#there is no magic anymore do you understand

[still-a-dreamer-even-now]

she wants to understand, she tried to understand, she begs them to tell her what happened to them in the country and they all look at each other having a silent conversation she will never understand and edmund makes a joke that doesn’t quite ring true about their time and she wonders once again when her younger son became a diplomat and her children became a parliament

“the war changed them” she says to anyone that knew them before “i hardly know them myself anymore”

and she says it with false laughter and haunted eyes and a heavy sense that she has missed something crucial and the people that knew them don’t quite get it, “they’re growing up” they say “war changed everyone” but helen pevensie has never seen children who eyes tell her they’ve truly, really lived entire lifetimes at 15

i helen is so terrified her kids grew up without her while still being so young like they lost their childhood it was robbed from them but in reality their childhood was rich and wonderful and lovely and lively and yes even magical and they grew up at a normal rate and then were forced to live through that growing up again in a world less beautiful and she’s afraid they missed their childhood but really truly it was she who missed it

because every time they’ve started trying to explain it to sit her down and tell her, every time she frustratedly throws down a rag while washing the dishes and begs peter to act his age in a way most kids will never hear it said (be a kid!! for goodness sake be a kid, peter!!) and he opens his mouth to speak and then closes it again and shakes his head with such a noble tilt and tells her not to worry and that he’s fine and that’s he’s nearly old enough to worry about adult matters now anyhow

because how do you explain to your mother that you’re not really a child (i’ve grown so much in your absence mother) without sounding like you didn’t need her, without sounding like you’re telling a story or a joke instead of the truth (i wish i could show you our palace, our friends) and how do you tell your mother you learned swordsmanship from a mouse, or learned diplomacy from a centaur, that the trees taught you to waltz, you like your tea that way because of a dear old faun, won’t she think you’re playing? joking, teasing her relentlessly? isn’t it easier for her to think you’ve grown than for her to be so concerned that you’re still so childish? and wouldn’t it be wonderful if she would just believe you? but you know she won’t, so you sit silently at the table and hum a lullaby to yourself in a language you wish you could teach her and wonder if a lifetime apart is too long to get to know someone again

you have invited strangers into your home, helen pevensie, mother of four.

without the blurred sight of joy and relief, it has become impossible to ignore. all the love inside you cannot keep you from seeing the truth. your children are strangers to you. the country has seen them grow taller, your youngest daughter’s hair much longer than you would have it all years past. their hands have more strength in them, their voices ring with an odd lilt and their eyes—it has become hard to look at them straight on, hasn’t it? your children have changed, helen, and as much as you knew they would grow a little in the time away from you, your children have become strangers.

your youngest sings songs you do not know in a language that makes your chest twist in odd ways. you watch her dance in floating steps, bare feet barely touching the dewy grass. when you try and make her wear her sister’s old shoes—growing out of her own faster than you think she ought to—, she looks at you as though you are the child instead of her. her fingers brush leaves with tenderness, and you swear your daughter’s gentle hum makes the drooping plant stand taller than before. you follow her eager leaps to her siblings, her enthusiasm the only thing you still recognise from before the country. yet, she laughs strangely, no longer the giggling girl she used to be but free in a way you have never seen. her smile can drop so fast now, her now-old eyes can turn distant and glassy, and her tears, now rarer, are always silent. it scares you to wonder what robbed her of the heaving sobs a child ought to make use of in the face of upset.

your other daughter—older than your youngest yet still at an age that she cannot be anything but a child—smiles with all the knowledge in the world sitting in the corner of her mouth. her voice is even, without all traces of the desperate importance her peers carry still, that she used to fill her siblings’ ears with at all hours of the day. she folds her hands in her lap with patience and soothes the ache of war in your mind before you even realise she has started speaking. you watch her curl her hair with careful, steady fingers and a straight back, her words a melody as she tells your eldest which move to make without so much a glance at the board off to her right. she reads still, and what a relief you find this sliver of normalcy, even if she’s started taking notes in a shorthand you couldn’t even think to decipher. even if you feel her slipping away, now more like one of the young, confident women in town than a child desperately wishing for a mother’s approval.

