#we're also getting into the era where i may have said these things before on the original posts about these pokémon so

[front-facing-pokemon]

[simplydnp]

idk why this matters to me but in the last few months they've been acknowledging so many things I never ever thought they would. pinof and the touching. the phude multiple times. dapc slime (ok they had merch to sell for that one but still)

no but actually. phil literally said 'i thought we weren't acknowledging it' about the phude and now they just bring it up all the time.

pinof reacts... i still can't believe we're in a post pinof-reacts universe. how did that happen. i was changed permanently--like something shuffled in my dna when i got the notif for pinof reacts 1. this is not a physical reaction but a chemical one that cannot be undone. for something that was so... sacred. and integral. to their existence and history. pinof wasn't generally talked about unless it was pinof time. and even then it was 'it'll be up soon' or 'we just posted it' and then Never talked about outside of that. especially not the first one! we freak out about the We Know You Know in the newsletter but it's Always been like that with pinof 1. so to see them--new (& natural 🥺) hair for them both, in a house they bought and built together, in the first few months of giving the gaming channel a second chance--reflect on how it all began? absolutely devastating. and to lean into moments and discuss them in new ways. in territory previously not breached! the 'they're toUching'?!?!? the '11 hour fuck session'!?!? the '£9000 champagne'?!?!? like hey we're not supposed to talk about that, dan and phil might see!! shhh!! but they're the ones saying it!! absolutely wild.

in a way, it had to happen. especially with where we're at now (them literally selling merch of them holding hands). in order for them to move beyond that... mindset? i guess? that a lot of fans had, they had to defang it. i really see it as one of the biggest walls they've broken down in the way they communicate with us. the 'hey. it's okay. we've seen it. it's not a big deal. we will absolutely make fun of you for it though. but we're good.'

i'm just really curious whose idea it was. (lbr it was probably phil given dans not a react kinda guy. but i'd be lying if i said i didn't want to be in the room where it happened when they talked about actually doing it or not, and what it would mean) (big ad revenue thats for sure 🤣 get it kings)

i will never be able to get phil's 'they touched' out of my head and at this point i wouldn't want to. it's absolutely earned. and i guess it makes me a masochist to enjoy the psychic damage it inflicts on me, but such is life i suppose.

the crafts mention really surprised me! i had contemplated a few different scenarios in how they'd go about it, and i'll be honest i feel like they could've committed to the bit a little more but they're forgiven. like what about glitchy interstitials! cuts to the merch website. found footage inserted between sections! i recognize they don't want to 'scare' their usual audience wirh sudden cuts to intense/graphic content but my immersionnn. absolutely shattered by 'oh we have new merch now btw'. cmon boys you love to lie to us. say theres merch up but you dont know where it came from. just that we should buy it 👀 or idk, something clever. and i recognize i may sound like a spoilt brat bc i just got a 14 minute long masterpiece of an unexpected dapc revival, but my immersion. i mean i already bought the merch before they shilled it anyways so it didn't influence me regardless 🤣

ultimately we really are in a new era. even beyond just the revival. i think they're really finding their stride--not only in their content (evidenced by a semi-regular schedule) but also creatively, in doing what they want to do, how they want to do it, and truly not giving that much of a fuck anymore. and i'm really happy for them. phil talked a bit about this in his 'rating my icons' video, where he's kind of decided he doesn't care what people on twitter think, and how it's been good for him, and i think we're seeing that reflected in not only his content, but also the gaming channel. they play what they want. they say what they want. and it's just fun. dan going on the record to say he's really enjoying it makes me so happy to hear, because literally december 2022 he believed he'd disappear after WAD. and now, instead, he gets to play games and make stupid jokes and smile and laugh multiple times a week, and he's really happy about it. he gets to be silly and goofy and crude without having to Stress about it. i keep saying it but they're so settled now. and as someone who's followed them through big changes and turbulent times, getting to see them happy after everything... it brings a lot of hope. and i know theyre millionaires. but there's something to looking at someone you fell in love with 15 years ago the same then as you do now. but instead of it being something scary, something you have to hide, something that feels like it can consume you and everything you have--it gets to be something beautiful. and regular. and embraced. you've read this far you get to listen to me wax poetic about them.

we've been thoroughly boiled and maybe, just maybe, it's warming our hearts too.

[chubs-deuce]

Something that I hate that ppl do when it comes to hating on Chalastor is saying “Alastor is aroace and Charlie is in a relationship with Vaggie! You’re being disrespectful to both of them!” Even when you explain that’s it’s merely a harmless AU, they still get soooo upset.

Which first off, Alastor is actually ace, not aroace, Amir literally said that himself, and second, just cuz Charlie is with Vaggie doesn’t mean other people are going to ship them, cuz Charlie is bisexual! And thirdly, being ace or aro or both is a spectrum. It’s a wide range of things, not everyone is going to be repulsed. Yeah canon show Alastor maybe repulsed by sex and romance but that’s what AUs are for! They are there for others to expand and change things as they see fit.

Like I think Chaggie is a cute canon ship, but I find Charlie and Alastor and even RadioRose far more appealing and adorable, and especially when it comes to the fanart. Like the fanart! Every piece of Chalastor and RadioRose fanart I have seen is just *chef kiss* ✨perfection✨ seriously your art of Chalastor has got to be my favorite fanart I’ve seen of them, everything is just so beautiful 😭🥹 also I’m a huge sucker for Dad!Alastor

Before I dig into this response any further I'd like to thank you for the high praise of my art, but I'd also like to point out that I don't exactly appreciate the negative tone you're bringing into my inbox here and would like to kindly remind you that my asks are not a confession booth for fandom salt... ^^"

I understand that it can be really frustrating to deal with that kind of stuff, but I feel like a lot of this belongs more in dms than in an ask box that gets responded to publicly...

Fuck knows I have my own not-so-nice opinions about some things certain people in fandoms do, especially considering the nigh constant harrassment some ships are under by other sub-groups of the fanbase, but I vent that shit privately with friends where it won't kick any beehives into a tizzy along the way... It also imo just reflects on the rest of the ship community a bit better to not make big public stinks over some faceless douchebags on the internet with too much time to waste ^^".

(Yes this is an open invitation to just dm me with fandom salt like this if you need to unload some, I'll happily indulge you there! But I really would prefer keeping fandom salt out of my asks and in turn out of my public posts lmao)

Ultimately I'm a strong believer of ship and let ship and I am also of the opinion that if you need to put down another ship to enjoy your own you're not doing the shipping thing right.

Indulging in romantic and/or sexual fantasies about fictional characters is meant to be fun! We're all just sitting in our own little corner making our dolls kiss after all.

Unfortunately, I think a lot of people in this modern era of fandom spaces keep forgetting that. For many, shipping is a competition for bragging rights (i.e. canonicity), a form of activism or for yet again others it can be an excuse to mask bully urges and habits as exerting moral superiority (hence the constant, hypocrisy-filled barbs at people not "respecting" their canon sexualities)

Depending on which one you're dealing with, you may get genuine confusion at your shipping preferences since they approach shipping with a completely different mindset (i.e. shipping for canoncity and/or aesthetics over the narrative potential and/or writing quality) or people intentionally trying to bait you into a defensive response.

Sometimes you can argue someone out of their frustration about your lack of "respect" for canon by explaining that what you do doesn't affect canon in the slightest, nor do you even want or need it to - maybe even giving your reasons for shipping something! But that only works on people that are already receptive to your arguments, so you have to know who and what you're up against and if they're even worth wasting that sort of time and energy on.

I can assure you that 90% of the time the easiest option is to just block antis without giving them the grace of a response. It's usually the quickest way to get out of those types of situations lol (ignore them if they start claiming that they "won" and consider you weak or cowardly for blocking them - they just want to guilt you into unblocking so they have more free reign to keep harrassing you)

[late-draft]

I saw some post that said something along the lines of, that Zuko isn't actually a responsible person and that Katara isn't parentified, but instead that it was simply the case of everyone else being in a worse mental state/situation, so Zuko and Katara had the opportunity to do things that are read as being responsible. I'd have to disagree with this analysis:

If you think about it, it really isn't a case of possessing an "intrinsic" trait versus just simply practicing a trait in situations.

It's true that we think of attributes as something permanent that marks a character, we're used to this line of thinking when we fill out character sheets for OCs. But these things are fluid and can change with emotional states of characters. They're not like skills which one either has or has not. So, while it's true that Zuko did a lot of reckless things especially when he was in his villain era such as jumping after Aang, never having a plan for after he captures the Avatar, these are things that impact mostly himself. In many other cases where other people depend on him, he's shown to engage in thinking on how to solve the problems for all of them. While he did endanger his crew at the start of the Storm, he moved back onto the path of rather being safe than sorry. He turns to stealing and provides for himself and mostly for his uncle Iroh during exile. (While this isn't a moral action, it's one that takes care of them.) He writes a letter to Mai to inform her, so he doesn't simply vanish one day. He presses on with training before Sozin's comet, trying to keep everyone focused on what they have to do. So yeah, I'd say he's a responsible person. I don't remember him doing anything reckless after he joins the gaang.

The show itself calls Katara parentified, in dialogue itself, and it isn't framed as a good thing. It's mostly damaging for her. She did develop traits from this that aid her however, such as being level-headed, persistent and courageous! In the Desert, she could have turned to despair too since Aang just flew off or she could have drank the cactus juice too. Instead, we're shown her thought process where she tackles the problem and takes care of everyone despite the immense fear she felt.

Sokka is also a defender, he mostly gets concerned or suspicious when he can sense the group might be in physical danger. He oscillates in when he's being responsible and when not. In S1 he was urging everyone to "stay on track to the North Pole! Avoid delays!" He's again mostly scared of them getting targeted by the Fire Nation. Other times he's drinking suspicious cactus juice and not doing any chores. I'm not fully certain how I'd characterize him volunteering for the NWT force during Siege of the North that was specifically stated its warriors would likely get killed. It's a courageous move, but also NWT is not his home, and he still has to take care of his avatar group. The show's directing made it obvious he volunteered, rather recklessly, because he'd rather die since he couldn't be with Yue.

[wexhappyxfew]

Hi! I love your Silver Bullets girls, and Carrie x Douglass has a special place in my heart (even more since your last writing with them). So, for them I'd like to ask 35. (kissing their bruises and scars) from the Touch prompt list or 5. (the last thing they're thinking about before falling asleep is always the other) from the Subtle love list. 💗

HI FRIEND!!!! thank you so much for sending this and i am so so glad carrie and dougie have meant a lot, alongside the Silver Bullets girls (it seriously means SO MUCH and i always say it but its true!!!) THANK YOU FOR THE OPTIONS TOO!!!! i couldn't help myself and went with the second prompt (5) and decided to focus on some of their earlier meetings with one another and how they've developed into the people today. let's just say, i had a lot of fun! thank you SO MUCH!!!!! :D this was so much fun! <3 (and sorry for the wait for this....the semester was its usual chaos haha!)

greenland

(a/n): safe to say, for my carrie x dougie enjoyers, this was FUN to write. we get a bit into life before the annie bradshaw era of silver bullets! WITH captain birdie faulkner. BUT, because i am a sucker for someone who haunts the narrative and is simply talked about, we don't actually meet birdie here, just hear about her as a leader and all (a running theme!). we also get a bit into the storyline of what dougie means when he said he wanted to ask carrie to 'dance in greenland in THIS PIECE. and also carrie's dislike for greenland lmfao. please enjoy!!! <3

Greenland was anything but green, it seemed.

Maybe that's why the Vikings called it that - to freak the living fuck out of any sort of enemy that was bound to come this way and make them mistake what was actually a stupid ice block for well - 'green land'.

The landing had been less that superb and Captain Faulkner had dismissed them all to the bar to the left of the tarmac for the rest of the evening off.

Birdie Faulkner was everything, including a realist, and she seemed to understand that the rather harrowing conditions of their landing was something that required at least a drink or two before bedding down for the night.

