#let’s be real no one gives a fuck about our side of the spectrum except the people who are in it

[alexandraisyes]

Bffr rn. U really think reblogging is going to do anything. Ain't u the one who liked a confession about nonshippers being more toxic than us shippers? Ain't u the one who's annoyed that aroace fuckwads are mad that we're shipping moon with someone? Ain't u the one fighting for SolarMoon? Are u on our side or not? Make up ur damn fucking mind. Like we said these celestial-family fucktards and aroace fuckwads had what's coming to them. U're either with us or u're another apologist of these fucktards and fuckwads. If it's the latter then stay away from SolarMoon and EclipseEarth. We don't need no apologist defending those fucktards and fuckwads who started the hate for our ships

What a sad sack of shit you are! I'm getting a really good laugh out of your reaction. Much appreciated after the shit show of a day I had yesterday. So let's break this down, and maybe it'll be cleaner than the breakdown you are clearly having. But first, let me fix your grammar.

Be for fucking real right now. Do you really think that reblogging is going to do anything? Are you not the one who liked a confession about how nonshippers are more toxic than us shippers? Are you not the one who is annoyed that aroace individuals are mad that we are shipping Nexus with someone? Are you not the one fighting for SolarMoon? Are you on our side or not? Make up your mind, please. We've already told you about how the people who enjoy the canon dynamics of the show and aroace individuals are getting what is due to them based on our biased and immature opinions on how if they don't agree with us they're wrong. You are either with us or you are against us. If it's the latter then stay away from SolarMoon and ShadowPlanet. We don't need someone who doesn't agree with our perverted and revolting actions towards other people defending the minority group who disagrees with us.

I may have also laid your intentions clear as well. Whoops, now the whole world can see what you actually meant.

I don't think that reblogging has any power when it comes to making you realize you need to stop, but it will make more people aware of your hideous actions and be more ready to prepare for the harassment that I am getting.

Way to be a real stalker, going through posts to see who liked what and writing them all down. Everyone loves a prepubescent teen who is obsessed with them! It's very attractive, don't you know? (Obviously, this is blatant sarcasm, but I can't be too sure you would pick up on that so I have to call it out.) However, it's true, I did like a single person's perspective about how sometimes from the side of the shippers it can feel like the non-shippers are overly hostile. That doesn't mean I agree that it's all the time, and I have the media literacy (which you seem to lack) about how that post was targeted specifically to the non-shippers who, gasp, are toxic, and not to all of the non-shippers.

And wow it's almost like it has nothing to do with whether they ship or don't and more to do with them being a toxic person in general, kind of like you! But I digress.

"Aren't you the one annoyed with the aroace-" blah blah blah

Oh, honey. I'm a sociopath. I don't give a fuck what other people are doing as long as it's not harmful. Every now and then I may comment about how I don't understand how people have gotten this idea that Old Moon was canonically repulsed since we have no proof of that, and Old Moon himself said he didn't know where he was on the aroace spectrum because SURPRISE! Old Moon was aroace.

But obviously, you've forgotten that.

I'm actually not fighting for anything, believe it or not, except for people like you to get off the internet. My friends all know that I do not ship SolarMoon, but I support my friends because it's their interest and I agree with them having an interest that's harmless, unlike you. I think that everyone has a right to ship and not to ship whatever they want, since it's all personal preference, and I don't get butthurt when someone doesn't ship something I like. You should give it a try, honestly.

"Are you on our side?" I am on my side. And on my side, we don't worry about what people do and don't ship. On my side, we don't harass people over a YouTube channel. On my side, we pay bills, because we're adults, and we don't have time to give a fuck about what other people are doing. On my side, we celebrate the canon family dynamics of the show while also having AUs where the dynamics don't exist and we can ship the characters as we please, since my side understands that this is a YouTube channel about fictional robots and that it's not that deep.

I will not and will never associate with someone who thinks it's okay to send unsolicited gore and death threats to minors. Or to anyone really. I think it's cowardly, and it's most definitely below my standards. So no, I'm not on your side.

And don't worry, my mind was made up ages ago when I realized that fandom drama is for people who don't have bills to pay and don't have anything bigger than the box in their hand to worry about.

HOW DARE THEY LIKE THE CANON SHOW!??!?!!? How fucking dare they, you're completely right I take back everything I said because people shouldn't like the canon material!!!1!!!1! How could they like the canon material that makes up the entirety of the canon show!?!?!?!?! How could they enjoy just liking canon?!!?!??!?!?!? WITHOUT SHIPPINGS?!??!?!?!? ILLEGAL!111!1!1!!

You sound like you're 12.

Also, I'm aroace, dumbass. You would have known that had you spent even an ounce of time doing any research into who I am. I have always been aroace. Double also, I like the canon show. Again, you would know that if you've done any research into who I am. I run an entire thread on the official fan server where I talk about the canon family dynamics, and psychology, and Eclipse. He's his own category.

Do you even know what that word means?

Now, I may be out of the loop, but I don't think that not sending gore to minors is controversial. You're an apologist. You are providing an argument in defense of harassment.

And no, I don't think I will stay away from SolarMoon and ShadowPlanet. I've been shipping ShadowPlanet much much longer before it became popular, and I have witnesses to confirm if you need them. As far as SolarMoon? I'm currently writing a SolarMoon (two actually) one-shot where I explore two different dynamics (canon and fanon) in similar settings. One will be posted on my main Ao3 (18+) and the other will be on my side sfw account since it's going to be about their dynamic in canon as found family. Because as a writer I have that power and I do what I want.

And you're just going to have to sit there and cry about it.

Oh and don't worry, I'll even use the main fandom tags so everyone can point and laugh at what a sad little person you are.

[zels-echoes]

Being an aro/ace and having people tell me characters who come off as strongly aro/ace are just being in denial of their feelings makes me want to punch a hole in a wall. That and people saying or implying character can’t possibly be asexual because they’re too hot/sexy for that.

If a character was in denial of their feelings for someone then I think a writer or artist would blatantly convey that for the reader or viewer to pick up on.

I have an aro/ace character of my own who is exactly like that. A character who has strong feelings for one person, but fears too much to be in love with them because she believes too much that they’ll reject her because of who she is and it eats at her constantly. So instead she tries to keep them pushed away because she feels they deserve better. You would see it in her face, you would see it in her behavior and brought up multiple times even if it’s in her own mind. You would KNOW that her heart was aching over it yet refusing to give in to her feelings. That is denial of feelings and still being aro/ace! What a concept!

Not a character clearly displaying no feelings at all if not showing that they’re extremely uncomfortable and outright shutting down any advances towards them, never to be brought up again. That’s an aro/ace genuinely not giving a single fuck.

[searchingforproofsthatimwrong]

THE JAMMIEDODGER VIDEO ABOUT JK ROWLING (as recommended by a very polite anon)

so I go point by point after the cut but in short: they should read more feminist theory, they are lying, they are not as coherent as they think they are but they make some points, notably about the rapid onset gender disphoria that’ll need to check in more depth later on.Most of their sources were unfortunatly either on points I already knew or already agreed with.  Also that woman ( the “cis” one not Jammy), should really stop thinking being born a woman is somehow a privilege.

So the video starts by saying three things I agree with :

1)      Biological sex is definitely real

2)      Women’s right and girls’ right need to be protected

3)      JK Rowling is entitled to like support and write whatever she wants

 So far so good. Except it then goes on to say that TRA agree with that. Now maybe most do but at least some don’t. Don’t lie to me, Jammie Dodger.  

They then go on to misrepresent what our problem with “cis” is. Are they going to spend that entire video about trans people at destination of the non educated on that subject without ONCE defining what a trans person is? They are aren’t they ?

“TRANSPEOPLE AGREE THAT BIOLOGICAL SEX EXISTS!!” 

see earlier but given the number of people who are saying “sex is a social construct” and “sex is a spectrum” and “a neovagina is just like a vagina”, you may at least put a “most” in your statement here. Anyway this is not the problem we have, we wouldn’t even discuss this if it weren’t for the brain dead morons who argue with us about it.

“my biological sex -the one I was assigned at birth- was female” 

is Jammie here telling me he knows biology exists but his sex WAS female ? It still IS female. You’re a female. Moreover you cannot say I know biology exists and I was assigned a sex. The entire “assigned sex” is a refutal of biology by implying doctors choose a sex for you. This is stupid.

Strawman. They are saying radfems have no argument against “gender identity is a real thing”. The lies. Gender identity is not a real thing it’s just gender stereotypes and gender is a tool of oppression for women, it’s sexist garbage. I also notice they don’t define gender identity, this is starting to be a pattern, this video is aimed to normies but the only thing they defined so far is terf.

They did 5 fucking minutes on “transpeople know that biological sex exists” I am already exhausted.

Oh my bad they defined “gender identity” as “the gender you know you are”. THANKS A BUNCH THIS IS SO HELPFUL . Define gender please I beg of you.  

“They know they are a man but their bodies don’t match” 

okay so you agree that man and woman are words that depends on your body right? Since it can “match”, they are not gender then ? Nevermind he then says that man is their gender identity. This is not making sense.

Ooooooh the floating head analogy never heard that one before, this is a stupid one because gendies also argue that their gender is innate (unless Jammie here specifically says he doesn’t think that I’ll act as if he agrees with that statement) so the good question would be if you were born as a floating head and never even had a body would you still be a woman? And my answer here as well as plenty of people I suspect is “men and women don’t make sense if we’re born as floating heads what are you on about?”

“transwomen needs women’s right too” 

I know you think that is self evident but I’ll ask what exactly are the women’s right transwomen need. Abortion? Affordable periods product ? The right to have places free of male? oh wait. They are male so they can never have that can they ?

“so feminism also needs to believe in gender identity”

 because if we don’t our feminism is only for females and we exclude males. Notice how they didn’t continue their logic by saying how THIS feminism excludes transmen and nonbinary? Because it does, but guess who actually need the women’s right of abortion for exemple?

“transmen don’t need women’s rights” 

I FUCKING CANNOT YOU STILL NEED IT WTF ARE YOU ON ABOUT. OK I need them to define women’s right asap

“well JK Rowling said she supports trans rights”

 funny how you can understand how those words are not a proof that she in fact does but you still started your video by “we support women’s rights !!!”

“adding [to Harry Potter] content that was LGBT+ friendly” 

she added things that were gay friendly. I don’t remember her adding trans characters.

“transphobic” = saying men can’t become women. Whoah. The hatred.

“the lack of belief [in gender identity] is what she wants protected”

 yes and ? Atheism, the lack of belief in a god, is protected. Gender identity existence only proof is some people saying it does exists, it is not a scientific reality in any way shape or form.

“His biological sex was previously female” 

BUT WE KNOW WHAT BIOLOGICAL SEX IS WE SWEAR; Damn they spend 7 minutes on “transpeople know biological sex exists” and then keep acting like they fucking don’t.

After that they point blank say that gender identity is more important than sex, having someone who passes as an exemple. What about transpeople who don’t pass? How much you bet this will never be discussed in this video.

Anyway they follow that with that : 

Which is true but defining what a woman is does affect women actually (I know weird right)  so it’s completely irrelevant to the discussion here.

“When a large group of transpeople are telling you something is wrong please listen to them”

 please afford women the same courtesy. We are a large group of women saying males are not the fucking authority on what womanhood is but we are told to shut up. Listen.

“we cannot take the behavior of the minority [online abuse] and group it onto the majority” 

I agree with that statement but the majority still didn’t condemn the abuse. Honestly the people in this video did -just before saying HOWEVER but hey – but it is pretty rare to see TRA actually confronting the people who abused JK Rowling online, they cheered them on more than anything.

It is very telling how they spend more time in this video saying people collecting screenshots of the abuse JK Rowling suffered were “not cool” than the TRA giving them a bad name by actually abusing JK Rowling. They even say Jammy was also insulted online so TERF and TRA are as bad as each other right ?? Being called delusional or idiot is not the same as death threats sorry Jammy. (I doubt the “freak” one was from a terf tbh but even then, this is not even comparable) I mean didn’t you get at least one person saying they were going to kill you ? Because I did, and I have ,like, 200 followers. I find very weird that the woman here said “I received sexual assaults threats and this is as a cis woman!” as if women weren’t the primary target of sexual assaults threats. Yeah it’s the misogyny. What’s new.  You really should stop thinking you are somehow priviledged even when you are being sexually threatened ffs. What gender ideology does to a mf.

 “neither of these sides are innocent” 

oh come on, you cannot possibly means that the men who gave you sexual threats were terfs, this is ridiculous, you are just trying to excuse and diminish what people did to JK as per fucking usual.

 “persistent low level harassment” 

it hasn’t stayed low level tho. Stop trying to say you and JK are receiving the same abuse it’s embarrassing.

JK Rowling’s essay having real life effects on policies for exemple has an element of thruth ,even tho we disagree on wether or not this can be a good thing but your are deluding yourself if you think people assaulting transpeople are the sort of people whose views are in any way influenced by feminists. This is laughable. Also please stop with the guilt tripping, we are not responsible of the mental health of transpeople, we are not their therapists, sorry.

I love how they implied that the guy who forced GNC kids to behave as their assigned gender would somehow give a letter of thanks to a feminist. This is implying “terfs” want the same things as this maniac which is just a straight up lie, terfs absolutely adore GNC people and are mostly GNC themselves.

“What rights of women are actually being eroded by the inclusion of transwomen ?” I am glad you asked !! Well apart from the freedom of speech since “terfs” are losing their jobs and being deplatformed because of this, we have the inherent dangers of replacing sex by gender in what the law protects : https://www.aclu.org/blog/speakeasy/firing-mom-because-shes-breastfeeding-sex-discrimination this is a link to a story about a woman who was said being fired for breastfeeding was not sex discrimination because men can lactate. Do you see the problem ? Moreover there is quotas for women in politics etc….Women fought for their quotas and now males can have them, who do you think an employer would prefer someone who probably will be pregnant at one point or someone who never will ? and let’s not forget the right for women to have women only places :Women in prison are raped by the trans identified males in it .

“I cannot think of a single right that is removed from me”

 good for you maybe you should have actually researched radfems talking point before doing this video ? Your ignorance is not a good argument.  

“transwomen can use the women changing room because they are women” 

you keep saying that but apart from “they feel like women” you didn’t explain how they are women. This is the basis of this entire video and you never explained.  Also allowing any person who say they are women into the women’s changing room does not only allow transwomen does it ? It also allows lying freaks.

“You can protect cis women’s rights and transrights simulteanously” HOWWWWWWWWWWW, please tell me how to keep female only spaces (women’s right) while saying TWAW (transrights apparently according to them).

“transwomen can be the victims and cis women can do the voyeurism” 

true but did you forget we actually live in the real world and in that one males are much more likely to be sexually harassing people than women ? It is a brazen form of lying to tell women that since theoretically other women can also be creeps they don’t have to worry about males. Get a grip. Live in the real world for a change.

“It doesn’t reference transwomen but men pretending to be women” 

apart from “they feel it” you still haven’t told us what the difference is. You are aware nothing from an outside perspective distinguishes the two right ??

“there is no evidence of men pretending to be trans to enter female only spaces” and how would you know they are pretending ? This is the same problem again and again, if you define transwomen as men who feel like women then there is absolutely no way of verifying someone really is trans. And that’s a lie anyway since we do actually have proof of that happening?? There was that video making the room on radblr a while ago of a clear male pissing in the women’s bathroom saying (lying) that he was trans.

Yeah actually radical feminists would accept transmen in their bathrooms, but it’s not an easy question with an easy answer to know how to check they really are transmen. Although notice how they are again only talking about transpeople that passes ? I would feel safer with Jammy in my toilets than Hannah Mouncey for exemple :

  That is so obvioulsy a man in a dress.

“ If a transman with a beard and penis and balls can go into a women’s toilet and that is deemed okay because of his biological sex what is to stop a cis man from doing the same”

 I am sorry but are you saying a transwoman cannot have a beard and penis and balls ?????????? This is incredibly transphobic of you, you said that gender identity Is just feeling like a gender, how exactly does that mean transwomen cannot have beard ? If you want to know, radfem are arguing for a third toilet for transpeople, that’s our solution. What is yours ?

 Ok the next part is racist I’ll skip that thanks

On accusation of TERFery intimidating people and organizations “we haven’t seen these” again, your ignorance is not an argument, I am posting these on Tumblr where cryptoterfs arer numerous. Why do you think that is ?

Are they seriously saying Nike and addidas “accepted” transpeople because they “realized it was the right thing to do” ?????? Those companies employs slaves IN WHAT WORLD DO YOU LIVE IN??

