#( WALKING TO THE SOMETHING; DASH COMMENTARY. )

[timeclipsed]

...I was a Jimmy Neutron kid, to be honest

[fiilemade]

Oh, uh- ( ....is he interrupting something..? )

[mechahero]

"Maybe I should be!" It would be a lot better than getting into another senseless argument. (That he usually starts sometimes. Not the point though.)

[reallyrandomtj]

TJ: Witnesses other male muses showing 'bare chest' icons

TJ: "Then there is just BLADE wrapped up in enough bandages to mummify himself--"

Blade: "Huh?" can't hear the mun over applying fresh bandages!

[simiansmoke]

@xxlordalexanderxx

[civiclegends-moved]

Tag Dump Pt. 2

[ i saw the gold sunshine glow // aes ]

[ love is never far // ships ]

[ the time is now for us to walk together // call ]

[ everything changes // asks ]

[ bi-product of playing god // ooc ]

[ paint it black // visual ]

[ we're stepping out of the frame // dash games ]

[ welcome to the show // ic status ]

[ something keeps you going farther // dash commentary ]

[ the show goes on // wishlist ]

[ dream your dream // interests ]

[b-skarsgard]

Nosferatu Director Robert Eggers for Empire Magazine June 2025

Bring Out The Dead

"HERE WE CAN see the dogs eating the dead horse," points out Robert Eggers on his Nosferatu commentary. "It's a nice detail."

This is Eggers in a nutshell. The grim everyday visuals. The passion for accuracy.

(full article under the cut)

The deadpan delivery. Among other things, Nosteratu's home-entertainment release includes the extended cut (it's four minutes longer), and Eggers' accompanying unpacking.

It's great to have it all, when such extras are few and far between these days. "Well, I didn't go to film school, and commentaries and special features were a lot of how I learned how to make movies," he explains to Empire. "I think it's important to do."

It's his final bit of work on a film (his fourth, after The Witch, The Lighthouse and The Northman) that has been in the works for decades; no use in cutting corners now, for the version that will exist forever. Eggers' take on F.W. Murnau's folklore interpretation of Dracula was a hit, making $180 million at the box office

— a great haul for a film about an abusive rotting corpse — and was acclaimed by everyone from young goths to old masters like Martin Scorsese, who recently said it was amazing ("There's no way that can't make you feel good," says Eggers).

So, as the director bids farewell to Orlok, we sit down with him to close the coffin for good.

Last time we met in London, you'd been doing Nosferatu press all day, and when you walked in you said, "Moustache, moustache, moustache, moustache, moustache." As in, you'd been asked about Orlok's moustache all day. Were you surprised that that element was such a big deal for people?

Yeah. I mean, I get that. It's a hard pill for some people to swallow. But I also don't care, because there's just no fucking way that this guy wouldn't have a moustache. But I get it. I love the way Max Schreck looks too [in Murnau's original], and it's a change. So, fair play, as people say over here.

There's a scene in the extended cut with Willem Dafoe's Von Franz and Aaron Taylor-Johnson's Friedrich having this intense tit for tat. You say on the commentary that Von Franz keeps trying to get the last word in, but you dialled it down a bit because it was on the verge of getting a bit Mel Brooks.

Was that something you kept on your shoulder, ensuring that the film didn't veer into pastiche?

Mel Brooks' Dracula: Dead And Loving It was very helpful, because it points out all the absurdities in the things that don't work in this story. So I was very consciously trying to find solves for the most egregious things that come up in various tellings of Dracula. But yeah, it was just so much fun to write dialogue for Dafoe's character that sometimes it got out of hand

Ellen (Lily-Rose Depp) is so mentally and physically repressed, by everyone around her, all trying to keep her in her place. Orlok (Bill Skarsgärd) represents the opposite of that. He's been abusing her since she was a kid, but sees something in her that no-one else does. She's drawn to him, and is repelled by the fact that she's drawn to him.

What was it like for you writing all of that, taking into consideration how carefully one must tread with such subject matter? Did it weigh heavy on your soul?

Yeah. But I think that what enables me to do it, in a way that I hope makes it work, is just sticking to the confines of the period. I think if it were a contemporary film and I was dealing with the same kinds of issues, it would be much more complicated to not fuck it up. And it's easier for me and perhaps, hopefully, more effective to certain audience members, to explore this subject matter [in the context of] supernatural vampires.

There are certainly many different layers at play. Orlok visits Ellen one night, and he's standing there in his big cloak, holding his sash. On the commentary, you half-joke that he's trying to look dashing for his lady. And it is funny.

That choice actually comes down to Bill. He was always asking me, "When is he feeling uncomfortable? When is he feeling jealous?" So when we were blocking that scene on set, he was like, "What do you think about this? His hand here? Trying to look, you know..." And I was like,

"Yeah, I like that. It's good."

Because even this centuries-old, abusive dead monster has this little ego and insecurities. He wants this woman to fancy him.

Yeah. (Laughs)

Did you have an intimacy coordinator on set? Because this film is not business as usual in that department: you have this monstrous demon having sex with this woman. That's a whole different level of intimacy and choreography.

Our intimacy coordinator, Bronagh [McAuley], is great. I worked with her on The Northman too. A good intimacy coordinator wants to help you tell the story, and to make sure that everyone is comfortable doing that. A good intimacy coordinator has the imagination to be like, "Okay, we're sensually caressing cavities in a corpse's back, okay, that's something we're gonna do. Cool."

Yes, it's not the usual thing an intimacy coordinator has to deal with.

No. But... (Laughs) you gotta keep things interesting, right?

In terms of the themes, the repression and sexuality and abuse, since the film has been out there, have you had feedback from people who that has really resonated with?

Yeah, I've had positive feedback with it resonating for people about... well, how personal it is, I can't speak to that. There is a lot going on with Ellen and Orlok, and going back to your earlier question, something that was on my mind very much was that... There's a lot of feminist literary criticism talking about the trope in 19th-century fiction of sexualised female characters needing to die at the end of the novel, to be punished for theirtransgressions - unconsciously punished by the male authors. And so here I am, potentially, being a post-Victorian male author and doingthe same thing. But there's also a lot of feminist literary criticism that points out that this archetype of this female who understands the other side of repressed 19th-century society and has a window into it, she is the saviour of society. And so as much as maybe these male authors couldn't handle that, or whatever the fuck, society couldn't handle it, it was clearly reconstellating over and over again, because of its need to speak to this repressed period. And so that was something that, in the writing process, gave me perhaps some more confidence to pursue what I was pursuing.

Bill told me that he'd never played anything this evil before, and never wanted to again. It upset him. Did you feel that from him, when you wrapped?

I mean, I couldn't find him when we wrapped. I said, "Cut," and Bill fucking disappeared! (Laughs) So, yeah, he was definitely ready to get out of there.