your younger son reads plenty as well these days, and it fills you with pride. he is quiet now, sitting still when you find him bent over a book in the armchair of his father. he looks at you with eyes too knowing for a petulant child on the cusp of puberty, and no longer beats his fists against the furniture when one of his siblings dares approach him. he has settled, you realise one evening when you walk into the living room and find him writing in a looping script you don’t recognise, so different from the scratched signature he carved into the doors of your pantry barely a year ago. he speaks sense to your youngest and eldest, respects their contributions without jest. you watch your two middle children pass a book back and forth, each a pen in hand and sheets of paper bridging the gap between them, his face opening up with a smile rather than a scowl. it freezes you mid-step to find such simple joy in him. remember when you sent them away, helen, and how long it had been since he allowed you to see a smile then?

your eldest doesn’t sleep anymore. none of your children care much for bedtimes these days, but at least sleep still finds them. it’s not restful, you know it from the startled yelps that fill the house each night, but they sleep. your eldest makes sure of it. you have not slept through a night since the war began, so it’s easy to discover the way he wanders the halls like a ghost, silent and persistent in a duty he carries with pride. each door is opened, your children soothed before you can even think to make your own way to their beds. his voice sounds deeper than it used to, deeper still than you think possible for a child his age and size. then again, you are never sure if the notches on his door frame are an accurate way to measure whatever it is that makes you feel like your eldest has grown beyond your reach. you watch him open doors, soothe your children, spend his nights in the kitchen, his hands wrapped around a cup of tea with a weariness not even the war should bring to him, not after all the effort you put into keeping him safe.

your children mostly talk to each other now, in a whispered privacy you cannot hope to be a part of. their arms no longer fit around your waist. your daughters are wilder—even your older one, as she carries herself like royalty, has grown teeth too sharp for polite society— and they no longer lean into your hands. your sons are broad-shouldered even before their shirts start being too small again, filling up space you never thought was up for taking. your eldest doesn’t sleep, your middle children take notes when politicians speak on the wireless and shake their heads as though they know better, and your youngest sings for hours in your garden.

who are your children now, helen pevensie, and who pried their childhood out of your shaking hands?

[wandaslittlelove]

Bad Familiar

Pairing: Rio vidal x reader, Agatha harkness x Rio vidal Warnings: Angst, Character death

No one ever prepares a familiar for what happens when their witch decides they aren’t needed anymore.

For as long as you could remember you had been by Rio’s side. Doing and being whatever she needed of you. It was your job after all. Being her familiar meant that your whole purpose was to serve her. Whatever she needed you would do it in a heartbeat. At first everything was great. Rio had Loved you. But then she met Agatha.

At first you thought it was curiosity drawing Rio to Agatha. She still kissed you and told you she loved you so it wasn’t like anything was changing. But then she started seeking Agatha out and it felt like you were fighting for her affection. 

“Rio?” You called out into the open field. Rio had brought you both here saying she needed to speak to Agatha. They had walked off a bit claiming it was private matters so you were left standing there. Seeing a patch of flowers you had decided to make Rio a flower crown. Something she always loved when you gifted them to her. It had been a couple hours now and with the crown finished and held gently in your hands you went off to find her. You could feel that she wasn’t far, a perk of being connected to her.

When you did find her though you wished you hadn’t. There sitting against a Tree was Rio with her lips connected to Agatha’s. Your heart cracked as you quickly dropped the flower crown and ran off. It felt like your whole world came tumbling down. You were literally made for her. You couldn’t understand why this was happening. Tripping over a tree root you fell to the ground with a harsh thud. The blood dripping down your knee barely even noticed as the words ‘Bad Familiar’ echoed in your mind

Over time things had only gotten worse. Rio scarcely kissed you anymore and the only time she told you she loved you was when you did something she wanted. She had also started spending less time with you and more time with Agatha. The cottage you two shared seemed empty most of the time. 

It was the middle of the night when you were woken up to the bend dipping. Rio had spent the day collecting bodies and what not while you had spent it in the cottage trying to ignore the burning feeling throughout your body. It was a feeling no familiar wanted to feel. The feeling that they were becoming unwanted. That their witch was starting to forget them. The feeling of burned away from the inside. A feeling that always led to death.

The bed dipped further as Rio melted into the sheets beside you. You waited silently for her to wrap her arms around you like she had done countless times. Waited for her to whisper those three little words into your ear. But it never came. Instead you could feel the warmth of tears falling down your face. Eventually you feel asleep with the words ‘Bad Familiar’ replaying in your head.

The burning had only gotten worse from that night. Your body temperature had grown warmer as you started to fall ill. Rio had never noticed though. Too busy pursuing Agatha to see the way your skin grew paler and the harsh coughs that racked your body. 

