

A. Towa thinks Riku is “Riku”. She doesn’t perceive him as being part of Kirinmaru’s group. On the other hand, Riku thinks Towa is “The lady Yashahime that will slay Kirinmaru”. That’s why he addresses her as “Lady Towa”. Currently, there are no romantic feelings between the two of them. Just that, there’s probably “affection” from Riku to Towa.

Q. Why does Riku think “I only kill those I love”?

A. Because “Those who are loved vanish beautifully”. That is what Zero said in episode 23. To Zero, death is sad but to Riku, there’s no difference between dying and living and that they’re the same. Based on that, Riku came to think “You have to destroy those that you love” and he chooses to “kill” as an expression of love. That might be quite difficult to understand.

Q. Why is Sesshōmaru so cold to his daughters?

A. Just as a lion drops its cubs into a bottomless ravine, a demon’s feeling is that they only raise the child that gains strength from hardship. That is the “Rite of Courage and Cowardice”. It’s a little different from the feeling we humans have. That’s why hating his daughters or purposely tormenting them is certainly not the case.

Q. Although, isn’t separating the babies from their mother immediately after birth or having them fight the strongest beast king of the eastern land, Kirinmaru, a little too much?

A. If you watch the kabuki play “Renjishi” I think you will get it immediately. Anime is fine, but I would like to recommend the traditional arts that have ceaselessly been passed down since ancient Japanese times. Even if going to see them is difficult, researching on the internet is easy. Even the phrase “Rite of Courage and Cowardice” will show up in there. It seems that in this world, there’s no people who love their children more than Japanese people. Perhaps that’s why it can’t be helped that the way Sesshōmaru is raising his children feels very cold. However, those who watched the “Inuyasha” series I think will know but Sesshōmaru’s hearing and smell are exceedingly exceptional. He has the ability to immediately rush in, no matter how far the distance.

Q. Lastly, please tell us how production for the second chapter (season) is going?

A. Currently, we’re writing the second half of the script for the second chapter (season). The whole staff are eagerly working under this difficult Corona crisis. In the second chapter (season), we would like to create a script that is particular on the details as much as possible. In the previous series, there were many self-contained demon slaying stories but for the second chapter (season), we’ve changed the structure of the story so that it progresses with the feelings of the various characters intertwining together, just like in “Inuyasha The Final Act”. Hence, I think the impression of the story will change quite a bit. Please wait until the broadcast to see what kind of story it will be!

[all-about-the-tea-parties]

Sophie, and her Really Great Time Watching Moiraine Kick Ass:

“Who is this young girl??? And why does she have to leave home???”

Me: Sophie . The tattoos.

Her: yeah cool af

Me: n-no they’re. They’re the same tattoos. That the girl had

Her: she’s the QUEEN now???

Very on the fence about how the Pope was talking to Moiraine; could tell there was something more about it than just a smackdown

Every other sentence was a remark on how Rosamund Pike was “glowing”

“If this is the woman Lan met then I totally get why he’s her Warder”

“She should stay in this city more, it suits her, ppl get that she’s amazing here”

A little Annoyed™️ Moiraine hasn’t reunited the Kids. Because “they’ll go off and do something stupid if they don’t see each other”

Opinion of Rand has gone up, since he’s a sweet man who apologises. Nynaeve is yet again, a thorn. (Sad day for me, Nynaeve is my *girl*)

Also thinks Egwene is a badass, loves the murder

“Give her my love” Sophie: her??? Who’s her??? Is she in the wall??? Did Moiraine TRAP her in the wall???

Genuinely thought the painting on the wall wasn’t a door, but a magic prison

Had to calm her down

Siuan being “her” - le gasp that came out, beautiful, brilliant, fantastic

However as wonderfully spicy as “on your knees” was Sophie rated the kiss 6/10 because it “coulda been more romantic”

Happy that Siuan is in on the Dragon stuff

Unhappy that Siuan and Moiraine are forbidden lovers, forever exiled

The exile part doesn’t sink in properly until the oath scene

Loves Spy!Moiraine, another addition to the list of Why Moiraine Damodred is The Best

“What’s happening to the ships in the West?” - immediate concern, she packbonds quickly, and like Egwene is now in her own mind an Aes Sedai.