There's a great shot in the extended cut of the shadow of Orlok's hand stretching over Ellen and Nicholas Hoult's Hutter when they're lying on the floor. On the commentary you explain that you cut it because of feedback from test screenings where people said there was too much of Orlok's shadow, but that you think maybe you shouldn't have cut it. Are test screenings important for you in terms of how audiences might receive the film?

Test screenings are important, as are friends-and-family screenings, just for getting the movie out there, getting it on its feet, getting people to watch it and understand what's working, what's not working. The thing that I don't like about test screenings is when studios get really obsessed about the numbers, because it's not enough data for it to be empirical evidence of anything. This didn't happen with Focus [Features], but when studios get stuck on the numbers, which can happen, that's when this is a fucking nightmare. But as far as getting people to watch a film, it's great. And when 85 per cent of the people say there's too much shadow, I don't know, maybe there's too much shadow. On the other hand, when all the VFX are done and the music's done and the pace is right, I think probably that shot could have been in there, but at the time, it did feel like I was going overboard with the shadow.

It's great, though, and it's there now.

Yeah, and also in terms of why it might have been fine if I'd kept it — the final music cue where the shadow creeps up the stairs and opens the door and all that shit, when the film was previewed it wasn't finished; it didn't have the kind of tension that it has now. Maybe just that alone would have made it feel different. That's the other thing that's so frustrating about previews: the movie's not done.

You and the cast did some press photos on a staircase at St. Pancras Renaissance Hotel. Did you see that people noticed it was exactly where the Spice Girls' 'Wannabe' video was shot?

I sure did, yes. I wasn't aware, but [at the time) Emma Corrin and, I think, Aaron Taylor-Johnson were mentioning it while we were getting the pictures taken.

Well, that video is iconic to some people.

Yes. (Laughs)|

There was generally an amazing response to the film. It's by far your biggest hit at the box office - has that changed things in terms of what has come your way since, and what happens next?

Yes. But we'll see how it all pans out. I'm excited that I'm already working on the next one, getting it up on its feet.

Is that Werwulf?

Yeah, unless something totally fucking crazy happens.

Nosferatu was a lifelong obsession — have you always been fascinated by werewolve and werewolf movies too?

Yeah. I mean, nothing is going to be Nosferatu, as far as personal attachment (goes], but yeah, werewolves have been an important monster as well. And it's kind of a unique genre. The finest werewolf movie is a comedy, which is kind of interesting. One thing I would actually like to say about Werwulf is. I don't know who leaked what, but it's been said and been interpreted as an official statement that [the dialogue of the] movie is in Old English. But obviously, because of the period [the 13th century] it's set in, it's Middle English, and I would just like to be clear on that.

All of your films are set in very specific time periods, steeped in history, and you've always been so immersed in the research and the writing and the production, the detail. What residue remains with you? What stays in your head?

I mean, they're all things that I care about, so... I will read an article about a new Viking archaeological find. And I will go to a witchcraft museum. I'm still interested in all this stuff.

There is only so much room I can have with things that I'm writing; two to three things can only fit in there at a time without everything getting jumbled. But I mean, I've written another medieval movie that hasn't been made.

"The Knight"?

Yeah. But also, I know a ton about Viking Age farming and a ton about Tudor and Stuart farming. So even without the research into the medieval farming, which I'm still doing anyway, I have a good foothold in it.

In February you went to London's Prince Charles Cinema to present The Witch, which had premiered at Sundance ten years earlier. Are you nostalgic like that? What did it mean to you, to introduce your debut film a decade on?

It was pretty extraordinary and humbling. And to have that crowd be so enthusiastic to see it, it was cool. And yeah, the movie changed my life.

I assume you didn't stay in there and watch it again.

No. No, thank you. (Laughs)

[badaboomx]

Cause dancing's what I love (Bada Lee x Reader)

PAIRING: Bada Lee x Fem!Reader SETTING: Street Woman Fighter 2 AU, Reader belongs to a made-up crew. Reader challenges Bada to a battle, but with a twist. WORDS: 1.4k

ⓘ Diping my toes into writing fanfic again after a bit. I hope you enjoy it.

Gosh, this competition was TOO serious for your taste.

Battle after battle, you saw serious emotions and tension never ending. Old feuds surfaced and bubbled when people picked their opponents. Only one or two crews were actually having fun and having a gas, taking it as seriously as it should be taken, but even your own crew was caught up in the emotions of having been harshly (some say unjustly) critiqued by people who just didn’t get it. You guys won one, lost one, and now it was up to you to take the floor and challenge someone to a battle to stand your ground and show what you’re made of.

But when that mic landed in your hands you thought to shake things up a bit. Your feet moved almost by themselves and you got up on someone’s space. Someone that caught your attention.

The tall and elusive Bada Lee, the leader of Bebe, who had danced against Redy and wowed everyone with her cool swagger. But let’s back it up, why did you pick her?

Well, because when you walked in with your crew, she seemed to be… quietly surprised. If not quietly intimidated, perhaps with a dash of intrigue that she tried to hide well. The reaction of the dancers to you and your crew were mixed with respect and straight up disrespect on the hand of some of the rookies, but you dusted your shoulders and carried on.

However, from Bebe, some of the girls have made comments about you and your crew not being all that memorable, becoming noise in the background or something. Because you liked to kick stuff up, you walked up to their cubicle just as you heard that and looked around to find the girls who said it. Yet, your eyes landed on Bada who you could swear gulped as you approached, but didn’t move her gaze away. It intrigued you, like she was ready to face up to you even if you were quite a formidable foe on the dance floor. The girls who made those comments in question stared back with a quiet rage, and you were determined then to make an impression.

Most importantly, you were interested in getting that Bada to react.

“Dance with me, Bada,” you said to the mic clear and concise and the people cheered for this unexpected face-off.

Bada adjusted her cap and stood up, towering over you and putting that cool ‘idgaf’ face on as she walked over the stage.

Unfamiliar music blared from the speakers and you know it was her turn. The music overshadowed every cheer and every commentary, the world around you muffled as you observed your opponent. While she wasn’t predictable you knew and understood her style. She hit hard, her popping was unmatched and she stared at you right in the face. But something was different. While everyone else called each other out and taunted each other, Bada seemed to do more than just taunt. It was a tacit response to what you said earlier, and you understood the message.

“You wanna dance? Then let’s dance.”

She hit with precision, varied from smooth to rough, and made all those forty seconds count to her favor. The song was over and slowly transitioned to your picked song, the crowd around you cheering and your crew hyping you up to take that stage and tear it up.

The song choice was something your teammates didn’t expect, but knew what was coming after hearing just the first few notes. You were known for smooth and cool dancing, usually backed by a hip-hop track – or just plain energy backed by lively music that could make anyone smile. But you weren’t new to dancing to ‘I’m a Slave 4 U.’