“trying to make transpeople look crazy” 

the clownfish things were said online by real transpeople. We don’t need to invent thing to make transpeople look crazy, if there is  large enough group some people belonging in that group will say stupid shit .

“We support these rights”

 when speaking about women victims of abuse. This is a lie, the Vancouver rape shelter relief is often targeted by transactivists, recently a gofundme for it was cancelled because of transactivists, they are quite litteraly stealing money from raped women. This is not a small, inconsequential part of transactivism. 

“The trans-inclusionist views expand the meaning of women to include transwomen”

 It doesn’t expend shit actually since it excludes transmen and non-binary. If anything it reduces it.

They go on to say that transwomen deserves protection as women because of their murder rate. It doesn’t explain how being seen as women will help them here and anyway it’s a bold lie considering their murder rate is actually quite low. They also fail to consider how depriving transmen and nonbinaries of those same women’s right might be a problem.

Again they make the distinction between transwomen and men pretending to be transwomen without a way to identify which is which. This is starting to get repetitive and tedious. The problem is not that all transwomen are predators is that there is no way to see a difference until the predators acts, until a woman gets hurt, so accepting transwomen is accepting predators and saying transwomen feelings are more important that the women being hurt because of this. I disagree. The tiny tiny percentage of transpeople doing bad things is actually the same percentage as men doing bad things. If your argument could be used to say women only spaces shouldn’t exist at all because not all men are dangerous maybe you should reconsider your argument because I will not reconsider women’s right to have female only spaces.

“If you push transwomen out of female only spaces you push transmen in”

 Yes. I don’t even see where the problem is here.  Now why don’t we analyse the fact that if you push transwomen into female only spaces you push transmen out of them ? I don’t think transmen belongs in men’s prisons, do you ?

“Transpeople don’t dispute biology and don’t impact how female only diseases are treated” 

eat shit. They do impact this, every woman trying to say “female biology” get shit thrown at her faster than you can blink, stop lying to me Jammy. Do you think I would get called a bleeder, a fetus carrier, a motherfucking birthing body if transactivism wasn’t trying to erase sex ? Don’t you think the sentence “men can have periods” is not eroding biology ? Fuck off

Back to JK, Jammy is saying her disabling comment on her blog was not conductive to a conversation, I have to salute the straight face he says it with because do you really think a nice educated conversation would have taken place on JK Rowling’s essay ? They flooded her children’s book tag with porn for fuck sake.

“Thre is no explosion in young women who wishes to transition” sources ? Because it does seem to be true :https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/full/10.1111/jsm.12817

“the detransitionners rate is actually really low” hard to know but most people who transitioned did it not so long ago since transgender is a recent trend, we will have to wait and see to have a more robust number. But maybe they are right on that one, this is not going to be the one argument that changes my views unfortunately. 

“Does that mean we should stop people from getting plastic surgery then ?” 

lol you don’t know the radfem stance on plastic surgery do you ?

“There is more significant transphobia than homophobia” 

sources ? Because transition is used as converstion therapy in Iran so it is at least untrue in one country. 

“If transmen transition to escape womanhood why is there transwomen ?” 

You really didn’t research this did you ? the radfem answer is that transwomen are either gay men who have gender disphoria OR AGP (autogynephiles) read this if you want to learn more about it: https://grahamlinehan.substack.com/p/the-elephant-in-the-room

“why would people who have male privileges choose to give that up” 

you are assuming they lose their male privileges but I will need sources on that because most transwomen do not pass and are treated more as special men than as women.

“We have already shown you that transphobia is far more rife and damaging than homophobia” 

did I miss that part ? When ? You just said that ? Without backing it up ?

“anti trans narratives constantly contradict itself” 

No we do not, we are feminist so we OF COURSE we analyse men and women differently, this is an issue of gender which radical feminism posit as an hierarchy, trying to explain transwomen and transmen with the same arguments is doomed to fail because they were not equal in their relation to gender to begin with. Do you think black people trying to pass as white do it for the same reasons white people try to have more black features ? Of course not.

“What am I a lesbian or a homophobe ?”

 You are both, you are a lesbian in denial with a deep case of internalized misogyny and homophobia. You know yo can be both sexist and a woman right ? Well it’s the same here.

I heard “Simone de Beauvoir” and I knew they were going to be really fucking stupid with that “One is not born a woman but rather becomes a woman” quote and THERE IT IS! Please read the book. She is not saying male can become women if they try hard enough, she is saying basically the same thing JK Rowling’s quote said which is that “womanhood” as it is forced on women is alien and not natural and the point is that we should not accept it, it’s a feminist quote on femininity and I am so sick of men using it to say that they are women.

Transactivists acting as if sex recognition patterns don’t exists is exhausting so I won’t comment on “nobody checks if you have XX chromosomes before passing you over for a promotion” other than to say : passing over for promotions happens a lot when women are pregnant and after giving birth stop acting as if misogyny is unrelated to our reproduction capacities it is fucking insulting.

“transwomen will support [fights against tampon tax and FGM] too” 

FGM was a bad choice here considering transactivists tried to stop a bill against FGM .  I will need sources here actually since I never seen a transwoman fighting for women’s right in my life.

Ok I let a lot passes here because I’m tired but we are 48:40 in the video and fuck you “intersectional feminism” is not about males. It was for black women. It is not reductionist to say women are people with a vagina, this is just a definition, and one that applies to 50% of the population at that, there is litteraly no definition of woman that includes more people than that.

Imagine thinking “women are people with vagina” is reductionist but not calling women “vulva owners”. Please , I am begging for coherence.

“transwomen who experience greater abuse than cisgender women will ever experience” . 

This is revolting. I don’t have any other words. I am glad this is the end of the video because I would have stopped immediately if this was at the start. What abuse transwomen can experience than ciswomen cannot ? Because I would have thought forced pregnancy was horrific but maybe this doesn’t compare to being misgendered?

“most people are comfortable with transwomen going into women’s bathrooms” https://www.bsa.natcen.ac.uk/media/39147/bsa34_moral_issues_final.pdf

It says 13% of women are at least uncomfortable with sharing bathroom with transwomen, why are we ignoring their wishes? Because 0.1% of the population wants to ?  Whatever, the really interesting thing in this study is that for this question they defined “transwomen” as someone who has gone through all the steps to become a woman aka someone with surgery. I find extremely misleading that this is used for bathroom bills which defines transwomen as male identifying as women. Do you think the numbers would be the same if they specified the transwoman in question still has a penis ? Which is the case for most transwomen btw?

[italian-pastry]

BNHA Kid Headcanons

(For @yourwildflowerbouquet )

KIRIBAKU

-Eijirou had always wanted a lot of kids

-and Katsuki can't say no to his husband

-so there's 5 of them

-(damn 5 whole children)

-their kids call them Papa (Eijirou) and Dad (Katsuki)

-the first one is a girl

-she's just a copy-paste katsuki (personality wise) but with a better attitude

-they were figuring out how to raise kids

-they did pretty well, I think

-Her quirk is Fragmentation (She can make spikes on her body, then shoot them off like missles)

-her name is Mieko (Already Prosperous)

-the second one was a boy

-he ended up much more like Eijirou

-overall a radical little dude

-his quirk is Lavanic (he secretes lava like how Mina secretes acid)

-his name is Akio (Bright Man; Manly; Hero)

-(wow so original)

-the third one was born a male but she's more comfortable identifying as a girl so she's a she and that's that

-suprisingly timid for being raised by Katsuki and Eijirou

-also surprisingly, she still manages to be more like Katsuki whilst being timid

-passionate, stubborn, probably has some sort of complex, etc.

-her quirk is Pressure Blow (she hardens her own skin, but not as strong as Eijirou can, and when it breaks, there's an explosion)

-her name is Hiroki (Bright; Hope)

-the last two are twins

-which really surprised Katsuki

-"wtf why are there two"

-"well, kat, there is such a thing as twins"

-there is a girl and boy

-katsuki was horrified when his mom told him that the girl acted just like he did when he was a baby

-the boy is much more chill

-he just wants to play sports is that such a crime?

-the girl's quirk is Explosion (can send out a burst of energy like an explosion) and the boy's is Implosion (Explosion but in reverse)

-the girl's name is Kana (Powerful) and the boy's name is Tatsuhiro (Dragon, Immense Power)

-they're one big happy family

-Mieko has fully sharp teeth (like Eijirou) and the twins have partially sharp teeth

TODODEKU

-Shouto was worried when Izuku brought up the prospect of having kids

-he didn't want to fuck them up because he had a terrible dad

-"Izuku you didn't have a dad and I wish I didn't have a dad we're gonna fuck up this poor kid"

-Izuku respected his wishes and accepted the fact that they probably wouldn't have kids

-until Shouto had a chat with Natsuo (after Natsu became a dad)

-"Here's how I think of it, little bro; I'm gonna be the best fucking dad to this kid to show Endeavor that no matter how badly he fucked me up, I can still be happy with a better family than he will ever have"

-that certainly changed Shouto's perspective on things

-"oh yeah don't forget to have a good support system and do research on how to raise a kid or idk ask someone with actually good parents ok good luck buddy"

-So Shouto was lile "hey maybe we can try this kid thing out I did research and I'm feeling a bit more confident in my ability to raise a human"

- Izuku: :DD

-So they had a son!

-He's real chill (he's the mom friend and proud of it)

-imagine Shouto's overall chillness, but with Izuku's caring nature

-his quirk is Half-Flurry Half-Firework (he can make snow from one side of his body and sparks from the other)

_his name is Toshi, for obvious reasons

-(All Might cried)

-Izuku was like "look at how well we're doing with our son! Man, we we're worried over nothing!"

-"let's have another"

-"what"

-"you heard me"

-so they had another!

-Poor girl was born with the curse of blue eyes and red/pink hair

-Shouto was happy that she at least got Izuku's freckles to balance it out

-Homegirl is just Izuku minus anxiety

-she'd be unstoppable if she really tried

-her quirk is Thermostat (she can raise or lower the temperature of the air around her)

-her name is Arakan (Worthy One; Hero)

-Izuku: Wow I love our kids and how not screwed up they are :D

-Shouto: one more

-Izuku: wha

-Shouto: Just one more

-So they had one more

-she's a very good girl

-very respectful and sweet

-her quirk is black ice (ice, but black)

-her name is Youdai (Gentle; Shine)

- The kids call their parents Chichi (Izuku) and Daifu (Shouto)

-Sometimes called 'Chi' and 'Dai'

-These kids have 1 (one) grandpa and his name is Toshinori and he's their favorite

-The kids' grandmas are also very popular in this household

TSUYURAKA

-Ochako was pretty excited to have kids

-And tsu wanted them too so it all worked out

-They had a son first!

-he's a sweet boy who loves everyone and has a deep passion for life

-he does fall on the autism spectrum, but he works hard to not let that hold him back

-Tsu and Ochako are very supportive of their boy

-his quirk is Space Boy (He can increase or lower the amount of gravity affecting himself or anything he kicks)

-his name is Takiyo (waterfall)

-fun fact: he has half-n-half hair (half brown half green)

-their second child is a beautiful girl

-she's sisterly and energetic

-she doesn't really "get" hero culture and the desire for that lifestyle

-her quirk is Frog Morph (she can turn into a frog)

-her quirk is pretty plain, but she doesn't care

-her name is Ezumo (Fountain; cloud)

-Ochako and Tsu didn't have another kid for some time for no one reason

-but they did have another!

-he's a wittle itsy bitsy baby boy!

-he has a moon birthmark around his left eye

-AND heterochromia

-(man their kids have alot of half-n-half bastard traits)

His quirk is Orbit (anything he touches starts to orbit around himself)

-His name is Tsuki (Moon), but he's nicknamed Usagi (Rabbit)

- the kids call their moms Haha (Ochako) and Mama (Tsuyu)

-Since Ochako and Tsuyu didn't take each other's last names, their kids have alternating last names

-Takiyo and Tsuki have the Asui last name, and Ezumo has the Uraraka last name

SHINKAMISERO

-Denki and Hanta were the ones most excited to have kids at first, and Hitoshi was like 'cool go nuts I'll help raise them'

-So, biologically, their first kid's parents are Hanta and Denki

-but he's still very close to Hitoshi

-he looks and acts a lot like Hanta

-he's an all around sk8r boi

-his quirk is Electric Tape (basically Hanta's quirk but he can send and harness electricity via his tape)

-His name is Takeo (Warrior)

-one day when he was young, he had a really bad nightmare, and the only one of his dads awake was Hitoshi (since he's an insomniac)

-Hitoshi listened to his boy's rambling, and told him that no matter what monster or villain comes after him, he promises that he'd always protect him

-but one day, some B-tier villains broke into their home while Hanta and Denki were out doing Hero things

-Hitoshi tried to take them down, but they anticipated fighting him and had a strategy to take him down and ended up knocking him out

-when he was woken up by the police, they discovered that Takeo had been taken by the villains

-for five days, the villains had held him for ransom

-and for those five days, Hitoshi worked literally non-stop to try and track down and rescue Takeo

-after those five days, they ended up paying the ransom, and Takeo was returned to the police and his family safely

-except for a large gash on his shoulder he got during the initial break-in

-the whole event deterred Hitoshi from having more kids

-he was very anxious about being there for Takeo, and Hanta and Denki understood that

-so he and his husbands didn't have kids for like 15 years

-at this point, Takeo is a teenager, more independent, and is stronger/can tale care of himself

-Hitoshi feels better now about being able to put his attention elsewhere (focus less on Takeo)

-so he brought up to his husbands "Hey, do ya maybe wanna have another kid?"

-and they were like "omigosh yeah totally yes let us have another child"

-and there were twins!

-one boy and one girl!

-Hitoshi was just as confused as Baku when twins showed up

-"hol' up I only signed up for 1 kid not 2"

-"too bad they're yours"

-"Two for the price of one!" <- that's Hanta

-Biologically speaking, both of them are Hitoshi's, but the boy has Denki's DNA and the girl has Hanta's

-the boy has a resting bitch face and cries a lot

-the girl has resting sad face, but she's actually pretty cool

-the boy's quirk is Electroshock Therapy (mostly like Denki's quirk, except when he shocks you, you're under his control) and the girl's name is Mind Bind (it looks like Deku's Black Whip, except whenever it wraps around someone, they're under her control)

-the boy's name is Masashi (Commander; General) and the girl's name is Maemi (Honest Child)

-it's a bit weird for Takeo to have newborn siblings, but he loves them regardless!

-the kids call their dads Dad (Hitoshi), Pop (Denki), and Dada (Hanta)

AOMINA

-since I HC that Yuuga is graysexual, he didn't really vibe with kids for a while after they were married

-but Mina was totally fine with that!

-"hey it means I can still say fuck in my own house it's cool it's cool"

-although when Mina expressed further interest in kids a bit down the line, Yuuga was like "mmmmokay why not"

-and they had a girl!

-she has pink skin and weird eyes like Mina, but blonde hair and purple eyes like Yuuga!

-she also doesn't have horns

-she's very much like Mina

-she comes off as narcissistic at times, but she just has enough self-confidence for two people

-her quirk is Glo Splash (from one side of her body, she secretes one of the chemicals that make up the liquid in glow sticks, and the other half of her secretes the other chemical. She can mix them together to make it glow!)

-her name is Minako (child of Mina)

-Mina is not allowed to name their children anymore

-so when their son is born, Yuuga named him

-he got pink hair and horns and yellow eyes, but normal skin and normal eyes

-he's oddly very timid and anxious, which gives him a disconnect from the rest of his outgoing family

-his quirk is Lazer Horn (he can shoot lasers like Yuuga's from his horns)

-his name is Yukio (Snow Boy)

-the kids have hyphenated last names (Ashido-Aoyama) as opposed to having only one last name like their parents

-the most fab family has matching names: Yuuga and Yukio, Mina and Minako

-both the kids are fluent in French, and know snippets of English (we stan multilingual families)

-the kids call their parents Père (Yuuga) and Mama (Mina)

HAGOJIROU

-since Tooru was already pregananant when they got married, their first kid was quite a tad older than the majority of their Classmate's kids

-eh it's fine tho

-the first kid was a beautiful girl!

-due to her quirk, she likes to wear bright, complex clothing as to not go unnoticed

-she also makes a point to talk relatively loudly especially when in crowds

-her quirk is Ninja (physically, she is only an outline. She cannot be seen if she is standing still or the person looking for her doesn't know she's there)

-her name is Chieko (child blessed with wisdom)

-they had a second child a few years later on

-a boy!