Despite the pain, your excitement grew. Familiar day wasn’t far away. The one day every year made specifically for Witches and their familiars. A day that strengthened the bond. A whole day with Rio was just what you needed. She always ignored her duties to spend time with you for the whole day. Most of the day the witch and their familiar would just spend time together. At night was when everything magical happened. Underneath the full moon the witch and their familiar would sit in a small circle. They would take a blade and slice their hands to bring them together. The magic in their blood would respond, strengthening the bond between the two. It was the only time Rio could bleed and it was for you.

You planned the whole day out. Activities that you knew she loved. You had even gotten her a bouquet of flowers, black roses. Her favorite. Though when you woke up that day the bed beside you was empty. You had gotten out of bed thinking that she was already up. But the cottage was empty. The burning inside you increased but you tried to ignore it. Holding onto that little bit of hope that she would show up. She wouldn’t miss the ritual… Right?

As the moon started to set, your hope was leaving with it. But then she appeared and the hope returned. There was still time!

In a haste to complete the ritual in time you had grabbed her arm eagerly and led her to the circle not paying attention as she tried to call for your attention. Though when you both got to the circle she planted her feet firmly in the earth and refused to move. You turned to look at her confused and desperate. 

“Rio what are you doing? We have to do the ritual.” You spoke as you attempted to tug on her arm again but she only looked at you with what you can only describe as pity and suddenly it clicked. She wasn’t here to do the ritual with you. 

“Agatha… She’s pregnant.” You didn’t understand what this had to do with her. “It’s mine. I came to get my stuff. I’m going to live with her.” Your body froze and stiffened at her words.

“I- I don’t understand” You whispered. The burning grew stronger and with it the urge to cough. But you held it back. You refused to show her weakness at this moment. Even if all you wanted to do was run into her arms.

“I'm gathering my stuff and leaving. Thank you for being my familiar but I don’t need you anymore.” No amount of words could describe the pain in that moment. The pain of the person you were literally made for not wanting you anymore.

Rio said nothing else as she walked away into the house. The sun rising in front of it as she gathered her stuff. As you felt the cough creep up until it was choking you. As your body grew hotter and hotter until it suddenly became cold. As the words ‘Bad familiar” was all you could think of. How you had failed her. How you weren’t enough. Until your breathing stopped. Until Rio sank into the dirt when she was called to guide your soul to the afterlife. 

No one ever prepares a witch for the pain they feel when their familiar dies.

[chillinglikeashilling]

I do think that it's important for Evan to understand that just because his friend don't express it in the way he does (or desperately tries not to) it doesn't mean that they don't love and miss him just as much as he misses them.

Evan said that he learned after love (his friends) came into his life, that the rest of life is still very much a thing you have to deal with and now he's seen someone dealing with it.

Jammer loves the Pilot Program and he loves his mom and sisters and all of the other teams he's part of, but the logistics of life get in the way of that. So he's thinking of ways to change his life to accommodate that love.

Now Jammer doesn't handle that perfectly because no one does really (god I want to see the convo in the next episode so bad) but he's acknowledged the problem and then moved towards fixing it.

I understand why Evan is the way he is but I do think that (for perfectly understandable reasons) he can be very unaware of the others feelings and motivations. In the same way he was doing a disservice to Sam, he's doing the same disservice to Jammer by deciding on his own that they are being 'kind' rather than 'loving'.

Jammer obviously isn't coming at the thing with the same intesity as Evan is but they both have the same silly day dream of just getting to be with their loved ones forever. That's a very understandable, very common want.

[blueishspace]

Shattered Pearl 8.1

(Prev) (Next) (First)

*Gem's pov*

Well it is akward, you officially have no idea what's happening anymore... Moon's explanation is not nearly as complete or satisfying as you wish it was.

It's not her fault, if what you have understood is correct then... then she has more important things to worry about... you really don't blame her.

...

But it still something you don't understand fully and you don't like it one bit. You don't like being unable to act, you aren't used to something like this happening... It's not magic, not the one you are used to... It's not even the void magic you use to switch between worlds and forms.

It's divine... but that doesn't really help you. You have no idea what to do now except try to not scare off Pear- Moon...

...

Once Pearl is back you are going to kill her for doing something this stupid without telling anyone...scratch that, for doing something this stupid at all.

