#trolls-gone-mild

[thewertsearch]

EB: but then you finally killed a guy you liked, and… EB: not so cool anymore? AG: Yeah. OH! AG: Ok, that's not quite right. He's the second person I cared a8out who I killed. […] AG: I guess she wound up getting me 8ack pretty good though, so we're even.

Man...

I know I've been dissecting them for thousands of pages, but sometimes I have to take a step back and remind myself how deeply, deeply fucked up the trolls' lives are. Their teen dramas are our horror movies.

AG: Oh, also, TECHNICALLY I attempted to kill that same guy around the same time. […] AG: I think I had a really juvenile attitude a8out killing 8ack then. I think I was trying too hard? […] AG: […] I was such a confused kid! I didn't know anything a8out what killing really means. I was trying to fake it, and it caused me nothing 8ut pro8lems.

Vriska’s definitely making progress, but she still has a lot of work to do.

She’s correctly identified the problem – that she's fundamentally misunderstood what it means to kill – but her solution is to assume that there's a mature, correct way to be a serial killer, and she just needs to find it.

Grow up, she tells herself. Become the right kind of murderer, and this horrible, horrible feeling will go away.

EB: so… if killing isn't exactly wrong, then what is it? EB: what do you mean by "what killing really means"? AG: I guess I have to admit I don't actually know that much a8out humans either! AG: Other than that you are all pretty soft and mild mannered and seem to 8e friendlier, and think killing totally sucks.

It's very telling, I think, that Vriska doesn't actually answer John's question. She doesn't know what killing really means - and instead of admitting that to herself, she immediately changes the subject.

What she's refusing to acknowledge, I think, is that killing makes her feel like shit. That's what it means to her - but she can't face that yet. That's disgusting.

That's weakness.

AG: When a troll comes of age, you 8etter 8elieve it means they're going to start killing. AG: It's what we do as a race. We are very effective conquerors, and as such, we practically domin8 our galaxy. […]

And to Alternia, killing means serving your empire. Any other justifications its servants invent are irrelevant - they're nothing more than window dressing to the fact that empire is murder, and to be a troll is to participate in its violence.

The empire is gone, of course - but for now, it's still alive in its children's heads.

[vilevenom]

One more quick little thing before I head to bed for the night! This one is for @em-doods, because we got to chatting about some sweet, sweet JD and Clay sadness ❤️ If you haven't gone to check out her adorable trolls art, I highly recommend it! I especially recommend checking out this post here, as well as this one, since those are the versions of BroZone's parents referenced in this ficlet~

It's relatively short, but I hope you enjoy it, anyway!

One of the last things John Dory had expected when he'd settled himself on the beach outside Bruce's resort was Clay plopping himself down next to him. Truthfully, they'd been getting along much better in the few months that had passed since Floyd had been rescued, but there was still plenty of tension between the middle and eldest brother. They'd talked through a small handful of issues, such as Clay's bitterness about John taking all the fun out of him being the 'Fun Boy', and John's incessant need for their past performances to be 'perfect'. However, the two still did not tend to purposefully seek out each others company.

"Uh…hello?" John chuckled rather awkwardly, offering Clay a lopsided smile, "What's up?"

Clay simply stared out at the ocean for a moment, before turning his gaze to John Dory. "Tell me about Mom and Dad."

John blinked, a bit taken aback by the sudden demand without preamble. "Sorry, what?"

Clay rolled his eyes, but didn't seem particularly annoyed by John's confusion. "Tell me about Mom and Dad. I don't really remember a whole lot, and I know you've got a memory like a steel trap."

"Oh. I suppose you were only about nine when they were taken, weren't you?" John mostly muttered to himself, rubbing at his chin. "Okay, sure. Uh, is there anything in particular you wanna know?"

With a short shrug Clay leaned back on his hands, turning to stare back out at the ocean. "I dunno…Got any fun stories from when we were kids?"

John thought about that for a moment, before snapping his fingers, a grin spreading across his face. "Yeah! When we were little, Mom used to make up all sorts of fun little dances while she was doing chores and things around the pod. She liked singing well enough, but she loved dancing. One of my personal favorites of hers was her laundry dance. When you were old enough to walk on your own, you started trying to mimic her dance moves. You usually wound up falling over and tugging whatever laundry Mom had just hung up down, and getting all tangled up." John let out a fond laugh, shifting to sit forward a bit. "She'd laugh and help you get untangled, all while you cried about messing up the dance."

"Is that why you got me doing the choreo for BroZone?" Clay sniffed, a small frown on his face.

John sighed, his joy at recalling his mother quickly dampened by Clay's apparent need to constantly remind John Dory of what a horrible brother he'd been. "Maybe a bit, yeah," he admitted quietly, letting out a little puff of air. "You loved dancing. With Mom, especially. I guess, maybe…maybe it was a bit to keep her spirit alive with us. With the band." He sighed, rubbing at his face, "That sounds selfish."

Clay snorted, shooting John a wry smile. "It totally does, man."

"Shut up," John laughed, shoving his brother gently in the shoulder. Clay swayed slightly, but made no move to retaliate. John chewed on the inside of his cheek for a moment, before blurting, "You look like her."

Clay startled slightly, turning wide eyes on John. "Excuse me, what?"

"Sorry, I-ugh," John raked his fingers though his hair in mild irritation at himself. "You look like Mom. You take after her. A lot. The rest of us sort of take mostly after Dad, but you look so much like Mom. And it's way more apparent, now that you're older."

"Do I?" Clay sat up and glanced at his hands, flexing his fingers.

"Yeah, bro. Mom was super into books, and she had all these amazing ideas," John sighed wistfully, watching the waves roll into the sandy shore, "She was super smart, and really kind. And she was just ridiculous. Any time one of us would go to her with some stupid little kid idea, she'd do her best to help us achieve whatever it was, even if it was practically impossible." He laughed, before he began to rummage around int the pockets of his vest, finally pulling out a well worn photo. "Here! I almost forgot I had this on me."

Clay accepted the photo reverently, eyes wide as he took in the still frame from so long ago in their past. A very young John Dory was stood next to a tall, lean looking troll with voluminous teal hair. Clay barely recognized himself in the photo, a trolling no older than perhaps five, propped on her hip, shyly waving at the camera. "Is that…?"

"That's you and Mom, yeah. I think this picture is right around your fourth or fifth hatchday. You were starting to get a bit too big to be carried around, but you kept getting jealous of Floyd, so Mom would make a point of carrying you around as much as she could."

"Oh," Clay murmured, startling a bit as a wet drop hit the corner of the picture. He tipped his head back to find the sky devoid of clouds, only to quickly touch his face and realize he'd begun to cry.

"Even despite being in that cage, she always did her best to make sure everyone always had a smile on their face," John continued quietly, not noticing his brothers plight. "After Mom and Dad got taken, you started trying to do that. Fill that void that Mom left behind, trying to make everyone laugh or smile…" Finally, he looked up to find Clay with silent tears pouring down his ruddy cheeks. He looked alarmed for a moment, reaching out hesitantly, not quite sure if his touch was welcome, only to jerk in surprise as Clay fell into his side with a sniffle. With mild trepidation he gently settled his arm around Clay's shoulders, giving him a little squeeze.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, the only sound the soft crashing of the waves on the beach, and Clay's quiet, hiccupping sobs.