Bada stood there a bit confused for a second, you could tell, her body instinctively moving to the beat like she was born to do so, but you were looking to break that cool facade of hers, to make her stumble and stutter.

So you came out of the gate swinging, embodying that slow and smooth swagger you were known for, but that dash of sensuality and that eye contact you held told everyone one thing. This wasn’t a battle for you, the way you smirked and smiled made it clear. Blending in the background and drama my ass, you were there to connect to your opponent, to get a personal victory even if you didn’t win the battle. You were about to make this fun for everyone watching.

You made sure to show off your moves, to show your versatility, using the space of the battle zone to your advantage and even facing the judges for the first few moments, and Bada could only predict one or two moves and remained cool, vibing.

But then you approached, got really close to her. Your hands on her shoulders, looking into the shadows casted by her cap, and glancing into those eyes who were fixed onto yours. You could read them in that split second, they were surprised, her body had tensed up at your touch for a second – unfamiliar. But she welcomed it just like a challenge.

‘Baby, don’t you wanna Dance above me.’

Your hands slid down her shoulders, trailing down her body as you both swayed to the rhythm, watching her lips twitch into a smile that she couldn’t contain, her arms raising and her hands landing on her head as if by instinct. Your hand grabbed a fistful of her shirt and pulled her closer, but it was not like she was pulling away either. You let go of her only to turn around and really lean against her, swaying your hips to the beat and matching. Just as you were wondering if you were breaking a rule, if you were pushing it, you felt that subtle presence of her hand on your hips, her body grinding against yours for a brief moment – like she was caught up in the moment, acting on impulse. It felt good, warm and safe, like the battle was no longer important. When you came to, you had grabbed her hand and intertwined fingers briefly before pulling away, noticing the various reactions from people all around you and even your crew who was absolutely flabbergasted, but when you turned to face Bada and finish off your set you couldn’t help but to notice the redness in her face and that slightly nervous exhalation, coupled with a smile she couldn’t shake.

Oh, she liked it, a lot. Just like you liked it a lot. And while she wasn’t visibly shaken, she was definitely taken aback.

The song was over, the announcer made sure you both heard that since it seemed like the battle had gotten way out of hand.

You both stood awaiting judgment but you knew exactly the verdict you were going to get. You didn’t really ‘battle’ as the others had, and Bada absolutely did more to showcase a true fighting spirit. You? You were just there to make the tall woman flustered, to give a strong memorable impression on people. You were doing it for fun, because you could. Confident and accomplished, you stood there without moving an inch but with a soft smile fixed on your lips; Bada on the other hand stood swaying, hands clasped together behind her, her eyes searching you every now and then but unable to stay looking at you, and not daring to not look at the judges as they thought out their votes.

Right as rain, Bada won the battle and the comments were as you expected it. Not feeling like you had to explain yourself, you merely bowed and looked forward to the next opportunity.

But when Bada turned to see you, the poor thing looked like she wanted to say something to you. However, the show had to keep going and she had to return to her cubicle to attach her second win for the night.

You didn’t mind, because once you were at your crew’s hideout, winding down from a long day of battles, a note slipped from under the door in the middle of all of you chatting your heads off about today’s event.

When you picked it up and read it, you couldn’t help your own smile.

‘Let’s do it again?’

And you didn’t need to know who signed it.

Part II here

[bebe-writes-stuff]

Kazutora x Y/n smut

--TWO SMUTS IN ONE DAY??? crazy ik, we on a grind ho--

--bitchhh I can't write smut It makes me so embarrassed istg I PHYSICALLY CANT DO IT HELP MEEE----

The evening air was cool at Musashi Shrine, the tranquility punctuated by the rustling of leaves and the distant hum of city life. Kazutora sat on the shrine steps, his shoulders slumped, eyes reflecting the turmoil inside him. Y/n watched him quietly, her heart heavy with concern. The gang meeting had ended hours ago, but Kazutora lingered, reluctant to face the chaos of his home life.

Kazutora sighed deeply, his voice tinged with exhaustion. "I just don't want to go home, Y/n. I can't deal with my family right now."

Y/n's eyes softened with empathy as she moved closer, her hand gently touching his arm. "I get it, Kazutora. I know." She paused, a thoughtful look crossing her face as an idea formed. "Why don't you stay with me tonight? My parents are out of the city for the next three days, and I'm all alone."

Kazutora's eyes widened slightly, a mix of surprise and gratitude washing over him. "Are you sure? I don't want to impose."

"Of course, I'm sure!" Y/n grinned, playfully nudging him with her shoulder. "Come on, it'll be fun. We can have a mini sleepover."

Kazutora chuckled, the tension in his shoulders easing a bit. "Alright, if you insist."

The walk to Y/n's house was filled with light banter, the weight of Kazutora's troubles momentarily lifting. As they stepped inside, Y/n's excitement was palpable. She dashed to the kitchen, grabbing an assortment of snacks before leading Kazutora to her room.

"Make yourself comfortable," she said, spreading the snacks out on her bed and turning on the TV. "I've got all the good shows lined up."

Kazutora couldn't help but smile at her enthusiasm. "You're really going all out, huh?"

"Absolutely," Y/n replied, plopping down beside him and popping open a bag of chips. "Oh, and I got you some PJs from my dad's closet. They should fit you."

Kazutora took the offered pajamas with a grateful nod. "Thanks, Y/n. You're the best."

Y/n beamed. "I know," she teased, sticking her tongue out playfully. "Now, let's get comfy and enjoy the night."

After changing into the pajamas, Kazutora joined Y/n on the bed, feeling more relaxed than he had in a long time. They watched TV, laughing at the absurdity of the show they had picked. Y/n's lighthearted commentary had Kazutora in stitches, his laughter filling the room.

"I can't believe you find this so funny," Kazutora said between chuckles. "You're ridiculous."

"It's called having a good sense of humor," Y/n retorted

As the night went on, Y/n pulled out her skincare routine, explaining each step with an endearing seriousness. Kazutora listened intently, his heart swelling at her genuine care and attention.

"First, we cleanse," she said, holding up a bottle of face wash. "You gotta get rid of all the dirt and grime from the day."

Kazutora followed her lead, mimicking her movements. "You really know your stuff, huh?"

"Of course! Skincare is important," Y/n replied with a wink. "Next, we tone. This helps to balance your skin's pH."

Kazutora nodded, fascinated by her dedication. "You're really something else, Y/n."

She grinned, a hint of a blush coloring her cheeks. "I just want you to feel good, Kazutora."

By the time they finished, Kazutora felt a strange mix of calm and elation. Turning off the TV, Y/n flopped back onto the bed, a content sigh escaping her lips. Kazutora joined her, and they started gossiping about random things, their laughter filling the room once more.

As they chatted, they involuntarily edged closer, the space between them shrinking. At one point, Kazutora's gaze lingered on Y/n's lips, a thought forming in his mind.