[hollowed-theory-hall]

my personal pet peeves in HP is whole second book, and medicine. especially medicine

starting with the sewers that Salazar invented about half a millennium before the Muggles and beyond. but these things have almost no effect on the overall effect, but hospitals do. the school infirmary and St. Mungus. it feels like jkr came up with Saint Mongoose only for book 5, because before when students suffered serious injuries (Basilisk and cat hair for polyjuice, I mean you) they were treated at school. the students literally waited half a year for the mandrakes to ripen! but for some reason the teachers are transferred to Mungos (McGonagall did not stay at the school after 4 spells).

either these are plot holes or I don't understand something

Like with many things in HP, you can read it as a plot hole, or you can read it as Dumbledore's manipulations at it again (which is what I always do).

If we're talking specifically about year 2, we know Dumbledore knows what the Chamber is and what the monster is. He was a professor the first time around 50 years ago when Myrtle died. He knew it was Tom back then so it's not that he has no clue.

I think he doesn't know for certain who Tom is possessing at first or how, and he lets it play out to both:

Learn more about Voldy

Test & teach Harry

Additionally, even if petrification isn't serious enough to be sent to St Mongos (playing devil's advocate a little), I refuse to believe mandrake leaves can't be imported year-round. I mean, they are a common enough potion ingredient and are used in sleeping potions and healing potions. So there must be a supplier for potioners from where they buy the specific parts of the mandrake they need.

So, I think there was a wee bit of a coverup going on so Harry could be the one to figure it out and face Voldemort. Like in first year:

“No, it isn’t,” said Harry thoughtfully. “He’s a funny man, Dumbledore. I think he sort of wanted to give me a chance. I think he knows more or less everything that goes on here, you know. I reckon he had a pretty good idea we were going to try, and instead of stopping us, he just taught us enough to help. I don’t think it was an accident he let me find out how the mirror worked. It’s almost like he thought I had the right to face Voldemort if I could. ...” “Yeah, Dumbledore’s off his rocker, all right,” said Ron proudly.

(PS)

“You see what you expect to see, Severus,” said Dumbledore, without raising his eyes from a copy of Transfiguration Today. “Other teachers report that the boy is modest, likable, and reasonably talented. Personally, I find him an engaging child.” Dumbledore turned a page, and said, without looking up, “Keep an eye on Quirrell, won’t you?”

(DH)

Dumbledore is testing Harry in his first 3 years. The first time Dumbledore isn't fully in on what's going on at Hogwarts and isn't aware of all of it is 4th year (and even then I'm pretty certain he knew Moody was an imposter, but I digress).

In general, I think, 2nd year is just another example of Dumbledore endangering students and sacrificing their education (by hiring Lockhart) to teach Harry a lesson and test if Harry is truly a Horcrux, which he suspected before:

“Couldn’t you do something about it, Dumbledore?” “Even if I could, I wouldn’t. Scars can come in handy...”

(PS) - when talking to McGonagall about Harry's lightning scar.

“I guessed, fifteen years ago,” said Dumbledore, “when I saw the scar upon your forehead, what it might mean. I guessed that it might be the sign of a connection forged between you and Voldemort.” “You’ve told me this before, Professor,” said Harry bluntly. He did not care about being rude. He did not care about anything very much anymore. “Yes,” said Dumbledore apologetically. “Yes, but you see — it is necessary to start with your scar. For it became apparent, shortly after you rejoined the magical world, that I was correct, and that your scar was giving you warnings when Voldemort was close to you, or else feeling powerful emotion.”

(OotP)

But second-year proved it to him:

“You can speak Parseltongue, Harry,” said Dumbledore calmly, “because Lord Voldemort — who is the last remaining descendant of Salazar Slytherin — can speak Parseltongue. Unless I’m much mistaken, he transferred some of his own powers to you the night he gave you that scar. Not something he intended to do, I’m sure. . . .”

(CoS)

It allowed him to test his Horcruxes theory (the diary) and also test Harry. It accomplished a lot of things Dumbledore needed anyway, so he probably thanked Lucius in his head as he let it all play out.

I mean, we see how little concern Dumbledore shows over Katie and Ron who got hurt by Draco trying to kill him:

“You gave me your word, Severus. And while we are talking about services you owe me, I thought you agreed to keep a close eye on our young Slytherin friend?” Snape looked angry, mutinous. Dumbledore sighed.

(DH) - this is all Dumbledore really says about Draco endangering students.

“You have had a busy time while I have been away,” Dumbledore said. “I believe you witnessed Katie’s accident.” “Yes, sir. How is she?” “Still very unwell, although she was relatively lucky. She appears to have brushed the necklace with the smallest possible amount of skin: There was a tiny hole in her glove. Had she put it on, had she even held it in her ungloved hand, she would have died, perhaps instantly.