With a half-finished beer, Carrie was sure that she could've fallen asleep in that very chair for the time being, but she had to present herself a best she could. With the newest B-17 group collected, Silver Bullets was formulated and crafted by that oh-so-brilliant mind of Birdie Faulkner, and they all had her to thank. And Carrie had to look a bit more put-together than usual - prove she's not just a wash-out bombardier with lackluster experience. That she deserved the spot in Silver Bullets more than anyone else.

"So?" a voice came from her right, settling into the other plush, leather seat at her side, the smiling face of Bessie Carlisle appearing as she popped open her own beer bottle, "Greenland, huh?" Carrie smirked and rolled her shoulders and glanced around.

"It's cozy, really," Carrie offered, "I'm considering taking a swim in the river, suntanning-"

"Okay, smart ass," Bessie said with a chuckle, her boot nudging her own foot, "can't say I'm complaining. Finally out of those training cycles, working towards the war. Maybe, we'll actually put ourselves to use instead of waiting just to go on a practice run." Carrie watched Bessie and then smiled widely.

"Love it so much that I may tell my future husband that 'Hey, we're moving to Greenland!', pack up the truck, babe, forget Brooklyn, home is where the grass is a solid as a fucking rock," Carrie said, sipping her beer, "not to mention the weather. I love to freeze."

"Someone's happy." a new voice chimed in, as Francis settled into a chair opposite them, sucking down a portion of her beer and grinning, "I've never seen you so enthusiastic about something." Carrie deadpanned.

"I'm really jumping for joy over here, Monty." Carrie told Francis, raising her glass of beer up in mock ceremony, "You know me so well." Francis and Bessie burst out into laughter as Carrie leaned back in her chair with a sigh and looked towards the ceiling.

"When the hell are we going to England?" Carrie asked, counting the flecks of rotting wood in the wooden ceiling, her eyes tracing the pieces that stuck out of the ceiling panels before losing her spot and recounting, "If I could just get another beer started, I'd be ready by tonight to head out. No pit-stops for me, I'm just fine with a beer stop and then jetting off to England and calling it a day."

"I wish I had the same energy towards that, Bergie, I really do," Bessie said, "afraid to say I'd ask for a few hours of sleep thought over that."

"Sleeps overrated half the time!" Carrie admonished still staring up at the ceiling, "How you gonna get a thing done when sleep's-"

"Exactly what you need." Carrie blinked a few times and into focus above her head came James Douglass - fellow bombardier, with whom Bessie had introduced on one of Carrie's first days after her transfer on base.

Carrie remembered first time seeing him coming towards them, with that carpet on his face he called a mustache, a sharp smirk, a rather loud, somewhat obnoxious voice, a quick hand-shaking, before he was wrapping his arm around her shoulder and pointing out to various areas along the base like they'd been friends for years - something that had caught her completely off guard. And ever since then, with their few chance meetings, they'd been nothing but a trifle of teasing jabs and somewhat good-natured fun.

Key word: somewhat.

Because she could never actually read James Douglass unlike Benny DeMarco or Hambone Hamilton who were just about as sweet to her as her grandma's hotcakes. He'd see her and beeline, make a few jokes, flirt shamelessly, and then go dance with the next girl who'd take his hand. He was quite the character and Carrie usually didn't engage in much conversation past when he'd come to seek her out.

Except now, he was hung above her like a hyperactive golden retriever, like the dog, Kering, that had lived down the street from the Achterberg's in Brooklyn all her life. Running out of the Wilkes house anytime the door opened, barking and sniffing and tearing around the neighborhood like a lunatic. Yeah, Kering the golden retriever who looked like he was a lunatic reminded her exactly of James Douglass.

Nice to know home was never far.

"What are you trying to say, huh?" Carrie asked, still slouching in the chair and staring up at him hovering over her. Douglass grinned at her, showing off his pearly whites and that charming look on his face and he let out a chuckle.

"You know, a little sleep never hurt a soul. Only reason we're even alive," Douglass said, reaching forward to rub her shoulder, "makes the brain happy or some shit. Makes people less….cranky."

"You calling me cranky, now?"

"Cranky. Now that's just one of many words-"

"Oh, you little-"

"Alright!" Bessie said standing and shoving Douglass pack from where he currently was occupying Carrie's headspace, "Nice to know some things never change." Carrie glanced at her as she sat up and Bessie raised a brow with a smirk.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Douglass said from behind Carrie, before he moved around her chair and took the other open seat in the grouping of four, and kicking back to relax. Carrie watched Bessie before looking at Francis, who was rather interested in her cup of beer, before glancing at Douglass, who was already looking at her.

"What?" she murmured, before he made a face and she rolled her eyes.

"How was the flight over, Douglass? Invigorating?" Bessie asked Douglass, with a smile - leave it to Bessie to be sweet as cream on any given occasion.

"You woulda thought Greenland would be, well, fucking green-"

"That's what I said!" Carrie butted in, getting looks from the other three, before settling on Douglass who was watching her, with a mixture of interest and annoyance, but she couldn't seem to decipher the two and sank back in her chair, "Greenland's cold as fuck, not some East Coast paradise I'll give ya that." She heard Douglass chuckle at that as Carrie took in more sips of beer.

"With the way we were flying in, I wasn't even sure we were gonna make it at first, I'll tell you that," Douglass said, "you sit in that nose and you swear to God that you'll smash right into the tarmac. Good ole Ev Blakely don't let that sorta stuff happen though."

"Yeah, a real crap shoot." Carrie muttered, "Thought Birdie was gonna bring us in sideways." Douglass raised a brow as he sipped his beer.

"Guess you can say they lied about the fucking weather, too," Douglass offered, "really nice place here. Could barely move my fingers and toes when I actually stood up fully." Bessie let out a chuckle and started sipping her beer again as Carrie narrowed her eyes at her.

"Hey, they're putting on some music to dance, y'all wanna come?" Judy Rybinski's joyfully said as she appeared behind Francis, "C'mon Bessie, I know that look anywhere, you wanna!"

"You know me too well, Jude," Bessie said, getting to her feet and finishing off her beer.

"I'm coming with! No shot I'm missing a chance at good music and good company." Francis said getting to her feet, "The company part may be a stretch-"

"Oh c'mon!" Judy said, taking Francis' hand before looking at Carrie and Douglass unmoved in their chairs, "You two coming?"

"I'm going to continue working on these beers, Jude, but I appreciate it," Carrie said, "Greenland's officially fucked me up." Judy let out a chuckle.

"You enjoy that then, Bergie," Judy said before looking at Douglass, "Dougie?" Carrie glanced sideways at Douglass who sat quietly, before glancing over at Carrie and then Judy again.

"Maybe next time," he said with a nod, "I promise you a dance, got it?"

"Sounds good! Don't have too much fun!" Judy called before she disappeared and some Artie Shaw began playing over the speakers.

"Good to know we have one thing in common, Bergie." Carrie slowly looked over at Douglass, that annoying nickname rolling off his lips like it had before, "We both hate Greenland." And he grinned at her and couldn't help but smirk back.

"First off, don't call me that. Second, you might be right about that," Carrie said, sipping her beer again, "you know that it's called Greenland because of the Vikings?" Douglass let out a chuckle and shook his head.

"Nah, you're fucking with me," he said, "the Vikings? The guys with the horns on their heads?"

"I'm not kidding," Carrie said sitting up and fully meeting his gaze for the first time since he had hung overtop her, "I swear to you, they did it. Tricking their enemies. For the sake of how much can they fuck a person in the head." Douglass watched her for a moment, before letting out a laugh and sipping his beer again, before smirking.

"Maybe they were just being smart," Douglass countered, "before they knew that it was just one sheet of ice for miles on end. Then they realized what a shitty name Greenland was." Carrie stared at him for a moment, before smiling slightly, unable to hold back her grin.

"You really know how to get under my skin, don't ya?"

"Guess you could say I know what makes you tick."

"Oh so now you suddenly know everything about me, huh?" Carrie said, leaning over to give his shoulder a playful shove, "Well, go on, what's my favorite color?" She watched him and noticed him glance at her lips - surprisingly - before moving back to her eyes.

"I don't know….blue probably." Carrie watched him and stilled for a moment.

"Uh….yeah, actually." she said quickly, and forced down the way her cheeks flamed (and for what she didn't know), "Alright, well, where do I come from?"

"Brooklyn." Douglass said, laughing at the look on her face, "Look, sweetheart, that New York accent ain't just a voice with Southern twang. I know if I was walking down the streets, and I heard your voice, it'd be you."

"God, what the hell." murmured Carrie as Douglass chuckled, "You won't get this - school subject." Douglass looked at her and then smirked before leaning forward.

"Something with math, right?" he asked her confidently, "You don't just get interested in this sorta shit without having some interest there." Carrie watched him and tilted her head.

"Are you mind-fucking me or something?" she asked him, "How the hell-"

"Just good at reading people I guess." Douglass said with a smirk, "Contrary to popular belief, Bergie, I usually know what I'm talking about. There's a reason I'm a bombardier and not just some journalist or something." She watched him and licked her lips.

"Is that why you joined?" she asked him, "The Air Force? Flying in B-17s?" Douglass glanced at her and nodded.

"Had to join the fight somehow, couldn't just sit back and let the fucking Nazis think they could walk all over us," Douglass said, finishing his beer, "that sorta stuff just don't fly around here. Well, except us. We fly." The two burst out into laughter, before they both died down and looked to one another. For a moment, they were quiet regarding one another with somewhat hesitant gazes as Carrie finished off her beer.

"Well, I'm gonna head-"

"Did you wanna-"

They both watched each other, before breaking out into laughter and righting themselves.

"You go." Douglass said.

"I was gonna head out. Get some rest. Pretty tired." she said quickly, her heart racing as she smiled at him with a nod, "You?" Douglass stared at her and for the first time, she saw the sudden shyness in his gaze as he glanced away from her and then back.

"Just…was gonna get another drink, but you head out, get some rest," he said, before smirking at her, "you need it."

"Oh, you asshole." grumbled Carrie knocking his shoulder before standing to her feet, Douglass following suit. The stood there for a moment, looking at one another - usually, if this were a Silver Bullets girl, she'd give them a hug, but with Douglass, she felt frozen in place. She stuck out her hand instead, to shake, and he shook her hand, and she felt more awkward than ever before, as she shook back. His handshake was firm though, and confident and suddenly made her feel like some 16-year-old girl in high school and balked.

"Well, I'll see you around." she said, stumbling back a bit, "Night!" And she disappeared quickly - like she always did. She found the barracks, promptly settled into bed, and then stared at the ceiling, counting the dried pieces of wood hanging from the panels again.

And she replayed the look in James Douglass' eyes - over and over.

And for the first time in years, all she could think about was James Douglass' eyes that had watched her like that, as she tried to fall asleep.

To say the least, it was the best sleep in months.

[lostdrarryfics]

lostdrarryfics monthly roundup! May 2024

Below you will find the requests we could not locate in the month of May. Please let us know if you recognize any!

You can also browse our lengthy lost fic masterlist, where we have compiled every request we have been unable to find over the past few years. We're always hoping someone will recognize a fic so we can let the asker know what it was!

1. D ends up with H before the battle at hogwarts. I remember Narcissa being with them when they basically handed draco over. I think they stay at grimmauld place in the beginning but they get separated (I might be confusing it for another fic). The most important detail is that D and H end up in a cottage owned by narcissa and followed by Voldy’s henchmen but the deatheaters can’t see the cottage so D and H are safe. I might have gotten the timing wrong and it might have been set right after the battle of hogwarts (I’m still not sure on this sorry) There’s also no graphic sex from what i remember. Fic is not Warding Bonds by AdareThompson

2. Harry is a celebrity chef, and Draco tweets at him for dinner, and Harry said he'd save him a table. Draco shows up and they cook together as a sort of date. The one key thing I remember is that Harry had a past relationship with Justin Finch-Fletchley but Justin dumped him.