"Y/n," he began hesitantly, his voice soft. "Can I ask you something?"

Y/n turned to him, curiosity shining in her eyes. "What's up?"

Kazutora took a deep breath, his heart pounding. "Can I kiss you?"

A surprised look crossed Y/n's face, followed by a shy smile. "Yeah, you can."

He leaned in slowly, their lips meeting in a gentle, tentative kiss. The simplicity of it made Y/n's heart flutter. What started as a sweet kiss quickly deepened, the intensity growing between them. Kazutora's hand cupped Y/n's cheek, his touch sending shivers down her spine.

As their kisses grew more fervent, they found themselves entangled, bodies pressing closer together. Kazutora's breath hitched as Y/n's hand roamed over his chest, her touch igniting a fire within him.

"Y/n," he murmured against her lips, his voice thick with desire. "You're driving me crazy."

Y/n responded by pressing her body against his, her hands sliding down to his waistband. She began to rub him through his clothes, feeling him grow harder under her touch. Kazutora groaned, his hips bucking involuntarily.

"Fuck, Y/n," he gasped, his voice raw with need. "You feel so good."

Emboldened by his reaction, Y/n slipped her hand into his pants, wrapping her fingers around his throbbing length. She started to stroke him, her movements slow and deliberate, feeling him twitch in her grasp. Kazutora's breaths came in ragged gasps, his eyes fluttering shut. Without a word, Y/n lowered her head, taking him into her mouth. The sensation was overwhelming, and Kazutora's hands tangled in her hair as she worked him with her lips and tongue. The heat of her mouth and the expert movements of her tongue drove him wild. His climax hit him hard, a low, guttural groan escaping his lips as he released into her mouth.

As he came down from his high, Kazutora pulled Y/n up into his arms, kissing her deeply, tasting himself on her lips. "You have no idea what you do to me," he whispered, his voice filled with awe and lingering desire.

Y/n smiled, snuggling into his embrace. "I think I have some idea," she replied, her voice soft and affectionate.

[timeclipsed]

*whistles inconspiciously*

[incandescentflower]

I'm seeing the whole "If you don't like something stay out of the fandom tags" commentary again. Honestly, it bugs me quite a bit. I would say that I try to not piss in people's cheerios often. I try to not just complain for the sake of yelling about something. I do believe everyone should get to enjoy what they enjoy whether I like it or not.

but I also think people who like a certain kind of story and watch things with the hope they will get what they like, and then are disappointed, also deserve community.

I think the opinion that all people are doing this to troll or because they enjoy complaining is a bad take, at least in the fandoms I'm in. When I get that stubborn about a show it's because I genuinely loved something about it and I now have passionate opinions about it. If I didn't care, I would not be posting about it. I would just forget it.

And yes, there are different levels of critique that are productive and others that are not. But having people be like - have your feelings but keep it to yourself or only your dash where others may or may not have the same feelings - maybe are harmless when you are annoyed that an adult show has all the plot points of a high school story, but are concerning when the post is talking about the pair the spare where there is no recognition that they had painted the antagonist as an assaulter and are now rehabilitating him with no effort at all. When you start dictating what is acceptable and unacceptable fandom opinions, you start walking the line of censoring voices that should be boosted.

In my opinion, fandom is at its best when you are hearing other points of view and gaining more understanding of media by listening to other voices. It's another part of the transformative nature of fandom.

And It's so easy here to block people or filter people and tags if it's really something you don't want to see. The expectation yet again that someone else should be responsible for your experience is beyond my brain capacity.

I do know how hard it is to see a huge fandom reaction that doesn't align with yours -I have experienced it both in loving something and hating something. But that is why we all need to find our community and well, on tumblr, it's in the tags.

[mechahero]

"Oh."

[atreyucannamos]

XII: The Hermit, Reversed

5003u / 7576 SR THIRTEEN YEARS AGO CANNAMOS FAMILY ESTATE, CANNAMOS PRADESH, KHAYRADIN

With a cry of triumph, the girl thrust her rapier towards the sky. "Another foe lies vanquished, thanks to... the fearless Lady Ironhand!"

Her shorter companion twirled his revolver between his fingers before blowing the smoke from its tip. "And El-Ahrairah!"

The girl held out her blade. "Prince of a Thousand Kingdoms!"

The boy held out his gun. "Heir to the Granite Dominion!"

Their weapons met with a resounding clang. "WE ARE THE PEERLESS PAIR!"

Delighted laughter filled the clearing as the two celebrated their victory. The towering stone monolith that had served as Harrison the First's Saladin offered no commentary, having been thoroughly bested by Lady Ironhand's sword hand. But even she would've been laid low had it not been for El-Ahrairah's unmatched marksmanship, shooting the devil in the eye through his cockpit glass.

The satisfaction of having soundly defeated Fearkiller and changed history so that Karrakis won the Interest War faded quickly, however, and the two children set off back into the woods in search of new worlds to conquer.

"Praya," began El-Ahrairah, going quiet as they were forced to clamber over a particularly gnarled root.

There was no answer.

"Praya?"

Atreyu looked up. Cloak billowing in the wind, she had already walked far ahead - so far that the boy could barely see her.

Soundtrack: Guild of Ambience - Forest Sounds

He began to run, sprinting as hard as his legs would carry him - but no matter how fast he ran, he didn't seem to be getting any closer, though Praya seemed to walk at her normal pace.

He cried out. "Praya!" The desperate yell seemed to echo oddly through the trees. "Praya, wait! Wait for me!"

She did not slow, nor did she turn; she did not give any indication that she'd even heard her cousin's plea.

The woods seemed to press in on Atreyu. The canopy no longer provided welcome shade from the Khayradi sun; instead, it cast everything in mottled shadow. The ground was uneven; roots and stones conspired against the boy, and with every step he took, he could feel the crushing weight of Khayradin's gravity threatening to dash his frail body against the unyielding soil. Even the birds seemed discordant in their song, each note carrying an alien sharpness that set the youngster's nerves jangling.

Praya slipped further away with every step, though her stride never quickened, yet no matter how far she seemed to be ahead of Atreyu, he never quite lost sight of her. That was the worst part. The woods closed in even further, until it felt like they were hurtling down an endless corridor of dark, gnarled trees. Finally, the girl vanished entirely, slipping sideways down an avenue Atreyu hadn't seen.

He tore around the corner onto St. Cassander's Balcony. Praya's silhouette stood at the balustrade, looking out at the starless night over Throne Karakiz.

Soundtrack: Aphex Twin - Tree

"Praya," Atreyu whimpered.

The shadow of his cousin replied only with silence.

"Praya," he repeated, stepping forward. "What will you do when you're Stonelord?"

Finally, Praya answered, though she did not turn. Her voice sounded odd - deeper, and colder. "Why do you ask?"