"I forgot what she looked like," Clay admitted after a time, not moving from his brother's hold.

"Sometimes I forget, too," John sighed, rubbing Clay's shoulder, "It's why I'm so glad I managed to get hold of our old photo albums when I went back to the tree. You can keep that one, if you want."

"Can I?"

"Of course. I've got plenty more, back in Rhonda."

"Thanks, JD."

"Anytime."

[brights-place]

Branch x country rock troll

Branch X Country Rock! S/O

Pairings: Branch X Reader

Warnings: Country Slang, Fluff, Angst, and Mild swearing

A/N: Sorry for the late post I've been kind of busy hon! anyways take the request! <33

- Branch was following poppy to help get the cows that they had lost from pop village and poppy new one perosn Delta Dawn who could help them! - That's when you two first met of course, The country architecture makes use of natural colors with patchwork fabrics, using of a lot of wood and natural structures like cactuses being in common use. Colors tend to be beige, with use of sandy colors like yellow, pale orange and brown as the air smelled like BBQ and an mix of smell of spring, wild flowers, primroses and bluebells, honeysuckle, and blackthorn. - Delta nodded listening to poppy as branch raised an brow when hearing Delta call behind her to an F/C Troll fitting with all the other trolls... Well to poppy (name) did but to branch he couldn't help but purse his lips - As soon as you now stood beside Delta Dawn you chuckled smirking tipping your cowboy hat towards Branch who froze staring at you - "It's darn good ta see some awful new folk!" you said laughing crossing your arms beside Delta who rolled her eyes playfully "Meet my friend (name) queen poppy... They are the best roper in our town" Delta said placing an hand on your shoulder as you chuckled "Done heard y'all fancy pop trolls need some help" poppy squealed as branch eyes you suspiciously

- Branch didn't trust you for a bit but he can't believe eyeing your figure. - You looked like the common Country Troll you had the basic troll body type from the waist upwards, save their choice of attire, with the lower half of their bodies being that of a horse, complete with hooves and tails.  - He noticed you have large front teeth at the front of their upper jaw and either rounded or pointy ears. Your hair was puffy, but does stick up. They tend to have a beigetone coloration. -Your Colors vary per individual and they either wear full-body outfits that cover everything but their head, hooves and tail, though some are seen wearing typical 10 gallon cowboy hats and trucker caps, or just a jacket or shirt around their chest area. Their legs are quite small, and their overall body tends to be the biggest part of their physical build, with a lot of it taken up by their centaur-like part. Their upper area often is comparable to other Trolls despite this, and isn't much different in size at all. Despite the differences, they physically stand about the same height as other Trolls from head to feet, though their overall size is smaller due to how they keep their hair. At first glance, they all appeared friendly but you? He couldn't help but pause - "Ain'tcha pretty as a peach" You said bending down towards him as his eyes wiened gone from his thoughts as he raises an brow as you chuckle lightly - When you three left to help Poppy asked you everything about yourself which you laughed an enjoyed unaware that Branch was noting all the information down... He didn't know why but he just did - But when poppy asked about your genre of country you told her you wrote country rock which branch was invested in asking you about it out of nowhere taking out an note book and pencil from his hair as you explained to him. - "Country rock is a style of music that fuses traditional country music with rock 'n' roll. While country rock bears close resemblance to some folk rock and rockabilly, it is considered a genre unto itself!" you explained with an smile as Branch nodded - After helping them out and he couldn't help but watch you easily lasso all the missing cows back towards the fenced area - He couldn't help but be fascinated about how you appreciate the simpler things in life like natural beauty and spending time with those you cared for.

- Would listen to your Country rock songs and how you were able to mix the two together - You told him how The Country Trolls love Country music, and their life is one big shindig. Although all of you appear friendly at first, these Trolls can be mistrusting towards strangers, especially towards Trolls of other Tribes, and can show aggression like before they made peace - You told him that Country Children might be expected to work from the moment they're born by their parents. The typical Country Troll is simple and laid-back, but can be highly-strung when angered or things go wrong. - He wanted to be one of those people he didn't know why but he needed. - They also have a strong sense of family and community, and value traditional values. - Dating you had given branch and small break of pop trolls as when he goes hanging out with you. - Branch soon started to hangout with you on the country side when he gets to sick of everybody - He likes to sit on this tree beside you as he talks about his interests and plans he had about safety that you listened to as you tuned your guitar

- You two would start visiting each other more then usual some times staying over at eachothers people starting to suspect your dating - Branch learns country slang and had gotten used to your accent was wheezing and laughing when you curse someone out who seemed rude - He fell first and you fell harder for him

- You two would confess to each other when you made an new country rock song - he's been tryiing to confess for awhile but gave up last minute so when he was lucky and relaxed he confessed. He's so romantic and would confess to you with an huge relaxed face as you turn into an flustered mess "Heavens To Betsy! Branch" You said laughing covering your face abit

- You too would officially date after like 5 dates

- when you two are together and your speaking in slanged words in annoyance or arguing with someone. Poppy and the other pop trolls have to turn to eachother then turn to branch who has to explain with an bored expression about teh slang words or go to other country trolls who were chuckling at the scene. - You love eachother so much and when he takes you to meet his family for the first time in ever... it was whoa... so much

- When he introduced you to his brothers your jaw dropped so fast your boyfriend was in the famous boy band but you didnt care and just kissed his cheek - You would call him by weird southern pet names like baby, sweetheart, precious, buttercup, princess, love bug. The list could go on. You loves how flustered he gets whenever you call him any of these names.

reblogs + comments are appreciated ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

©brights-place 2023 — do not repost on another platform, copy, translate or edit my works! if you fit my DNI list please don't interact!

[baileypie-writes]

Veneer x male reader where the reader is just getting fucking demolished by a cold, fever, stomach ache and a sore throat pwease🥺

A/N ~ Sure! I decided to make this a part 2 of one of my previous fics. Hope you enjoy!

~I’ll Take Care Of You!~

~Part 2~

(Part 1 here!)

Veneer x Male!Sick!Reader

Fandom: Trolls 3: Band Together

Relationship: Romantic

Synopsis: Your cold has gotten much worse. Luckily, Veneer remains by your side.

Warnings: sickness(Reader), stomach ache but no vomiting(Reader)

You were sure you were dying. Three days before, you thought that this was just a mild cold. But oh, how wrong you were. Your fever and sore throat were still there, and they brought a new friend. A stomach ache.