3. it was about Draco being an unspeakable and what comes to my mind is this specific scene about Draco with one of his teammates joking about his nickname (all of them has a star's name as code name), talking about the pole star, I think Draco was "Polaris" and she said he was "Vega", like the ancient polar star, I can't remember much more. Draco was happy that he isn't recognized as a death eater between his co-workers and they really appreciated him. Harry was an auror? And they had to work together? I'm not really sure

4. Harry is Draco’s secretary and Draco makes him wear a skirt to work and it’s one chapter and smutty. Top Draco.

5. post-war drrary fic where Harry and Draco lived in the Malfoy Manor and they were in an established relationship. Then Draco's behaviour started to change, he became mean, and Harry gave him an ultimatum, promising he won't put a foot in the Manor again if he leaves. Then Harry leaves and I think Draco was about to get married. But then Narcissa comes to Harry and explains that Lucius has put a curse on Draco to break their relationship. I specifically remember that she told Harry that Draco was musing how to apologise to him. Harry then came back to the Manor. I think it was on ao3 but I'm not sure

6. I am looking for a Hogwarts era fic. It's after the war. Harry is fed up with being treated like a hero so he enters into a friends with benefits arrangement with Draco. They are sneaking away to hook up and have a lot of hate sex and bond over their taste in music. I specifically remember them having sex to Kashmir by Led Zeppelin and Deftones. Towards the end they start to realize they have feelings for each other.

7. Hogwarts Eighth year, lupin(alive) is the dada teacher again, drarry are sort of in a relationship or at least there's something going on. The one scene I remember distinctly is they're chosen for a demonstration duel during dada and they take the bow and stance but then draco concedes in front of the whole class, which is kind of a big deal in magical duels-as hermione tells harry, and then lupin wants to talk to draco after class(?)

8. drarry multi-chapter fic i read on ao3 a bit ago. it was set around christmas/holidays, established relationship, harry has mental health problems and is distant so draco thinks he's cheating on him but he reveals that hes been going to a mind healer like secretly. also i think teddy is in it and they go ice skating with him? the fic is about like draco helping harry get his life back together and fixing their relationship.

9. it takes place in hogwarts and there’s a secret lgbtq club in the school. I think there were some side pairings too besides drarry.

10. I read this ages ago, dont remember what site but it was complete and mature content. title was like Griffendor <something>, Slythering <something> (i think) after school, harry is a pro quidditch player and draco is a magazine editor or something? One of them decides to write a book (draco?) and goes to the other for help with source material(?). We find out that they are divorced and have been court ordered to stay away from each other because of destructive fights. There was also some flashbacks where they like fed each other strawberries and one of them (harry?) told the other that the cost of the strawberry was marriage? And there was something about a pair of lockets they had from when they were married that they still wear but are hiding from each other?

11. i think it was a war au, draco was at grimmauld because reasons and he was helping the order with the potions, at one point he helps snape or remus because they were hurt? And he and harry had this thing or something, but he caught harry kissing one of the twins and he thought that harry wasn't interested, but he was just like practicing the kisses or something?

12. Looking for a fic I read some years ago in german, but I am pretty sure it was translated from english. It is about Draco helping Harry and his friends escape from Malfoy Manor in the seventh book and being captured by the Death Eaters. He gets thrown into a cell without any sensory stimulation, but gets rescued after the war. The fic deals with the consequences of that, I am not quite sure if he is at St. Mungos for some time, but he definitely gets close to Harry in his healing process. Sorry if this is too vague or if it turns out that the fic was originally in german.

[themcomicsofficial]

My own Amazing Digital Circus idea.

Since we're aware of the company, C&A the company responsible for creating the video game.

However, I had this idea on my head since it's pilot came out--so I'm going to bring here to you!!!

The origins of C&A:

Our story begins with its founders, Cain Matthews and Abel Middleton the creators of the--what else? The Amazing Digital Circus so here there are origin stories.

Cain Matthews was born on October 1952 in a small town of Massachusetts somewhere near Salem. Growing up, Cain loved going to circuses and dreams one day being or creating one. However, he loved to draw funny characters, when he gets scared he often had his stuffed bunny by his side. What was the bunny's name you may ask?

JAX...

During his childhood he loved to draw himself in a circus with characters which would later become the characters we know in love.

In the late sixties and early seventies he studied Child Psychology during his times at college. However, Cain met a roommate named Abel Middleton who later become his partner and friend later in life.

As the mid seventies to early eighties came around, the two had ideas on what makes a kid happy--Cain want back to his childhood and had this idea, puppets!

Around 1983 they formed C&A it was a small non-profit organization at the start, it was only for children's entertainment. This was before the era of console games, Cain and Abel would perform puppet shows for children. The characters appeared first was Jax, Caine, and Bubble.

As the decade shifted to the nineties, Cain and Abel saw the rise of hand held devices and video game consoles without going to the arcade. Also, in that decade--CGI was blowing up in popularity so the two made a decision WHY so them their work if THEY show their world to them???

In 1994, they shifted their non-profit organization to a video game company where they begin working on their magnum opus.

1996, the two launched The Amazing Digital Circus which became a national phenomenon around the world. Its popularity was so big it had toys, action figures, plushies, pasta, storybooks, coloring books, and audio books! Also, they pitched a children's animated pilot around 1998-99 but it got rejected...

However, not all things have to successful...

As the new millennium rolled around something weird happened...Cain installed a new chip on the virtual headset to make it more into the Y2K craze of that time. It almost seemed like it worked but something went wrong, terribly wrong...

2001-02

There were some new reports of people including children experiencing hallucinations, nightmares of the circus and the characters from it after taking off the headset which sparked a massive controversy toward the two.

Cain said to Abel and to the employees to "shrug it off" however Abel argued that this controversy needed to be taken seriously but that's just the final crack that broke the camel's back. Cain grew more power hungry and aggressive and started carelessly on focusing on money, quantity, he stated he doesn't care about kids like as he was no longer the kind, generous man Abel knew.

2002-03: The final years

C&A started to experience toxic work placement from Caine's attitude, projects were rushed, updates had glitches which made the controversy worse.

However, the FTC sued C&A for intoxicating children and adults with "hallucinogenic substances" in their devices for $2,000,000. Finally, in 2003 the comapny closed down for good...During that year, Digital Circus merchandise were recalled and never to be shown again...

The next year, Caine vanished without a trace without any sightings during that time there were numerous disappearances following the year C&A shut down.

For Abel, he suffered through drug overdose, alcohol addiction as he became a mess, however he started to go through a sober recovery up to now.

Yet, he can still see the characters...

The Amazing Digital Circus is owned by Gooseworx, and GLITCH Productions.

[lisa-russell]

"No matter where you go, it follows you everywhere. It's etched itself into your very soul without you realising. From the footfalls of pedestrians on the road, to the scratching of a pencil against paper. Music finds a way to exist in our everyday life, whether we're conscious of it or not."

Freaking love this quote.

*Me, thinks of splatoons music and its lore. Thinks of the Calamari Inkantation, and how it seems to effect every species in someways and others even more.*

I'm sticking to my Headcannon that the Calamari Inkantation is something that was carried on through tthe ages, an Oral history like thing carried on through song. And I think of it as a sorta of fragmented physical manifestation of the Liquid Crystals from Alterna.

How do I put this... (Warning Longish note.)

"Music is clamming everything in the Splatverse.

Precursors (Humans) before their end had created billions of songs, hundreds of genres and sub-generes. What survived the 12,000 years showed us only a glimpse into that.

We Inkfish have been singing since the dawn of the Molluscs Era. Its been baked, fused and forever more built into our DNA and Souls.

Can you recall any moment of your life where it does not play apart in your memory? Where your emotions or the current moment was not effected by a song or tune?

Our Idols are practically acting like some kind of leader for most of the younger crowd of Inkfish. Influenceing many to pick up an instrument, dance or hum a tune. Their songs in particular seem to effect us the most, the famous of them all is the Calamari Inkantation.

Splatbands may come and go but there songs, give us turfwar players a certain pep to our step in battle. The said could be the same for the strange Salmonids.

It could be something passed down from the Precursors, a psychic phenomena so powerful its somehow weaved its way into our lives. Granting us power in times of need, giving insight and hope for better things. I'll just say not enough has been put into this study... I call this the Resonance Hype Factor or R.H.F for short."- Melodi Merr, Author of 'R.H.F a musical mystery.'

(Their another oc of mine.)

I slowly put this HC of mine together from several things...

Google Answers:

What is Resonance?

Objects, mechanical systems and charged particles tend to vibrate at a specific frequency. We call this frequency the resonant frequency or the natural frequency. When a light or a sound wave strikes an object that is already vibrating at some particular frequency, and if that frequency happens to match the resonant frequency of the object it’s hitting; then you’ll get what’s called resonance. Resonance occurs when the matching vibrations of another object increase the amplitude of an object’s oscillations.

What is resonance in Physics?

Resonance in physics is a phenomenon in which an external force or a vibrating system forces another system around it to vibrate with greater amplitude at a specified frequency of operation.

What causes resonance to occur?

Resonance occurs when the matching vibrations of another object increase the amplitude of an object’s oscillations

What is the resonant frequency?

The resonant frequency is the natural frequency where a medium vibrates at the highest amplitude.

Acoustic Resonance

Acoustic resonance is a phenomenon in which an acoustic system amplifies sound waves whose frequency matches one of its own natural frequencies of vibration.

Thought thw Word Hype was a perfect example. It can be used in modern music as a cry like “let's go!” or “big up!” Nightclubs often have hype men like MCs who will tell things to liven up a party. Hype comes from hyper meaning exagerated or increased. It made me think of the epic moments are our agents or player characters have during just the right moment. The blood pumping in our veins, the music beating to our focus...

And than I saw also saw some articles on crystals, and the fact some of em can resonant with sound... (Alterna Liquid Crystals anyone?)

As I am saying this with 100% belief, Music plays and effects the Inkfish of Splatoon greatly.

It awoke Octavio's Army from his propaganda and made them feel a sudden urge to see the sun and sky (sound familiar?) to be free or if there was a better way of life.

It gives our agents a Second Wind, or a sudden burst of emotional energy activating a special or great feat of strength of will and body. Its the same i feel in the everyday Turfwar sport. It gave Octavio's Army a better focus to march too.

Even the music the Tribes of Salmonids make are something they march too, continueing on their strange way of life. And what happens when a Salmonid is exposed to the Calamari Inkantation?

*stares intensely at a certian smallfry*

(Another HC) Well, we've seen how that activates the fused crystals in any modern marine dna. We get a HugeFry. As prophesied so long ago...

So, yah I'd say we Infish are born and bred with it, beating along with our daily life. Flowing in our blood, and resonating in our Souls.

(Good examples of this is Agents 8s boss battles or really any of the agent's boss battles)

[pomplalamoose]

If you are ever down I would love your take on a Luke with a ND partner, maybe one who isn't expressive or picks up on social cues. says what ever comes to mind. Takes things a little too literally, is blunt in conversations. Like someone who struggles with their tone so people think they're bored or mean when they really have constantly racing thoughts and new ideas and are always open to new relationships.

I'm pretty sure it has never taken me this long to answer an ask before, but I wanted to make sure I'd put the same time and effort into yours as I did with every other one so far. Sadly I never seemed to get the free time to do so until now, so I REALLY want to thank you for your patience, anon, and hope you're happy with the result🩵

Please note though that for requests like these I'm only able to draw from my own experiences which possibly differ from those of others.

Accordingly nothing I said about "you" is meant to impose any kind of insinuations about behavioral patterns on those reading this, nor is it my intention to criticize or sound harsh in any way.

It goes without saying that Luke, as a friend as well as a partner, couldn't be any more wonderful to be around and I believe that especially for someone on the neurodivergent spectrum it's basically a dream come true to date him.

(Apart from that he's definitely that one friend who listens to you when you think nobody else does and waits for you when you need to stop to tie your shoe laces.)

He's empathetic and sensitive to the emotions of those surrounding him and thus would never make you feel like you don't belong, are weird for acting a certain way, or like you'd be better off pretending to be something you're not to "fit in".

And while Luke's connection to the Force certainly adds a lot to the fact that he has no trouble reading you, he would manage to just as well without it.