-his fav hero is Ground Zero (to Mashirao's dismay)

-anyone who says otherwise can catch these hands

-he is also a woman respecter 100% through and through

-he can and will kick ass

-his quirk is Invisishift (he can turn himself invisible)

-kinda plain, but he loves it!

-his name is Ryuji (Dragon Child)

-A couple years after that (7-8 years or so) they had one more kid

-yet another boy!

-he's a lot like his mom (likes pranks, friendly, just a cool dude)

-he has really poofy curly hair

-his quirk is Tail (it's just Mashirao's quirk idk what to tell y'all)

-his name is Taishiro (Ambitious Boy)

-(i JUST learned that he shares his name with Fat Gum that was not planned I promise)

-all the kids can kick ass

-"Martial arts is an excellent form of exercise for children!" <- Mashirao

-the kids call their parents Mum (Tooru) and Pops (Mashirao)

-everyone's last name is Ojirou

MOMOJIROU

-Momo was really excited to have kids when their friends started announcing their pregnancies/having kids

-Baby Fever if you will

-Kyouka also wanted kids, but wasn't as outwardly excited as Momo

-and they had twiiiiiiiins

-also one boy and one girl

-because apparently there can't be same-sex twins in my headcanons

-the girl is more like Kyouka

-kinda punk, wants to be a hero, all that jazz (haha music)

-the boy is more like Momo

-elegant, charismatic, wants to go into Hero Management

-the girl's quirk is Stereo Heart (she has earphone jacks, and can play any sound she's ever heard, plus combinations) and the boy's is Bass Boost (he also has earphone jacks, but he can only alter his heartbeat (increase bass, vibrato, ect.))

-the girl's name is Satoshi (Intelligent History) and the boy's is Utano (Field Of Songs)

-both the kids are musically talented and very smart

-thanks for the great talents, moms!

-the kids call their parents Mom (Kyouka) and Mama (Momo)

-sometimes Kyouka and Momo can't tell which parent the kid is calling for, so they usually both yelling back (or the wrong one)

-it's a whole process to get the attention of the mom you want

-"HEY MOM"

-"YEAH?"

-"NO NOT YOU, MAMA, I SAID M O M"

[alkhale]

Shoot the Ball Pt.2 (Ushijima Wakatoshi x Reader) Ko-fi request

Hi. Could I get a ushiwaka trying to hopelessly flirt with a clueless OC? I requested Shoot the Ball and I am in love with what you did (and basically everything else you wrote and will write) thanks!!! ❤️❤️❤️

Aaaaa I love your writing!! Would it be possible to get a part two of the Shoot the Ball (Ushijima x Reader) fic?? That story is so fucking adorable and Id love to see more of Ushijima and the readers relationship (maybe throw in a confession or something in there)?

It’s here on AO3 if that makes for easier reading too! More to come!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24551512/chapters/59287438

Shoot the Ball Pt. 2

“Um, senpai, are you alright?”

You laughed, almost a bit haughtily. “Alright? Of course I’m alright, what are you talking about?”

You hardly looked up from your kneeling position on the wooden boards of the humble kyudo hall, bow laid across your lap as you worked on tightening the new string. It wasn’t the best time to readjust to a new one, given your still aching wrist, but you couldn’t have your old one breaking on you with the first round of tournaments coming up.

The hall itself was in impeccable condition, thanks to the hard efforts of yourself and your team. The lot of you spend hours toiling to make sure the grass is cut, the range is kept clean, and the hall itself shines in case you receive curious faculty visits or sponsors otherwise. Shiratorizawa Academy may be a wealthy one, but not all the wealth was concentrated kindly to each part of the school. It was up to you, the captain, and your members to keep the hall shining as though it were just as good—especially because it was —so new visitors would only continue to be impressed.

But instead of shooting rounds like your younger members should be doing, a small huddle of the closer second and first years were shooting you worried glances. You were the only third year still spear-heading the entire campaign since the rest had left for studies or quit beforehand. Your vice-captain was a second year and close confidant and currently running around campus like a fool because you sent her on an errand so you could get more practice in before she chased you out.

“(L/n)-san you’re good at kyudo, so of course you’d stay. We just did it for fun.”

You can be good at it and have fun. You thought tirelessly, remembering watching the third years leave the hall, standing alone in the waning sunlight across wooden floorboards. You’re just giving up.

It wasn’t as though you were born gifted. They can joke you were born with a bow in your hand, but it was pure luck that your mother turned the television on to that channel that day, showcasing the national kyudo archery performance at the Imperial Palace in Tokyo. It was luck that you fell in love with that sound and the way the bow bent and the arrow flew.

And it was hard work to follow through with the luck that brought you here.

They all told you you only had one thing on the brain—kyudo, and they also said it’d probably be the end of you. Even your parents had been dropping light hints as of late that perhaps you should finally peel off the sport and bunker down for your studies. “What about college? Kyudo might not get you there, you know.”

“Are you going to do it forever?”

What else were you going to do? Die? Of course you were going to do kyudo forever. If it didn’t get you into college then you just wouldn’t go.

There was nothing you loved more than this sight, this bow, this.

Nothing.

N-o-t-h-i-n-g.

Your juniors shot each other more nervous looks. One brave young first year who you secretly planned to have join the five-team shoot finally took a step forward, hesitantly pointing to your lap.

“Senpai,” she said nervously, “...your string is…”

“Impeccable,” you said simply, holding up your bow like a sword, a sharp glint in your eye. “Now get back to the range. I’m shooting rounds right after you guys before—”

“You put it on… wrong…”

You calmly stared at your junior for several seconds, the other archers looking frightful behind her. You glanced down to your bow, staring at where your string was, sure enough, notched to absolutely nothing instead of the other end.

You felt a vein throb on the side of your head, cheeks flushing as you did the only reasonable thing and blamed the one person who had shoulders big enough to shoulder the brunt of all your problems.

Ushijima!

----- ----  -----

Shiratorizawa Nurse’s Office, One Week Ago

“You watch kyudo ?” you spluttered, scrambling off the floor and grabbing your stool in disbelief. Ushijima considered you with a cool sort of calm, staring almost blankly back at you.

He stared at your sprawled form on the ground and offered a hand. You slapped it away but it barely moved. The stupid tree of a teenager.

You watch my kyudo?

“Yes,” Ushijima said. You almost jumped, realizing what you’d thought. He set his hands back onto his lap, returning to his solid posture. “My grandmother was well-acquainted with a friend who performed for the national ceremonial procedures. We often have the kyudo channel on within my household.”

Each sentence leaving Ushijima’s lip with frightening ease was punching holes into your gut. His grandma was pals with someone who shot for the national ceremonies? He watches kyudo? He knew what a kaichu was and —

“It is a graceful sport,” Ushijima continued, meeting your gaze evenly. “I have long admired the poise. I watched your debut on the national stage when they broadcasted your first-year tournament. You performed admirably.”

Your brain short circuited, snapping like a bowstring. Ushijima, merciless, continued matter-of-factly, “They also had a small segment on your performance in the prefectural collegates. It is a shame there isn’t talk of scouting, but it does not seem kyudo works the same way our volleyball season does. My grandmother is familiar with your accomplishments and noticed we attend the same academy.”

Huh?

Huh?

HUH?

“I hope you perform well this season as well—”

“Wait one second!” you blurted, flying across the stool and slapping a hand over his mouth. “Wait one damn second!”

Ushijima seemed only mildly surprised that your hand was now plastered over his lips. He blinked once, calmly back at you and you pointed aggressively at him with your other hand, nearly towering over him except even when he was sitting, he seemed to match your height.

“....are you trying to mess with me?” you said suspiciously, eyes narrowed. Ushijima blinked once more, calm. “You’re—you’re just some star volleyball player! And you’re a high schooler! It doesn’t even make any sense! How do you know about all of that, huh? No one even watches that channel on their own unless they’re real—”

You stopped yourself. You blinked rapidly. Real… fans… no, no, no, there’s no way! Ushijima Wakatoshi could not be a kyudo buff—volleyball and kyudo were about on the farthest ends of the spectrum as you could get! It didn’t make any sense.

This strangely nonchalant, weird classmate of yours was supposed to be nothing more than some poster-boy with tried and true skills in volleyball who stole the spotlight from the other sports at Shiratorizawa Academy, who was nice enough to pick up your flyers and greet you in the morning and say hello in that low, rumbling way of his when you spotted him and he made eye contact with you—

I don’t get this guy! You felt a vein throb on the side of your head, tempting to fist the collar of his uniform and really show him what for—all due to your unjust frustration—if this hard-to-read volleyball jock was just messing around—but, well, Ushijima didn’t really seem like the type for that either.

You blinked stupidly at Ushijima when his hand calmly came up, holding your wrist and lowering your hand down so he could speak. “I watch.”

He seemed to think for a moment before continuing, as though answering a question asked by the teacher, “You’re on channel KNJ most Thursday nights. Some Sunday mornings. I often record the broadcasts when there seems to be something notable.”

You felt something stab through your entire being, ripping into your existence on this universe, turning the world around you upside on your head.

Mr. All-Youth-Japan tuned into broadcasts that featured your kyudo accomplishments and—

“I watch,” Ushijima repeated, never breaking contact with your gaze. His large fingers circled easily around your wrist, holding them loosely against the calloused heat of his palm. “As I said, I am a fan of your archery.”

Something incoherent left your lips. A croak of some sorts. Ushijima’s brows furrowed slightly. “Yes?”

“L-Let me get this straight,” you said shakily. “My… my archery… you watch it?”

“Yes,” Ushijima said.

“You… like it?”

“Quite,” Ushijima said.

The faint smell of salonpas tickled your nose. The light hint of sweat and fabric softener. Up close, you suddenly realized that Ushijima had more complex eyes than you thought, hinting a little bit of gold. Lighter than his hair. He smells different from what I’d expect too.

Wait, what the hell were you expecting in the first place?

Ushijima frowned briefly, eyes suddenly leaving your face and turning to your wrist. He considered where his fingers touched your skin, feverishly warm. His thumb lightly pressed the inside of your wrist and he turned his gaze back to you. “(L/n)-san, is your wrist swollen—”

“W-Well, it only makes sense, I guess!” you said loudly, yanking your hand entirely out of his grasp and tossing them both into the air. Ushijima looked up at you with furrowed brows as you laughed, nervous and sweating bullets with your fingers waggling. “ The Ushijima Wakatoshi? A fan of my archery? Hah! Haha… hah! Of course you’d be! Y-You have good taste! I’ll give you that, Ushijima-san! I’ll give you that! But that doesn’t mean anything else in the grand scheme of all this—y-you’re still nothing but a competitor for the sponsorships of this school!”

Ushijima apparead mildly confused, brows furrowed in a touch of a heavy set over his normally stern features. “Sponsorship?”

“That’s right!” you blurted, pointing right at his face. Your eyes were spinning, head twisting in circles. “All anyone cares about is your stupid volleyball!” Ushijima’s frown deepened. “Your team gets the spotlight even though we’ve got plenty of great achievements—you’re flattery won’t get you anywhere! My club is still going to come out on top and all anyone’s going to be talking about is kyudo and—and more kyudo!”

“Volleyball isn’t stupid,” Ushijima said calmly. “But I did not realize that others in our student body were not watching kyudo—”

“I’m going to go shoot right now!” you declared, almost delirious as you hurriedly grabbed your bag. Ushijima stood up from his stool, looking after you. “G-Gotta get those results—bye!”

Before Ushijima could say anything otherwise, you were sprinting out the door, nearly tripping over your feet and covering your face in your hands as you still tried to process the fact that Ushijima Wakatoshi was your first and probably only fan.

You probably fainted somewhere in the kyudo hall. This had to be a dream. A weird, warped dream caused by delirious induced hallucinations of Ushijima’s volleyball posters.

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

Sadly, it hadn’t been a dream. The entire interaction a week ago had been very, very real, and it’d annoyingly been on your mind since. You tried furiously to dispel all thoughts of it with waves of your arrows and aggressive scrubbing of the floors, but to no avail.

“I watch.”

Ushijima of all people? You couldn’t wrap your head around it. Him? Kyudo? That muscle head?

But… if he knew so much about it and even recorded broadcasts… then he really did have great taste. Kyudo was an amazing sport. Anyone willing to give it the attention it deserved was worth a good tick or two in your book. Not only that, but he complimented your archery—

No, no, forget it! You furiously shoved your things into your bag, wrapping up your bow and unstringing it as you slung everything over your shoulder. Several bags hung off your back and shoulders as well, stuffed with targets you needed to take home and repaint for tomorrow’s practice. You were the last one in the kyudo hall, sending all your juniors home to rest. Who cares if he watches your archery? Just a month ago he was some stranger on a poster!

You nodded to yourself, satisfied with your roundabout answers. Yeah, stop worrying about him. What are the odds we’ll run into each other again, anyway? Only on posters. You and Ushijima Wakatoshi were still a decent world apart, even with the recent amount of run-ins. Who was to say they wouldn’t stop tomorrow?

You nodded again, kicking the door open with your foot and struggling to pull all your bags out along with your bow, strapped neatly to your back. You huffed, shaking free like a wet dog and hobbling down the corner of the hall to begin the long trek back to the dorms. Just focus on kyudo, (Y/n). Kyudo’s all that matters anyway, not volleyball players the size of oak trees and —

“Good evening, (L/n)-san.”

AND WHY THE HELL IS HE HERE TOO?

You gaped in disbelief, pale as a sheet with your arms bulging over the top of your bags, looking like a pack mule in the middle of the road.

Ushijima Wakatoshi calmly gazed back at you, expression neutral. His volleyball bag, neatly printed with the school’s logo was slung over his shoulder. He wore the deep purple track jacket over a black t-shirt and volleyball shorts—a young athlete clearly fresh out of practice.

And now here he was, standing in front of the kyudo hall, looking at you.

Ushijima raised one big hand in greeting, staring at you. The evening glow cast a nice little warm light around his broad shoulders and hair, turning it soft.

HAH?

You almost dropped your bags in shock, blinking rapidly. You rubbed one of your eyes, blinking again and squinting in disbelief at Ushijima right in front of you. He brought his hand back down, calmly facing you.

“Um,” you said intelligently. “...take this however you want, but… what are you doing here?”

Ushijima’s eyes swept once over the amount of bags bulging out from under your arms, taking particular interest in examining the tall, towering form of your unstrung bow rising high above your head. He turned his eyes calmly back to you.

“I was waiting for you.”

Oh, right. You thought. That makes perfect sense. For some reason, Ushijima Wakatoshi is waiting for me outside the kyudo hall.

HAAAH?

“Is there… a reason why?” you asked tentatively, keeping your eyes on him as you shifted side to side like an uncertain crab.

Ushijima answered, without missing a beat, “I wanted to talk with you.”

You almost dropped all your bags. Almost. “Uh… about…?”

Ushijima seemed to consider your words for a moment longer this time. He faced you with an ungodly amount of calm, reminding you more of a statue for some kind of demi-god than a human with his towering frame and golden glow against the sunset. “Whatever it is that you might want to talk about.”

What the heck is that supposed to mean? “What the heck is that supposed to mean?” you asked, outright confused. Ushijima’s brows furrowed slightly. “And, hold on, correct me if I’m wrong or something, but you weren’t… waiting for me… right?”

(Y/n), are you an idiot? Of course this guy wasn’t waiting for you. Why would he be waiting for you —

“No,” Ushijima said. You sighed in relief. “Practice ended fifteen minutes ago. It was not much of a wait.”

You dropped all your bags to the floor, except your bow, sturdy against your back. Ushijima’s eyes turned down to the mess at your feet.

You stood like a cardboard cut out in the middle of the road, frozen in disbelief. But why?

“Do you need help?” Ushijima asked, stepping closer. You jumped back into action quickly scrambling for the bags. “You were heading back to the dorms, correct?”

“S-So what if I was?” you snapped, trying to precariously balance all your bags again. Ushijima waited, watching you struggle. You defensively added, “I-I have a system! You surprised me so I just have to get them stacked in the right order again!”

“I see,” Ushijima said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to surprise you.”

What the hell is this guy’s problem? You thought in horrified confusion, grabbing at your bags and huffing. What does he want from me? Is this some new type of bullying?

“Why are you carrying so many bags?” Ushijima asked. In any other manner, it would’ve sounded completely different, but his voice was calm, as though stating fact. You’re mouth opened and closed like a fish, still trying to wrap your head around this strange interaction.