For the last few days, you’ve been decaying in your bed, only getting up to use the bathroom and to shower. Food, water and medicine was being supplied by Veneer, who insisted on staying over to take care of you. You didn’t have the energy to argue, so you just let him. You felt a bit bad though, because his sister, Velvet, calls him at least three times a day to try to get him to work on their songs. But each time, he rejects. He has his mind set on nursing you back to health.

~~~~

Another coughing fit erupted out of you, this one being the third one today. It was just about ten seconds long, but it felt like an eternity of you almost throwing up your own lungs. As usual, when it was over, Veneer hands you a glass of water, and you chug it down. The cold liquid cools down the fiery itchiness, but only for a few seconds. You feel pure disappointment and despair as the familiar, but uncomfortable symptom of your cold comes back.

You groan loudly. “Why can’t I just be better already?”

Veneer gave you the saddest look. It almost looked like he was more miserable than you. Almost. “I’m so sorry (name)! I wish there was something more I could do.”

“Trust me, Veneer, you’re already doing a lot. I didn’t ask you to take care of me, but you are anyway. That’s more than I could ask for.” You reassured him. He gave a small smile.

Suddenly, his phone rang. You looked at the caller icon. Surprise surprise, it was Velvet. Right on schedule. Veneer rolled his eyes. “She’s probably calling to complain again. He right back.”

Once he left the room, you layed down and just stared at the ceiling. You felt your eyelids get heavy, and you started drifting off.

~~~~

By the time you woke up, the sun was setting. You yawned, at looked around the room. Veneer was sitting at your desk, scrolling through social media. When he heard you, he turned to face you.

“Hey! How’re you feeling?” He asked.

As you woke up more, you realized that you felt much better than you did before. Your throat wasn’t as sore, and your stomach ache was mostly gone. “I actually feel… a lot better. I guess all that medicine is working.”

“Great! I’m so happy for you!” He ran over and gave you a hug. He also felt your forehead while he was close. “I think your fever is gone too!”

You smiled, and returned the hug. “It’s all thanks to you. Thanks for taking care of me.”