Still there's no denying how useful his abilities could prove themselves to be in a relationship, especially should his partner struggle with expressing themselves.

I won't go into much more detail though, because many of the things I already talked about in my other posts regarding his understanding and supportive character can be applied here as well.

(e.g. Master Luke Skywalker headcanons, Luke with a partner on their period, Luke x a reader with mental health issues, breaking down in front of Luke)

However I think it'd be really interesting to take a look at his initial reaction to getting to know a neurodivergent person with the behavioral features you described since I believe they differ depending on which Luke era we're talking about.

• ANH Luke wouldn't even bat an eye

• on Tatooine everyone has to put up a rough exterior in order to protect oneself

• it's not a place of friendly conversations and common niceties; people know they're better off minding their business and staying on their own

• you're very blunt and speak your mind?

• you seem unfazed, even bored during most encounters?

• good for you, it's not easy to navigate this corner of the galaxy and much safer to hold others at a distance

• growing up Luke came across a wild array of all kinds of beings too, one more interesting (and really scary) than the other

• he's not put off, instead even used to supposed unfriendliness

• also he doesn't know anything about where you're from and your people, maybe that's just the way they are and how you were raised?

• he probably thinks you're very cool too

• because surely you have seen a lot? Been on great adventures across the galaxy?

• he really wants to do the same

• if you come across as mean without meaning to it's not a big deal, it only makes him want to spend even more time with you

• ("if mean, then why friend-shaped??")

• most importantly ANH Luke judges a person more by their actions than their words, so there is absolutely no need to worry about how he may perceive you

• it's safe to say you're not getting rid of him as it's nearly impossible to shake him off once he decides he wants to be someone's friend

• he's more than delighted once you get to know each other better and it turns out his intuition was right!

• ESB Luke, on the other hand, may be a bit slower to come around

• not necessarily because he dislikes you but because he doesn't have the time nor the patience to put effort into really getting to know you

• people talk and so he probably heard a thing or two that has him eyeing you curiously

• most likely he won't pay you much mind as he's gone most of the time anyways

• generally speaking though, I think you'd get along pretty well, Luke is a friendly and open minded person after all and would surely grow fond of your quirks before even knowing about their source

• still there's a possibility of the two of you butting heads should it come to an actual meeting

• nothing really severe, of course, but still I can see Luke growing easily frustrated at, for example, your lack of expression, or at your questions when you don't quite get something and want to make sure you understood everything correctly

• and while he's not going to show it or tell you outright that he thinks you're a bit annoying, he's not that good at surpressing dramatic sighs or a roll of his eyes

• HOWEVER if you catch him off guard with blunt words said in a tone that could come across as mean it could definitely get a rise out of him

• after all we get to see that he has developed a certain attitude; he's snippy, quick to talk and slightly judgemental

• (mainly towards Han and Yoda but I can see him acting this way quite often because of all that he's being put through)

• I'm sure that under different circumstances Luke wouldn't react as strongly but with how things are during ESB he might hurt your feelings without meaning to

• once the dust settles and he has a quiet moment to himself he'll feel awful though and most likely seek you out to make amends

• naturally RotJ Luke is a different story altogether

• (the character development this man went trough is absolutely crazy, and I'm amazed every time I do comparisons like these)

• before even taking to you for the first time he'd regard you with a warmth and patience you seldom get to experience

• he quietly smiles to himself when he overhears you having a conversation in that special way of yours or when he senses something sparking an idea

• he appreciates your bluntness

• maybe at first you'd think he's laughing at you but don't worry, he just thinks you're cute

• he feels you in the Force, senses your excitement, your curiosity

• it draws him in

• he is able to see you as a whole, not just what you present on the outside, and so isn't deterred by what others would view as a potential attack or criticism

• (take notes ESB Luke)

• once you've grown closer he's always there to point out social clues you might have missed and/or walks you through certain situations to explain how your behavior might have looked to others when it's something you're worried about

• often he knows what you're going to say before you do and, if that's what you want, gives you a sign you agreed upon, letting you know if maybe it'd bet better for you to be silent instead

• (he absolutely explains dumb sexual jokes to you when you don't get them and I don't care how self indulgent this is, I could really use someone to do that for me, thank you very much)

[not-goldy]

I hope Jimin was in his savage era on Jk's day. Hope he watched some of these episodes back and was like you know what, you kinda were being an unnecessary pain in my Jibooty. Hope he just gave him a bro pat and was like Happy bday bro and ignored him the rest of the day. Jk sitting there waiting for his predictable annual Jimin bday post he's gotten use to and it doesn't come. Remember how Jk said his bday sucked last year to a reporter & said he didn't get traditional soup And we find out Jimin said he called JK, he probably didn't see him in person & that is why it sucked. Poor Jk, no soup, no Jimin and straight up said it sucked into the microphone and didn't hold back. If I were Jimin, I would be like you didn't get traditional soup huh, but yo mamma made it for my birthday, at least you got to enjoy it on my birthday and walk off like a boss. I'm kidding, joking aside, they were together on JK's bday this time by choice and nothing can take that away and we know Jimin probably made JK's day as special as he could be considering where they are. post or not. Its Jimin & we're talking about JK. He can't help it.

Unnecessary pain in his jibooty???????

I'm shooketh🤣

Bro pat is diabolic 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

Awww not ignore him like wtf🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

Okay not too much now💔🥴

Oh thank God you jx kidding😭😓🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

I agree with your conclusions

I mean where they going they literally in forced proximity with eachother and I love how Jimin said well the best of friends could fight in such a confined space but not them

Jungkook loves and I don't have a problem with the way he loves. Like let's not get it twisted. He probably loves hard between the two. But loving someone and relating with someone are two different things.

And I feel that's were many people lose the plot when it comes to those two.

Jimin is extremely brilliant and relating to people. He has all the right emotional skills to relate with people. I'm just gonna say Jungkook is a bit lacking in that department so he can come off as aloof to some people.

But that doesn't in no way shape or form negate the love they each have for the other. Like I have no doubt on my mind Jimin and Jungkook love eachother.

And I know Jimin is confident in Jungkook's love towards them and more importantly he's confident in his own emotional skills to help them relate well in their relationship.

And listen, my guy, Jimin will choose his dynamic with Jungkook and perhaps has more confidence in the potential of a successful relationship with Jungkook than he has in Taehyung for example.

He's willing to forgive and Jungkook is willing to be told what he needs to do no matter how stubborn he may be.

I've learned and grown so much from their dynamic and in a perfect world I want to be like Jimin but right now Jungkook is where am at and if I sink low I'm a Taehyung 💀

I want to be so good at relating with people, not react impulsively, not let people's shit stirr up my own shit like people dont understand just how much Jimin brings to the table.

But I've a been a Jimin and I tell it's exhausting

Its exhausting being the one to reason all the time, be thoughtful all the time, care about the consequences of things and just plain be the mature one and intelligent one all the time

Baby now I let all burn and toast to the flames 🔥 😍

If you won't think before you act ill let you deal with the consequences of that. If you won't nurture our relationship back I'll let it wither, if you won't be the first to Apologize I won't either and let this relationship go to hell

I don't have to be the one to save it all the time and I feel neither should Jimin you know???

If people wanna be ghetto and not care about the little things that fosters a community and bridges relational gaps man don't care either you can't carry certain things all on your back.

Which is also not to say he must come from a place of malice no. He just has to care for his own emotional well being and understand if he keeps going like that he will burn out and feel emotionally depleted.

I hope he does more than pat him on the back. May be order a cake for him and gather a few friends to sing happy birthday for him because I know Jungkook makes his birthdays special for him even if he doesn't post about it🤷🏾

[aprillikesthings]

can I finish this before I gotta get ready and leave for the Maundy Thursday service let's find out lol

(Edit: Nope.)

THREE MORE EPISODES LEFT

*cries*

s5 ep11 Failsafe

someone hold me

I have to actively suppress the urge to read the synopses of the episodes at this point

oh also lol this is just funny to me, I saw a post Elsewhere Online where someone watched all of spop the first time and they HATED the dumb names everyone has, and I think they mentioned Castaspella specifically.

And like FIFTY PEOPLE responded with "dude they had to use the original names from the 1980's series" and I was the only one there old enough to have watched the original series and I had to point out: the original series was made to sell toys. The vast majority of cartoons in 1985 were only made to sell toys. They gave everyone those dumbass names because it was easy for kids to remember and beg for the toys."

That's also why all the female characters in the original series have the exact same body type. Yeah the body shape itself was due to 1980's-era sexism, but also? It was so much cheaper to animate the show AND make the toys that way!

But also, it's hella ironic to me that the 2018 show has so little official merch!

And now, back to crying over cartoon lesbians:

good question

ugh I hate her

Shadow Weaver: "While you were traipsing around in space,"

OH MY GOD they were saving a few people's LIVES and it was kind of IMPORTANT but WHATEVER

"--some of us have been working to stop the Heart of Etheria from falling into Prime's hands. And we discovered the same thing you did. Rumors of a Failsafe that will break the restraints the First Ones built and set the stolen magic free." Glimmer: "Are you kidding? After everything that happened last time, you're still going after the Heart of Etheria? And you're helping her?" Castaspella: "We're trying to free the magic for all of Etheria so we can be strong enough to fight Prime. I'm doing this for your father and for you. Shadow Weaver is the lesser of two evils."

I love that she says this right in front of Shadow Weaver. Like "girl I hate her too"

nice

okay ngl I have mixed feelings about this one because unfortunately she's not entirely wrong here but also, shut the fuck up

(something something people are responsible for their own actions but also she wouldn't have done all that godawful shit if Shadow Weaver hadn't been such a shitty parent)

but yeah Catra gets up like she's about to fucking throw some hands and Adora's like It's okay bb

;_;

but also they do need the information Shadow Weaver and Castaspella have

so it turns out Mystacor was built on top of a First Ones' citadel? huh

Castaspella: "Beneath Mystacor, there are many secret tunnels and rooms, forgotten and sealed off. No one has been able to access them in centuries, but there are whispers of what they contain." Shadow Weaver: "An artifact known as the Crystal of Arxia, hidden there by a group of traitorous First Ones." Castaspella: "You said I could do it!"

lol they bicker like old marrieds

Adora: "If you figured it out on your own, why come back here? Why do you need us at all?" Shadow Weaver: "Because Mystacor is controlled by Micah, who, you may recall, is controlled by Horde Prime."

they've been TRYING

"If he seizes the Heart, it will all be over."

Stop toUCHING HER

oh god Adora turns around to ask Catra to help out--and she's gone

YOU'RE THE REASON SHE'S FUCKING "SULKING" and you fucking know it, why are abusers always so god damned surprised to find out their kids don't want to be anywhere near them

(I mean I know why, they think they should be able to control you forever)

aaahahaha Adora's just like Nah I'mma go look for her tho

anyway roll intro!

omg look at Netossa and Spinny on the bottom left awwwww

she looks so sad

well okay sad and angry

their conversation here is so good, because Catra's fully aware of why Adora's doing this, but is really struggling to push past how much she (justifiably!) hates Shadow Weaver and hates being around her

I actually do kinda wish I'd kept a list of all the times Adora does the self-sacrificial thing, separated into "someone asked her to do it" vs "nobody asked her to do it" lol

BUT ADORA EXPRESSES A NEED oh nice that's progress

Adora: "Hey, she can't do anything to us anymore. Please, come. We--I-could really use your help."

two things I really love about this: One, she doesn't say that she doesn't like Adora, just that it's not the reason she's going. Two, I feel like Adora knows damn well Catra's not being 100% honest here.

Like, to some extent Catra's saying this as a way of attempting to protect herself a little. She's taking baby steps towards vulnerability, and it's terrifying! And I think Adora can see that and is fine with it--not JUST because she's like "any crumbs are better than nothing" but ALSO because she doesn't want to push Catra.

Because yeah, if there was any actual doubt that Catra does like Adora--

WELL.

Entrapta was able to get Spinerella's chip out but says it had started fusing with her nervous system and they're running out of time to safely un-chip everyone.