“B-Because I have to repaint the targets!” you snapped. You struggled to fit them all back on your arms, scowling. “They were chipping yesterday so—”

In one sweeping motion, Ushijima’s hand closed over several of the bag handles, lifting the bulky materials up into the air. You blinked rapidly in disbelief, hands still hanging in the air, holding nothing but your own bow on your back while Ushijima calmly held onto your targets.

“I’ll carry them,” he said simply, gazing down at you with those impassive, unreadable eyes. The sunset made them a little warmer, but only because of the sunset. “What part of the dorms do you stay in?”

You gaped at Ushijima like a fish. He waited patiently for your answer, standing beside you and holding all your bags like they were nothing.

“I-I don’t need your help, you jerk!”

Ushijima had the nerve to look confused. “It’s more efficient this way.”

“Are you trying to pick a fight?”

“Are you on the west or east side?”

“West—I-I’m talking to you, you tree trunk! Put those down! I’ll carry them myself!”

“I do not see why you would choose a less efficient manner to—”

“You want to get beat up?”

“No, that was not my intention. Have I done something to upset you?”

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

But the problem didn’t stop there.

Every evening after practice, Ushijima waits, without fail, outside the kyudo hall. You’re always the last one to leave, and it seems for some ungodly reason, the timing of the end of his own practices mesh perfectly with yours.

You can’t even begin to wrap your head around it, staring in disbelief day after day as Ushijima appears, again and again, waiting for you outside to walk you back to the dorms. He offered to take your bag for you, asking dutifully each time even though you always turned him down since it’s just your bow and backpack and Ushijima just nods and continues, speaking every other bout of silence.

You tried to figure out why, but all he does is answer, in his stupid, impassive Ushijima-way, “I wanted to talk to you.”

Talk? With you? What the hell was that even supposed to mean? What kind of game was this guy playing? It didn’t make any sense! Each day you set out to figure out how to stop this nonsense, but each afternoon, Ushijima brought up several other topics of conversation that made you pause, pushing it off another day and then another.

And then you just… sort of resigned yourself to this strangeness.

Is it because he’s my fan? You rubbed your chin in thought, frowning at your shoes while Ushijima walked in content silence beside you. A few students shot the two of you curious glances, but you just furrowed your brows, automatically following Ushijima as he navigated you two outside a crowd of track runners and moved to the other side of the walkway with you in thoughtful tow. Is that it? I mean, I’m flattered, but this is still weird.

He talked to you about all kinds of things too—kyudo, mainly. Ushijima was a weird person to hold conversations with, seemingly blunt and forward with his intentions, but an absolute enigma at the same time. He would ask without fail how your practice went, your intentions for the upcoming preliminaries, how the competition looked, how your kyudo was going, your team—

And, yeah, maybe you would answer because it was kyudo and you loved talking about kyudo—but that was the only reason why. The only one. If someone was asking about kyudo, you’d always answer without fail.

“Well, what about volleyball?” you snapped one day, the two of you standing in the middle of the pathway, still a good few minutes away from the dorms. Ushijima turned to you, fixing you with his entire attention like always. “You’re some kind of crazy volleyball nut, right? Why aren’t you talking about it?”

“...I was under the impression you were not interested in volleyball,” Ushijma said. Did the jerk sound pleased? No way , Ushijima Wakatoshi was practically limited to two emotions. Ushijima one and two.

“I think volleyball is fine!” you said. “It’s a great sport. It’s not as great as kyudo, but it’s fine. Isn’t it your whole life? Stop talking about mine, you creep. What about yours?”

You looked up at him when Ushijima didn’t say anything. The quiet expression on his impassive face made you pause, staring at him with curiously round eyes as a third Ushijima seemed to finally appear and he started, almost… warmly , to talk about it—volleyball, him.

“Yes,” Ushijima said. “I like volleyball.”

Well, he really did seem to know his stuff about kyudo.

So… maybe Ushijima Wakatoshi wasn’t too bad after all. I mean, if he’s my fan… you should do your duty then, right? Your personal vendetta against Ushijima had mostly stemmed from the unjust bias in publicity, but it wasn’t really his fault… But only because he’s my fan… yeah. It’d be mean to turn away someone genuinely interested in talking about kyudo.

You figured you could put up with this. Just for a bit longer.

Maybe. Just a bit.

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

At the crack of dawn one weekend, you looked up from tying your running shoes, spotting a familiar, hulking figure only a few feet away. Steam billowed past his lips, making him look just as much of a monster as he did that one morning almost several months ago now from the club meeting.

Dedicated. You blew hot air into your freezing hands, shivering at the morning chill. Guess he really isn’t a nationally ranked player for nothing.

“Ushijima!”

His arms moved neatly at his sides, stride even, form impeccable. Ushijima’s eyes swung across the school courtyard and landed on your lone form by the benches. You couldn’t make out the shift in his expression from where you stood, but instead of waving in response like you expected, he veered off his running track across the pathway and made his way to you.

“Good morning,” Ushijima said, hardly sounding winded. This guy, I swear. You lifted a hand again in greeting, stuffing your freezing fingers back into your pockets. He stopped beside you, radiating warmth and thrumming with a low, even pulse of energy. You almost wanted to put your hands on him just to warm them up.

“I didn’t know you ran on the weekends too,” you said. “You don’t go home?”

“I visit when needed,” Ushijima said evenly. “My household isn’t far from campus. It’s easier to stay in the dorms.”

“Oh, I see,” you shuffled on your feet, shifting your hands inside your pockets. “Uh, sorry to disturb you. Just wanted to say hey.”

“You didn’t disturb me,” Ushijima said.

Give me something to work with after you say stuff like that! You grimaced, somewhat used to this sort of flat-ended conversation by now. You rubbed the back of your neck, Ushijima still waiting in silence beside you, seemingly content to just stare at the pathway, steam lightly slipping past his mouth when he exhaled.

“...you, uh,” you started awkwardly. “Want to run together?”

Ushijima’s dark eyes turned toward you. You shrugged, waving a hand. “If I can’t keep up, just keep going. I’m not looking to mess with your training regime or anything.”

“You’ll be able to keep up.”

You stopped, looking at Ushijima with round eyes. He gazed evenly back at you as you searched for a hint of mockery or some kind of tease, but his expression was dutifully earnest.

“...okay,” you mumbled. “...Let’s go then.”

The two of you broke off back into a jog, slowly finding your pace together, arms and legs moving in unison.

The run warmed you up faster than you expected.

You and Ushijima never once broke pace with each other.

---- --- ----

“Tendou-senpai, who is that with Ushijima-senpai?”

Tendou hummed, swinging his legs back and forth as he stretched lazily out across the court. In a few minutes he’d shape up before Coach could lecture him about his terrible form. Shirabu was stretching out beside him, eyes turned toward the double-door opening of the gym where they were letting a bit of a breeze come through. Goshiki looked up at Shirabu when he mentioned Ushijima, quickly peeking his head around too.

Sure enough, outside the double doors stood a completely rare sight to behold. Ushijima Wakatoshi himself cut several minutes close to the beginning of practice to stand outside and speak with someone.

You.

Goshiki frowned in confusion, barely catching a glimpse of you blocked by Ushijima’s hulking figure. His head was turned downwards, speaking with you. A massive, clothed staff seemed to come up from behind your back, however, rising even over Ushijima’s head. “Who’s that?”

“That’s Kyu-chan~” Tendou hummed. “Our dear captain’s new little friend!”

“Kyu-chan?” Goshiki repeated loudly. “Who is that? Is she close to Ushijima-senpai?”

“...she’s the captain of the kyudo club,” Shirabu said, blinking in recognition. “I see her passing out flyers to the lower grades. She and Ushijima-senpai are friends? Are they classmates?”

“Something like that,” Tendou said. “Waka-kun is a bit of a fan.”

“Of kyudo?” Shirabu looked over in mild surprise. “I didn’t think Ushijima-senpai could look at any other sport beside volleyball.”

“Well, something like that too?” Tendou touched a finger to his chin, feigning ignorance. “It’s more like he became a fan of the sport as a result!”

“Of what?” Shirabu continued, raising a critical brow.

“Kyudo?” Goshiki said. “What’s that?”

Shirabu rolled his eyes, looking done with the wing spiker’s nonsense. Goshiki gaped in disbelief, quickly turning to Tendou who’d rolled over onto his stomach, watching the sight of you and Ushijima in amusement, as though it were some kind of television soap opera.

You said something to Ushijima, shoving a plastic bag his way. He took it calmly with one hand, holding it tightly at his side as he said something else to you. Tendou watched a dumb sort of laugh touch your lips and you shook your head, waving to Ushijima over your shoulder as you headed off to your own practice.

Ushijima watched you go, waiting there until you disappeared from sight. He held the bag at his side, waiting a second longer before he turned back toward the gym.

“Ah,” Tendou said, “young love.”

Shirabu’s grip on his ankle slipped and Goshiki choked, the two of them looking at Tendou in almost disbelieving horror. “ What? ”

---- ----  ----

"Ushijima-san brings the game to a match point now with that finishing serve. His powerful strikes are yet to be received by the opposing team. His statistics are still on the rise and he might just be able to finish the set with another service ace, bringing it up for — ”

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to admit it. Maybe a couple months ago you wouldn’t have wanted to admit it, because it would have left an unfairly foul taste on your mouth, reminding you again that there was perfectly good reason for Ushijima and his team to be receiving the kind of publicity and acclaim they did.

But now… well, sure, Ushijima wasn’t a bad guy at all. You might even say you were sort of acquaintances now. Maybe friends. To an extent. He was a bit awkward, blunt, and sometimes hard to talk too if you didn’t figure out the nuances in his rather simple and earnest approach—that still rubbed you the wrong way from time to time but what was life without some disputes—but the evidence was glaringly obvious.

Ushijima Wakatoshi worked hard. Terribly, frighteningly so, in the same way that you could understand with every new ache of your wrist and pull of your bow, straining to push and push and rise higher and higher. You noticed it in his runs, in his practices, and now, even sneaking a quick watch of a few of his highlights online, which lead to an endless spiral of watching several more taped games of his performances.

He dedicated himself to volleyball the same way you did to kyudo. You were both hopeless causes for these things you were willing to give your all too.

You replayed the last point again, watching huddled up on the bench as you waited for the lunch bell to ring. You’d had to tape up your wrist today, finally giving in to Ushijima’s persistent, dull-tone nagging. You’d go easier on practice too, just this once, since he seemed to adamant about it. Just this once.

“Many will be disappointed if you can’t shoot.”

I mean, I can’t let my fans down, right? Heheheh...

The announcer started speaking in your ear and you followed Ushijima across the court, watching him toss the ball up for that killer serve again. I know how it ends but I still get anxious watching this.

“(L/n)-san.”

You let out an inhuman screech, phone flying into the air as your limbs spazzed out. Ushijima blinked once, calmly catching your phone before it hit the unforgiving floor and holding it in his grip as he waited for you to calm down. You wheezed, slapping your chest to make sure your heart was still in it, cheeks flushed red as you gaped at Ushijima in disbelief. “U-Ushijima! You scared me! Say something next time!”

“I did,” Ushijima said, only mildly confused. “I said your name.”

“Louder!”

“I see,” Ushijima said. He grabbed your dangling earbuds and paused, turning your phone screen over.

His own face looked back at him, impassive and collected.

You slapped your phone out of his hand, letting it hit the floor with a clack. Ushijima blinked once at it and then looked back at you. You heaved, cheeks flushed a bright red as you stuttered, practically shouting, “It’s not what it looks like!”

Ushijima bent down to pick up your phone.

You quickly scooped it and shoved it into your pocket, completely frazzled. Ushijima considered the now empty spot in his hand before looking back at you, completely unfazed.

“We were seeded for Inter-High this year,” Ushijima said calmly. “Next month we’ll play. Would you like to come then?”

“Who said I wanted to watch your stinking game?” you snapped, cheeks till bright red as you practically hissed at the towering young man. Ushijima’s face remained almost expressionless, almost, but he simply waited for more words to come out of you, as they always did. “When is it? In a month? Maybe I’ll come! Maybe!”

“I look forward to seeing you there,” Ushijima said. He glanced back down to his hands before looking over at your bow strapped to your back. “Your beginning preliminaries don’t allow for outside spectators.”

Stop saying it like you mean you’ll come if it were different! You waved Ushijima off. “Yeah, yeah, but we’re making it past prelims so you can come to the official tournament.”

“You’re confident,” Ushijima said.

“Of course I am! What do you think I’ve been doing all this time?”

Ushijima’s hands shifted to his sides. He gazed down at you, expression almost light. No, no, no, you’re just imagining things. “I look forward to watching you then.”

“Check your calendar first,” you muttered. “You don’t even know if you’ll be able to come.”

“I will attend, if it is alright with you.”

This guy is really something else! You ran a quick hand through your hair, fighting back the furious flush of pride that threatened to overtake your features. Ushijima started saying something else, calmly talking about how he felt your form improved lately, but he had yet to see so for himself. You can’t help but think about how he’d opened the gym doors for you, allowing you to take a peek into their harrowing, rigorous volleyball practice schedule simply because you were a bit curious and—

You’re not sure what possessed you next.

“You can come if you want,” you said suddenly. “To practice today.”

Ushijima paused, looking back to you. You finally met his gaze, rubbing the back of your neck. “Since you like it so much, right? Kyudo. I can… you can try it, if you want. Just this once.”

(Y/n) I think you’ve completely lost your mind, maybe you really are practicing too hard after all and —

“If it is not a hindrance to your performance,” Ushijima said. “I will come.”

You scoffed, scuffing your foot along the floor. “What, you think I’m gonna choke?”

“No,” Ushijima said.

“You know, would it kill you to give me something to work with for once—”

“If you intend to watch more matches, please watch our match against Itachiyama,” Ushijima said, after a pause.. “It was where I received my ranking. My performance is… better, during that match.”

“Please stop talking.”

--- ---  ---- ----

A round of terrified gasps and gargles from your fellow club members was about the best warning you got that Ushijima had finally made his appearance at your kyudo hall, right as rain, bright and early like he promised.

The poor first year who’d been the one to open the door looks downright terrified, face pale at Ushijima’s towering figure now blocking the doorway into the entrance hall. He gazed down at her, the top half of his face nearly obscured until he lowered his head slightly in a fearsome bow.

“Good morning. I’m sorry to intrude.”

She gaped, staring in disbelief at his appearance while the other girls had all turned and then made equally disbelieved faces, eyes round and popping out of their heads.

“H-Hey, (Y/n)!” your vice captain hissed. “I might be going crazy, but isn’t that Ushijima standing at our door? What’s the boy’s volleyball team captain doing here?”

“Are they trying to run us out?” one girl gasped. “So they can expand the gym?”

“They’ve come for our kyudo hall!”

“Captain, please do something!”

You know, maybe a few months ago you would’ve thought exactly the same. You sighed in amusement, crossing your arms over your hakama as you exited the shooting range and set your bow down against the wall. Who would’ve thought?

“It’s fine guys,” you said, waving to your club members who gaped at you. “I invited him over. Ushijima wanted to see how a kyudo practice went. I promised I’d help him shoot one round.”

“Captain—”

“Invited—”

“Ushijima-senpai—”

You walked over to Ushijima, looking up at him with your hands on your hips. He seemed to take in your formal kyudo attire with particular care, reaching up to his chest and setting his hand down on his black shirt and shorts, his volleyball jersey hanging over his shoulders. “Is the attire required?”

“Not this time,” you said with a grin. “We probably don’t have a uniform that fits you anyways. Come on in.”

The girls around you continued to gape in disbelief. Ushijima bowed to them once more, politely taking off his shoes and bending down to make it into the hall without hitting his head. He rose to his full height below the arching wooden beams, calmly taking his jacket off as well and slinging it over his arm as he followed behind you, trudging like a massive shadow.

You secretly took note of his mannerisms in the hall, curious about whether or not you’d need to correct him for this or that. To your disturbed surprise, Ushijima found himself at perfect ease in the completely formal setting, properly shifting to the side to stay out of the presentation range and moving in even, clear steps across the floor.

He looked to you, waiting for your next instructions. It was almost cute, like a giant, big dog.

Almost.

“We’ll match you with a bow and show you the practice movements,” you said cheerfully, getting a little pumped up about teaching someone for the first time in awhile. Not to mention a total newbie to the sport who was a god in his own—truly a bit satisfying for your ego. “Then we shoot, just a bit.”

Ushijima nodded, his expression settled into one of ease. You stopped just short of grabbing the unstrung bows, blinking in surprise.