“It was nothing!”

~~~

(Two Days Later…)

You were beginning to think that the hug wasn’t such a good idea, as you scrambled through Veneer’s kitchen to fulfill his many requests.

You had gotten him sick. And a sick Veneer was not easy to take care of. You silently cured Velvet for ditching you. But hey, at least you can repay your boyfriend for passing your sickness onto him. Even if he was being super needy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~baileypie-writes

[fleet-off]

@aantinous’s marvelous tags on this post reminded me of the silly li’l shapeshifter snake!Vegas AU @theflowergirl Lily and I came up with over DMs a while back!

Snake!Vegas slips into the main family home pretty regularly pre-canon. Sometimes to spy. Sometimes to ruin Tankhun’s afternoon.

One day Pete catches the snake mid-troll! Tankhun is very upset. Pete obliviously sticks the snake in a Tupperware in his room to let it go once his boss’s ire dies down.

He drops a little food in the Tupperware. He doesn’t know what snakes eat, but what’s good for Petes is probably good for snakes?

He has a nice little workout after his shift. A nice little shower. A nice little dance around the room in the half-nude.

That evening he releases the snake in the yard and moves on.

Except now the snake? Keeps showing up at odd times?? Pete could swear it’s the same snake. It doesn’t look like a local species, maybe it’s an escaped pet.

“Maybe it’s just looking for a home,” he thinks, and doesn’t think about why that hits him so hard.

(Meanwhile. Vegas was in it for the spying, the trolling, and the mild voyeurism but now it’s—oh. Oh, he’s? Keeping me safe? This is…new.)

So there’s a snake in Pete’s life now.

Occasionally there’s also a snake in Pete’s bed, which is always a fun discovery in the morning. Still, Pete can’t blame a snake for being coldblooded, can he? And the snake has a cute little :) face. And it hasn’t tried to bite him yet. It may be bonded?

This is normal and fine.

(Getting into Pete’s room involves sneaking out of the minor family home, traversing the main family grounds in serpent form, and sneaking all the way up to the bodyguard quarters. Vegas has not slept with one of Kinn’s escorts in ages—he simply does not have the time.)

(Look, he’s getting under the skin of this main family dog who keeps getting tasked to follow him. It’s funny.)

(It’s turning into instinct. Like birds flying back to the same forest, like turtles returning to the same beach.)

(If he thinks too hard about it, he’s not going to be able to justify it anymore—he does not think about it.)

Vegas’s torture suitcase contains syringes and vials of hallucinatory drugs and neurotoxins in this AU. Just BTW. <3

The plot still plots for the most part, Pete still gets captured…the torment at the safehouse, though, is less Vegas taking his helplessness out on the guy who ruined his plans and more Vegas oscillating emotionally between “he was kind to me nobody’s kind to me what the fuck” and “he’s a representation of my weakness, he was kind to an innocent animal and I was stupid enough to play along.”

The later realization that Pete would choose to show empathy to human Vegas too? Ruinous.

So Vegas comes to torment or talk to or feed Pete during the day…and the snake comes to curl around Pete’s ankle at night. Pete does not know how the hell his snake got here, but he’s pretty delirious and appreciates the small comfort even if it’s a hallucination.

And of course the truth has to come out at the safehouse, because all truths come out at the safehouse.

So it’s invasive, and weird as shit, and a bit of a goddamn mess...but, like. Vegas was already invasive, weird as shit, and a bit of a goddamn mess.

The home thing is starting to make more sense, for Pete. A lot of things are.

(Do some snake-y features show up during the sex, too? Little bit of fang action? Maybe!!)

So the collapse. The escape. The return to a normal no longer satisfied by its stasis.

The second night after Pete’s return, he finds a snake curled around the leg of his bed.

He knows. He knows, he knows, he knows.

Miserably, he lifts the snake up onto the mattress beside him anyway.

Halfway through the night, he feels warm and solid and human curled up behind him. He doesn’t move.

In the morning, the snake is gone.

(How does this play out in the finale? Who knows. ^^)

[mlmxreader]

My Favourite Shadow | Aragorn x gn!reader

『••✎••』

↳ ❝ Hi!

How you doing?

Was wondering if I could request "It's you and me, always" with Aragorn please?

Thank you have a nice night ! :) ❞

: ̗̀➛ Aragorn has a favourite Ranger, and that Ranger has a favourite shadow

: ̗̀➛ VERY mild violence references

•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•

Aragorn gently nudged you as he came to sit down at your left, just letting you know that he was there and he was alright. He had come back in one piece. From the corner of his eye, be could see the candles flicker gently as the evening breeze softly caressed the windows outside.

The fur blankets on the bed looked all too tempting, soft and warm, and cosy beyond compare, and with it being so late at night, it was the only thing that he could think of - sleeping in a warm, soft, dry bed.

It was a huge change from what he had been used to the past few months; cold hard ground with damp mud that would squish loudly and sink with the slightest of movements.

For months he had been sleeping like that, and the temptation of an actual bed was more than hard and difficult to ignore. Temptation of such a thing was always so hard to ignore.

As a shiver ran down from his shoulders all the way to the soles on his feet, Aragorn could only let his body tremble slightly; you seemed to be utterly unphased by the cold, leaning against him as a quiet hum slipped from the back of your throat.

Your hand came to rest on top of his, gently resting on his thigh; he turned his hand over so his palm faced upwards, fingers lacing with yours as he gave you a little squeeze.

Reassurance mixed with remorse. Aragorn looked at you with an awful fondness, his lips turned into a slight smile as if he was musing and thinking of something of great importance.

Slowly, his wonderful grey eyes dropped to your lips, and he leaned in a little closer, letting you close the distance as he always did. It was a gentle and slow kiss, you let go of his hand, lacing your fingers into the long dark hairs at the back of his head.

You grinned into the kiss just as he did, giddy to know that you were both with each other again and that you were not going to be apart for a good long while. Inseparable once again.

More than anything you both could feel an overwhelmingly harsh amount of relief, so much so that there were tears prickling in the corner of your eyes and threatening to spill.

Two Rangers were a rare sight and then some. Two Rangers often meant a lot of trouble - orcs or goblins or large packs of giant spiders or trolls. But not you and Aragorn.

The locals came to know and understand that you and Aragorn together meant almost next to nothing; the pair of you were often seen together and no one really ever took more than a single glance either way. They did not care what happened behind closed doors in the slightest, thankfully.

But now Aragorn was far more concerned with getting to bed, and smiled as he pulled away.

His cold and rough hands settled on your cheeks, his thumbs gently moving up and down slowly and softly as you smiled and leaned into his tender grip. A soft sigh came from you as you closed your eyes for a moment.

"I am glad to see you again," he whispered so softly. "I missed you so terribly... I must apologise for being gone for so long, I am truly sorry."

You shook your head, telling him that although you did appreciate his concern and candour, it was not his fault that he had been gone for so long. "That's nonsense. I missed you, too, I truly did... but the good news is that I took care of the spiders in the valleys... big brutes they were - white with red crosses on them. Never seen anything like that... they didn't want to go down in the slightest."

"I am proud," Aragorn replied with sincerity and a grin, "to take such a task by yourself - I am very proud of you, my beloved. I never would have been able to do it on my own."

"I tell you, it was not easy," you laughed softly as you pulled away slightly, enough to be able to look into those pretty grey eyes of his.

"No?" Aragorn mused, tilting his head to the side slightly.

"No," you shook your head as you laughed so softly again. "It would have been far easier with you at my side, and with me at yours."

"Well, what do you expect?" He mused so kindly as he gazed at you so sweetly. "Did we not make the vow that it's you and me, always? It's me and you until there are no more stars. No more moon. No more mountains. It is always you and me, is it not?"

You nodded slowly, on the very brink of grinning ad you cleared your throat and licked your lips. "Just as the sky is blue and mice are brown. As long as there are valleys and mountains, I am yours, and you are mine... and I will always find my way back to you, back to my home."

"And I will always follow," Aragorn agreed with a soft whisper. "My Ranger, I will always follow your shadow. Until my last breath."

"Follow me now," you murmured, gripping his hands tightly and leading him towards the bed. "Follow me where it's warm and soft and dry."

"Happily," he agreed, hoping that you would sleep to his right. "Let me follow your shadow."

You got into the bed, lifting up the fur blankets so Aragorn could get beneath them; instinct kicked in, and you snuggled into his side almost immediately as you yawned and stretched.

He grinned, kissing your forehead before letting his body lose its tension; he listened to your breathing for a moment, closing his eyes.

"You will always be my favourite shadow," you murmured under your breath. "Always there when I want you around. Always by my side... I love you..."

[roetrolls]

Loose Reins

Zerkev is just about sick of dealing with clowns. Putting up with Yumeno’s useless ass was bad enough, but this? This is something else.

“I should kill them both right now,” the Marauder spits, his vision practically blurred with the heat of his rage. In front of him, the Dominion cocks his head, a finger resting against his cheek and the faintest hint of a smile on his lips.

“Just them?” he asks, amused. “How merciful.”

In a flash, three golden prongs are leveraged at his throat. The giant allows his glowing gaze to drift, briefly, to the trident in his overseer’s hands.

“You crossed the line,” Zerkev growls through a throat full of gravel, expression dangerously cold. “A smarter man would be begging on his knees for my forgiveness.”

“A younger man, maybe. I fear I’d struggle to get up again.”

“Is this a joke to you, Mahkir?”

“A joke? Never. Amusing though, certainly.”

Zerkev’s face darkens, almost imperceptibly, but the purpleblood is keen enough to spot it. He straightens slightly in his throne, shifting away from the weapon with as much subtlety as he can manage. Imposing as Harlan’s stature may be, it is not his presence that sucks the air from the room.

“Take your weapon,” the general orders.

Harlan regards him curiously. “Is it a fight you want, Pravus? I thought you smarter than that.”

“Take. Your weapon.”

Wordlessly, the Dominion follows his command, reaching over his seat’s left side to close his bulky fingers around the club that lays propped against its base. He twirls it idly in his hand and moves to rise, empty right fist gripping the throne’s arm for leverage.

Then, before he can stand, he is forced back by the triad of spikes that Zerkev plunges through his bicep, piercing both skin and muscle in one single, practiced thrust. Pink light bounces off the golden surface once more as Harlan turns his eyes to the injury, the mild bewilderment they carry masking any hint of the pain he must be feeling.

“I see,” he sneers before turning his focus back to the seadweller.

“Where did you find him?”

“Oh? Was I meant to be involved in your little manhunt?”

He can feel the fury pooling in his gut, but Zerkev maintains an eerie calm as he turns the trident, a half inch at most, and watches the clown grit his teeth in response. A warning.

“You involved yourself,” he hisses coolly, “when you sent your dogs after my child.”

“Such a strange practice, parenthood. Hard to imagine you of all trolls denying the natural order of things so egregiously.”

“I did not ask for your commentary.”

“You’re not here for a chat?”

Zerkev growls, fins flaring in agitation, and Harlan breaks into a grin. It’s rare to see such emotional displays from the Marauder, and even with the man’s weapon lodged in his arm, he is clearly delighted. They both know how transparent--how vulnerable--he has just made himself.

“What are you here for, Pravus? Do you know?”

“I am reminding you of your place.”

“How is that going?”

It takes everything in Zerkev’s power not to twist his trident in response. As much as Harlan deserves the goring, rewarding him with such a strong reaction would serve only to grant him more power. The Marauder exhales through his nose and squares his jaw, certain that his knuckles have gone white beneath his gloves.

“You are on very thin ice, Mahkir,” he warns him instead, fighting to keep his voice level over the thrum of blood in his ears.

“So I can see.”

With a snarl, Zerkev lunges forward and grabs the behemoth by the collar, yanking hard to bring the clown’s face level with his own. Harlan’s eyes widen slightly, surprise momentarily wiping the smug expression from his face.

“I understand this may be beyond what a heartless bastard like you can comprehend,” the seadweller grits, “but I want you to listen to me, Mahkir. Very. Carefully. If you ever touch my son again, I will kill you.”

His quiet intensity is enough to startle even Harlan, and the clown opens his mouth silently in search of a response.

“You hear me, you overgrown brute? No fancy threats, no dramatic vagueries; the next time you come for one of mine, it’s your head.” He jiggles the trident for good measure, his tone eerily calm for the promise it carries.

Harlan regards him carefully, still hunched awkwardly in Zerkev’s grip, then that cantankerous smile emerges once more. “You know, the past twelve sweeps make far more sense to me now.”

Confusion and wariness creep onto the seadweller’s face in tandem. Harlan continues with a hum. 

“I’d assumed it was merely your usual neuroses, but… Blood of all things? That is a rather glaring weakness, isn’t it?”

The Marauder’s stony expression drops, and Harlan pulls out of his slackened grasp to sit up straight again.

“I’d have cut my losses the moment I learned of it, personally. Terrible liability.” He taps a finger against his chin, his casual, musing tone a stark contrast to the threat behind his gaze. “So easy to leverage.”

The comment, as simple as it is, is exactly enough to push the general over the edge. He can almost feel it as the final straw lands upon his back, and with fangs bared, he at last gives in to the impulse that has plagued him since he entered this wretched chapel: 

Hurt him. 

A growl bubbles from Zerkev’s chest as he wrenches the trident in Harlan’s arm, inviting three thick streams of viscous purple blood to ooze from the wound as he gives the staff a vicious, painful twist. The Dominion masks his grimace with a snarl, free arm shooting across his chest to grip the pole and hold it still. 

“Your audacity is mind-boggling,” Zerkev hisses. “You want to play extortion, Mahkir? Fine.”

Satisfied for now with the violence he has inflicted, he tugs the trident free from his underling’s flesh, leaving the giant to clamp his dominant left hand over the gaping holes now bleeding freely in his arm. 

He should have known better than to threaten the snake himself. Harlan thinks himself invincible, and any harm Zerkev could promise the man would be easily dismissed. Making a real, actionable threat is going to require a different approach.

“If Mallum ever comes to harm, by your words or by your actions,” he scowls, “I will personally see to it that no grub bearing your name will leave the caverns again.”

The Dominion’s lip twitches, pulling back into a lopsided snarl that broadcasts exactly how easily this new angle has burrowed beneath his skin. Zerkev, however, is too busy seething to appreciate the triumph.

“That glorious symbol of yours will be nothing more than a marker-- a note to the caverns to cull on sight and exterminate your pathetic spawn like the pests they are.”

Now it is Harlan’s turn to growl. It rolls from his chest in a low, menacing wave, blanketing the church with the noise. His rumbling permeates the senses, seeming almost to grow louder as the scene begins to shift.

Shift?

Sunlight trickles past the curtains in a thin, shining stream, guiding Zurven’s eye across each of the sleeping forms slowly coming into focus beside him.

There is no trident in his hand-- only Veylin’s delicate fingers laced loosely with his own. The sound that all but shakes their walls is merely Benjin’s gentle snore, oddly soothing despite its volume, and perfectly in place within the dimly lit bedroom. 

The oracle sits up sluggishly, still blinking the sleep from his eyes and squinting through the dark to look at Mallum dozing on the bed’s outer edge. Zurven watches his chest rise and fall, gills fluttering in time, and takes a deep breath of his own.

He’s going to throttle that idiot.

[limon-rat]

"I did come back, but no one was there. "It wasn't until I heard about you saving the world from the rock apocalypse that I realized you were even still alive."

I thought about this too hard and now y'all get a one shot <3 (cw: mild panic, implied death one of which didn't actually happen but he doesn't need to know that yet)