"Well, I was thinking," the boy explained, reaching up to shoo something away from his shoulder - but finding nothing. "Uncle Hyderad is always talking about your 'responsibilities.' About all the things you have to do when you're grown up and he's Prime Baron and you take his place. But he doesn't always care about his 'responsibilities!' Sometimes he just does what he wants. What will you do when you can do what you want?"

Praya spoke again. "I'll lead the liberation of the Luna Furtiva, and finally put an end to the tyranny of the Ungratefuls."

Atreyu cast a glance to the sky, to that-which-was-stolen. Though was that not Arrudye he looked upon? Surely not...

"By the time I'm done with that," Praya continued, "I'm sure father will have convinced the cowards on the Baronic Council to throw off the Headless Ones and reclaim the stolen worlds of the-"

"No," Atreyu spat. "I didn't ask what uncle wanted." The words seemed off somehow, as if he should've said something different.

The silhouette turned her head just the slightest degree. "What's got you so worked up, Atreyu?"

"Uncle says that when I'm grown..." Atreyu struggled to remember what it was that uncle had said. "Uncle says there's a seat set aside for me in Upper Laurent."

"And you don't want to go," Praya deduced.

Atreyu shook his head. "No. I want to stay here. Even if it means I don't get to be a Lord."

The silhouette turned. Her lips parted, and she spoke through gritted teeth. "Well then, I'll see to it that you shan't go anywhere. We'll find a job for you right here."

It should've filled Atreyu with relief, but when he looked, he saw Praya not as the child he knew, but older, full-grown - and twisted. All the kindness and joy had drained from her face. She gazed down at him with cold eyes that radiated contempt.

"And nobody will argue with me, for I am Stonelord."

5016u NOW

Atreyu awoke in a cold sweat, gasping for breath.

[kybercrystals94]

Neon Warfare

Read here on Ao3!

Summer of Bad Batch 2024 | Week 1 | Main Prompt: Water Gun Fight | Alt. Prompt: "It's not what it looks like."

Rated: G | Words: 3109 | Summary: Wrecker buys two little water guns. What's the worst that could happen?

“Hey, look at this?” 

“How much do you think something like that costs?” 

“They call that art? I’ve blown up things that ended up looking nicer than that!” 

“If we could get one of those, would you want red or blue? I know red is part of our colors, but blue is nice.”

Crosshair tries to ignore Wrecker’s incessant commentary as they cut through a district of novelty shops. Keeping Wrecker on task during slow paced missions is like herding wild tookas: impossible and incredibly annoying. 

“We’re not here to sightsee,” Crosshair finally snaps. “Are you even watching for our contact?” 

“I thought you were watching,” Wrecker says, “I’m just backup.” 

Crosshair rolls his eyes. “So help me…” 

Wrecker gasps, and Crosshair turns to see what has distracted his brother now. Small, neon colored, plastic pistols. “What are these?” Wrecker asks the shopkeep. 

“Water guns,” the man says. 

“What do they do?” Wrecker asks before Crosshair can haul him away. 

The man looks unimpressed with the question. “Shoot water.” 

“They’re so tiny,” Wrecker croons. “You just fill ‘em with water? Simple as that?” 

“Simple as that.” 

“Wrecker, come on,” Crosshair growls. 

“They’re on sale, two for a credit,” the man says. 

“Sold!” Wrecker whips a credit out of nowhere, drops it in the vendor’s waiting hand, and snatches up a green and a pink pistol from the basket. 

It takes every shred of patience for Crosshair to keep his mouth shut until they move away from the cart. “Put your toys away, we’re busy,” he hisses. 

“We’re always busy,” Wrecker says, ignoring him as he fiddles with the tiny orange stopper at the top of the pink pistol. Once he dislodges it, he hands the green pistol to Crosshair. “Hold this.” 

“I’m not holding your toys!” Crosshair cries, taking the pistol anyway. 

Wrecker gets out his canteen and tries to delicately dribble a stream of water into the hole at the top of the gun. Most of the water ends up in a puddle on the ground. 

“I’m not sharing my canteen with you when you’re thirsty later,” Crosshair mutters. 

Wrecker either doesn’t hear him or doesn’t care. “There!” he says, triumphantly, poking the stopper back into place. Before Crosshair can react, Wrecker points the gun at Crosshair and pulls the trigger. A spurt of water splatters harmlessly across Crosshair’s visor. 

He’s annoyed nonetheless. “Ugh! Grow up, Wrecker!” 

“Here,” Wrecker says, unperturbed, reaching for the green pistol, “let’s fill yours up.” 

“It’s not mine!” Crosshair says, thrusting it into Wrecker’s hand. 

“Sure it is! I bought it for you.” 

“I don’t want it.” 

Wrecker’s shoulders slump. “Aw, c’mon, Cross. You’re no fun.”

“We’re not here to have fun. We’re here on a mission. Now, put your kriffing toys away.” 

Crosshair starts walking, and hears Wrecker start trundling along behind him. And then he feels it. Something wet on the back of his neck.

“Ha! That was a good shot!”

Crosshair sighs. This is going to be a long patrol. 

*

Surprisingly, Wrecker seems to lose interest in the water guns the moment they come within sight of the Marauder. He shoves them in one of his pockets and goes about his chores without a word about his newfound toys that he’d been harassing Crosshair with nonstop. 

Crosshair isn’t complaining. Maybe the stupid water guns will be forgotten, lost in a crate somewhere…or found by a certain sniper and shot out the airlock while in deep space. 

However, Crosshair’s hopes are dashed when he opens his firepuncher case the next cycle and finds that someone has put a neon green water gun inside. A torn piece of flimsi is folded beside it. Crosshair picks it up and opens it. Got plan. Practice. Secret. - W. 

Shaking his head, Crosshair picks up the tiny pistol. He can tell by the subtle weight that Wrecker has already filled it with water. With a scoff, he aims idly at a bolt in the wall and shoots. The spurt of water misses by at least nine centimeters to the left. Crosshair’s jaw drops. He missed? He adjusts the pistol in his hand. Shoots. Five centimeters too low. 

Crosshair swears under his breath. 

Squirt, squirt, squirt, squirt…

Miss, miss, miss, miss…

He’s about to throw the water gun across the ship when a rumbling voice says behind him. “Harder than it looks, huh?” 

Wrecker’s pink water gun appears in his hand, comically miniscule in his massive fingers. He aims for the exact bolt Crosshair was aiming for. 

Direct hit. 

Crosshair actually chokes on his gasp of shock. He’s coughing so hard that Hunter comes back to check on them, Wrecker slapping Crosshair on the back as if that’s gonna do anything to help.

“Everything alright?” Hunter asks. 

Wrecker grins. “Yeah, he’s just fine, sarge.”

Hunter quirks an eyebrow at Crosshair, and Crosshair can only nod. With one last bewildered look, Hunter retreats back to the cockpit. 