Did he just smile?

---- ----  ---  ----

“I can’t believe I’m seeing this with my own eyes.”

“I know! It’s the Ushijima-senpai. I thought he was some kind of scary giant!”

“I heard he’s cold to everyone else! He glares at anyone who comes close!”

“Did you hear? Apparently he comes from a super wealthy, really well-off family! And he’s gifted! He’ll go pro for sure!”

“Why’s he here with senpai then?”

The first and second year girls all shared looks, frowning at each other before they peered around the corner of the sliding doors into the shooting range.

The height difference was pitifully apparent when you stood beside Ushijima, hands on your hips as you loudly and carefully instructed him on what he’d need to know to make sure he didn’t hurt himself. The obvious pride and ego in your stance seemed to make up for any height difference though, as Ushijima patiently craned his head down and listened to you, holding the bow and arrow in his hands.

You eagerly touched your own bow, showing him in exaggerated motions the stances, shuffling backwards to show him how you knelt and then stood, coming to stand in shooting position. Ushijima listened to all of this with obvious attentiveness, following your every motion and nodding, asking a quiet question once or twice.

Your juniors made eyes at each other, nervously peering around the corner.

“Is this something she’s doing to show kyudo is worth attention?”

“Is it a fight? Do you think he challenged her to a fight or something?”

“But if it’s senpai, wouldn’t she be the one challenging him to a fight? She’s been so worried lately about new members…”

Your vice captain observed the two of you in silence, arms crossed over her chest. She carefully considered Ushijima’s attentive stare, the quiet and swift way he moved to follow your motions, coming always to stand beside you unless you shooed him back to make another demonstration. Her eyes finally tracked back to Ushijima’s bag hanging in a small visitor cubby, neatly folded bags of energy drinks and protein bars with two boxes of cut fruit—one wrapped and the other one not.

“Can you believe who I ran into trying to get that drink you told me to get? That jerk all over our school!”

The drinks sitting in Ushijima’s bag were the ones she’d told you about all those months ago.

“I think,” she said. “It’s going to be okay… probably.”

Your juniors gaped in disbelief. Your vice captain shrugged.

“The nice thing about archery is that it doesn’t really matter if you shoot right or left!” you said amiably, growing more and more excited as you showed Ushijima the correct position for a left-handed archer. “Not like volleyball, right? The ball goes a totally different way. Arrows always fly straight if you shoot it right.”

Ushijima’s hand flexed against the bow. He gazed down at you. “You noticed.”

“Well, duh , who couldn’t tell what hand you’re hitting with? Anyway, you’re lucky I can actually shoot crazy good with both, here, this part gets easier.”

You stood right beside Ushijima, hardly even coming up to his shoulder. His eyes were focused on the top of your head for a moment, gazing at the crown of your hair before his eyes shifted to your hands, small and calloused as they reached for his and you molded yourself against him. Your eyes were shining as you guided his hands against the bow, showing Ushijima how to pull the string. You pressed your fingers into the crook of his elbow, squeezing to draw him back and lightly touching the small of his back to straighten him out.

He could feel the whisper of your heart against him, the light pulse like the flutter of the net after a strike into its side, shaking its hold.

“There,” you said softly, pulling back with a grin. Ushijima’s gaze turned over his shoulder to look down at you, properly taking in the way your hair framed your cheeks, how your eyes brightened, more and more, as though being here could make you invincible.

The way I feel on the court.

“Now if you just pull and release like I taught you,” you said gently, touching his wrist one more time and then mimicking the action with your own arms, copying his left-handed stance. “You’ll be golden!”

Ushijima carefully considered his form, focusing intently on the arrow and the target that seemed an entire court away. It was reassuring, in that sense. It wasn’t hard to envision the power he’d need to send a ball that far. The arrow and bow in his hands were rather different, fragile yet stiff when he pulled, bending and bending but not breaking.

“Don’t hold back,” you said right by his side. Ushijima’s eyes met yours over the bow and he took in fully then, the sight of your eyes, burning. “We can handle more than you think.”

Ah.

Ushijima never took his eyes off you, firing off the arrow, shooting straight into nothingness.

Your eyes quickly shot to where it landed. You laughed, shaking your head at where the arrow hand landed, just a few inches from the target into the sand. “Hey! That’s actually not bad for a first time—guess even you can’t get it on the first shot though, right?”

The grin on your face was flooded with pride, cheeky as you laughed, turning back to him and picking up your bow. Ushijima followed the curve of your lips, disappearing into a smile, the crinkle of your eyes. “Here, here, one more time! I want to see the Ushijima Wakatoshi give kyudo another shot, or even a dozen more!”

You raised your bow, grabbing your waiting arrow as you went through the foot motions and stopped. “Maybe you can get a little good—then I’ll gloat to the whole world that a nationally ranked volleyball player learned kyudo from me , right?”

“That seems unnecessary,” Ushijima said, watching your arms, your hands, your body coil like a practiced, well-oiled machine.

“Publicity!” you said. “Help me out here, would you? Kyudo isn’t as loved as volleyball, you know. Look, watch how a pro does it.”

He felt something stir in his gut at your words, lurching.

You copied his stance and turned your gaze forward. Ushijima looked behind him when he sensed a sudden hush fall over the hall, your juniors watching in rapt attention as you pulled your arrow back and adjusted your entire stance.

Your eyes zeroed in on the target. You exhaled.

The light in your eyes never seemed more fierce.

With a resounding clap the arrow shot out from your fingers, as though guided by the wind. Your hair blew out from your face, coiling backwards. It slammed dead-center into the target.

Ushijima felt again, the stir, quick and fervent in his gut. His grip on the borrowed bow tightened as you gazed at the arrow, smoothly holding your bow at your side and then you turned to him. The memory of the television flickered through his head, the garbled, clear words growing louder as he faced you and your eyes focused on him, bright.

“Maybe we could make an archer out of you just yet,” you laughed, rubbing your chin as you observed Ushijima’s own charm as he held the bow. “In our uniform you’d really look like you belonged here. You’ve got the poise for it.”

“...but?” Ushijima said, sensing the continuing hang of your words.

“But,” you agreed, propping your chin up as you nodded to yourself. “Yeah… you really do look better on a volleyball court, you know?”

Twang! Twang!

He’d always thought they were a bit similar—that sharp, satisfying sound that always left your bow when you shot and the sound of his hand connecting with the ball, sending it just right through the air.

Ushijima let the stir in the pit of his stomach flood his chest, calmly seeping down to the tips of his fingers as he gazed at you.

“Let’s give it one more go. Next time you can show me how to spike if it won’t rip my arm off—”

“(L/n)-san,” Ushijima said, his voice like a low rumble. Your juniors flinched at the back of the hall and you simply hummed in response, looking back at him. “Thank you.”

“...you’re welcome,” you said amiably, laughing a bit. “If you like it so much, you can come when you’re not busy—”

“I like you, (L/n)-san.”

Your juniors froze. Your vice-captain’s eyes bulged from her head. You blinked, grinning at Ushijima.

“Yeah, I know, you dork. You’re my first and biggest fan! Were you just blown away about seeing my shooting in person?”

“Yes,” Ushijima said. He properly turned to face you, eyes heavy, expression set. You suddenly felt a suspicious chill curling up your spine, forcing you to blink at him with wide, confused eyes. “I like watching you shoot the best.”

Ah, see! Nothing to be worried about. What was I even thinking in the first place? Your juniors sighed in relief behind you. “I know! I really am the—”

“But you,” Ushijima said, completely and utterly calm, voice clear as water, “are what I like the best as well.”

For once, you committed one of the gravest sins—your bow clattered to the floor. Your face turned pale in disbelief, color slowly starting to color it back in soft red as it came up from your neck and to your face. The entire kyudo hall went silent at Ushijima’s words, resounding like an echo.

“Uh… yeah, I mean… um… what’s that supposed to… mean?”

Ushijima continued, without missing a beat, merciless—

“I like you,” Ushijima said. A heartbeat longer and he added, calmly, “I want to be with you.”

Thud!

“S-S-Senpai’s collapsed! Someone call a teacher, we’re being attacked!”

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

Two Years Ago

Ushijima Household

“Wakatoshi, I believe this young lady attends your academy as well.”

Ushijima calmly looked up from the steaming cup of tea placed carefully in front of him. The usual quietness, the faint stuffiness that resided within his grandmother’s studies and quarters was still prevalent to this day as he joined her for her afternoon tea. The attendants had already been dismissed, waiting outside the hall to bring in lunch once his grandmother was ready.

His legs itched to shift in their resigned position, a sensation he was training himself to forget. These were small, trivial things he had no business entertaining. Once he stepped onto the court, it would mean nothing.

The large television set was fixed to a low but clear volume. Across the screen, an array of young people were being presented in an orderly fashion across a kyudo hall. His grandmother was always watching their segments, but the time slot had changed to coincide with their afternoon tea.

She talked less about his future during these moments now, since the kyudo channel shifted time. He felt, in a childish, small corner of his heart, grateful for that.

“Do you intend to play volleyball beyond your studies, Wakatoshi? There’s more beyond the sport for you within our family.”

His mother had already informed him to consider saying the correct words to placate his grandmother. Ushijima did not know what those words could be. Not if they involved anything other than volleyball.

His left hand twitched over the top of his lap. Ushijima faintly followed the announcer’s words, trying to find what it was his grandmother had meant— there.

A fierce young girl glared hard at the expanse in front of her. Her hakama clung tightly to her body, hair pulled back and out of her face. He wasn’t familiar with her, not personally, but he had a vague sense he might have passed her on more than one occasion after practice—the kyudo hall on campus was close to the volleyball gym.

It was a final shoot off, according to the commentator. His grandmother watched with rapt attention, quietly commenting that she was fond of this girl from Shiratorizawa— she shoots like she means it. He’d never heard his grandmother speak in such a manner over any kind of sport.

Ushijima watched the screen with newfound interest, a touch critical. Kyudo was a quiet sport, not the kind that received acclaim the way volleyball did. He’d never once considered himself partaking in it though he harbored no ill will.

“There,” his grandmother said. “Watch this now, Wakatoshi.”

Ushijima watched you through the screen, your stern, serious face matching that of your competitors as they set up their shot. Their arrow fired, hitting the mark barely off from the center sphere, it seemed it was practically center. The commentator announced what this meant in the shift of points and that you would have to score consecutive kaichus once more to take the entire competition back. Full marks. You had to hit dead center to make up for your team’s single miss.

You moved, elegant and poised. He could understand why his grandmother liked you. You matched all her tastes.

His left hand curled, tighter against his lap.

And then you smiled.

Ushijima felt the world slow, silence flooding across the screen.

Your arrows fired off—again, again, and again. Each time you greeted the shooting range with a smile and left it with a frown, as though the parting, only seconds long, was already too much for your heart to bear. Your opponent remained unfazed, serious, but you smiled each shot, hitting dead center, dead center, bullseye.

The commentator’s voice was flooding with rapt emotion, though they tried to stay impartial. Everyone’s eyes were on you, a second commentator a touch critical over your confidence, hinting arrogance in your grin.

No. Ushijima wanted to correct, almost immediately, entirely entranced. Not arrogance. Not baseless confidence.

You loved it. Kyudo. Shooting—

Every last bit of it.

For a second the screen blurred. Ushijima saw the other end of the court, the ball connecting with his palm, his own lips barely turning up into a near breathless smile, almost fierce—

He wanted to play.

“Good,” his grandmother said. “She will advance next year. If she participated in the individual tournaments, I’m sure she’d do much better. She keeps playing for a team, such a shame.”

“(L/n)-san, it seems as though you were born for the sport!” his eyes quickly turned back to the screen. In an instant the crowd had cleared and you stood, calmly holding your bow as a commentator got your final words on the march. “You’re a true prodigy. What words do you have for any aspiring archers?”

(L/n). Ushijima thought. (L/n) (Y/n). A prodigy? He could imagine so, with the beautiful way you shot. It was as though you were made for the bow.

“I’m not a prodigy,” your voice cut, shooting straight through Ushijima and forcing his complete and utter attention back onto you. “Don’t get me wrong, I think plenty of people are born for this. Maybe you could say I was, if that’s how you want to see it. At the end of the day it’s work though, lots and lots and lots of it.”

You faced the screen, eyes shining, boring straight through Ushijima, as though speaking solely to him, even though you possibly couldn’t be.

“It’s luck,” you said, “I’m lucky nothing’s happened to keep me from being here. I’m lucky my parents haven’t tried to make me stop. Yet, at least. I just got lucky. Kyudo found me. It’s all luck.”

“Ushijima, why do you think we get to stand on this court? People like us?”

Because we’re—

Ushijima felt his chest tighten. His pulse raced, hard against his skin. The itch to move, to run, to play flooded through his entire body. He felt it all, simply by looking at you—the urge to play volleyball a hundred, a thousand times.

“There’s unrest that youths your age will have to focus more on studies instead of pursuing kyudo as a profession. Many find that as a sport, it does not hold up to — ”

“No way,” you said, looking offended. “I’m doing kyudo until I die.”

Ushijima imagined it then, his ball shooting across the court like an arrow, his spike sailing through the air, the same way your arrow pierced the target.

“Now, Wakatoshi,” his grandmother began. “I hear your career forms are going about next year. What exactly will you be writing on yours?”

“...volleyball,” Ushijima said, clear, resounding. His grandmother raised one fine brow, but he faced her, poised, polite, unyielding.

“I will continue playing volleyball.”

He’d remember your name. He’d remember you. If possible, he’d thank you as well. You both attended the same school—a chance would surely come.

For the record:

- The kyudo club ended up getting their funding, enough to see them through for several more years. You came to Ushijima (your boyfriend of one month) sobbing buckets over it and pawing at his jacket while he calmly rubbed your back and congratulated you. The donation was an anonymous one from a rather prestigious family familiar with the school.

- You come to the rest of Ushijima's games, your team makes it through prelims and he gets to watch you through the finals for your prefecture and has plans to go watch you at nationals.

(Spoilers for the latest chapters of the manga, proceed with caution or just end it here if you don't want to see the last headcanon!)

- Romero comments about the cool archery that Ushijima watches in his down time in the locker room. Hoshiumi and Kageyama mumble in surprise that someone like Ushijima could be interested in anything other than volleyball. Ushijima admits it was a very important person he became a fan of first before the sport. "I admired the athlete and then found myself watching."

"Wow, that's unexpected," Hoshiumi took a seat beside Ushijima on the bench. Romero continued to watch over his shoulder, clearly intrigued by the Japanese form of archery style. "Is this woman a pro?"

"Yes," Ushijima said, showing them the screen. Kageyama glanced over, catching the hint of pride in Ushijima's normally settled tone. "She's the best in Japan. She will be at the next Olympics for archery as well, even though she prefers this."

"I've never really watched archery," Kageyama said, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

"I've grown to admire it," Ushijima said. "I'm mostly a fan of the athlete."

"Who is she?" Hoshiumi said, squinting at the screen to look for a name. A wide, bright grin came over your lips and you thrusted your bow into the air. "What's her-"

"She's my girlfriend," Ushijima said calmly, without missing a beat.

Kageyama blinked, looking stunned. Hoshiumi's eyes bulged out of his head. They both looked at each other, jaws dropping.

"She's beautiful!" Romero laughed, clapping Ushijima over the shoulder. "Wakatoshi! Congratualtions! When's the wedding?"

Ushijima looked mildly bothered by the topic. "She says we're still too... young. I don't entirely agree."

"I get you! I get you! Some advice from a married man, you have to reel them in and..."

- You sneezed before the final round, shaking your head with a frown.

(Hope you enjoyed!)

[anistarrose]

Chapter Summary: Why has Kravitz gone unresponsive on all channels? What have Barry and Noelle been planning? Who, if anyone, is left on Taako’s list of people to be trusted? Find out the answers to all these questions and more, right now on Fear The Reaper A Lot, Actually!

Characters: Kravitz, Taako, Barry Bluejeans, Angus McDonald, Magnus Burnsides, Merle Highchurch, Noelle | No-3113, The Raven Queen, The Director | Lucretia, misc. BoB cameos, Julia Burnsides, Garyl

Relationships: Taakitz, Angus McDonald & Taako, Barry Bluejeans & Kravitz, Kravitz & Angus McDonald

(chanting) ghost fight ghost fight ghost fight

***

Kravitz landed ankle-deep in an underground lake, scarcely twenty feet away from the red-robed figure on the shore. Barry’s head was turned, and he gave no sign of noticing Kravitz’s arrival, but it was clear where his focus was directed — a small mob of six freshly animated undead, occupying the full spectrum between zombie and skeleton.