~~~~~~~~

He just wanted to find them.

He wasn’t even sure what started it. Maybe he was tired of avoiding it? Maybe he just got curious. He wasn’t entirely sure.

But one day, just a few years after John Dory had finally gotten into a rhythm, he decided to go back for his brothers. He wasn’t sure where the others had gone off to, but he knew Branch should still be home. He could put some faith in Floyd and hope he was there too but if anyone would be home, it’d be Branch.

At least he hoped so…

The dread began when he got outside of town.

He had to sneak into Bergen Town using long-abandoned tunnels. They lead out the south end of town, the same tunnels he’d used when he’d left. Ironic, that he was using them now to go back. But something was wrong. He couldn’t really tell, but the tunnel seemed… disturbed. Or maybe used? The dust wasn’t as thick as it should be after three years, but there weren’t any footprints. It was just enough to put him off.

But he’d made up his mind and he didn’t really feel like walking back yet. So into the tunnel he went.

Only when he got out of the tunnel did he realize something was really wrong.

The Tree was dark.

Usually, the Troll Tree was glowing with light from the pods, casting a soft, multi-color glow on the surrounding town buildings. But it was completely dark now, not a single pod lit.

He didn’t know why he didn’t turn back right then and there. Everything was wrong, nothing was how he remembered. Far too dark, far too quiet. It didn’t even look like his old home, just some dying tree.

And yet, instead of turning tail, he began his search, careful to be quiet. The Bergens should be asleep but he’s learned it’s better to be safe than sorry. He walked slowly, careful to take in every detail he could in the dark. Torn and uprooted sprouts, massive holes in the ground, scars that hadn’t healed, deep gouges in the tree… Violence. A lot of violence.

The tree stayed eerily quiet, and the more he looked, the more he felt unnerved. It was quiet but also dull. The colors from the plants and leaves seemed drained. As if the trolls just existing there had brought color to the foliage.

…They probably had actually.

But now that he’d acknowledged it, that everything was quiet and dull and everything the trolls weren’t, that dread started to change into something more venomous.

He hated it.

If the plants were dead and the pods weren’t lit that meant the trolls were gone  which meant-

No, they’re here. They have to be.

His pace picked up as he neared the Tree’s trunk, quickly whipping his hair to get him up high. As he moved, his body went into auto pilot, adjusting to paths and branches that he didn’t even recognize now like second nature. By the time he was getting to the western edge of the canopy, he was in a dead sprint.

Please be here.

Finally, he found his old home. His grandma Rosiepuff’s pod. It was still how he’d left it, save for the newly grown vines creeping up the sides. It looked… abandoned.

They’re here. He reassured himself again, even the voice in his head filled with doubt.

The door opened the moment he approached, unfurling just as it had done before, as if it were still filled with life. He stepped inside and he already knew everything was wrong.

“Branch?” He called quietly. Something cracked under his foot and whipping his head to look down, he found a picture frame. Why was it on the ground? It was supposed to be hung by the record player. This one was a picture of him and his brothers. Branch had just joined the band, right before the tour. They were all in their stupid puffy jackets and Branch was drowning in his, a massive grin on his face.

It made John’s heart hurt.

Looking back up, he tried again, “Branch? Grandma? Where are you guys?”

No answer. The pod remained completely silent. It was never quiet.

"Branch!? Grandma!?" John tried again, tail thrashing behind him, feeling a disgusting thing begin to coil around his chest. Where were they? They can't be- they aren't gone, are they? No no, they couldn't be. They're fine, they're just... they…

Where did they go?

Where is his baby brother?

"Branch!" John tried once more, trying the bedrooms now. They had to be here. Grandma couldn't leave not without Branch-

What if she's gone?

No, no she's not gone. She wouldn't. She'd made it this far, she wouldn't just-

Since when did she get a say in this?