(HBP) - even when talking to Harry he is incredibly cold about it.

And in book 2, the board of governors did get involved and removed Dumbledore from the school because they, quite reasonably, were concerned he wasn't dealing with the danger seriously. Like, I know it was Lucius Malfoy who engineered it and he's not supposed to be in the right, but he kinda accidentally was in this case. Dumbledore probably hid a lot of information from the board and was weird about the whole deal, I mean, Lucius can bribe to his heart's content but I don't think the board would remove Dumbledore so readily unless Dumbledore's behavior supported what Lucius was saying in some capacity.

We know Dumbledore is incredibly cold and calculated and we know it's not out of character for Dumbledore to endanger students if it advances his goals and doesn't hurt anyone too much by his standards. What's a few petrifications if it means he can be sure he can kill Voldemort and learn more about his connection to Harry?

(Regarding Hermione and the Polyjuice in year 2 is even easier. Because I don't believe Hermione told her parents and Hogwarts wouldn't tell muggles about what's going on at school, so it would be quite easy to hush down for the sake of the grander plan. Also, it protects her, Harry, and Ron since what they did is kinda illegal, so Dumbledore not sending Hermione to St Mongos protects them from punishment, which works well for them and him in this case)

[gothamite-rambler]

The awesomeness of Nickleback

Wally West sped through the streets of Paris, his heart racing with excitement as he made his way to a quaint café where Zatanna Zatara enjoyed a leisurely cup of tea. The aroma of freshly brewed beverages filled the air, and the vibrant atmosphere of the city buzzed around them.

He skidded to a halt in front of Zatanna, his breath slightly labored but his enthusiasm undeterred.

Zatanna (looking up, unfazed by his sudden appearance): Sup?

Wally (rushing through his words): Can you magically teleport my best buddy and life partner here?

Zatanna (curious, tilting her head): What for?

Wally practically bounced on his feet, his excitement palpable.

Wally: There’s a concert for Nickelback in Bludhaven! He doesn’t like Nickelback, but I love the band, and I will not have him avoid this again!

Zatanna chuckled, leaning back in her chair, clearly entertained.

Zatanna: Good enough answer for me.

Wally (in disbelief): Wait… no questions about why I’m meeting you at a café in France to ask this?

Zatanna (smirking, playful): Tsk, I’m used to a lot of things. This isn’t even odd to me.

Without further talking , she pulled out her wand, her fingers dancing over it with magical elegance. With a flick and an incantation softly spoken, a burst of light erupted. Suddenly, Dick Grayson, bewildered, dropped from the sky, landing perfectly in Wally's outstretched arms.

Dick (surprised, exasperated): I said I would think about going!

Wally tightened his grip on his friend, excitement bubbling over.

Wally (grinning): We can’t miss this concert! You have to go!

Dick glared at him, incredulity in his voice.

Dick: I don't wanna!

Wally (whining): It's Nickleback!

Dick (irate): Yes, it's Nickleback!

Wally: See you're coming around.

Dick: Let me break this down for you. You put on your costume, went to Zatanna, and kidnapped me for a concert! You have to understand how bad that sounds!

Wally beamed, undeterred.

Wally: I will show you the awesomeness of Nickelback!

Zatanna (chiming in, sipping her tea): Some of their music is pretty catchy, Dick.

Dick (frustrated): Not helping!

Zatanna lifted her cup to her lips again, a slight smirk on her face.

Zatanna: Wasn’t intending to! Do this for your boyfriend!

Dick (blushing, protesting): Stop saying that! You're just mad I won't sleep with you anymore!

Zatanna (finishing a long sip from her tea cup): Maybe!

Dick: I don't like the band; let me go home!

Wally (pleading): Come on, please! It’s not like you were doing anything important.

Dick (defensively, crossing his arms): I was at work!

Wally (dismissively): You can get another job. Let’s go!

Wally declared, taking off at full speed with Dick still in his embrace. Dick didn’t protest further, though annoyance was etched across his features.

As they sped away, Zatanna took another sip of her tea, humming the tune of “Photograph.” She smiled to herself, reveling in the unexpected antics of her friends.

[draconicfool]

It had been so long since he'd experienced much of anything. Back in those days, things were very different. He'd never even really seen a human. Not since his mother kept him more or less hidden away after his father's demise. For a Sovereign needed to be kept safe until he could understand his role in things. That's what she had said, at least. "Humans are- varied in talents like the birds, okay! Like- like how frogs come in different colors, too!" Eros repeated with a little nod. "So- so you were in charge of them? Why not anymore?"