But she's been digging around the network that connects all the chips to Prime, hoping to figure out how to disconnect everyone at once, and Bow gives her a little encouragement, it's really sweet.

OKAY so everyone who can, teleports to Mystacor with Melog making them invisible. (Apparently Catra doesn't get motion sick from it anymore which is nice lol)

I love the way they animated them being invisible

oh GOD okay

Catra turns around and says "looks like there's no sorcerers here" while, unfortunately, a sorcerer walks into the room. Shadow Weaver grabs Catra and puts her hand over her mouth to keep her quiet, and Catra (understandably!! but unfortunately!!) jerks away in fury and yells

And her fury causes Melog to drop the invisibility

And now the chipped sorcerer knows they're all there

they manage to duck the attack but Adora goes to transform into She-Ra--and can't do it

she had this issue last episode aaaugh it's not from being near Shadow Weaver she wasn't there

okay but also Adora runs behind a pillar to hide from an attack with Catra and it's cute

girl help why is this giving me so many emotions

y'know it's funny how often I've bumped into posts of people who are confused as to why Adora starts trusting Catra again so quickly, and I frequently wonder if they forget all the childhood flashback scenes of these two. To varying extents they both spent their entire childhoods seeing the other as their only consistent source of comfort and (something resembling) safety, and with some notable exceptions Adora's spent the last four seasons (which was like three or four years) visibly holding out hope that one day she could trust Catra again. This despite the fact that she now has other sources of safety and comfort and love!!! Being with Glimmer and Bow and everyone else was healing, sure; but it never erased her grief over losing Catra. She always, always held out the tiniest flame of hope that Catra would change sides.

And Catra basically tried lighting her own grief on fire (metaphorically and kinda literally) over and over and it just didn't go away, and I feel like when she saved Glimmer and apologized to Adora she had sort of come to terms with the fact that her grief over losing Adora couldn't be burned away, but of course by then she figured she'd fucked up so bad Adora would never forgive her or trust her again. And rather than take it out on other people or suffer any longer she was willing to just die, instead. She really did think that sending Glimmer to Adora was going to be her last act, and she wanted Adora to know she was sorry before she fucking DIED. And I don't think her saving Glimmer was consciously meant to be proof that she meant her apology, but it was. And that's part of why Adora trusts her again.

The fact is, even after everything that happened, both of them had a hole in their hearts shaped like the other. ;_;

And that's why Adora runs and hides behind the same pillar as Catra. (I mean yes, it was also closer, but that's not tHE POINT)

Anyway, this is all why, as I previously noted, Adora's not being pushy. That failed on her, spectacularly; the couple of times she tried it. Asking Catra to come along on this mission is the closest she's come. And even then, it wasn't "you're a good person deep down and you should change sides because I think I know you better than you know yourself," It was "please do this for me, because I need your help." And Catra is fully aware of how hard that is for Adora.

And these two still have a lot to work out post-canon (like, Catra has still got to deal with her need to not just be seen as Adora's sidekick/shadow, and lbh right now some of the rebellion is like "we're only putting up with you for Adora's sake" as if Catra was Yoko Ono) but that's part of why I'm writing a fic lolol

I have so many feelingssss on a related note I spent like fifteen solid minutes last night in bed having taken an edible and listening to my playlist and staring at this gifset lolol

ANYWAY Castaspella knocks out the chipped dude and they run for it

AAAND lol I gotta get ready to go to church. There's still 17:30 left on this episode. Pfft.

BACK FROM CHURCH I washed someone's feet, they washed mine, they stripped the altar, I go back at one or two in the morning for the overnight vigil

In the meantime: gonna finish this episode

(what is my life sometimes)

Entrapta plans to find a bunch of clones so she can figure out how their signals to Horde Prime work. Swift Wind is like Ugh, fine, I'll go with you, someone's gotta save your ass

Entrapta: "Thanks, bird horse!"

lol how many times have they had that convo

A family can be a sorcerer and her evil ex, a girl and a boy, two traumatized lesbians, and a cat

But also it looks like something out of an episode of Scooby Doo

Shadow Weaver opens a magic door

ngl that's PRETTY. like it's obviously about the Heart of Etheria but wow!

(and there's a dinosaur???)

Adora notices how stressed out Catra is and says "It'll be okay...Trust me." ;_;

Shadow Weaver: "There's no time to waste!"

"...disturbance."

The disturbance was your fault, dumbass. I am reminded of all the times my dad got angry at us for being afraid of him. And would hit us. For being. Afraid of him. Because y'know. That's how you stop a kid from being afraid of you. By hitting them.

In any case Shadow Weaver is still trying to get between them and separate them and I just really need this bitch to stop.

(Yes yes I remember she dies later)

Castaspella: "We're on the right path. The Crystal of Arxia was rumored to be the key to reaching deep magic within Etheria."

"But those who hungered for more power have long sought other ways to obtain the deep magic...with disastrous results."

HIT THE IMAGE LIMIT lemme reblog

[theteasetwrites]

Merciless Beauty

Chapter 8: The Whole Truth Shall Be Seen

❧ Pairing: Knight Daryl Dixon x Princess Reader ❧ Era: Medieval fantasy AU ❧ Pronouns: she/her ❧ Warnings: angst, violence, blood, injury, some scenes may be triggering for those who are sensitive to sexual assault/abuse, so tread carefully! ❧ Word Count: 5.7k

❧ Before You Read...

❧ Glossary

❧ In This Chapter: Captured by the Saviors, you awaken at the so-called Sanctuary, where Sir Negan greets you, though he is displeased by your grief after having witnessed the supposed death of Sir Daryl. His wrath does not spare you. Meanwhile, Alexandria has been ravaged by the Saviors and overtaken by the Dead, but the tide shifts when some unexpected visitors arrive at Alexandria's gates.

❧ A/N: Ok so huge disclaimer—Negan is pretty OOC here. I mean, he is a creep and a violent asshole in the show, but I ramped that up a few levels here. After all, this is medieval Negan we're talking about. Medieval men were assholes to women, that's just how it was, unfortunately. And also, I said that a new character would be introduced in this chapter, which is technically true, but also technically not true lol you'll see. Anyway, things are getting intense, and this chapter gets a little dark. You've been warned.

Many times in your life had you awoken from a terrible dream, only to come to the slow realization that none of it really happened. 

But there’s still that sense of dread, those several moments during which your mind tries to put the pieces back together, still somewhere between reality and dream. At some point, relief would soon set in as you’d feel the warmth and comfort of your bed, and it would be clear that it was all some trick of the mind. Not long after that, your dream would become foggy, to the point that you could no longer even recall exactly what it was that had troubled you so. It became a distant memory that never really existed to begin with. 

Now, though, you awoke without that relief. Now, you woke up to the realization that your nightmare wasn’t a dream after all. You were in it, and you were somewhere you did not recognize.

Beneath your curled up body was a large, plush feather bed, draped in the finest silk brocade duvet. Cushioning your head, at least three pillows of similar make. The room was dark, but for a dripping wax candle on the nearest nightstand and a roaring fireplace across the spacious room. 

As your mind began to catch up with your eyes, you sat up quickly, a dizziness overcoming you. Looking down, you were above the covers, wearing the very same pink gown you recalled wearing last, though your shoes had been removed. 

Despite your lack of clarity, the quickening of your shallow breaths and the jitter in your hand as you palmed at your forehead betrayed the subconscious anxiety that overcame you. What had happened? Where were you? 

Questions you knew the answers to, but couldn’t bear to face. First and foremost, you’d have to act without thinking. Thinking would only make you have to process your last memories, and that would ultimately lead to a conclusion you did not have the heart nor the stomach to face. Not without him.

You did not waste another moment. Now fully awake, though still dazed, you lifted yourself from the edge of the bed, sprinting swiftly to the intricately carved wooden doors across the room. Locked, of course. Another more careful gaze around the room alerted you to a window—barred from the outside. 

Dusk had stained the sky a deep, greyish purple. Out the window, you could make out a tall stone wall, not unlike the one surrounding your castle. It seemed to be an inner bailey, which meant you were somewhere inside a keep. When a flash of black and red emblazoned itself on the inside of your eyelids, you remembered just whose keep you must’ve been in.

Turning back to the door, a great anger overwhelmed you. The vile maggots who so pompously dubbed themselves the Saviors had invaded your home. They brought the plague to your kingdom, letting the Dead feast upon your people as they no doubt pillaged their homes and did God only knew what else to those poor people. 

Worst of all, to you… You couldn’t even think of it, what you last remembered seeing. You did not allow the thought to come to mind, though the image was impossible to ignore. It was what so inflamed you, ravaged you. 

Even if you couldn’t let yourself process it, you still knew. You could still feel that residual anger welling up inside you, the sparks from that flame scratching the back of your throat until you couldn’t keep the fire in you any longer. You raised both fists to slam them against the hard wood of the door, over and over again, as a ragged, bitter yell erupted from the pit of your stomach and expelled out your trembling lips.

“Negan!” you bellowed, voice nearly drowned out by the incessant banging of your fists. “Let me out, you… you wretched beast! I demand to be let out! I—I demand to be returned to Alexandria at once! Open this door, or so help me, I’ll… I’ll—”

A muffled laughter interrupted your tirade. It came from not far outside the door, but it did not belong to Negan. Guards. It must’ve been guards. Despite your fury, you could not bother with their laughing, you could only try to listen in, attempting to discern how many guards were stationed outside that door.

With your ear pressed to the wood, you could now make out heavy, languid footsteps, and a new laugh. A low, lazy chuckle. Negan. 

You were pushed back by a sudden force from the opening door. Without hesitation, you flung yourself towards the opening, only to be caught in a pair of long, lean arms. Despite your frantic squirming, he was strong enough to keep you held against him, closing the door behind him, immediately followed by the sound of a key turning in the lock from outside. Realizing you were stuck in here again, you moved on from your attempt at escaping to the immediate opportunity that presented itself before you: Negan. 

And all the hatred you had within you bubbled to the surface, stinging at the back of your throat like bile. Years of wanting to see the world, of dreaming of a place that was full of hope and kindness and love, made you believe that, somewhere, there was goodness. When you met Daryl, who came from the outside, you knew that to be true. There were good people in this world, people who embodied hope, kindness, and love. When you met Negan, you had met the antithesis of that—the representation of everything you had been told was bad about the outside world. 

You knew this to be true the moment you saw him, and when he nearly murdered Elizabeth. You knew this to be true because of the way he believed he was entitled to you, and to everyone and everything. Above all else, you knew this to be true because he lied. Even corrupt men can keep their word, can abide by their own laws. This man had not even a crumb of honor to his name, and to you, there was no greater virtue than honor, especially for a knight. 

He was no knight, though. You’d known a true knight. For all his lack of chivalry at times, Daryl had more loyalty, more honor, more virtue in his little finger than Negan or any of his so-called Saviors had in their whole bodies. And Daryl… Poor Daryl. 

No, you could not think of that now. All you could think of was your anger, and you’d never been this angry before in your life. In fact, you’d never really been angry at all, until now. 

“Let me go!” you screamed, flailing your arms in a feeble attempt to rid yourself of his grip on your wrists. He walked you backwards, upon his face a great big smirk, rippled by a slow, steady, chuckle that only enraged you more. Before he could set you down, you planted your feet with all the strength you could muster, and as his grip just barely loosened, you swung your balled fists at his chest, much to his amusement. 

“Unhand me!” you cried out, hitting him as hard as you could, though even for a rather slim man, he remained sturdy, his chest puffed out and taking each of your wobbly blows. In a fit of rage, you felt hot tears begin to flow over the slopes of your cheeks, your composure completely obliterated when your blurred vision caught full view of his lips, which his tongue coated in a sheen of saliva as he watched you struggle to hurt him. 

“Vile wretch!” you spat, such words having never corrupted the purity of your mild mannered tongue. A slew of other insults followed. “Wicked swine! Stinking, detestable brute! You repulsive bastard, y-you barbarous, vicious goblin! You… You ugly, motherless worm! Loutish pig! Why, you… You deceiver! You beastly, uncouth, dishonorable—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” laughed the man. “You’ve got quite the vocabulary, don’t ya, princess?” 