Reaching the bedrooms, John was panting hard enough his throat burned and he was sure his ribs were trying to suffocate him but he had to find them-

The beds were made. The room was in the same shape as the outside -covered in dust and strangled by vines- but the beds were made. All of them but Branch’s, but even then it looked… wrong. Not like Branch had slept in it, like it’d been made and someone had just been laying on it, ruffling the blankets slightly. It wasn’t used, just touched.

But Branch wasn’t here.

And the same went for the kitchen. Dusty, littered with dry leaves and massive vines. There were even utensils out and Grandma didn’t just leave stuff out. Especially not on the stove, or even the table for fucks sake.

Outback was the same story. The door unfurled to let him out, resting gently against the branch. It looked just as decrepit as the rest of the tree, the laundry still on the laundry still on the line -she would never leave laundry still on the line- swaying in dry wind.

He searched the entire pod top to bottom and he never found them. They were gone. Gone. Along with everyone else. The entire tree was empty and it was torn apart and something bad happened.

What if-

What if the Bergens got tired of only one day a year.

What if they ate everyone-

He had to leave.

But everything was still here. He couldn’t leave it all here just to waste away…

He had space in his bag, right?

He could at least bring the last of his baby brother with him.

[wordsandrobots]

I have just realised that 70% of my 'no you fools*, Yamagi is not sweet, he's a sarcastic little jerk who just happens to get tongue-tied around his dummy of a crush' characterisation comes from two scenes centred on Hush and I find that quite funny for some reason.

*whether I am using 'fools' in the 'gender neutral way of addressing the room ala that joke about Dr Doom' sense or with actual malice depends entirely on which bit of fan-art I've glanced at most recently.

Also, I know I haven't centred it much outside of The Ares Affair owing the the direction the plot went, I need you to know: in my head, Yamagi and Chad being friends is on the one hand rooted in a lot of shared temperament, tea-appreciation and mutual understanding of each other's coping mechanisms, and on the other involves a significant amount of Chad making this face after effortlessly no-selling Yamagi's attempts to snark his way out of admitting how he's really feeling.

Those two can see through each other's bullshit like glass and I find it deeply amusing to put them together.

Eco, meanwhile, basically just trolls Yamagi any chance she gets. Eco is a troll, full stop.

Anyway, I've just had a chance to have all three of them in the same scene and it's gone swimmingly. Oh, you know what, have a mild [subject to editing] spoiler:

“I think,” she says to Yamagi, “you can just go with whatever feels right. Don't over-think it.” “Easy for you to say,” he grumbles, which makes Chad laugh. “Oh, and like you're any better.” “Who was it stayed up to midnight making sure the decorations for Merribit and Kavita coming home from the hospital were perfect?” “You hear this? The king of over-working is lecturing me.” “Yeah, no, I'm not helping fix that glass house.” Eco raises her cup, because she long ago swore to live for those who can't and because it's nice having somebody else there to bully Yamagi for her.

[lunanoc]

im intrigued by literally every single one of your wips but i want to know about the dmbj time travel and abo ones (and also the sleep fic, if you need an excuse to talk about it 👀)

to be honest i've had a look at what these wips are because i didn't even fully remember some of them, so the abo ones are actually just two versions of the same thing 😭 so since someone else asked, the abo one explanation is here"

"dmbj time travel" is the first ever dmbj i ever started writing waaay back when i hadn't even finished the dramas yet and it shows. i want to fix it because i like the basic idea behind it, it just needs A Lot of reworking because the characterization is uh. yeah. so no snippets from this one even if it's technically like 14k or something

it's supposed to be canon time travel where for some reason (i'm not sure yet since it's getting revamped) post-restart yucun wu xie, xiaoge, and pangzi transmigrate back into their own bodies from the start of canon (so think even before jin wantang comes to wu xie with the copy of chen pi ah si's silkbook) except none of them know the other two remember. it's supposed to feature, among other fun things:

wu xie and existential crisis #476, is this real life or it is just snake fantasy?

unresolved sanshu tension™️ part 3 because good things come in threes because wu sanxing is still around at this point, and for all he's resolved most of his grievances about his uncle, wu xie doesn't quite know how to face him, partly because their relationship carries so much baggage, partly because he knows how shrewd wu sanxing is, which leads into wu xie rushing into wu sanxing's shop with the silkbook becoming a 4d chess conversation where both parties are aware on different levels that the person they're talking to is hiding things. something something wu xie notices wu sanxing test for a face mask etc

because pingxie are established at this point, and because so far no one else has remembered anything except wu xie, xiaoge angst™️ the remix and wu xie thinking he'll have to love him from afar again

which leads into sand sea wu xie™️ the remix, because if he's gone that far back, why not take on the wangs earlier than planned

the scene that's the reason why this even exists an excuse, wu xie and xiaoge (who didn't meet in front of wu sanxing's shop like the first time bc wu xie was too busy playing 4d chess with himself) realizing at some point on the trip to the seven star palace that they both remember because wu xie decides to test their shared knocking code language on a whim. and then xiaoge looks at him. and they both have A Moment that they can't express because they're not supposed to know each other

another scene where they're both bastards who decide to troll pangzi when they meet with him, partly to test whether or not he remembers too (he does), which leads to pangzi sussing them out eventually and yelling at them, then hugging them

i don't really have much of anything else mostly because they do eventually go back to their own time, because i don't really see the point in rewriting canon, i'll think about it someday. maybe

the sleep fic is kind of the sister fic to the sleep xiaoge pov one and it's pretty unoriginal because it's been done 50 times already i am deeply unoriginal unfortunately , it's the "wu xie has insomnia after ten years later" fic. my personal take on it is wu xie, after book 8, went from mild to severe depression, and then spent the next five years after that in go go go mode where he essentially forced himself to shutdown as far as his own basic emotional needs went. and like a lot of people who suddenly stop after not allowing themselves to for a long time, things start coming out of the woodwork. so once xiaoge's back and he's finished tidying up in hangzhou, the iron triangle move to yucun, and suddenly wu xie can't sleep. he never had insomnia that severe before (and if he did he'd just take sleeping pills and be done with it), but now he either can't sleep, or when he does he has nightmares

xiaoge eventually notices wu xie doesn't look well (among all the other things he's noticed) and is increasingly tired, so he tries to help in his own ways. eventually they get together. i wish it was more thought out than that 😭

[feather-dancer]

I don't recall seeing "Like Lightning" before, what is that one about?

Def a title that won't make it to upload, just needed something to call the file name so I didn't end up in the situation Misc is in where I forgot what I was going to call it.

ANYWAY I have health issues. I don't pretend otherwise and while some things have predictable triggers (Sensory overload, big temperature shifts, getting cold) others are a completely unappreciated surprise. Last year my system chose violence and while I forget if it was a bad nerve flare up or just plain awful, a lot of what I was having to deal with on the day and the aftermath lined up ideally for a liddle exploration thing. Knowing my memory was already riddled with holes and I'd not be all that with it for a few days after from the aftereffects, past me had the sense to write down what was going on at the time:

Sudden shooting pains with no warning either entire limb or even just fingers

Weaker grip

Stiffness in walking and limbs

Spacing out

Mild pain headaches

Nerves going !!!