Not blue tho

she wants to be green or yellow

She hasn’t figured out which

The Reunion was perfect - she breathed a sigh of relief

Followed by IMMEDIATE dismay at Mat being left behind

Fav thing: Egwene admitting to murder, and solemnly swearing herself to the fight against the Dark One in front of Siuan. Also; Moiraine, existing. Also “If Wisdom is the title you claim... you should think about using some”

Edit: she also thoroughly enjoyed “the Amyrlin waits only for one woman, and it’s not you” Sophie: cause it’s ME, bitch, she’s wait for me”

Least fav thing: Nynaeve, being Nynaeve. Also, lack of warders in Hall. “What if someone attacks them????”

Wolf watch: none, just one Perrin, alone.

Personal fav moment of Sophie Watch: the distress of the Siuan possibly never having seen her father since that moment, and the immediate affirmation that she has, she has.

[stillwinterair]

We’re halfway through the year, so: here are my favorite books (out of the 23 total) I’ve read so far this year, in the order I read them!

The Wolf in the Whale by Jordanna Max Brodsky is a beautifully-rendered tale that blends Inuit and Norse mythology into a vibrant mythos, and drives them to a stunning conclusion. Its Inuk protagonist, Omat, is brilliant, and not the last trans man on this list. His romance with the runaway viking Brandr and their desperate drive to save their colliding worlds is harrowing, intricate, and awe-inspiring.

Good Omens by Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman is... well, you know what Good Omens is, probably, but it’s a wonderfully fun book about an angel, a demon, and the apocalypse. It’s exactly as beautiful as I’d hoped and something I don’t think I’ll be able to stop myself from rereading each year.

Wake of Vultures by Lila Bowen is the first chapter in a wonderful weird west saga starring a trans cowboy and a diverse cast of monsters and humans. This one is a page-turner like no other, and while I’ve only read three of the four books in the series so far, this was my favorite so far. It was a little campier than I expected going in, but it balances its fun adventures well with the horror and the grit of the wild west.

The Unspoken Name by A.K. Larkwood is... more or less, everything I’ve ever wanted. A high fantasy epic with elements of space opera, starring a lesbian orc, the mage she loves, the wizard who both saved and trapped her from a doomed existence, and her absurd and endearing maniac of a rival. The world is ancient and endlessly strange, with mysteries around absolutely every single corner.

The Fisherman by John Langran is an endlessly intriguing novel of cosmic horror. As the back cover describes, it is “a tale of dark pacts, of long-buried secrets,” of a world beneath our own far stranger than we could imagine, of stories within stories, nestled within each other like matryoshka dolls. No one could put it better than Stephen Graham Jones: “Reading this, your mouth fills with worms. Just let them wriggle and crawl as they will, though--don’t swallow. John Langran is fishing for your sleep, four your soul. I fear he’s already got mine.”

A Memory Called Empire by Arkady Martine is a sci-fi political thriller, expertly plotted, filled with brilliant characters and a fascinating, all-consuming interstellar society. Like The Goblin Emperor meets Imperial Radch, in a way. It’s weird, it’s fun, and it balances light and dark on a knife’s edge.

Some honorable mentions of other books I’ve really enjoyed this year:

This Is How You Lose the Time War by Amal El-Mohtar and Max Gladstone (a four-dimensional romance like no other)

Use of Weapons by Iain M. Banks (tour-de-force sci-fi character study; read Player of Games first, though)

Storm of Locusts by Rebecca Roanhorse (sequel to Trail of Lightning; a post-apocalyptic Navajo monster hunter fights for her friends)

Conspiracy of Ravens by Lila Bowen (sequel to Wake of Vultures, trans cowboy, found family, etc.)

I’m Thinking of Ending Things by Iain Reid (dear fucking lord, this is depression as a novel)

A Dowry of Blood by S.T. Gibson (reimagining of the wives of Dracula, framed as a polyamorous relationship of vampires; dark, violent, emotionally raw and beautifully told)