“That’s why you gotta practice,” Wrecker says loftily. “Otherwise, I’ll just be a better shot than you with a water gun.” 

Crosshair glares at his largest brother, seeing the shameless goading for exactly what it is. And yet, he will not be outdone by Wrecker, not even with a stupid little toy water gun. “Oh, you’re on.” 

*

Echo is tracking their flight plan when he hears Wrecker start sniffling behind him. He ignores it. 

“Sure is dusty in here,” Wrecker comments offhandedly. 

“Whatever you say,” Echo mumbles. 

More sniffling. “My nose sure feels funny. It’s like a sneeze is stuck in there.” 

Echo grunts in vague sympathy. 

Then comes the shuddering breath of an attempted sneeze, loud and exaggerated…and prolonged. 

“For force sake, Wrecker, if you’re gonna sneeze, sneeze!” 

“ACHOO!” 

Wet droplets shower the back of Echo’s neck. His reaction is immediate. “Wrecker! Did you just sneeze on me?” Echo squawks, standing and whirling on the giant. 

Wrecker doesn’t look the least bit ashamed. In fact, he looks alarmed and frantic as he tries to shove something bright neon pink in his pocket. Echo is faster when he’s annoyed or angry, and it pays off now. He snatches the mystery item out of Wrecker’s hand. A tiny, cheap water pistol. 

“You shot me with this and made me think you sneezed on me?” Echo demanded. “That’s disgusting!” 

“It’s called a prank,” Wrecker says, sounding offended by Echo’s evident lack of humor. 

Echo rolls his eyes. “A childish prank.” 

“It’s called fun,” Wrecker says, holding out his hand. “Now give it back. I still need to shoot Hunter and Tech with it.”

“Do you honestly think that’s going to end well?” Echo asks, deadpan. 

Wrecker smiles. “Not sure, but I’m willing to find out.”

Echo hesitates, weighing his options. If he returns the kriffing toy and Wrecker pranks Hunter and Tech with it, Echo risks being called complicit in the crime. 

If he keeps the toy…

“C’mon, Echo,” Wrecker whines, making a grabbing motion with his outstretched hand. “It’s water. It’s not like it’s gonna hurt them.”

The manchild does have a point. 

Echo sighs. “Fine. But so help me, you shoot me again with this thing, I’ll send it out the airlock.” 

Wrecker grins almost apologetically and snatches the toy up the moment it’s placed in his hand. “Ah, it was a good prank. You can’t actually be mad.” 

He’s not, but Echo narrows his gaze anyway. “You wanna bet credits on that?” 

“Fine! I won’t shoot you with water again,” Wrecker grumbles, folding his arms, hiding the water gun from view. Echo shakes his head and turns back to finish his calculations. He chooses not to react when Wrecker mutters, “Killjoy.”

*

Hunter is on the very cusp of sleep on one of the bunks when something hits the side of his face. Something cool and wet. He jerks awake with a gasp, hand flying up to touch where the attack occurred. His glove comes away damp. Turning, he sees Crosshair, polishing his rifle. 

“What was that?” Hunter demands. 

Crosshair looks up. “What?” 

“Someone splashed me with water,” Hunter says. 

“Someone splashed you with water,” Crosshair echoes. He rolls his eyes. “Sure they did.” 

Hunter glares at him. “You did it.” 

“How?” Crosshair asks. 

“Easy. You threw water at me.” 

“Where did I get this water?”

“Your canteen.” 

“Does it look like I have a canteen on me?” Crosshair asks, glancing around himself pointedly. “Maybe you’re just imagining things.” 

“My glove is literally damp!” 

“Maybe it’s sweat. Between that mop you call hair and that bandana, you must be roasting alive.” 

“I’m not sweating!” 

Crosshair shrugs, returning to his task. “Whatever you say.” 

Hunter watches him a few more moments before he closes his eyes, keeping his head turned toward his brother, and tries to resume his nap. 

Another water strike, square in the middle of his forehead. Hunter’s eyes fly open, and Crosshair is still there, not looking at him, polishing his rifle with the same leisurely ease as before. 

“You did it again!” Hunter cries, sitting up. 

Crosshair meets his gaze. “What are you on about? I didn’t do anything!” 

“Yes you did! You’re the only one in here! There’s no other explanation!” 

“How the kriff did I do it then? Explain it to me!” 

Hunter grits his teeth. He can’t explain it. But he knows it’s true. “You’re the one doing it, so you tell me!” 

“I’m not doing anything! I’m cleaning my rifle. Maker!” 

Hunter stands up. “You know you’re the worst sometimes?” 

“So I’ve been told,” Crosshair muses, going back to his task.

Hunter starts to storm to the cockpit when something hits the back of his head. He whirls around and Crosshair is still at work, an almost imperceptible smirk twitching at the edge of his lips. Hunter growls a curse under his breath before making his retreat. 

*

“What are you doing?” 

Wrecker and Crosshair startle and look up to find Tech standing over them. The casings of two water guns are on the floor between them, taken apart, amongst a plethora of spare parts from Tech’s stash for his projects. A stash he has very deliberately told his brothers not to touch without express permission. 

And neither of the clones in front of him had any such consent.  

“It’s not what you think,” Wrecker says. He has the decency to sound guilty.

Tech frowns. “What I think is that you are modifying toy pistols using my personal collection of parts.” 

Crosshair shrugs. “Then it’s exactly what you think.” 

“Put the parts back immediately! They are meant for serious projects, not hobbies.”

“Ah, c’mon, Tech,” Wrecker complains, “this isn’t just a hobby. It’s for science.” 

“How so?” Tech asks, unimpressed. 

Crosshair holds up a data pad with crudely designed schematics. “We’re going to increase the weapons’ accuracy by approximately one hundred and five percent.” 

Tech takes the data pad and examines the modifications. “No you are not.” 

“Why?”

“Because I am not giving permission to use my parts for these modifications. Give them back.” 

“Maker, Tech, don’t be stingy,” Crosshair protests.

“It is not being stingy to say that these parts are for specific purposes. Not a single one of those purposes include water guns. Put them away.” 

“Or what? You’ll tell Hunter on us?” Crosshair snarks. 

Tech glares. “You are being immature.” 

“Fine!” Crosshair says, “We’ll put your precious parts away. We don’t need them.” 

Wrecker frowns. “Yeah, we do.” 

“No, we don’t,” Crosshair says. He scoops up the spare parts and dumps them back in their box. He hands the box over to Tech, now a jumbled mess to be sorted. 

“You are behaving like a juvenile,” Tech says irritably. 

Crosshair smiles, but there is no friendliness in the gesture. “Oh, you haven’t seen juvenile yet.” 

“Is that a threat?” Tech asks. 

“Of course not,” Crosshair says, lifting one shoulder in a shrug. “Just something to think about.” 