Jim post killing the stalkling would be the best timing for him to be suffering similar. Somehow wrote a bit when all that was going on and got left on the backburner likely lost to a memory blank. Since gone back to it to fix the partial gibberish so it's kinda going? With life throwing a very nasty curve ball recently and multiple (If milder thankfully) flare ups not been able to write much past couple months.

Poor Jim doesn't deserve that shit though to be fair neither did I. It took me a whole week to be completely back to normal and I didn't have the benefit of a troll salve to speed things along. Can't let Barbara get wind of anything happening he'd never be let out the house again...

[broadcsts]

—  🎬  just  announced,  BOBBI TAYLOR has  been  cast  as  emma gilbert  in  the  upcoming  h20: just add water reboot.  the  twenty-three  year  old  is  trending  as  people  are  debating  if  the feeling of warm sand under your feet, the sound of waves brushing against the shoreline, the smell of firewood cracking on a summers night; the stillness of the water on a mild day  that  they  are  known  for  is  enough  to  make  them  as  good  as  original.  a  quick  google  search  shows  that  their  fans  call  them  cheery,  but  internet  trolls  think  they’re  more  boisterous.  i  guess  their  newest  interview  for  variety  where  they  talk  about  the time they once accidentally flashed a police officer  will  let  people  to  know  them  better. 

hi guys!!! 1000000 years late, BUT i'm here ! at least with bobbi! emiri will be coming up next! for her bio, it's pretty basic. i like to leave a lot of wiggle room for plots (even past plots) and headcanons later obviously! so those will be added under! but i hope you enjoy her as i flesh her out!

april 23rd, 2000 -- BOBBI MAE TAYLOR was born to a-list actor Lewis Taylor and d-list actress Emily Nicholson-Taylor. Lewis was born and raised in Australia while Emily had called canada home up until she was 16 and ran away to LA to follow her dreams of being an actress. they had met on the set of some popular 90s rom-com (he was 19 and she was 18) where he was playing the lead and she was just an extra. for him? love at first sight. for her? well, the public had their suspicions. when she had gotten pregnant, just a couple years into the relationship, with bobbi -- emily was called many derogatory names by the press. nonetheless, lewis was 1000% sure this was the start of his family and he went to extreme lengths to protect it.

it only came crashing down when emily was caught in the back of a car (by papz) with a new costar back in 2001. then it all came out. the suspicions people had were validated. she WAS just using lewis for his fame and she was having an affair with another d-list actor the whole time. it was the biggest scandal in hollywood at the time -- even surpassing justin and britney at one point. but like all scandals, the dust settled eventually and lewis taylor (after proving he was in fact bobbi's father) filed for full custody and moved back to Australia with bobbi mae.

(tw: drinking, alcoholism; drugs) 2002 - 2015 -- bobbi doesn't remember much about her early childhood. she had gone to an all girls academy. from foundations (at 6) to year 10. it was obvious from a young age that she was incredibly smart. she loved to learn and she was very charismatic. bobbi fit in beautifully with just about any group of kids -- but she also made sure that others felt included too. at one point she wanted to be in the talent show and came up with a dance to 'genie in a bottle' with some friends. the next day one of her teachers asked them to re-do it because they didn't get to catch it the night before and her nose started bleeding out of nowhere. that, she thought, was the end of her entertainment career. she didn't really have a relationship with her mom. not by her choice, though -- or even her father's. emily was the type of parent to call when she needed something and then when it was time for a visit, she bailed. it was hard for bobbi to watch her mom fall off and drink. it was even harder for her to find out most of her mom's issues from the tabloids. she didn't understand much of it at the time but her father just kept saying 'she's sick'.

but, slowly bobbi started to wonder about her mom's family. a lot of them lived in canada but she had a sister (aunty wren, as bobbi would call her) in west virginia that bobbi and her father had always kept in contact with. wren was a special education teacher at a local elementary school and throughout every birthday WREN was the one who would send gifts and talk for hours on the phone with her. she became the closest thing bobbi had to a mother. wren herself never had kids. she wasn't able to. but she still treated bobbi like her own. she came to visit when she could, and even tried bringing bobbi's mom at one point. but, unfortunately, bobbi's mom never made it on the plane. wren said that it was because she got nervous, but the tabloids reported her being 'too drunk to fly'. in a weird way, bobbi could always count on the papz to tell her the truth.

2016 - now -- when bobbi turned 14, they had moved to america. with the only stipulation being that wren could move closer to where they needed to be for lewis' new show. with teaching in her background, wren was able to home-school bobbi until she graduated and even helped her apply to a few American colleges. that was the plan. but as bobbi started to join her father on set more and more throughout high school -- she realized her love for acting. she saw the appeal both of her birth parents had for it. and after being cast as an extra a couple of times in things her dad did -- her path took a sharp turn and she was willing to be all in.

once bobbi had graduated at 17, her father really let her delve into acting. having a famous dad and a sort of infamous mom kind of jumpstarted what is currently a pretty great career. CURRENTLY, bobbi has been announced to play emma gilbert in the remake of H20: just add water!

[crystal-grotto]

@khaosundivided

Continued from here: [x]

Stopping in his pocket of shadow ears swivel to the noise of weight before red eyes turn up towards the Daemon the electromancer sought. Yet, as Hjallmarr’s scent was heavy in the air, the pitch of his voice speaking at him did not startle Sturm as it had in their initial encounter as the Prince shifted to loom above him. If anything crossed the troll’s mind, it was a sense of mild comfort that his travel had bore fruit of some kind after a trek across mountainous terrain to the (rough) approximation of where he presumed the winged being would be.

‘A sight for sore eyes,’ He repeats, tail swishing across earth as he pivots on hoof to properly face company. A chuff passes though snout, almost imperceptibly, as pale irises take a moment to survey the Prince. The other looked almost as he had when they were last in each other’s presence - if a touch worn down from elements and the toil of motion. Where had Hjallmarr gone to look like a sheaf of bark chewed by water or wind?

‘Not really heard zhat one before... Is it a bad time to drop another book into your paws?’

[the-unlucky-trevor]

I've decided to completely forgo AI when it comes to writing, so I will share my revamped version of Twiġræċe. Is there anything I should do next?

The World of Twiġræċe.

Races

The Dimp is an odd creature. It is an elflike creature with a pair of horns akin to a pronghorn antelope in adulthood, and a thin tail. They are descendants of the human, who went extinct long ago. They are able to blow smoke from their nose if angered. The plural noun of the Dimp is Dimpen, and the juveniles and infants are called Dimplings. They have a rivalry with Wolf people that lasted an ungodly amount of time, to the point of trafficking them and the situation on the Oak Continent.

The Wolf person retains the appearance of an average Timber wolf in the Human Realm, but unlike their more mundane counterparts, they walk on two legs and are more intelligent than them. They are divided into two sub-races, including the Coyotes and the Foxes. Their race also includes hermaphroditic sexes that can reproduce. However, like in the Human Realm, hermaphroditism, or, less offensively, being intersex, is a spectrum, meaning it varies from person to person. They have a long-lasting rivalry with Dimpen to the point of abducting their children to either kill them or eventually turn them against them. The juveniles and infants are called pups.