Wasting no time, Kravitz threw himself at the lich, scythe blazing to life with a silent radiance.

Barry had really snapped, if he was out here raising the dead without any wards to hide himself. Even without the summons, this stunt could’ve appeared as a beacon on Kravitz’s radar at any moment, and that wasn’t at all like the Barry he’d known —

Heeding to his nagging suspicions, Kravitz slowed his pace — but Barry still didn’t move, and Kravitz felt his reluctant scythe slice through illusory red cloth, then tangible rotting flesh and brittle bone.

Fuck.

Leaping back from the disguised zombie, he decorporealized as fast as he could — just in time to withstand a light that felt blinding even to his undead senses, burning even to his formless soul. When the sunbursts faded and he returned to his reaper form, dazed, he barely glimpsed a robotic silhouette duck behind a rock formation on the other side of the lake, revealed only by her still-glowing cannon arm.

“Noelle, you backstabber!” Waves of magical force whipped off Kravitz’s scythe, hurtling across the cave and towards her hiding place. “I was rooting for you —”

Jagged spires of ice burst out from the lake, intact for less than a second before intercepting the force wave, and the two spells neutralized each other with an explosion of roaring wind and frozen shrapnel. Before Kravitz could attack again, a skeleton’s clawlike fingers dug deep into his right shoulder, and he launched himself into the air with a flick of his cloak to shake the attacker loose.

But before he could reach his intended altitude, a few yards short of the stalactite-dotted ceiling, something pulled him to a stop — not a bony hand at his shoulder this time, but a fuzzy constricting sensation around his scythe-bearing arm. When he looked down, he saw a web of tangled red threads, impossibly thin yet ensnaring him from wrist to mid-biceps — and every single one of them led back to Barry Bluejeans.

When Kravitz saw the real Barry, floating a few feet above the undead horde on the lake’s near shore, he couldn’t believe he’d fallen for the disguised zombie. This Barry was glowing with power, with desperation, with determination — but his form remained as composed and his expression as unreadable as ever. The only exception was his own right arm, around which his robe had unravelled up to the elbow — not just exposing smoke-black bones, but freeing the threads of that sleeve to go on the offensive, humming with an intensity that made Kravitz’s own bones shake as he tried, unsuccessfully, to decorporealize and escape.

He’d never seen anything like it before — but then again, he’d also never seen Barry come after him, instead of the inverse, and wasn’t that an equally urgent and terrifying mystery to unravel?

“Why, Barry?!” Kravitz shouted. “Why now?!”

Barry narrowed his eyes, and with a flick of a spectral hand, hurtled Kravitz down towards the rocky shore. Channeling another force blast through his free limbs, Kravitz flung himself to the right, but his downward momentum stayed with him, and he plunged into the lake with enough momentum that he hit the bottom with a sickening crunch.

You can give up any time. Barry’s voice echoed inside his head as electricity coursed through the threads, sending both Kravitz’s mind and body reeling. But I never will.

I’m sure you’re right that you won’t give up, Kravitz thought back with all the determination he could muster, still submerged in the lake, but like it or not, that’s one thing we’ve got in common.

Fighting through what must’ve been a potent paralysis spell, he summoned his scythe into his unrestricted hand and swung it at the threads, expecting to slice cleanly through most of them — but his blade was met with a fierce resistance, and though sparks of red and blue magic exploded from the point of contact, he didn’t feel a single thread snap.

He did feel Barry recoil, letting out a psychic scream that would’ve haunted a mortal for months, and drawing the threads back into his robe to let Kravitz free — which would be cause for celebration, if only it wasn’t supposed to be impossible. No part of a lich’s essence should withstand a reaper’s most sacred weapon — it was simply the way the world worked, the way the world was supposed to work.

Barry was stunned and convulsing, true — but the undead that Kravitz knew didn’t go through death throes, either, and Kravitz could only assume that the being he once would’ve called a lich was on the verge of recollecting himself.

What is Barry made of? What is he, and what happens if I try to reap a whole robe’s worth of those threads? Can I even reap him? Do I have any chance of winning this fight?

“Mister Bluejeans!” Noelle shouted from behind some stalagmite, but she was rapidly descending on the list of Kravitz’s top concerns.

As he burst to the surface, seeing Barry regain his composure, Kravitz began to chant as quickly as he could, offering a prayer to the Raven Queen and infusing the water of the lake with her power. When Barry’s eyes — gleaming white within a faint halo of blue — fixated on him again, Kravitz was ready, and he tore open a rift from the bottom of the lake to a point just above Barry’s head.

The ensuing deluge passed straight through Barry’s lich form with the telltale hiss of celestial magic burning away at an undead soul, and Kravitz allowed himself a relieved grin as Barry vanished into the waterfall. No matter how resistant Barry was to his scythe, there were always at least a few tricks that could hurt any lich under Faerun’s sun —

Then the crimson silhouette within the waterfall raised a hand, and the sapphire-blue edges of Kravitz’s portal turned an ashen gray as the rift shriveled and closed with a pop. Barry emerged from the water with hardly a shudder, wisps of magical steam rising off a red robe that was otherwise no worse for wear.

“Sorry to disappoint you,” said Barry, sounding genuinely apologetic, “but I spent the last few cycles building up an immunity to holy water.”

He extended his hands, firing a bolt of necrotic energy from each of his ten fingertips, but Kravitz twirled his scythe with a flick of his hand, reforming it as a shield emblazoned with swooping raven wings. Each bolt ricocheted off it in a different direction, and Barry clenched his hands into fists, channeling the spell’s residual energy into two spheres of consolidated dark magic. He hurled them in mirror-image arcs, both circling back towards Kravitz from behind —

With another flick of Kravitz’s wrist, his shield became two identical lightweight scythes, each intercepting a different sphere before the whirlwind of blades propelled Kravitz towards the ceiling, equal with Barry’s altitude. Expecting Barry to flee, but not about to risk an opening going to waste, Kravitz charged — but Barry snapped his fingers, and two discarded femurs from the bottom of the lake flew to his side, transforming into a pair of crimson scimitars and crossing to catch the blade of Kravitz’s first scythe.

The blow from the second scythe was more precise, and sent the scimitars hurtling across the cave, but Barry clapped his hands together, and they flew back to his defense, exchanging a flurry of increasingly rapid blows with Kravitz. One of them grazed the cuff of his jacket, and as he dove out of the way, he deliberately bashed his sapphire blades together, releasing a sunburst of blue light — and more importantly, a wave of thunderous force to fracture the scimitars, which Kravitz shattered with one final swing of his scythe.

He returned his focus to Barry himself, and realized — too late — that a single red thread of his sleeve had once again unraveled. Kravitz preemptively turned skeletal, surrounding himself with ghostly flames he hoped would make Barry think twice about trying to restrain him — but instead, Barry swung the stray thread towards the ceiling, where it cleaved through stalactites like a red-hot wire through butter, and a barrage of newly-freed spears rained down on Kravitz.

Only one struck him — barely bruising his shoulder in the fraction of a second before he decorporealized, and his soul-light possessed the stalactite itself. Barry summoned two more elongated bones to his side, but before he could transform them into scimitars, Kravitz hurtled his new form at them with such force that they crashed into the damp cave wall, shattering both the bones and stalactite while releasing Kravitz’s soul.

“It’s time to explain yourself!” Kravitz shouted, rematerializing and conjuring a dual-bladed scythe. Explain your lichdom, the Grand Relics, Taako’s unexplained deaths and missing memories —

With both hands, he spun the scythe like a baton, generating a vortex of blue lightning drawn from the essence of the Astral Plane itself. “This ends NOW!”

Undaunted, Barry shrugged. “Y’know, I did try to warn you the apocalypse was imminent,” he said nonchalantly, and melted into the shadows cast upon the wall.

The lightning pulverized stalactites across the cave, rendering even its darkest corners in brilliant blue light, but Barry had retreated too far into the earth for the magic to touch him — and in a way, it was almost reassuring, if only because the rest of this encounter had felt so alien.

This was the Barry that Kravitz knew, the Barry that would casually say something ominous before disengaging and vanishing off the map for the next three to eight months — but the moment of reassurance didn’t last long, because Barry reappeared on the lakeshore with his undead minions a moment later, and no, Kravitz was not falling for that again.

His scythe transformed into a longbow, a sapphire arrow already nocked. When he let it fly, it pierced the illusory red robe without a sound, and Barry’s deception vanished with a puff of smoke.

Where did you really go, Bluejeans?

He glimpsed some kind of shadow at the bottom of the lake, but before he could identify it, the surface froze over — and then, with a mighty creak, it rose, first as rapid-fire spears that Kravitz dodged with ease, but then as staggered subsections that formed a staircase — or as the terrestrial skeletons and zombies saw it, a perfect opportunity to charge at Kravitz.

The three who lead the assault fell in a volley of just as many arrows, but before the rest could arrive, Kravitz swung his bow around himself in an arc, transforming it back into a scythe just in time to strike the staircase with maximum force and shatter the ice. The remaining undead plummeted into the lake of still-blessed water, dissolving in a flash of light and a plume of steam.

“Not as resilient as your creator, eh?” Kravitz quipped, but not quite loud enough to miss the crackle of electricity behind him, and he somersaulted in midair to evade a crimson lightning bolt. Undeterred, Barry fired again, then a third time with two bolts at once, but Kravitz had no trouble dodging — though he realized, not a moment too soon, that Barry’s otherwise ineffective spells were driving him backwards and down, towards the rocky shore where Barry had raised the dead.

Not so fast, Kravitz thought, and plunged his scythe into the wall. Halfway across the cave, a massive blue crystal burst out from among the stalactites, missing Barry by a hair — but as he absconded, more sapphires tore through the cave ceiling, cutting him off at every angle until he was trapped in a cage of jagged crystalline fangs. Kravitz trembled from the exertion, bones rattling beneath his skin, but he didn’t have to maintain the spell for long — because through the translucent sapphires, he saw Barry’s silhouette clap two lightning-wreathed hands together, and an explosion of thunder pulverized every crystal in the cave. Kravitz morphed his scythe into a shield just in time to deflect the brunt of it, but the sheer force sent him flying backwards, and he landed on his feet on the lakeshore, exhausted but alert.

“I really am sorry, Kravitz. You seem like a decent guy.” Barry’s words echoed across the cave, making it impossible to tell if the slight distortion was coming from his own voice or simply the acoustics. “I’d always hoped that — that somehow, it wouldn’t turn out like this —”

“Oh, that’s real rich coming from you, Barry J. ‘created the Animus Bell and picked a fight with the Grim Reaper’ Bluejeans,” Kravitz retorted, switching his shield back into a scythe with none of the usual dramatic flourish. “You’re talking like my fate is sealed, but you haven’t won yet —”

Kravitz paused — because for the first time in twelve years of hunting Barry Bluejeans and ten years of knowing him, he could perfectly read the expression on Barry’s cowled semblance of a face. It was triumph, clear as day, and colored mainly by relief…

But not without an edge to it, a telltale hint of smugness.

“No, I think I have won,” Barry said. “Remember — you’re still outnumbered.”

A bolt of scorching light lanced down from above, rupturing the ground before Kravitz’s feet with all the red-hot fury of a meteor impact. He flung himself backwards, trying to escape the brunt of the attack — but the explosion hurtled him to the very back of the cave, where his spine met the cold limestone wall at high velocity, and he toppled to the ground before he could get his bearings.

“No,” he whispered. “No, I’m not outnumbered.” His ears rang, and lights danced across all but the most peripheral corners of his vision, but he still pulled himself to his feet, bracing himself against the wall. “I am the Raven Queen’s champion, and she will not let you escape me again —”

He extended an arm, to summon back the scythe he’d lost his grip on…

But for the first ever time, after more than eight centuries in the Queen’s undead flock, his scythe didn’t heed his call.

He could see it on the ground, barely ten feet away and undamaged as far as he could tell. But it didn’t move an inch, much less spring back into his hand — and only then, for the first time since arriving in the cave, did Kravitz notice the dark gray runes carved all around him, separating him from his weapon.

A trap, which had been Barry’s endgame all along. A trap, which Kravitz had flung himself right into.

Noelle floated to ground-level, hovering next to Barry and exchanging a few words that Kravitz’s ears still rang too much to hear. Making the most of their distraction, Kravitz lunged for his scythe with nothing to lose — but a shimmering, opalescent barrier sprung up from the runes, and he bounced off of it, shoulder first.

Barry glanced at him, and just sighed — which manifested, for a breathless entity made up of pure magic, as something more like a low electric crackle. “This was how I didn’t want it turn out, Kravitz.”

Kravitz ignored him, closing his eyes and raising his fingers to his temples. My Queen, I’m outmatched. I beseech you —

He ceased his prayer, his eyes flying open. It was wrong, all wrong, the terrifying gut-churning kind of wrong — and worst of all, he knew exactly why.

No electric blue buzz had reached him when he’d prayed to his goddess. It would be one thing if the Raven Queen hadn’t replied, but Kravitz hadn’t even been able to open a channel of communication in the first place.

And his scythe, he now realized, was not damaged nor unresponsive. He simply no longer had the ability to summon it — because The Raven Queen, and all the powers she’d graced him with, were completely cut off by Barry’s spell.

For the first time in countless lifetimes, Kravitz was alone.

***

Taako jumped when he heard the second knock of the day, expecting a barrage of accusations from the Director to follow — but it was Angus’s voice, not Lucretia’s, that called out to him a moment later.

“Sir? Do you mind if I come in? There’s something I need to talk to you about!”

Taako pressed his ear to the door. He couldn’t hear anyone else in the hallway, but that didn’t mean they weren’t there. “Talk about what, Agnes?”

“Oh, uh… I’d rather not say while I’m standing out here. It’s kinda personal…” Angus lowered his voice. “And you know the drill, prying eyes and ears.”

Taako’s heart skipped a beat — because Angus McDonald, light of his life and the closest thing to a son he could imagine ever having, knowing information too dangerous to speak out loud — was scarier than any apocalyptic nightmares or even malfunctioning arrows.

Pointing his Umbra Staff at the door and tapping his forehead, Taako extended his sense of sight outside, verifying that the hallway was deserted — aside, of course, from one innocent-looking boy detective. With that information confirmed, he cracked the door open and grabbed Angus by the vest, yanking him inside before Angus could even get a protest in edgewise.

“You bring your Stone of Farspeech?” Taako asked, fidgeting with locks both magical and arcane. “Power it down, right now.”

“But — but I’m waiting for a text back from —”

Taako snapped his fingers, silencing the Stone in Angus’s pocket. “Well, suck it up and wait a little longer, kid, because the Director’s listened in on me through those things before and I’m sure she’ll do it again — so how’s that for prying ears? I’m about to be in enough trouble as is, I can’t let you get implicated too —”

Angus glanced around the room, gaze lingering on the ruins of the coffee table and the ashen footprints tread across the rug. “Sir, are you… okay? You’re acting like Caleb Cleveland whenever a case-changing discovery sends him spiraling into paranoia —”

“I — okay, look. The day got off to a rough start, but — but you worry way too much about me, kid.” How had Taako already fucked up this badly, confirming there was a conspiracy afoot and getting the kid invested? He should’ve just begged Angus to stay quiet, to stay away from him.

“I — I just can’t tell you what’s happening, Angus, for your own good! I shouldn’t have even let you in here in the first place, when I don’t know what’s going on or how to protect —”

With a hug, Angus knocked the wind out of Taako’s lungs and the wizard hat off of his head. “Sir, I found something big too! I didn’t know how to face it alone, but I couldn’t find Noelle, and Kravitz hasn’t texted me back —”

He smiled. “And I came to you, because I’m sure we can figure this out together. You just have to trust —”

“I trust you implicitly, Ango. You know this,” Taako blurted out. “I trust you with my life.

“I suspected as much, though it’s nice to hear you say it.” Angus met his eyes. “But I meant that you have to trust yourself with mine.”

Taako closed his eyes, and saw Glamour Springs. Forty people, fatally poisoned.

“I need to know what you know, sir. It might put me in danger — but there’s no one else I’d rather have watching my back. I’ll be okay, I really will — I believe in us!”

Phandalin. Eight-hundred and fifty people, all incinerated.

“And if it helps, sir… I trust you. Both implicitly and rationally.”

The return to Wave Echo Cave in search of liches. Angus imperiled, but alive.