*

Tech calls a meeting between himself, Echo, and Hunter, closing the cockpit door while Crosshair and Wrecker are distracted with cataloging inventory. At least, that is what they said they were doing when they disappeared into the upper hold. 

“Something has to be done about Wrecker and Crosshair,” Tech says. 

“What do you mean?” Hunter asks. 

“Are you talking about their stupid little water pistols?” Echo asks, rolling his eyes. 

Hunter’s jaw drops. “That’s how Crosshair got me!” 

“And Wrecker got me,” Echo says. 

“I caught them trying to modify them to have better accuracy,” Tech says. “I stopped their attempt, but it is only a matter of time before they find alternate means.” 

“I told Wrecker if he shoots me with water again, I’ll send his water gun out the airlock,” Echo says with a shrug. “I say we follow through.” 

Hunter shakes his head. “No. We should fight fire with fire.” 

“Water with water, as it were,” Tech chuckles. 

“Please no,” Echo entreats. “Let’s end this before it gets out of hand.” 

“I’ve been doing some research,” Tech says, bringing out his data pad. “I believe I have found the perfect solution.” 

****

“We have four standard hours of shore leave,” Hunter says, “That means you’re all back to the ship in three and a half. Got it?” 

“Yes, sir,” Crosshair snarks with a lazy salute. He and Wrecker saunter off, leaving Hunter, Echo and Tech without a backwards glance. 

Once they are out of earshot, Hunter turns to Tech. “You got those coordinates?” 

“Affirmative,” Tech says, pulling up the directions on his data pad. 

“Are we really going to spend hard earned credits on water guns?” Echo asks.

Tech frowns. “These are not simply water guns, Echo. They are classified as super soakers.” 

“Cross and Wrecker won’t know what hit them,” Hunter murmurs almost gleefully. 

“Do you even hear yourselves right now?” Echo cries. 

Hunter ignores him. “We need to head out. We have to be back here and in position before the targets return.” 

Echo rolls his eyes, but follows Tech and Hunter anyway. 

*

They turn more than a few heads when they walk into the toy store; however, Crosshair ignores the incredulous stares of the other patrons. He walks straight to the counter, Wrecker at his shoulder. “We had an order for pickup,” he says.

“Sure, what’s the name?” the clerk asks. 

“Crosshair.” 

The clerk disappears into the back room and returns with two packages. “Two special order water guns?” 

The burning sensation of embarrassment creeps up the back of Crosshair’s neck. “Yes,” he says. 

“Aw, yeah! I can’t wait to try ‘em out,” Wrecker crows. 

“Can you be quieter,” Crosshair hisses at him. 

The clerk rings up the order and accepts the payment before relinquishing the packages to the soldiers, fully armored sans helmets. Wrecker takes them both eagerly, tucking them under one arm. They leave the shop and nearly collide with three more armored figures about to walk in. 

“What are you doing here?” Hunter demands. 

“Nothing!” Wrecker cries, sounding panicked, shoving the packages behind his back. 

“We could ask you the same thing,” Crosshair counters. 

Hunter crosses his arms. “We were following you.”

“Why?” 

“We’re suspicious.” 

“Of what?” 

“Of what you’d be getting from a toy store.” 

“How did you know we were coming to a toy store?” 

Hunter doesn’t have a comeback for that, and changes the subject. “What did you get?” 

“Nothing,” Wrecker reiterates guiltily, “It’s a surprise.” 

Tech adjusts his goggles. “Which is it? Nothing or a surprise?” 

“How about,” Crosshair says, stepping in front of Wrecker, “none of your business.”

“This is ridiculous,” Echo grumbles.

Crosshair reaches back and grabs Wrecker’s arm. “C’mon. We’re leaving.” Dragging Wrecker behind him, he shoves through the suspicious trio. 

“See you lot back at the ship,” Hunter calls after them. 

“Not if we see you first!” Wrecker hollers back. 

“Shut up!” Crosshair growls. “This is bad enough as it is.” 

*

They watch until the suspicious duo disappear into the crowd. 

“Those packages were definitely within the dimensions of super soakers,” Tech says. 

Hunter nods. “We should have known they’d do something like this.”

“We’re doing something like this!” Echo exclaims. “I never asked to be part of this. I’m never going to be dry again!” 

“Stop whining, Echo,” Hunter says, opening the door of the shop. “It’s three versus two. We’ve got the advantage. They might have started this, but we’re going to end it.” 

*

When they return the Marauder, the ramp is down, but it is quiet. Too quiet. Hunter holds up a fist, and Echo and Tech immediately stop short. Hunter’s eyes rove over the ship’s exterior. 

“Are we within range?” he asks Tech, a whisper over his shoulder. 

“If Crosshair is positioned on top of the ship, affirmative. He will have gravity on his side.” 

Echo groans. “Need I remind you all that we are in public?”

“We split up,” Hunter says, voice low, gripping his colorful weapon and holding it in ready position. “Circle the ship.” 

Echo sighs and takes the left side while Tech goes right. Hunter bravely takes center. He barely makes it four steps forward before he is hit in the face with a stream of water. 

And that’s when all hell breaks loose. 

*

No one says anything until the Marauder is settled in a hyperspace lane. The only sound is the hum of the ship and the faint sound of water dripping off five drenched commandos. 

Until… 

“They had no right to confiscate our weapons!” Wrecker grouses. 

Echo huffs. “It was that or the city putting in an official complaint with the GAR.” 

“I find it a little extreme to be prohibited from an entire planet. No one was injured,” Tech says. 

“Crosshair shot a child point blank with a super soaker and made them cry,” Echo points out. 

Crosshair chuckles darkly. “In my defense, I thought it was Hunter. They were similar heights.” 

Hunter scoffs. “You are such a liar.”

“Wait, who was it that then shot an officer sent to investigate the disturbance?” Crosshair asks, tapping his chin thoughtfully. “Oh, yes. It was Hunter. That’s what got us in real trouble.”

“Now wait a minute,” Hunter starts indignantly. 

Echo stands up. “I just want to go on the record and say I didn’t want to be involved in any of this!”

“This is true,” Tech agrees, “Although you are the one who soaked the second officer.”

“That was an accident.”

“That’s not how the officer saw it.” 

As the bickering escalates, Crosshair catches Wrecker’s eye and holds out his hand, mostly fisted, but open enough that the demolitions expert sees a glimpse of pink and green. He grins, looking back at Crosshair. Crosshair puts a finger to his lips. Wrecker nods. 

The war is far from over. 

END

Finally got my first prompt fill done for my own prompt event 😂 It's been an absolute joy and delight to see all the fills so far! I dedicate this story to @just-here-with-my-thoughts' kiddo 😉 A lot of work went into getting this prompt in the top 13 🤣

12 more weeks of Summer of Bad Batch!! Can't wait!!