Following quickly behind the other when he was steered over, he'd stop when Zhongli did. His head tilting at the appearance of the robe. So he knew magic, too! It was definitely different than whatever Gaeia had used so long ago to make his special frog pockets, but it was interesting nonetheless. When it was passed to the smaller male, he'd slip it on and giggle. How warm it felt compared to his usual clothing. Though, suppose that tended to happen when one wasn't used to having a more human body. He didn't know what needed to be covered. "You're the best! This is so pretty and comfy and nice! Thank you!" Hearing him speak, the smaller gave a little nod of understanding. "That's what Mama said, too. I have to know where I belong in the song! That's how you learn to understand it and how- how I can do fun stuff with it, too. Yessir!"

The enthusiasm made Zhongli laugh. It was almost like that of a new hatchling, not that he had much experience with that. There were so very few dragons in Teyvat these days, Sovereigns or not, and Zhongli himself had not been young for a very long time. "Humans are as varied in their talents as the colors of the birds in the sky." He hummed. "But, as a whole, they carry an ambition, a resilience, and a spirit of discovery that make me proud to have been recognized as a leader and a god by them."

He gently steered Eros into the right direction, along the street, then paused. "Ah, perhaps you should..." A moment of thought, then he raised his hand and a shimmering piece of golden brown fabric appeared. It was a simple robe, recalled from his own Adeptal Abode, but still ornately decorated with golden embroidery. Matching the current fashions enough to not draw much attention. Zhongli eyed Eros for another moment, with the eye of someone who had at least watched many tailors do their work, and then the robe shrunk in his grip before he passed it on to him. "A gift. Wearing this should keep people from staring all too much, and you will be able to conceal your tail in it, should you wish to stay in this form." Not much to be done about the horns, but they were less obviously draconic. Folding his hands behind his back, Zhongli peered up at the mountains. "It took me quite a while to learn how to listen as well. I would bathe in the song of the stone, letting it wash over me instead of endeavoring to understand my part in it."

[camelspit]

visibly clenching my jaw and shaking with rage. why are all the newer barbie movies trash.

[cable-salamdr]

Wolfcat is sooooo funky to me esp now that it’s confirmed that Sora and Jordana were in school together and drifted apart. I don’t really see them as toxic yuri anymore and more as Jordana somewhat-joining the ninja and they are both confused as fuck about one another. Just exhausted from life and scared of AND for the other person. They have so many issues to fix between each other and themselves, and if it takes them like 10 years to actually get together then I am completely okay with that. No more toxic yuri only weary yuri now.

[necrotic-nephilim]

Any ships you don’t like in the batfam fandom that is popular?

OOOH this is such a fun question because I have quite a few

StephCass - i'll be honest this is one of those ships where the fandom ruined it for me. because 2000s StephCass is an elite dynamic, they care for each other so deeply. but the fandom has been intent on defanging and purifying this ship. i don't know *why* but StephCass seems most popular with the anti-Batcest crowd who get very mad if you compare it to ships they deem Batcest. i have an entire meta commentary on this in my drafts I'll likely never post discussing why the only reason StephCass gets the pass for not being Batcest ties directly into misogyny (because the women of the Batfam need to exist as love interests first, not family members so Steph was never going to truly get to exist as a "full" Batfam member so long as she could remain a viable love interest for Tim, and the same can apply to Babs, Helena, and even Cass in some cases) and that just sours me to it. like if i want yuri in Batfam i think there are far more interesting/fucked up ships for Steph like Babs/Steph or Helena/Steph. and when it comes to what i'd actually like to see in canon, i don't want to see Steph relegated to love interest of a Batfamily member, even if it's queer. let her date and exist outside of Gotham the way every other Batfam member gets to, DC *please*.

Bruce/Selina - i can't fully articulate why this ship isn't my thing, it just isn't. i think i just can't conceivably agree with Selina letting go of so many of her fundamental morals and beliefs for the sake of a man, even one she loves such as Bruce. ironically, i think that's one of the few things Gotham War got right about these two. the only canon love interest i like for Bruce is Zatanna and i mourn we'll never get much of that.