Taako wasn’t sure when he’d first started hugging Angus back, but he hugged a little tighter, just for good measure. “I just don’t want to put any more pressure on you than I already have, little guy. Your job’s hard work, and I keep making it harder —”

“I know my limits better now. Kravitz helped me with that,” Angus assured him. “I’ll tell you if it ever gets to be too much, I promise.”

“Yeah, you better.” Taako took a deep breath, then another, coming a little closer to spilling the truth with each inhale. “So, I guess… I’d better tell you about the second Voidfish.”

“I knew it!” Angus exclaimed, but lowered his voice as he went on, seeing Taako flinch. “I knew the Bureau wasn’t telling us everything! How did you figure it out?”

“Garyl helped — he’s immune, apparently,” Taako whispered. “He was making me paranoid, so I unsummoned him — but earlier today, he said I lost a bunch of my memories twelve years ago, and it might’ve all been Lucretia’s master plan —”

“Twelve years?” Angus echoed. “Kravitz said your bounties showed up twelve years ago, at the same time as Barry and Lup — and believe it or not, also the Director and Davenport, of all people!”

Taako collapsed onto the couch, for what felt like the tenth time that morning. “I don’t think my brain can physically unpack all of this, so I’m just gonna ask — when did Kravitz say this? Have you talked to him recently?”

“This was just earlier this morning! He was the person I was expecting to text me back, actually — but did something happen?”

Taako stomach dropped. “Did — did he tell you anything that showed up as static?”

“He did! Something about your bounties and the relics that I just couldn’t grasp! That was how I figured out there was another —”

“Shit,” Taako muttered. “I hate to break it to you, Angus, but our little rogue detective bureau’s first order of business might be figuring out what the hell happened to Kravitz.”

Angus gasped. “You think some necromancers captured him? Or — or the Director?”

“I don’t know! Maybe both — maybe Lucretia is the evil necromancer behind all of this! Or maybe it’s Davenport, or it’s Barry after all, or whoever the hell Lup is —”

His umbrella unfurled in his lap, its handle swinging up to hit him in the chin before it tumbled to the ground. “Hey, learn to read the room! You think I have time to deal with you causing problems on purpose right now?!”

Angus pursed his lips. “Where did you get that Umbra Staff anyway? Seems like it’s more trouble than it’s worth.”

“Oh, you don’t know the half of the trouble this thing has given me, Ango. I found it on the original Wave Echo Cave trip — kinda near the Relic, actually. Former owner was just a skeleton in a… oh shit, that’s right. A skeleton in a fucking red robe.”

Angus just stared at him, dumbfounded, for ten full seconds before he pulled out his notebook and jotted the information down. “You and the other Reclaimers are terrible at passing on relevant information, you know that?”

“In my defense, I have severe undiagnosed memory loss!” Taako shot back. “And it’s been, like, eight months? Ten? See, I can’t even remember how long it’s been!”

“Wait. Hang on.” Angus sat down his notepad and closed his eyes. “If the Red Robes made the Grand Relics… you told me that Barry has mentioned Lup by name, correct?”

Taako nodded, then upon realizing Angus’s eyes were still closed, he spoke up. “Yeah.”

“So we can reasonably assume Lup’s a Red Robe, too. She’s been missing for ten years, last seen in Wave Echo Cave — and I would hazard a guess, specifically in the part of the cave that housed the Phoenix Fire Gauntlet. The part of the cave where you found your Umbra Staff.”

“And the worst times the umbrella has ever malfunctioned,” Taako realized aloud, heart pounding, “were when either Kravitz or I was about to hurt Barry.”

“Your staff doesn’t just absorb arcane foci, does it?” Angus gasped. “It absorbed an entire lich. We thought we’d never find Lup — but she’s been under our noses all along.”

***

“Barry, how? How did you do this?”

Noelle was still looking at Kravitz, but Barry had turned away, seemingly with no purpose in mind besides cultivating a sullen appearance.

“Took some inspiration from an entity I already knew could cut off planes from each other, and gods from their emissaries,” he muttered after a few seconds. “Not too proud of it, but you forced my hand.”

There was the confirmation Kravitz had been looking for, yet dreading — because Kravitz needed a font of magic, needed the Raven Queen, not just to fight but to exist in any capacity. His soul would burn out, drained by the exertion of maintaining physical form, without a direct line to either her or her dominion of the Astral Plane — gods, his soul should’ve burnt out already, within seconds of being sealed in.

“No, I mean — how am I still here, Barry?” How am I still half-alive?

“Arcane core buried a few feet beneath you.” Barry’s voice was practically monotone, and the concerned frown on Noelle’s display didn’t escape Kravitz’s notice. “Should fuel your soul at least until the end of the world. Maybe longer.”

He shuddered, though he kept it together — and unlikely as he was to admit it, even Kravitz was starting to feel a little worried for the lich who’d just spared his not-quite-life.

“You could’ve killed me like this at any point,” he pointed out. “During any of those ten years. Why didn’t you, if I’ve been such an impediment to your master plan —”

Barry whirled around, teleporting to a spot right outside the barrier with a clap of thunder and a spray of sparks. “You think this was a type of magic I wanted to mess with? You think I did this for my own sake?! I only did this so you wouldn’t kill my family!”

He and Kravitz stood face to face-shaped void — and there was something unsteady about that void and the lights inside, something telling Kravitz that if Barry had a true face at the moment, his expression would’ve just crumpled.

“Your family,” Kravitz echoed. “The other Red Robes. Magnus, Merle, and… Taako.”

“I’d do this all again to protect them,” Barry rasped. “No matter how convinced you are that you’re in the right, I can’t let you reap them —”

“I’m not going to reap them!” Kravitz blurted out, and the threads of Barry’s robe froze in place.

“What?!”

Kravitz raised his hand. “I swear I won’t! On my oath to the Raven Queen!”

Barry went not just perfectly still, but utterly silent, until Noelle spoke up. “Why not?!”

“We worked out a deal! I assumed you heard —” Before Kravitz knew it, he was laughing, even well aware that it made the lich in the room look like the sane one by comparison. “Gods, Barry. I really thought you were some kind of omniscient memory-wiping mastermind, leading a massive conspiracy with informants everywhere — but you didn’t even know I was letting the Reclaimers go! You’re just a family man who happens to be undead and a colossal pain in my ass! I can’t believe this!”

“What — what do you know about the memory wiping?” Barry finally spoke up, softer than Kravitz had ever heard him. “About the Voidfish?”

“Apparently not enough,” Kravitz admitted, lowering himself onto the floor of the cave and crossing his legs. “But… do you think could you tell me about it?”

Barry just stared at him for a few seconds, eventually glancing at Noelle, as if to check that she was just as dumfounded as he was. Then he turned back to Kravitz, and with a shrug, replied: “…I guess?”

Kravitz drummed his fingers on the ground — absorbing and channeling a trace of the arcane core’s aura, all while hoping Barry interpreted it as an absentminded tic, not one of deep and deliberate concentration. “If it’s not too much of a tangent, then literally any information on the apocalypse besides ‘it’s imminent’ would be nice.”

“Well, then,” Barry said slowly, “I guess I should start at the beginning. I wasn’t always a lich — I guess that was obvious, ‘cause that’s just how liches work — but I also wasn’t always a necromancer. I was totally fascinated with death, don’t get me wrong, and sometimes I dabbled in true necromancy against my better judgement, but it was… about as discouraged in my homeworld as it was here. So instead, I dedicated my life to studying interplanar travel.”

“Your homeworld,” Kravitz repeated, “which is… different from the Raven Queen’s domain? Different from this planar system?!”

“Probably shoulda led with that, huh?” Barry muttered. “Yeah, I’m technically an alien, and for a long time, I worked for an alien space agency. We searched for signs of life, or even mere existence, outside our own planar system, but we kept hitting dead ends — until a light we almost mistook for a meteor fell from the sky, and changed everything. We called it the Light of Creation, and it…”

He sighed. “You could say it enthralled us. It illuminated these underlying mechanisms of not just magic, but broadly speaking, interactions — between things, between worlds, between people. We called them bonds, and with the way we were studying them so single-mindedly, it didn’t even take us a year to build a spaceship that could run on the things. Seven of us flew that ship off the material plane on her maiden voyage, and — well, you can read all our names straight from your book of bounties. Our captain was Davenport, and Lucretia was our chronicler, while Merle was the biologist, and Magnus — oh, Magnus was the best security system that a team of five wizards and a cleric could wish for. I was chief science officer, of course, and… Taako and Lup, the twins, were the arcanists.”

“Oh my gods,” Kravitz whispered. “Taako — I had Taako hunting Lup. He thought his life depended on —”

“He didn’t know.” Barry shuddered, red smoke escaping from his mouth as he spoke. “Neither of you did.”

Faced with any other lich, Kravitz would’ve braced himself for a breakdown and ensuing fallout, but today, he stayed seated to watch as calmly as he could — and sure enough, the smoke faded to a few harmless wisps as Barry went on.

“Sorry, I — I’m getting ahead of myself. The mission, the Starblaster mission, it was only supposed to last two months. But in our obsession with the Light, with the spaceship it made possible, we missed… warning signs leading up to our departure. Storm clouds hanging overhead, colors losing their luster, hell, even eyes in the sky and in the Ethereal Plane. When the seven of us took flight, we thought we were explorers — but in the blink of an eye, we became refugees, because right after we took flight, the Hunger descended on our world and devoured it whole.”

He must’ve noticed a shell-shocked expression on Kravitz’s face, because he went on: “Yeah, it’s a lot, even when you’ve had decades to process it. We fled to another planar system, and the Light of Creation followed us there — but so did the Hunger, and a year after arriving, it consumed yet another world without mercy. Magnus died fighting it, but I’m sure you see where this is going — when we materialized in the next planar system, he was as good as new, and the cycle repeated. We figured out that as long as one of us escaped the Hunger on the ship, anyone who died that year would return to life, and that if we could escape with the Light, the Hunger would only damage the plane instead of consuming it — but recovering the Light was about as consistent as rolling a pair of dice you hadn’t rigged, and the Hunger kept gaining on us.”

“And this,” Kravitz assumed, “was when you started practicing necromancy?”

“Yeah. I guess I could play it off as, I dunno, something I studied to understand how we kept getting revived every year, but… I’m not gonna lie to you. I was calling myself a necromancer by the third cycle because it was dangerous, and we needed dangerous magic to stand a chance against the Hunger.” A fondness crept into Barry’s voice, and Kravitz watched a small tear in his robe sew itself back together. “Lup and I didn’t become liches until decades later — just like we took our time with most things, I guess — and that was for power, too. But there weren’t any blood sacrifices, or any of that traditional ‘store your soul in an artifact of dark magic’ stuff — we powered our lich forms with bonds, the same things that powered our spaceship. We did it with the help of our family, to protect our family, and I’d do it all again. And Lup… I know she’d feel the same, if she were here.”

“Were you close? You and Lup, I mean?”

The lights of Barry’s not-quite-face blinked. “Gotta say, bud, after everything I just told you, that is not the question I thought you’d have for me. But… yeah, you could say that. We were in love for the better part of a century, and if you’ve ever seen me… not fall apart when I should have, it was because I was thinking of her. Reminding myself that if I gave up, then everything we’d worked for would be the next to come undone, and even worse, I’d — I’d never have a chance to see her again.”

“You don’t know where she is either,” Kravitz realized, and only noticed he’d spoken out loud when he saw Barry shrink backwards and wrap his arms around his chest, his robe folding in on itself like red light drawn towards a spluttering black hole.

“Wow, Kravitz,” Noelle spoke up, digitized voice dripping with sarcasm as she glared at him. “Way to not ask sensitive questions to the guy you just learned was powered by emotions —”

“I’m sorry!” Kravitz exclaimed, and he honestly meant it. “I wasn’t thinking —”

“No, I’ll be alright,” Barry insisted, with a confidence that suggested he’d survived worse breakdowns. No longer radiating lightning nor anguish, he floated right up to the opalescent barrier, even resting a hand on it. “You know, the Hunger’s kinda like this spell I used to trap you, ‘cept on steroids. It cuts off all the planes in a system before devouring them, but always goes for the Celestial Plane first, rendering the bonds between god and emissary unusable — and it’s done that so many times, Kravitz, it’s consumed so many deities and added them to its number. It’s impossible to defeat that kind of army, that never-ending march of fallen gods from fallen worlds older than memory — but Lup and I, we came up with a new plan. We knew the Hunger needed the Light to persist — so we hid that Light, splitting it in seven, to try and starve the Hunger out.”

He sighed. “And that’s how the refugees of my homeworld nearly destroyed yours with the Grand Relics.”

Though Barry had only confirmed his suspicions, Kravitz’s jaw still dropped. I was right. And Taako still has no idea. I need to tell him —

“We were enthralled, all of us, with the idea of finally stopping the Hunger,” Barry continued, drifting back from the barrier. “Not all of us in the same way — Lucretia had an idea that was different altogether, equally bad as it was — and when we descended from the sky to introduce the Relics, like demigods about to be undone by our hubris, we enthralled your world with conflict and bloodshed. Because the Light of Creation, at least in the form of the Relics we made from it, is a poison disguised as an antidote. It will always be… hungered for.”

He chuckled bitterly. “And here I am, confessing my family’s crimes to the one person in this universe who knows the cost of our actions better than anyone. Kravitz, on behalf of all of us — I’m so sorry that you and your world bore the consequences of our mess. I’m sure your job was an awful lot simpler before we showed up —”

“It was,” Kravitz agreed, “but maybe not for the reason you think. You know, before the Relic Wars, souls almost always retired to the Astral Plane without resistance… but victims of the Relics never rested quietly. I’m no stranger to ghosts with unfinished business, of course, but so many of them were still enthralled, as you put it — and before the wars dwindled out, there were constant rebellions and escape attempts that plunged the Astral Plane into chaos.” He paused. “Speaking of which. I always wondered why the Relic Wars ended when they did.”

“Good question.” Barry sighed. “Out of seven explorers, you know how many had the foresight to realize how dangerous the Grand Relics were? It was just one — Lucretia, the youngest, who knew before anyone else that we were about to poison this world. She had an alternate plan to defeat the Hunger, and though its side effects were just as unacceptable, she was in denial of those effects just like I was in denial about the Relics’ consequences. I — I hate talking about her like this, she’s family to me just like the rest of them, but — she needed the Light in one piece for her plan, so not long after Lup went missing trying to bring an end to the Relic Wars, Lucretia went and — she fed our mission archives to the Voidfish. A being that consumes information, and makes it incomprehensible unless you’ve been specifically inoculated… or, unless you’re undead.”

“So your family, and the world, both forgot the Grand Relics,” Kravitz finished. “Except you and me.”

“Exactly. But Lucretia still needed to collect all seven, and… well, there were only seven people in the world who could resist their thrall, and that was because they’d spent a century building up an immunity. And Fischer, that’s what Magnus named the Voidfish, eventually had a kid — or so I assume, because I don’t know where else Lucretia would get a baby alien jellyfish whose home plane was destroyed. Point is, Luce fed the baby certain things she needed kept secret, then inoculated Magnus, Merle, and Taako from the parent, so she could set them up as Reclaimers in her Bureau of Balance —”

“Wait, you mean that — that Lucretia from my list of bounties, and the Director I keep hearing about from Taako, are the same person?!”

“Yeah.” Barry nodded. “Do you know if Davenport’s also with the Bureau, by any chance? I haven’t seen him in — in a really long time.”

“If I’d known where he was, I would’ve arrested him for dying eleven times,” Kravitz replied without thinking, regretting it instantly when Barry glowered at him. “I mean, I would have before having this conversation, but not now! I swear!”

“You’re not bound to your oath while you’re cut off from your goddess,” Barry pointed out. “And I dunno why I just told you that, though I guess you seem like the kinda guy who’d stick to your word anyway —”

“Let’s backtrack to Lucretia,” Kravitz cut in. “What was her plan to stop the Hunger? Why was it so unacceptable, and… and why does she need the Light?”

Barry looked away, answering in a slowly fading voice.“She wanted to starve the Hunger out too, just like Lup and I were thinking. But she wanted to use the Light to create a shield around this planar system — and I know that sounds great in practice, but any barrier strong enough to keep out the Hunger would sever all this world’s extraplanar bonds. It would keep the Hunger out, but everything inside would be reduced to ash, and Lucretia… never wanted to believe that. I have to assume she still doesn’t believe it, and will go ahead with her shield as soon as she reclaims the last two Relics. The Temporal Chalice, and the Animus Bell.”