✨Let me know if you'd like to be added to my tag list!✨

Tag List: @followthepurrgil @amorfista @mooncommlink @arctrooper69 @nagyanna424 @proteatook @ezras-left-thumb @maeashryver

[redphlox]

No matter how bnha ends, I'm grateful that I became invested because it brought me joy, and it gifted me the euphoric experience of getting to know one of my favorite characters ever: Touya Todoroki, Dabi. I will always love him, and he will always have a special place in my heart. Nothing can change that or take that away from me. Shouto, too. The soba brothers are eternal to me.

It's so typical of me to be drawn to the mysterious, cold, brooding characters, haha. Shouto and Dabi immediately captured my attention when I first watched/read bnha with @fox-conscious. I took a break from following the series for a few years until November 2020, when I casually logged into Tumblr after months of not checking and saw chapter 290 Dabi's Dance leaks. It must have been fate. Suddenly, I was fully immersed in the manga again, excited that the obvious familial connection between my two favorites was officially confirmed. This reveal reignited my excitement and gave me something to focus on and look forward to during a challenging first semester in grad school, when I was on the cusp of realizing I needed professional help for my eating disorder.

To deal with the stress and have fun, I turned to reading and writing meta, and trying to make friends to share the experience with. That's the most important thing that has come from following this series... I've met so many incredible people who mean a lot to me:

@haleigh-sloth has become a really dear and close friend of mine. We met because of this manga and bonded over crepes, breakfast foods, pasta or ramen dinners, shopping at the mall, swimming in the river, walking her dogs, sleepovers, traveling, and road trips because of our shared love of the characters and story. We are basically the same person and constantly say the same things at the same time. Through the ups and downs of school, work, moving, and even now, we've always had each other's backs and shared countless moments of laughter and ugly cackling because we can't take shit seriously, ever. She's one of my best friends for life and I can't imagine NOT having her around!

@todomitoukei was one of the first friends I made in this fandom. I can always count on her to make the funniest jokes I've ever heard, especially during a completely serious conversation, and I'm astounded how smart, quick-witted, and talented she is. Truly an inspiration. I always look forward to seeing notifications that she messaged me because she brightens my day <3

I've had the great pleasure of meeting and hugging @hamliet TWICE! She has a generous heart and an inviting, calm aura. Her kindness and intelligence are remarkable. I genuinely enjoy discussing all sorts of topics with her, both silly and serious: life, hopes and dreams, fears and daily struggles, funny memes, reading and writing. I also love seeing her pet photos and can't wait to meet them in the future.

@transhawks is truly my most insane friend, and I say that lovingly and in the most ironic way because he's level-headed, creative, articulate, and self-aware. I'm always learning from him. I can talk to him for hours and never run out of things to say, and I always look forward to his insightful commentary about anything and everything.

And of course, I'm grateful for all the discord shenanigans with my friends: watching the anime together, voice calls, memes, sharing ideas, etc. @chocolate-biscuit who always pops into the chat with funny one-liners that leave me cackling for days when they flash in my head randomly, @bootlickerhawks who is the bestest horse person ever and I get excited to see on my dash, @helga-grinduil who is the saltiest and funniest person on this hellsite and also happens to make the best bnhaedits in this entire fandom, @jecook who is one of the sweetest people I've ever met and can't wait to read fix-it fics from, @mettywiththenotes who sends cute dog pictures and makes the most hilarious memes. Together we are all unhinged, and I love it. Despite living in different time zones, different counties, we've all create a fun space to cohabitate, and I think that's really cool and beautiful.

Hmm. Looks like the real treasure was the friends I made along the way, and the shared trauma of having our favorite characters mishandled by their creator was worth it. Can't wait to keep writing fics, making memes, and making new friends like @shortstrawberryshake because of this manga. And, I can't wait to keep loving Touya and Shouto Todoroki, of course <3

[deeplyshalllow]

hi! your wicked essays/commentary is phenomenal. i was thinking about fiyero and after a number of scenes coming up on my dash i had a sudden theory for why fiyero's character might be the way he is too: can fiyero actually, literally charm people into his bidding by looking directly in their eyes?

reasons being:

his first meeting with elphaba- he tries to banter playfully to offset her defensiveness but it doesnt work, then he tries the smolder and is genuinely lost as to why that doesn't seem to win her over.

walking into school- what he asks for he is given and people look into his face and are smitten.

dancing through life song/scene- when he looks into glinda's eyes and says 'follow me' to everyone, and they do. looking into the librarians eyes and singing/telling her his views.

he also looks directly into the characters' eyes without blinking, an old hypnotism and brainwashing technique/element.

so maybe elphaba's magic doesn't work on him (poppy's) and his doesn't work on her (being charmed and obedient/following his lead).

his illusion is a real and true illusion of being 'genuinely self absorbed and deeply shallow', and it's never questioned or even imagined. the victims are so deeply in his thrall that his mask cannot be seen or broken through, until elphaba, who is unbothered by it and doesn't seem to even notice it. he tries again and again his standard ways of looking into her eyes and even telling her what to do ("you don't have to do that", waving in the library) but she always has her own mind present and is unswayed.

something something narrative mirrors, soulmates who recognize each other and are inspired by each other. gelphie is beautiful in its own way, but glinda seems more to bring into elphaba's life self-acceptance and comfort (being worthy of love, having inherent value and being someone worth standing up for). fiyero challenges her perceptions of the world, confront her demons, and seems to inspire her, even if it frightens her and is against how she views herself ("i'm not that girl). i'm crying all these babies deserve all the love TT_TT

what do you think?

Hey :)

I love the theory! @enigma731 did a piece on it too here which is well worth a read if you haven't done so already.

I think it's definitely plausible. We get a lot of small magic and differences in Oz for our world and this would be a fun one to include - especially as Jonathan Bailey has said that there's gonna be some relevance to him wearing blue contacts for Fiyero.

Saying that, I also think it works with Fiyero not having power more than good looks and the right background. A lot of what we learn about Oz is that it's very shallow, it judges Elphaba almost entirely on her green skin (and those who don't judge her on her talent for magic and how they can abuse it) and Fiyero, likewise, is judged on his goodlooks and position - and it's led to both of them keeping a lot of the good traits about themselves hidden, given all they are judged on are accidents of birth. So it is beautiful when they do both find each other and see through "different eyes" each other's inner beauty - that's what the "it's not lying it's looking at things another way," line is about when they discuss each other's beauty - because these two are the most strong and beautiful characters in the narrative in terms of their goodness (Glinda is getting there by the end but she's got a lot of penance to make for some of the terrible choices she makes earlier in the narrative.)

In a way I don't know if it matters so much if Fiyero has magic powers or just is good looking enough for Oz to treat him nicely. What matters is that it means that he's not seen for his true self (even by himself I think) until he comes across Elphaba