JayRoy - i will admit when i was newer to DC the first comics i picked up for Jason were all New-52 and i shipped this. but now that i'm a pre-Flashpoint truther and i've actually read well-written Roy Harper comics, i only see the flaws in this ship. ngl if ppl were actually fun and interesting with it, playing with the idea of Roy knowing Jason as Robin and still seeing him as just Dick's little brother who's gone a little mental, it *could* be fun. but this Red Hood & the Outlaws (2011) and Red Hood/Arsenal (2015) dynamic *butchers* the fuck out of Roy and strips him of everything interesting. and even as a Batfamily stan, my number one pet peeve is when other DC characters get *butchered* in a Batfamily character's book just for the sake of propping up the Bat as some kind of savior. free Roy Harper from this mans.

Bruce/Oliver - we could be here all day if i listed all the Bruce ships i don't like, but i figure this one has to be included. because oh my god either the people shipping this *really* don't understand Oliver Queen or they just hate his ass because why would you subject Oliver to this man. he can't *stand* Bruce. i really hate the popular BruOliie shipping dynamic of like "oh they were boarding school besties" because if you want that, you *should* like Bruce/Zatanna, not these two. Oliver just always gets butchered in these fics and i won't stand for it.

Tim/Bernard - the ESSAYS i could write on this ship and why i dislike it. the fucking *fear* DC (and most popular media tbh) has with depicting queer relationships as anything other than totally perfect and cute for fear of accusations of homophobia has stripped this ship of *any* real grit. Bernard is a non-character in Tim Drake: Robin, he exists to cheer Tim on and prop him up and just be The Boyfriend. we occasionally get glimpses of an interesting character with really interesting trauma and nothing is *done* with it bc at the end of the day, Tim and Bernard must be perfect and cute. what's fun about Tim is he is the *worst* boyfriend alive. that boy is *ass* at dating. all of his relationships are rich with conflict and yet the moment he dates a guy suddenly all of his flaws vanish? i hate it. i mourn what this could've been if we kept messy Tim Drake and had a Bernard who was actually informed by his trauma. DC please let gays be messy again. also of all of Tim's 90s/00s friends to bring back as a love interest, Bernard Dowd was just a *bizarre* fucking choice. Sebastian Ives was *right* there come on now.

Any Crossover Ship - look if crossovers are your cup of tea i'm happy for you but oh my god if i have to see that little green ghost boy or that ladybug girl in the Batfam one more time i think i may explode. i have a lot of thoughts on *why* i think specifically Danny Phantom and Miraculous Ladybug get crossed over as often as they do with the Batfam, but i don't think anyone wants to year that. my only exception to this is Jason/Bucky Barnes, but it *has* to be comics!Bucky. like. Judd Winick's Jason and Ed Brubaker's Bucky would hatefuck and that i wish to see it. any other crossover ship (especially the Peter Parker ones that seem to be rising in popularity) just do *not* do it for me.

honestly besides that i don't think i dislike many ships. (aside from being super opinionated on Bruce ships, but that's mostly bc ppl will use him to butcher the character they ship him with) there are some ships i'm neutral to because i simply do not know enough to have an opinion (like Dick/Wally). i guess the only Batcest ship i'm not particular to is Bruce/Damian, but I wouldn't say that one is popular nor would i say i dislike it, just that it's not my cup of tea. most Batcest ships click for me in one way or another because i like their Weird dnyamics. i guess i could also say i dislike most ships that have come out of Young Justice (tv) because. oh my *god* why were those group of characters put together on a team. it's baffling. but even then it's not disliking those ships, it's moreso disliking that show's depiction of those characters so. everything is really dependant on the canon context for me!

[marzipanandminutiae]

Actually, the wise women/Cunning Folk system was Norse in origin and the rest of Europe had wise women replace their own ritualized medical systems (think sleeping at Asclepius's temple) because Europe was conquered by Danish tribes during the end of the Roman period.

No seriously, Scandinavians have (or had, it's dying out because of how good their healthcare system is) a long history of kloke folk that dates back to the pagan seidrmadrs.

Considering what the medical system was like back then, most of the wise women were in many ways a good deal less quackish than the men with MDs, considering they understood the wonders of antiseptics and MDs looked at the concept as some rustic superstition.

No, actually, I want wise women back because their services were free. I mean, yeah, they'd obviously charge a fee NOW, but Granny Weatherwax's comment that, "They didn't pay in cash, but rather in respect, which was cold hard currency" was actually a reality for these women, considering their communities protected them from the witchhunters.

Granted, the witch trials were a little more complicated, considering the word for witchcraft in Nordic countries was troldfolk (who were believed to send curses via illness), who were fought by the kloke folk. ("Sickness is curses sent by the Jotuns" is metaphorically true...) Wise women didn't get properly killed off until the Progressive Era, due to modern medicine finally being both effective, available, and doctors passing laws against "quacks".