As he slowly walked you backwards, you felt the back of your knees hit the edge of the bed. With one last missed swipe at him, this time aimed at his smug, arrogant face, you fell, your back onto the feathery soft surface of the luxurious bed. But you did not intend to stay there long, leaping up in an attempt to hit him once again, but he was faster, using his own body to weigh you down as he slowly crawled over you. 

Panting and crying, you took advantage of the momentary space between your bodies to bring up your knee, using it to hit him in the groin before he could fully pin you down. The motion sent him stumbling backwards with a pained groan, allowing you to seize the opportunity to lift yourself to your feet.

Now, panting and crying, you met his gaze. What could you do now? There was no getting out of here. Even if you could get the door open, there were at least four guards outside, and who knows many other Saviors just around the corner. You could not kill Negan, no matter how much the idea tempted you. 

It seemed there was no end to this powerlessness, this lack of control of the things happening around you that seemed to plague you with every step you’d take. Even now, especially now, there was no escape, and all you could do was watch it all fall apart right in front of you.

“Damn,” huffed Negan, adjusting the crotch of his black wool chausses, his lack of decency disgusting you. With a bite of his bottom lip and a backwards tilt, he laughed once more. “You’re a little firecracker!”

Ignoring his quip, you narrowed your eyes in an attempt to appear threatening, though you could not keep your voice from breaking as you spoke. “Where is my father?”

There was so much you wanted to say to him, to scream at him, to beg of him, despite all your composure telling you to never, ever beg to someone who surely thrived on the submission. You could not let yourself give into his sick desires—all you could do, as a princess, was demand the answers to questions you deserved to know the answers to. You deeply feared those answers, as the odds of them being the ones you wanted were surely not in your favor, but you had to know. It was the greatest agony to not know at all. You only hoped the silver-tongued deceiver before you didn’t mistake your poise for meekness.

The several moments Negan spent eying you up and down only contributed further to your frustration. “He’s alive.”

That’s it?!

“Well, as far as I know.”

You marched towards him with several aggravated huffs fueling you. “What exactly does that mean?”

Negan only seemed to be amused by your closer presence, leaning forward to the point that you could feel his warm breath on your cheek. “We left that place for the dead bastards. Last we saw of the king, he was fighting back pretty damn good. Looked like he was winning, too. He’s tough, I’m sure he’s fine.” 

Negan’s answer only worried you more. He could’ve gotten bit, he could’ve gotten overtaken, like… 

“But that knight,” chuckled Negan with a shake of his head. In his voice was joviality that frightened you, as you knew the kind of thing that Sir Negan found to be amusing. 

“Knight?” you repeated, coming closer to him now. “What knight? Did you see him? Is he all right? What happened to him?”

Deep in your heart, you knew, once again, the answer would not please you. Just by the gleam in his eyes, the despicable curl in his lips, the diabolical lift of his brows. He found it all to be quite funny, but when he noticed your earnestness, his look of delight faded to a seriousness that matched yours, though his was not born of concern for your knight. 

“Now, why would the Crown Princess of Alexandria care so much for the wellbeing of a useless knight?”

Useless?! You had half a mind to strike him across his insufferable, repugnant face, but you couldn’t let your anger overcome you when all you wanted was to know that your love was alive. You couldn’t bear to even think otherwise, not until you had some kind of confirmation. That confirmation would be the only semblance of comfort you could cling to.

“He is not useless,” you replied. “He was trying to help me. H-he was…” It hit you then. Was. 

As you lowered your gaze to squeeze your eyes shut, compelling your tears to fall in the hopes that the vile man couldn’t see them, his tongue tisked at you, as if in disappointment at your sadness.

“Oh, my sweet princess,” he lamented, to which you squeezed your eyes even harder, as your fist balled in a tight clench around nothing. You strangled the air with your trembling hands, wishing it could be Negan’s neck. “You cared about him, didn’t you? Man… He went down. It was a bloodbath. I would not have wanted to be him, I’ll tell you that.”

As your knees weakened, you sat yourself down on the edge of the bed, grief finally overcoming your abject rage. Though you could not allow yourself to break too much before Negan, the man who had indirectly caused the death of the man you loved, you also could not bear to go another moment without weeping for him, that image of him surrounded by rotten gnashing teeth and cold, lifeless bodies that closed in all around him. 

As you cried, it was as if you could feel your heart breaking in two, a sensation you hadn’t experienced since your mother’s death. It was a dull, lingering pain that sharpened with each deep, heaving intake of air, as if the simple act of breathing contributed a new crack to your already shattered heart. After all, why should you breathe? What point was there, without love, without him, who embodied love? 

Living now, after you had sworn you’d found the other half of your soul, seemed selfish. Daryl had died being selfless. He had fulfilled his promise to you—he died for you. Not Alexandria, not the duke, not your father, not God. He died because of his devotion to you. 

That only made it worse, knowing that you, in some roundabout way, had a hand in his death. If it weren’t for you, he’d be alive. He wouldn’t have suffered, dying in the worst possible way you could imagine. Thinking of the pain he must’ve endured, the fear in his heart… Oh, my love!

“There, there… Don’t cry.” The weight of Negan sitting beside you reawakened your rage, his voice grating as you shot up from your seat and glowered at him through wide, piercing eyes. 

“Deceiver!” Your shaky finger accused him as you pointed his way in a frantic motion. “You lied! You said you’d return to Alexandria in a week’s time. You bring walkers to my doorstep, you steal from my people, you destroy my property—my home, and now you tell me not to cry?! How dare you! How dare you even speak to me at all! My knight is dead because of you!”

Standing to his feet, he matched your wide-eyed gaze with his own, though in his eyes was something far more sinister—a crazed fury that made you stumble backwards, nearly tripping on your heel. 

“Your knight?”

The cold hard wall pressed against your shoulder blades, while Negan’s arms outstretched to cage you between his body and the wall behind you. Still crying, heaving, panting, you began to shake in fear. The man might’ve been smarter than you’d thought, if he had caught onto your love for Daryl. Your knight. 

“Th-the knight,” you replied, attempting to appear innocent despite your quivering lips and beating heart against his chest telling a different story. “You got the knight killed.”

“No.” His voice was low, and much too quiet for comfort. You were used to him practically bellowing each word, not barely speaking above a whisper. “No, you said ‘my.’ Tell me… what is that knight to you, princess? You seem awfully saddened by his untimely demise. What makes him your knight?” 

Your attempt to squirm yourself away from him was made in vain, your shoulders held in the grip of his strong hands, his curled fingers digging into your flesh. 

“Nothing,” you replied. “Let me go.” The last three words went unacknowledged. 

“Why would you cry for him, then?” Repulsed by his face just an inch or two from yours, you tried to turn your head, but his hand was faster. Squeezing your chin and cheeks was his hand, cold and dry. Despite your shaking, he held your face still, forcing your eyes to stay glued to his. “Tell me!”

In your fear, your voice collapsed underneath itself, though you still spoke, although your words were muddied by your tears. “H-he was my friend. Please!” Now you had to beg him, just to let you go from his painful grasp, which had lowered to the junction of your neck and your jaw. Any lower, he’d begin to restrict you of air, but he wanted you to speak. He could only strangle you enough to still hear you admit to the paranoia that had suddenly overcome him. He knew that knight meant more to you than what you said. “You’re hurting me!”

But he did not care, why would he? You knew all along that Negan’s desire to have you was not born of any kind of admiration of you, though perhaps the closest sentiment he held was lust. His lust for power, though, dominated any lust for you that might’ve existed in his cold, black heart. He wanted you as a trophy, as evidence of his conquest of the once great kingdom of Alexandria. He could hurt you now with no remorse, and no consequences.

After all, you were his now, as far as he was concerned. Little did he know that you belonged to someone else.

But he was catching on, so much so that you could see it in his eyes, feel it in the tightening of his hand as he threatened to crush your jaw. You’d never felt such strength like that before. The only other touch from a man you knew of was Daryl’s, and though you’d felt his strength, how firm his touch could be, but never like this. Never threatening, never anything to be fearful of, never painful. 

“Friend?” he questioned, squeezing around the top of your neck, his thumb digging into your tensed muscles. “With a knight?”

“Yes! Please!” The pain only worsened as you spoke. 

Negan pushed his face closer, so close that his heaving breath defiled your cheek as he whispered, “I don’t believe you.” His voice was calm, though, not tense. You almost wished he had screamed at you, instead of this strange, serpentine hiss that escaped from his lips, as if even the sound itself was disgusted by his mouth and could not stand to be trapped in there a moment longer.

Your whimpering and panting quickened as he loosened his grip on your neck, bringing his hand up to let his thumb brush over the apple of your cheek. The feeling made you flinch, your eyes squeezing shut as more tears were forced out. “You’re real pretty when you cry, you know that, princess?”

I hate you! The words were drowned out by your weeping, the lump in your throat pushing them down until all that you could muster was a strangled whimper. 

“But, pretty as you are,” he continued, and though you could not see him, your eyes closed for fear of witnessing whatever he was going to do to you next, “I know a whore when I see one.” 

With hardly a moment to process his words, your eyes shot open with the feeling of his knee parting your legs, and his other hand scrambling between your bodies to find the edge of your skirt. You wriggled in his grasp, but he only used his body to further press you against the wall, this time with a great slam. 

“Told you to keep your purity for me.” You grasped at his shoulders, trying to push him away, but he was too sturdy on his feet, as he began to lift your gown. “Let’s see if you did.”

You were still squirming when you felt a hard, cruel clench around your bare thigh, moving fast to slither upwards till he groped you, causing you to cry out in combined pain and fear. While his body held you in place, he used his other hand to continue trying to lift your gown. What he wanted, you knew, was to see if your maidenhead was intact, and possibly worse. 

Either way, you were going to suffer. If he inspected your womanhood, he’d surely find that you’d been deflowered, and for an unmarried woman in this world, that could mean death. You did not care now, though. Death frightened you, but there were worse things. For all your innocence, you knew that. All you cared about now was preserving whatever was left of your dignity. 

In your panic, you managed to wriggle your arm loose enough to flail your hand with as much strength as you could muster, striking Negan across his face so hard that he stumbled backwards, though you did not move a muscle now. You couldn’t. His stare held you hostage, brown eyes narrowed with sharp pins for pupils. You could only tuck your hands behind your back as you straightened against the wall, wishing somehow that, if you pressed yourself into it hard enough, you could dissolve into it. 

With each step he took closer to you, it seemed the ground shook under his heavy feet. In his gaze now was nothing short of pure, unadulterated fury. When he was close enough to reach you, he stopped to stare you down with an assault all on its own, but it did not prepare you for the blow. 

“You bitch!”

Just as you’d struck him, he struck you back, only with the back of his hand, and with more intention. Your hit was practically a reflex, an instinct to defend yourself. Even if you’d hit him with more animosity than fear, you’d have been too weak to even daze him. His hit was of greater proportions, strong enough to knock you to the floor, where the first droplet of blood dripped from your nose. 

Negan did not stay long to watch you weep, curled up into yourself as he turned to the door, storming out until all that was left of his presence was the burst of air from the slam of the door. A rattling of the lock from outside, and then his voice bellowed again. 

“You’re staying in there until you learn some goddamn manners, princess!” His fist banged on the door, causing you to flinch and wrap yourself tighter in your own embrace. As his ranting voice faded and his distant footsteps whittled down to a silence, you were left shaking, bleeding, wailing—utterly alone.

“He’s waking up now… Get the king.”

For several moments, that voice was nearly drowned out by the deafening beat of his heart, and the faint remnants of snarls and groans that still lingered. The memory made him flinch, jolting his body awake as he sat up, already looking around frantically as his senses were thrust back into gear.

He did not recognize his surroundings, the low ceiling of stone propped up by stone walls, with pale streams of overcast daylight flowing in through the lone window. Though at first he could not notice the persons standing immediately beside him, he caught sight of several hay-stuffed beds, upon which were injured men, some even missing limbs with bloody rags wrapped around the stumps.