Despite popular belief, trolls aren’t that bad. Sure, they are an obscure race, but several accounts say that one species akin to white-furred hippos, albeit squishier, is rather friendly, thus is no threat, while another group that looks like goats cause mild amounts of trouble for the heck of it. Dimpen have also been reported living among them

The Half-Wolf is a rather rare race resulting from a Dimp having a child with a Wolf person. They are highly frowned upon, and they are often killed in infancy, the most notorious case being in the Oak Continent.

The Demigods are the result of a god creating a mortal child. They have the average appearance of their assigned race (e.g, Wolf, Dimp or otherwise) but they do show signs of unusual powers, such as being able to control certain elements, like water, earth, fire or air. They say that the non-gods with magical abilities are descended from the demigods.

The Weredimp takes on the appearance of a Dimp, but during full moons, a loss of control, or sometimes voluntarily, will turn into a wolf. It is a relatively new race so not a lot is known about them

Continents

The world of Twiġræċe is made up of multiple different continents, including the Taiga, Oak, Ocean, Rainforest, Desert, Flowering, and Tundra continents, named for the majority of plant life on each continent. However, in a bizarre example, the Ocean continent is made up of multiple different subcontinents that broke up long ago. However, the Oak and Rainforest Continents are of a rather large concern.

For 1,000 years, Twiġræċe was in a sort-of global conflict between the Oak continent, ruled by a line of dictators known as the Raptos Dynasty. Their goal was to wipe out every single Wolf person and other related races in the realm. At some point they took over the Rainforest continent and made it into a police state, where even the smallest crimes could earn Wolf people the death sentence, and if pups were to commit one, they would be trafficked until age 16, or if the slave owner wants it, have them killed.

On the Oak continent, the Raptos Dynasty has an innumerable number of followers known as the Wolf Trappers to aid them with their attempted genocide. Now, here’s where the war comes in.

When the Wolf Trappers and Raptos wanted every Wolf gone, they MEANT every. Wolf. Gone, so they started invading other continents to wipe them off the face of the Realm. Some fought against it, like the Tundra, Taiga, and Flowering areas, but others just didn’t want to deal with the Trappers. They didn’t like them, but they didn’t contribute to the war, like the Desert and Ocean areas, and some provinces of the Taiga continent.

Magic

Magic isn’t like the stuff in Harry Potter or stuff. It’s more of an ATLA-style magic system, with some laws. Those descended from demigods are able to control one element at a time. The Avatar doesn’t exist. Yet. Though controlling elements is present in all cultures, you are not allowed to use them as a form of unjustified assault, such as bonebending, bloodbending, or otherwise. You are not allowed to impact the world negatively as a result of playing God with elements, and you are NOT allowed to use them as weapon of war.

[mutant-advice]

get culled.

& , , , by who exactly ? to be entirely honest with you i think whatever scraps of mild annoyance i could feel at the thought of murdering another troll be it mutant or the condesce herself are entirely gone down the drain.

[lizardsfromspace]

H8R. Not a 2000s show but a early 2010s show. A show where online commentators who made fun of celebrities were shamed by the celebrities in-person. But it wasn't, like, people who had said racist things, it was people who made jokes about reality TV stars and famous-for-being-famous celebrities. You know, people whose own shows treat them as a joke? Most infamously the show took people to task for insulting Joe "Girls Gone Wild" Francis, since god forbid anyone online dare to criticize someone sued multiple times for filming underage girls. He was charged for false imprisonment and assault earlier the same year he did the show about how unfair it was that internet trolls were mean to him. If it hadn't been cancelled they planned to expose the "haters" of Sarah Palin and Mel Gibson

Seriously, this review of it has stuck with me. They tried to frame this show about how the peasants should never criticize their betters as anti-bullying! All the celebs featured on it turned out to be exactly like they seemed on TV! All their criticism of the celebs was mild and on point (like the reality stars were mad that people are judging them based on the characters they choose to play on their shows? How else were they supposed to be judged, exactly, besides what they choose to show to the public?)

If you made this show now it'd be called UnCancelled and everyone on it would've been "cancelled" or something. Logan Paul and Pewdiepie would be on it. Gina Carano would be on it. It would be the worst show ever made

I do have to impress on anyone who wasn't around for it how batshit the reality boom of the 2000s could be. Especially on Fox.

Here are some 100% real 2000s reality shows:

Who's Your Daddy? A woman has to guess which of eight men is her biological father. One of them really is, and if she guesses right she wins $100,000. If one of the seven fake dads convinces her to guess them, he wins $100,000.

Black. White. A white family learns about racism by living a month in blackface, while a black family spends a month in whiteface. The black family was a real family, but the white family was just some actors hired to put on blackface to prove racism exists

Without Prejudice? Five strangers decide which of five strangers gets a cash prize based off clips and their answers to political questions. Cancelled when one of the choosers openly said he'd eliminate all black contestants

Welcome to the Neighborhood. Three conservative white families in a Austin subdivision decide which diverse family gets to move in. Unaired due to being literal housing discrimination

Seriously, Dude, I'm Gay. Two straight men try to pass themselves off as gay and whoever seems more gay gets $50,000. Unaired due to. Due to. Due to

Playing It Straight. A woman tries to find love among fourteen men, half of whom are straight and half of whom are gay, and she must eliminate two men she believes are gay each week. If she ended up picking a straight man in the end, they'd split a million dollars; if she picked a gay man, he'd win a million dollars

Boy Meets Boy. This was Playing It Straight but starring a gay man and he had to eliminate straight people

Who Wants to Marry a Multimillionaire? He wasn't a multimillionaire. He didn't even have a million dollars in liquid assets. He had a battery conviction Fox claims they didn't see. Because it was the 2000s, somehow this ended up with the woman he won being widely vilified and turned into a national punchline. How dare she complain about a massive corporation tricking her into marrying a lying abuser, good thing Matt Lauer's there to take her down a peg

The Swan. A "ugly" woman is given plastic surgery and wins a prize if she's the hottest at the end of the season. If she's not hot enough by the show's standards she's eliminated and called ugly on national TV

The Biggest Loser. Overweight people engage in competitive crash weight loss that often led to awful health complications. Studies showed basically everyone on the show regained any weight they lost once it was over and they didn't have abusive trainers demanding they take huge health risks to win a competitive weight loss competition. Like the others, this one was cancel-oh, it was a massive hit that ran for 18 seasons? Yikes!

Wife Swap and Trading Spouses. These were the same show and had a wife from one family go to another family that was different politically, racially, culturally, religiously etc. Most famous for the God Warrior

At the time people focused on the likes of Fear Factor but looking back it's wild how many of the worst shows toyed with politics. So many of these shows have a premise that's like "what if we exposed these conservatives to these people they hate?" or hyping themselves up as Important Experiments. Then they'd freak out when they got the kind of viral bigoted freakout they were trying to construct the whole time.

There were also a bunch of horrible reality shows, thankfully this time mostly unpopular, in the 2010s that based themselves around economic themes as a response to the market crash, but that's a story for another time