Okay, so, by free admission, early modern Nordic history is VERY NOT my main area of expertise. This could all be entirely true for Scandianvian vernacular magic/folk healing practice. But I definitely now it wasn’t true for all practitioners termed “wise women” across Europe.

Just looking into the system of Scandinavian wise women superficially, though, it seems that they- like their British counterparts the cunning-folk, who I’m more familiar with -didn’t need community protection from witch hunters because they were seldom targeted by them. Based on the better sourced parts of the “cunning folk” Wiki page, a charge of “superstition” seems to have been brought against Scandinavian wise women more often, and they did get arrested and sentenced fairly frequently. But the sentence wasn’t usually capital, and for some of them it seems to have acted as good advertising.

(Also in Britain and British colonies, cunning-folk often acted as witch-hunters. So, sorry, granddaughters of the witches they couldn’t burn: you’re actually the granddaughters of the witches who threw innocent people under the bus to deflect suspicion. Or because they genuinely believed those people were evil. Or for the payout. Take your pick.)

I’m also not sure about the assertion that their services were free. In Britain, at least, cunning-folk definitely did not work for free as a rule- why would they, when this was their livelihood? They often received payment in trade rather than currency, but...they very much did expect payment of SOME sort, as I understand it. You have to eat somehow, after all, and I’m not sure one could run a totally self-sufficient farm and a folk medicine/magic practice at the same time.

And even if you could, still better to have Old Tom down the lane mend your fence in exchange for physicking his cow than do it yourself, right? Save yourself the work.

The assumption of total altruism is one of my big issues with this ask series, and the other is the idea that wise women knew Good Medicine and doctors did not. Obviously, yes, early medical doctors were often convinced that folk medicine practitioners had nothing to offer the field, and I’m sure some practices by some wise women/cunning-folk worked.

But.

Some of the latter were also, to put it bluntly, full of shit.

There WERE people, unfortunately, who used the title of “Wise Woman” or “Cunning-Man” or whatever to fleece their community out of resources in exchange for dodgy cures and ineffective charms. Because that’s just how humanity goes: some people are good, some people are evil, and some people are just out to make a buck (so to speak) however they can. I find it very hard to believe that all laws against Quackery(TM) were totally motivated by early modern doctors’ fragile egos, simply because bona fide quacks have been around forever. From my past research, it seems that that British cunning-folk at least seemed given to pronouncing illness that doctors could not diagnose, the result of curses or hexes. While many did practice herbalism, and some herbalism has medical value given that many medicinal chemicals now usually synthesized are found in plants...there was another side of it, too, that could frequently involve attributing medical problems to magical causes.

And I would be very surprised if that were a phenomenon exclusive to Britain and its colonies.

I understand the longing for a time of free, quality medical treatment from your local badass village wisewoman, protected by her reverential community from evil doctors and omnipresent witch-hunters. I really do. But it seems to me that, for a variety of reasons, that time never actually existed.

(Also I would definitely like a citation on the antiseptics thing. Just because they thought garlic could ward off evil or something doesn’t mean they understood that it had antiseptic properties, or advocated for using it in effective ways. And I can’t really blame doctors for questioning ideas like that- phrased that way, it does sound like rural superstition. If nobody knows the background logic behind why something works, and it only works some of the time, and the people saying it works are making that claim for reasons that fly in the face of then-current science...you might understandably think it doesn’t work at all.)

(It’s not like the cunning-folk were saying “use autoclaves for your surgical tools to avoid infection!” and the doctors shot back with “INFECTION IS A MYTH INVENTED BY SATAN!!!!” At least, not that I know of.)

[tothepointofinsanity]

I know by now that I have a "type" to the characters I like in media, so it wouldn't be that outrageous for me to say that Sayaka feels bpd-coded.

[tassium]

I'm just so mad and upset and SO SAD.

I purposefully collect four things:

US pennies and other interesting coins

Enamel pins

Polyhedral dice

Rubiks cubes

Packing for this move was the last time I saw anything on that list except the rubiks cubes.

[july-19th-club]

honestly the whole blood donation hundred and forty eight slash potential thousands balancing the books of life and death thing is not that crazy. average catholic salvation-math logic

[skenpiel]

wish i was a witch for real that would be so badass. god i would do anything for a magic broom

[isabelguerra]

i dont have an actual name for it but depressed college au is probably one of my favorites. i dont really care for the adults in paranatural and thinking about how the activity club/others might grow up and continue their lives is so much more interesting to me