Not a good sign.

But he couldn’t fret for himself, not when the very last thing he recalled was his princess being dragged away. 

“Take it easy.” Richard’s voice finally sounded clear as the knight sat up with a huff. If it weren’t for the duke’s grip on his bare shoulder, he would’ve been halfway out the door by now. 

“Slow down.” The king’s voice came from behind Richard as he approached. Ezekiel looked tired, his once regal clothing stained with blood. “How is he?” 

He wondered that himself. Looking down, his lower half was covered by a thin wool blanket, his top half bare but for a band of gauze wrapped around his waist, stained by a red circle of blood on his side. 

Before Richard could even answer, though, Daryl attempted to stand again, his mind isolated on one thing. Turning to face the duke, he simply asked, “Where is she?”

By name, not the princess. Not her highness. Not even your name. She. She, the only she who mattered to him. His she. 

Richard understood, of course. He knew not of the consummation of your love, but he knew the knight well enough to know just who was on his mind at all times, and that was you.

“Negan.” The simple utterance of his name was enough to have him back on his feet, much to the frustration of Richard, who pushed him back down, urging him to rest. 

And then, he had to come to terms with the reality that was right in front of him—the grim truth. Having woken up after his last several moments of consciousness were spent surrounded by walkers, the worst case scenario was all too likely. 

But he did not worry for himself now, no. He worried that, if he were bit, he could not fight—he could not bring you back to your home. 

“Am I… Am I bit?”

Richard shook his head. Upon closer inspection of the usually clean-cut, well-groomed man, he looked the most disheveled and exhausted he’d ever seen, with once luscious curls turned into a frizzy, blood-caked rat’s nest, and pronounced bags underscoring his eyes. If the duke and the king looked like that, Daryl was afraid to look at himself.

“No,” replied the duke. “You’re not bit. You must’ve fallen on your dagger when you were in the herd. The wound is shallow, but you should rest. You were passed out from exhaustion when we got to you.”

“Nah,” he said, this time standing up without Richard’s intervention. “I don’t need rest.” Though his wound made him flinch in pain as he walked, he crossed the room to the small window, where outside he could see twenty or so men, some nobles, some peasants, fighting off walkers, thinning out the remaining herd in the castle’s courtyard.

The earth they stood upon was blotched in red and decorated with the decaying corpses of once half-living walkers. Leaning forward, he took note of the state of the barbican, where men in tattered rags and bloodied hands worked to close off the entrance. Shattered bits of iron littered the ground, where the inner portcullis once had been. They must’ve blasted through it with cannonfire, letting in the Dead once the fortifications were destroyed. 

“The Saviors did not kill,” said the king. “The Dead did… The Saviors left them to turn. The damage to Alexandria’s outer walls was too severe to repair. The Dead now roam the streets, with the remaining population of my people taking shelter in the castle, here.”

“How many?” asked Daryl, turning back towards his bed to procure a fresh white linen chemise from the nightstand. As the restless knight dressed himself, the king did not answer, only exchanged a look of confusion with the duke. “How many people are left?” repeated the increasingly impatient knight. 

Piping up from behind the king was Lord Constable Aaron. “One hundred and twenty-five accounted for in the castle,” answered the man. “But most of them are civilians. We only have a trained militia of forty or so able-bodied men. The rest are either infirm, elderly, women, children, or just simple craftsmen. Not enough fighters. Not enough defense to handle another herd.”

“And the cannonfire last night,” added Richard. “That’ll bring more of them.”

“State of the armory?” Daryl asked, choosing to ignore the less than hopeful rhetoric. “Blades, artillery, gunpowder… Weapons. We need weapons.”

“Very nearly depleted,” answered Lord Chancellor Gerald. “What the men have out there is all we have left. An abundance of dull blades and weak fists.”

As he sat to lace on a pair of brown leather boots, Daryl huffed a sigh. “And cavalry. The horses…” He feared the answer. Phantom, his steed, had been more than just a faithful destrier, but a friend. 

“One of the few things we were able to protect,” replied the king, much to Daryl’s momentary relief. “They’re all safe in the castle stables. In fact, it’s our only recourse. Once the tunnels are cleared, our plan is to escape through there, on horseback, then seek refuge in a neighboring kingdom.”

That wasn’t good enough. 

“And the princess?” Daryl met the king’s sturdy gaze, though it quickly crumbled as he processed the knight’s question. “What’s your plan for getting the princess back?”

“Daryl—” The duke’s voice was drenched in hopelessness, which the knight quickly shot down. 

“No,” he replied sternly. “That’s the priority: bringing her back, killing Negan and every damn Savior we can get our hands on.”

A silence fell over the infirmary, with the king lowering his head, as if in shame. “We do not have the manpower nor the armaments to fight a force like Negan’s,” he said. “They rival our numbers by at least four times, and their armory is unmatched. We saw only a fraction of it last night. No one wants to get my daughter away from that… serpent more than I do, but it would be a lost cause, and we’d lose more people. Innocent people, people who cannot fight. We cannot send them into battle.”

“Then what will we do?” questioned Daryl, his voice raising enough to nearly echo in the small infirmary. “Every second she’s there, she could be…” As he trailed off, he stopped himself from continuing his thought, lest the extent to which he cared for you be revealed. “There must be something.”

I’ll go in there myself if you don’t have the balls, he wanted to say, but he’d already raised his voice at the king once today, and he did not want to bend his code of chivalry more than necessary. Daryl knew that King Ezekiel was a good man, a good father, a good king. You’d told him so, and if anyone’s word meant anything to him, it was yours. 

He understood the king’s hesitation to lead the remaining able-bodied population of Alexandria into battle against the Saviors. He knew that it was a long shot, that the likelihood of saving you was one in a million. He knew, above all else, that King Ezekiel was only weighing the pros and cons of his decisions, doing what was best for the survival and longevity of his kingdom, his people. The king was simply acting upon logic, but Daryl was never particularly fond of logic.

Sensing Daryl’s distress, the duke pulled him aside, his hand upon the knight’s shoulder to offer him a semblance of comfort. Leaving the king and his advisors to speak, Richard held the knight’s gaze in the corner of the infirmary. “We’ll figure something out,” he said quietly. “But we have to wait for the right time.”

“I can’t wait,” he simply said. “I can’t.”

“I know, but you’re not going to be able to save her if you get killed the minute you get to the Sanctuary, and that’s what’s gonna happen. Hell, we don’t even know where the Sanctuary is, Daryl.”

I’ll find it. I’ll find her. I’ll find him. I’ll kill him.

But he only nodded solemnly, chewing his bottom lip as he tried desperately to come up with something he could do. There was nothing. 

“Just… Just can’t let him have her. Not without a fight.”

The comforting weight of Richard’s hand upon his shoulder was a welcome feeling. “You’ve already fought for her, Daryl. You’ll fight for her again, but not now. Not until—”

“Your majesty!” One of the last remaining guards had thrown open the door to the infirmary, looking panicked as he cried for the king. 

Ezekiel pushed past his advisors, approaching the guard with a hurred, yet somehow dignified, step. “What is it?”

The guard could only look at the king wide-eyed for several moments, until he began to stutter, out of breath and shaking his head as he tried to put into words what he had come into the infirmary to tell the king. 

“Speak, man!” demanded Ezekiel. “I have very little time for this dawdling.”

“At-at the drawbridge,” he stammered, “there’s a… there’s a… man.”

“A man?” questioned the constable. “Who?”

“Well, many men. Many, many men.”

The king’s eyes widened. “Another attack?” he asked.

“Th-they claim to be… friends. The man leading them wishes to speak to you.”

This piqued the knight’s interest as he exchanged a look with the duke. There was tension in the air, but not the kind that preceded a calamity. It was the kind of tension that only uncertainty could conceive. Even in the best of times, there was no way to tell who really was friend or foe. Now, more so than ever, Alexandria was vulnerable. A friend, if truly a friend, could mean salvation for the kingdom, but a foe could bring it down in one fell swoop. 

The king, naturally, had a few more questions before he agreed to meet these so-called “friends” outside his castle. “And who is this friend?” he asked. “And what does he want?”

As if in disbelief at his own knowledge, the guard shook his head once more. “I—I… He only said he wants to speak to the king, and he calls himself…”

Now frustrated, Ezekiel took the guard’s shoulders in his hands as he shook him gently, as if to rouse him from his stupor. “Calls himself what?”

The guard huffed, almost with a tinge of a laugh to his voice.

“Jesus.”

~

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[buckybarnesss]

I don't know if you've discussed this before, but what are your thoughts on the whole "you can only find the Nemeton if it wants you to find it" thing? Because I have my doubts about that.

Like, if that were true, did it WANT to be cut down and carved into a little box? Did it WANT to be found by Noshiko as a place to house the Nogitsune, then found by the Darach who played the smallest of parts in releasing the Nogitsune, then found again to release the fireflies/oni to defeat the Nogitsune, just to then be found one more time to bring the Nogitsune back to life?

Either the tree is over here playing four dimensional chess with wants that are anybody's guess, or there's another reason why sometimes people can find the Nemeton and sometimes they can't.

(Don't get me started on Peter finding the Nemeton no problem at the end of 3A or we'll be here all day 😒)

the short answer is that yes the nemeton is playing four dimensional chess but it is still a tree. just a somewhat sentient one that has willpower.

however, it's not the only being, creature or person in beacon hills that has influence.

it has to use proxies.

the longer answer gets into a lot of speculative territory which as always with teen wolf brings us to visionary.

chris argent: we're in a nemeton. it's a sacred meeting place. ancient celtic druids would usually choose a large, older tree in a grove. it would represent the center of the world. there was a belief that cutting or harming the tree in any way would cause serious problems for the surrounding villages. gerard argent: what sort of problems? chris argent: fires. plagues. strife. death and destruction of all kinds.

the nemeton is clearly a player in the events that happen around beacon hills. it has influence. i think it is safe to assume that the goal of whomever cut down the nemeton was attempting to remove that influence but only succeeded in weakening it.

the diminished power of the nemeton correlates to the strife the town experiences and it ushers in the era of decline for the hales that ends not just in the tragic fire but in the murder of laura by peter for power.

laura's death at the hands of her own family is the cataclysmic event of teen wolf.

derek: she said that my family didn't just live in beacon hills-- they protected it. 

to me this is why the reemergence of the hales begins in season 3 around the same time the nemeton begins to regain power. cora's return is the herald.

it is also no mistake that derek hale is the one that gives power to the nemeton once more even if it was by accident. it is the place where he experiences transformation not once but twice if we count movie canon.

derek was chosen by the nemeton to be it's champion just as much as scott, stiles and allison eventually were.

on the night scott was bitten by peter it was shortly after the last hale alpha was murdered for the sake of power likely at or very near the nemeton by her own uncle this event causes the nemeton chose scott, stiles and allison to protect it and the town.

this is why it reveals itself to them but in doing so it bound them to it.

this is also why it tried to warn them of the coming danger of the nogitsune, of kate's return and peter regaining power. it even tried to warn allison of her own death.

i think the night laura died she found peter at the nemeton which he was drawn to even in his dissociative and feral state due to the small amount of power given to it by paige's death. laura was an unintentional sacrifice.

peter tells us that talia removed the memory of the location of the nemeton from him and derek but the nemeton is still a tree that has a physical location and he probably followed someone to it. he may have even merely followed an injured jennifer there after derek and scott left her much like he spied on gerard killing matt the pervious season. peter likes to stalk his prey and by killing jennifer he took her power. this is why he's not as weak in s4 and tried to move on scott.

but here's where i get even more speculative with my speculation.

we see in the white room that stiles and the nogitsune are playing go on top of the nemeton.

go is a game played for territory. the nogitsune was playing for not just the territory of stiles's body but also of beacon hills and stiles was bound to the nemeton via the proxy sacrifice.

the nemeton was the nogitsune's prison for many years after it was placed there by noshiko and only was able to escape due to jennifer breaking the cellar of the nemeton in her storm.

the nemeton is also the center of the telluric currents in beacon hills which the nogitsune used. i believe it didn't just want stiles. it wanted to use stiles's connection to the nemeton to co-opt it's power for itself.

paige's death under the nemeton was foreshadowing. there's more than one reason she mirrors stiles in the narrative.

so yeah the nemeton throughout the show is a quiet force that has subtle influence that it uses to try to protect itself and the power it holds from those that would take it but it's still only a tree.

[quartercirclejab]

christmas in the time of hyperabundance

when i was a kid, my favorite Christmas song was a Paul McCartney single called "Wonderful Christmastime"

this schmaltzy ear worm was recorded in 1979, in the short interim between the release of Wings' final album and the release of Paul McCartney's second solo album. it got a lot of radio play over the years, eventually becoming a holiday classic. hearing it on the radio was how i first discovered it, in fact- and the minute i heard it, i knew i wanted a way to play it anytime i wanted to hear it

but that was the challenge: for many years, the only way to actually own the single was to get the 1993 reissue of that Wings album from '79, "Back to the Egg." my childhood was mostly in the pre-to-early internet years, so that meant my options for tracking down that specific reissue of that specific album were limited to local music stores and whatever Wal-Mart happened to be carrying... which meant owning "Wonderful Christmastime" was all but impossible for me

for many years of my childhood, i would look forward to the months when the local radio stations would switch over to playing Christmas music, because it was the only time of year i would get to hear "Wonderful Christmastime." like i said before, it was a popular song in its day, and remained so even in mine, but it was competing for airtime with dozens of other holiday standards. i was lucky if i heard it more than three or four times a holiday season

everything changed in 2001, when Universal Music put out their first holiday compilation album, "Now That's What I Call Christmas." it was the first time i was able to own a version of "Wonderful Christmastime" and play it any time i wanted. a game changer for certain

that was more than 20 years ago. now, at the age of 32, i'm reflecting on how different things are. music is so accessible now- pretty much any song you can think of, by any artist, from any era, is available in some form on the internet. all you have to do is remember the name (sometimes you don't even need that much) and plug it into youtube.

naturally, this is true for "Wonderful Christmastime." the song is on spotify, both in its original and extended mixes- there are also 57 different covers of the song, enough to listen continuously for just over 3 hours.

it's such an extreme reversal of the circumstances of my childhood that it's almost comical, and it's been making me think about how much of American culture in the 2020's relies on hyperabundance and the illusion of choice

it's been observed by parties cleverer than myself that the modern American myth of freedom is intrinsically tied to consumption- we American citizens have been conditioned to view freedom through the lens of what we're allowed to buy, and how much of it there is, and how many choices there are, and how fast we can get it. sure, our leaders regularly disregard the will of people and none of us have the ability to influence how our nation is run, but there are six different brands of mustard to choose from at Wal-Mart, and we can buy as much of it as we want, whenever we want! how can you say we aren't free?

i guess i don't know exactly where i'm going with this, except to observe there seems to have been a shift in the last 20 years toward drowning the American people in a deluge of options that seem distinct, but aren't actually different in any way that's actually meaningful, as a way of pacifying our growing dissatisfaction and providing the illusion of stability. we may not be able to control that our tax dollars are funding genocide, but we can control what brand of donuts we buy. we can control what month of the year in which we listen to Christmas music

[themattress]

If I may vent a little...

Now that we are upon the 10th anniversary of the end of Pokémon's fifth generation and the dawning of its sixth, which also means the end of the Best Wishes anime series and start of the XY anime series, I have thoughts and feelings I wish to express. I still love Best Wishes for what it is, and respect XY for what it is, and will forever tout that both of them were crucial stepping stones in the anime producers' learning curve toward the greatness of the Tomiyasu era we're enjoying today (well, we who have good taste in Pokémon cartoon shows, anyway).

........With that said. Thinking about what they could have been really pisses me off.

As I've covered before, Best Wishes was planned as a Black/White-based series where every major running plot thread would ultimately converge in the third year and result in a games-inspired finale at the Unova League. Ash's quest to collect badges from the Gym Leaders, Iris' character arc and the Village of Dragons, Cilan's position as a Pokémon Connoisseur who evaluates how trainers have brought up their Pokémon, Team Rocket's covert military operation to conquer Unova, the legend of Reshiram and Zekrom / the Heroes of Truth and Ideal, and of course Team Plasma....all of that was to form a greater whole, and it would have been revolutionary for the anime. Unfortunately, Game Freak decided they were in the mood for doing something revolutionary themselves: making full-on sequels Black 2/White 2 rather than the expected Gray edition. This single-handedly destroyed the writers' big plan for the anime series, meaning the plot threads would remain mostly segregated.

And as much of a shame as this is, it couldn't be helped. What absolutely could have been helped, though, was how the third year unfolded even with the separate plot threads. @ultraericthered nailed it in this post - we could have had a Unova League that, while not entirely satisfying, is a step above the mess we ended up getting; we could have had Iris' arc come back in more meaningful ways than just some random filler arc episode with Clair and a post-series special episode tying into it; and we absolutely could have had the Myth Arc hodgepodge of BW/B2W2 material fleshed out into something that was truly great and that lasted the duration of the year. I love Episode N in a bottle, but when I step back and look at it in relation to the greater whole it aggravates me so much. The third year of Best Wishes that we ended up with aggravates me so much! Because there was no good reason for it to be as mediocre as it is; it only happened because Junichi Masuda started on the whole "worldwide release for new gen games on this specific date" trend that the franchise has suffered from ever since. And as a result, we get the year / season (called "Adventures in Unova - and Beyond!" in the international dub) that does little but provide all the valid justification that Best Wishes haters in the online fandom ever needed to justify their hate.

Speaking of which, both the fuckery that Best Wishes' production went through and the online fan hatred for it helped shape the following XY series into being the way it was: the darling of the online fan community but the bane of the Japanese target demographic...and thus the producers due to the free-falling ratings. And I can't help but imagine: what if things went differently? What if we had a series where Ash wasn't hamfistedly turned into the power fantasy his rabid online standom wanted him to be, if Serena wasn't in love with him and like her Pokémon Adventures manga counterpart pursued Sky Battles as her goal rather than Showcases (which makes infinitely more sense given that it's rebelling against her mother pushing Rhyhorn Racing on her and helps make her far less of a retread of May and Dawn), if the early kinks in Clemont and Bonnie's characters were ironed out and their father being a masked superhero made to actually matter, if Team Rocket's zanyness was reigned in and they were allowed to have more carryovers from Best Wishes while still keeping their humorous qualities, and above all: if Alain and Mairin's journey wasn't confined to four occasional side-specials but was the subject of entire episodes? Yes, what if the show had Alain as a dual protagonist and actually rotated his and Ash's stories on a regular basis, which would create less filler and build even more hype for when they cross paths? That would have been absolutely amazing, and set a natural precedent for Ash not being as much "the lead" as he used to be that gets followed up in Sun & Moon where he's part of a large ensemble and Journeys where he and Goh are co-leads side by side. The third year where everything comes together, XY&Z, would have been made even stronger this way and made the series as a whole even more cohesive. I honestly wouldn't dare argue the XY series was overrated if that was the XY series we got! I'd be right there in the chorus singing its praises!

But alas, we got a series where Ash was hamfistedly turned into the power fantasy his rabid online standom wanted him to be, where Serena was in love with him and she pursued Showcases as her goal because the writers wanted to do the May/Dawn formula again except far more gendered this time, where Clemont and Bonnie suffered early kinks in their characters and their father being a masked superhero was absolutely pointless, where Team Rocket suffered a drop in relevancy and competence while behaving crazy to an irritating degree, and where Alain and Mairin only got the four occasional side-specials prior to their involvement in XY&Z which helped make the preceding two years a pandering, formulaic and largely aimless slog. As such, it ended up as just another stepping stone to greatness rather than something great in of itself; forever stuck in the shadow of what it could have been.

Well, I've vented. Now to loop back around to end things on a positive note.

[tvmigraine]

FORGOTTEN LIVES: Robert Holmes

Before we begin! Remember to get a copy of the Forgotten Lives Omnibus at this link! The 31st is the LAST opportunity to preorder the new book before you lose your chance! We're going to aim for another double-post today, so that you have enough time to pick up the book!

In the Chibnall era of the show, we were introduced to the idea of Division - we've yet to see it fully in expanded media, but it seems a lot like the Celestial Intervention Agency, pulling strings in the background to make things work in favour of the Time Lords. The Fugitive Doctor is working (reluctantly?) for Division, but we have yet to see the Doctor's relationship with these shady organisations in the show. With the Camfield Doctor, we saw how they bend the rules and act outside the Time Lords' interests. But what does it mean when the Doctor loses their freedom?

Robert Holmes (1926-1986) may be most well known for the invention of the Sontarans, however has written many important episodes for the show including Brain of Morbius alongside Terrance Dicks under the name "Robin Bland". Along with having written the debut episodes of the Third Doctor, The Master, Jo Grant and Sarah Jane Smith, he's also written the episodes Spearhead from Space, The Deadly Assassin, The Talons of Weng-Chiang, The Caves of Androzani, The Two Doctors and many more from the 2nd Doctor era all the way to the 6th. He would've written The Ultimate Foe to complete the "Trial of a Time Lord" storyline, but passed away before he could finish a script.

Here we see a lonely Doctor working trapped beneath the heel of the Time Lords. Where he would have a companion, he instead has a small device that keeps him under constant surveillance. He's stuck doing missions that makes him do terrible things, waiting for that day where he can turn the tide and wipe the red from his ledger.

Portions of his era make him standout, as he does things I never expected to see from either book. In the first book, when written solely under Jay Eales, we see a similar set up to Dennison's "Gauntlet of Absolution" handled in a much different way. The Doctor, much like his current situation, is supervised by the alien race over the course of weeks as the Doctor tries his best to find the best outcome. An unexpected appearance at the end happily caught me off guard, something I hope to see in future releases.

When introducing other writers to this Doctor, Ian McIntre penned another multi-part story that took us between the Hinchcliffe and Holmes incarnations. We see this Doctor reunite with a friend made many faces ago, acting similarly to stories like "The Girl in the Fireplace" and it's relationship to "Deep Breath", not being a direct continuation as much as it's building on the pre-established lore around a strong concept. There's a moment that shows the Holmes Doctor almost reminisce on better times, when he had more freedom than this face may have ever known.

They're possibly the Doctor go through the most physical anguish out of the other incarnations. Eales writes a fantastic opening scene in "Borrowed Time" that details the scars and injuries that this Doctor has sustained, some to a point that should lead to regeneration but instead he is forced to continue. The Doctor that we see at the start of these stories is nothing like the broken and defeated Doctor we find in his send-off.

And as much as I shouldn't pick favourites, I have to give incredible amounts of respect for this TARDIS interior. Referred to as the Rococo TARDIS, it is a gorgeous steampunk design that feels like this Doctor letting out the personality he wishes he could properly show without regular interference.

I have little else to comment on - unlike the Harper or the Camfield Doctors, Holmes' background is easy to understand and stories are simply good. That being said, I couldn't help but consider the specific pairing up of Series 6B Troughton, Jo Martin and Holmes' Doctor. Three incarnations that would not know each other dealing with some alien planet while navigating the bureaucracy of multiple different Time Lord branches could make for either a fantastic political drama or a very funny political comedy.

For more insight into the creative process of every author that worked on Forgotten Lives, you can go to @forgottenlivesobverse and find interviews from everyone involved across the books. If you're looking for insight on how the outfits were designed, you can go to Paul Hanley's Patreon and find what went into designing each Doctor.

Here's the stories you can look forward to as this Doctor does his best to balance his ledger and make amends, pushed to his very limits.

THE OTHER SIDE by Jay Eales

THE HIVE MINDERS (Part Two) by Ian McIntire

RETROGENESIS (Part Seven) by Philip Purser-Hallard

BORROWED TIME by Jay Eales

Our final post will be the George Gallaccio Doctor, the final Doctor before we would begin the Hartnell era. You've got very little time to get the book, so don't miss out!