“Well, shit,” Kravitz muttered, earning a grunt of agreement from Barry. “So our options — our only three options are being turned to ash, fighting a losing battle with an eldritch abomination, and continuing to let the Relics tear this world apart?”

“It’s… a little too late for that last one, actually.” Barry shook his head. “The Hunger’s got a lock on our planar system now — Noelle told me she saw stars disappearing, and that means we’re down to a matter of months.”

“Oh gods, that’s why there’s fewer stars? I thought I was going crazy!” Kravitz gasped, turning to Noelle. “Barry told you all this as well?”

Noelle bobbed up and down slightly, presumably to indicate a nod. “He filled me in on the highlights. Then a bit more detail ‘bout the Hunger, when I asked him just a couple hours ago if he knew why the constellations looked off.”

“I can’t believe this,” Kravitz sighed. “I should’ve just asked you to explain yourself years ago! You could’ve cleared up so much —”

“I should’ve tried to tell you more,” Barry admitted, “but the truth sounds so insane that I didn’t think you’d believe the whole unfiltered thing. Hell, I’m amazed you believe me right now —”

“Uh, actually, about that…” Kravitz smiled sheepishly, instinctively crossing his arms behind his back to hide his soon-to-be-implicated spellcasting hands. “I appreciate you leaving me some magic when you cut me off from the Raven Queen, but in the interest of… honesty, you should know that before I joined the Queen’s retinue, I was a bard. My powers are limited right now, since I don’t have an instrument on me, and even with one I wouldn’t have expected this to work — but a couple minutes ago, I cast Zone of Truth on you.” He shrugged. “Being a last-ditch effort as it was, I kind of assumed you’d notice it —”

Barry threw his head back with a guffaw of laughter, and his hood fell to his shoulders, unveiling a mass of dark smoke that resembled a mullet. “Oh, Merle would be so proud!”

“Is that supposed to be a compliment?” Noelle wisecracked, and then all of them were laughing at poor Merle’s expense, just like three old friends who’d never, ever tried to kill or imprison or backstab each other.

“Yes, it is a compliment,” Barry chuckled, “but don’t you dare tell him I got got by a Zone of Truth, or I’ll never hear the end of it!”

“I, uh, I’ve got one more backstory question, if you don’t mind,” Kravitz began as his laughter died down, and Barry’s attention immediately returned to him. The lich was easier to read with his cowl down, revealing cues like the quizzical, attentive tilt of his head.

“Yeah? Shoot.”

“I saved this one for last because I’m asking in… well, mostly my own self-interest…” Kravitz took a breath. “But does Taako have any, um, still-relevant love interests he lost his memories of?”

“Oh my gods, Kravitz…”

“I like him a lot, even though it’s still early — but I’d feel awful replacing a partner he was ripped away from, especially under these circumstances —”

“A truce with the Grim Reaper is one thing!” Barry shouted to no one in particular. “But being the Grim Reaper’s brother-in-law? Being Taako’s best man when he and the Grim Reaper get married?!”

Kravitz beamed. “Okay, I’ll take that as a no!”

Still chuckling, Barry silently snapped his fingers. A dozen runes flashed before going dark forever, and a moment later, the opalescent barrier faded away.

“I tell you what, bud,” he said. “You help me save all of reality, and I won’t even give you the shovel talk.”

[the-desolated-quill]

Quill’s Swill - The Worst Of 2019

Congratulations! You’ve made it through another year! You’ve faced many obstacles and overcome many adversaries to arrive here, at the dawn of a new decade. So as we prepare to leave the 2010s and make our way into the 2020s, lets take a look back at the challenges and hardships of 2019. And by challenges and hardships, I of course mean shitty fiction and media.

Yes, it’s time for yet another edition of Quill’s Swill, where we mark the absolute worst stories that the industry had to offer over the past year and proceed to tear them to shreds. Think of it as like voiding your bowels before the New Year.

As always remember that this is my personal, subjective opinion. If you happen to like any of the things on this list, that’s fine. More power to you. Go make your own list. Also bear in mind I haven’t seen everything 2019 has to offer due to various other commitments. So as much as I really, really want to, I can’t put Avengers Endgame on here. I know what happens. It sounds fucking terrible, but I haven’t seen the film, so it wouldn’t be fair of me to put it on the list, even though it would most definitely deserve it.

...

Seriously, read the synopsis of Endgame on Wikipedia some time. It’s like fanfic written by a nine year old. It’s truly shocking. And now it’s the highest grossing movie of all time? Give me strength.

All In A Row

Don’t you just hate it when you’re expected to parent your autistic child? Like actually show love and care and consideration to your offspring. Look at him, expecting you to treat him like a human being. Selfish bastard! If only there was a play that explored the horrors of having to be a decent person to your own flesh and blood and how objectively awful it is. If you’re one of those people, then the play All In A Row will be right up your street.

Premiering on the 14th February at Southwark Playhouse in London, All In A Row was a total shitshow to say the least. The playwright, Alex Oates, claimed to have ten years of experience working with autistic children, which you wouldn’t have believed if you saw the play as the autistic child at the centre of the play, Lawrence, seemed more like a wild animal than a person. In fact two of the main characters compare him to a dog. And if you thought this wasn’t dehumanising enough, Lawrence isn’t even a child. He’s a puppet. Yes, it’s as bad as it sounds.

All In A Row seems to place all of the blame for the family’s predicament on the autistic child, who’s presented as barely functional, bordering on bestial. There’s no effort to really make an emotional connection with Lawrence (how can you? He’s a puppet!) as the play instead focuses on how this kid has effectively ruined this family’s life because of his autism and aggressive behaviour. Speaking as someone on the autism spectrum, I can say quite confidently that this play is fucking despicable. Badly written, badly conceived, insulting and downright mean spirited. I wouldn’t want Oates looking after my autistic children, that’s for damn sure.

Anthem

EA is back and this time they’re dragging the critical darling that is BioWare down with them.

Anthem was a desperate attempt to jump aboard the ‘live service’ bandwagon, trying to replicate the success of other video games like Overwatch, Destiny and Warframe. They failed spectacularly. The game itself had more bugs than A Bug’s Life, loot drops were often stingy and unrewarding, loading times were farcically long, and the story and worldbuilding was fucking pitiful. Oh yeah, and if you played it on PS4, there was a good chance it could permanently damage it. Thankfully I have a uni friend with an Xbox One and they allowed me to play the game on that. It was a crushing disappointment, especially coming fresh off the heels of Mass Effect Andromeda, which didn’t exactly set the world on fire back in 2017.

It didn’t help that EA’s reputation was in tatters thanks to the lootbox controversy of Star Wars Battlefront II and having to try and win back the trust of fans, but worse still reports began to service of what went on behind the scenes at BioWare during the game’s development. Apparently the game’s story and mechanics kept changing every other day as the creative directors and writers didn’t have the faintest idea what kind of game they wanted to make, and the developers were often forced to work obscenely long work hours in abusive crunch periods to get the game finished for launch. It got so bad that, according to an article on Kotaku, some members of the team had to leave for weeks or even months at a time to recover from ‘stress casualties.’ 

To think this was the same company that gave us Mass Effect, Dragon Age and Knights Of The Old Republic. Thank God that Obsidian Entertainment is there to pick up the slack on the RPG front because I think it’s safe to assume that BioWare won’t be around for much longer at this rate.

The Lion King (2019 remake)

Here we go. Yet another live action remake of a Disney classic. Excpet it’s not live action, is it? Well... it’s live action in the sense that Dinosaur was live action (remember that film? Don’t worry if you don’t. No one does). Real locations but CGI characters. Millions of dollars spent on cutting edge tech to create photo realistic animals... and the film ends up duller than a bowl of porridge that really likes trainspotting.

It’s not just the fact that The Lion King remake is yet another soulless cash grab from the House of Mouse, it’s also the fact that it’s done really badly that upsets me. The Lion King works as an animated film. Bright colourful images, over the top song and dance sequences and vibrant character designs. As a ‘live action’ film, it just looks awkward and stilted. None of the animals are very expressive, leaving it up to the poor voice actors to carry the film, and to cap it all off the CGI isn’t even all that convincing in my opinion. At no point did I look at Simba and go ‘oh yeah, he looks like a real lion.’ It’s so obviously fake. In fact it reminds me of those early 00s movies like Cats & Dogs or Stuart Little where you see the jaws of the talking animals moving up and down like some messed up ventriloquist act or something. And here’s me thinking cinema has evolved past this.

BBC’s The War Of The Worlds

Remember Peter Harness? That guy who wrote that Doctor Who episode about the moon being an egg? Yeah, he’s back and he’s doing an adaptation of H.G. Wells’ War Of The Worlds. And guess what! It’s fucking ghastly! :D

The three part BBC mini-series was without a doubt some of the worst telly I think I’ve ever seen. It’s staggering how clueless Harness is as a writer. For starters he managed to achieve the impossible and somehow made a Martian invasion of Earth boring. I didn’t even think it was possible, but somehow he pulled it off. Then he sucks all tension out of the story by revealing the ultimate fate of the Martians at the beginning of the second episode, so now any threat or danger has been chucked out of the window because we know that the main female protagonist Amy at least would survive. And then finally he takes a massive dump over the source material by having humanity weaponise typhoid to kill the red weed rather than just having the Martians die of the common cold like in the book. Because God forbid us Brits should be presented as anything other than heroic and dignified.

So what we’re left with is a poorly realised allegory with ineffectual horror tropes full of OTT progressive posturing in a pathetic attempt to make Harness and the BBC look more liberal than they actually are. There’s no effort to really explore the themes of imperialism and colonialism outside of casual lip service, and we barely get a glimpse of the dark side of humanity. Everyone is presented as flawed, but basically awesome or, in the case of Rafe Spall’s character, utterly gormless. Our TV license fees help fund this shit, you know?!

And if you think this was bad, just wait till New Year’s Day where we’ll get to see Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss’ butcher Dracula. Can we stop giving these beloved literary icons to these hacks please?

Glass

I liked Split. It wasn’t an amazing movie, but it was entertaining with some good ideas, a great performance from James McAvoy and was a true return to form for M Night Shyamalan. That being said, I wasn’t keen on the idea of it taking place in the same universe as Unbreakable. I feared it would be a step too far and we’d end up having something like... well, something like Glass.

On paper, Glass isn’t a bad idea. The idea of superpowers being a delusion is legitimately intriguing and could have been a great post-modern deconstruction of the superhero genre. Except Shyamalan never actually does anything with it. The first act drags on and on with absolutely nothing happening, none of the characters really grow or change over the course of the film, Bruce Willis in particular is basically only here for an extended cameo as his character does pretty much nothing for the majority of the film, and then the entire film is undermined by that stupid Shyamalan twist. Turns out superhumans are real and there’s a big cover up. Oh great! So not only does it render the entire film pointless, it also undoes what made Unbreakable and Split so good. They’re no longer people capable of extraordinary feats via rational means. They’re just superhuman. They can do anything. Sigh.

Shyamalan... maybe it’s time to give up the director’s chair, yeah?

Cats

Oh come on! Don’t act surprised! Did you honestly think I wouldn’t put Cats on this list?!

Cats, without a doubt, is the worst film of the decade and, yes, the CGI is terrible. Not only are there these sub-human cat mutants running around, we also have mice and cockroaches with child faces, James Corden coughing up furballs, Taylor Swift trying to give the furries in the audience boners, Idris Elba looking disturbingly underdressed and Rebel Wilson being... well... Rebel Wilson. It’s a disaster of a film. And really, should we even be surprised? We all knew this was going to suck. And no it’s not because of the CGI. I thought the CGI in Pokemon: Detective Pikachu was creepy as well, but at least it had a decent script and good performances to back it up. No the reason why Cats sucked is because... it’s Cats. It’s always been that bad. No amount of ‘advanced fur technology’ was going to change that. It was still going to be a confused, plotless mess with one dimensional characters and bad songs.

The only consolation I had was that I didn’t waste money buying a ticket. A friend of mine snuck me into the premiere and we watched it in the projector room. The plan was to make fun of it and have a laugh, but we didn’t even do that because honestly there’s nothing to really make fun. There’s only so many times you can take the piss out of the CGI and honestly the film was just boring more than anything else. It doesn’t even have the distinction of being so bad it’s good like Sharknado or Tommy Wiseau’s The Room. It’s just bad, period.

I just hope we don’t see something similar happen to Starlight Express. Just think. Anthropomorphic, singing trains on roller skates. Shudder.

Star Wars: The Rise Of Skywalker

Finally we have yet another cynical cash grab from Disney.

I confess I didn’t exactly go into The Rise Of Skywalker with an open mind. I was never all that keen on a sequel trilogy in the first place, and neither The Force Awakens nor The Last Jedi ever convinced me otherwise. Admittedly they weren’t bad movies. Just derivative and painfully uninspired, and I was expecting more of the same for Episode IX. What I got instead was quite possibly the worst Star Wars film since Attack Of The Clones. Yes, it’s that bad.

This film is very poorly made, filled with plot contrivances and logic holes galore. I lost count of the number of times the protagonists got into a dangerous situation because of Rey constantly wandering off like a confused toddler lost in a shopping mall. Oh and we finally find out who her parents were and it was quite a twist, but only because it was really stupid. Of course we didn’t see it coming because nobody would have guessed it would be something that moronic. I feel JJ Abrams’ stupid ‘mystery box’ philosophy is to blame for this. It’s derailed countless franchises before such as Lost and Cloverfield, and now Abrams has fucked up Star Wars because he’s obsessed with mystery for the sake of mystery and Disney are so lazy that they couldn’t be bothered to plan an actual trilogy out properly beforehand. Instead they just wing it, making it up as they go along, which led to Rian Johnson ‘subverting our expectations’ and left Abrams desperately trying to pick up the pieces. 

In fact a lot of The Rise Of Skywalker seemed designed specifically to appease people of both sides of the wide chasm The Last Jedi had created. The roles of characters of colour like Finn and Rose were significantly reduced, Poe and Finn don’t end up together because of homophobia, but we do see two women kiss in the background of one two second shot that could easily be cut out when they release the film in China, Kylo Ren gets his stupid redemption even though he hasn’t fucking earned it, Lando Calrissian shows up for no fucking reason, Rey is given ‘flaws’ relating to her parentage in order to combat those accusing her of being a Mary Sue, but they’re the boring kind of flaws that don’t have any real impact on her character, and that ghastly ship Reylo is made canon even though it makes no sodding sense in the context of this movie, let alone the whole trilogy. They even go to the trouble of baiting us with a FinnRey romance before pulling the rug out from under us. Then, just to add insult to injury, the film retroactively ends up making the entire original trilogy completely pointless. All because Disney wanted more dollars to put in their Scrooge McDuck money bin.

The Rise Of Skywalker, and indeed the entire sequel trilogy, should serve as a cautionary tale against the dangers of hype and nostalgia. The reason The Force Awakens was successful wasn’t because it was a good movie (because lets be brutally honest here, it really fucking wasn’t). It was because it gave gullible Star Wars fans warm fuzzies because it reminded them of A New Hope whilst tempting them with the vague promise that things might get more interesting later on. And when that didn’t materialise, quelle surprise, the fanbase didn’t take it very well. I would love to think that this will serve as an important lesson for the future when people go and see Disney movies, but who am I kidding? I guarantee at some point we’re going to get Episodes X, XI and XII and we’ll have to go through this sorry process all over again.

So there we have it. The worst of 2019. May they rot forever in Satan’s rectum or wherever it is stories go to die. Tomorrow we’ll take a look at the other end of the spectrum. Yes it’s the Quill Seal Of Approval Awards! The best of the best! Who shall win? The suspense is killing me! Ooooh, I can’t wait! You’ll be there tomorrow, won’t you? Of course you will. How could you not?

[sadlyafanofotomegames]

A Road Paved with Bad Endings - Nameless ~The One Thing You Must Recall~

It’s been eighty years since my last one so to remind everyone this is a series about bad ends in otome games - currently I’m talking about the bad ends in Nameless and I already did Lance’s bad endings.  This one’s going to be about Yeonho’s.

Yeonho - Bought Used, Highly Damaged, Needs Proper Care

Oh Yeonho.  Sweet. sweet little Yeonho.  Made to instill mother instincts in young ladies.  Surely his route will just be ADORABLE right...right!?

Okay so Yeonho has some serious issues stemming from an extremely painful past (which is bad enough as a doll but then when translated to human terms YIKES) and most of his route is about confronting that past.  Sure there are cute moments here and there, but mainly its just about how to confront the things that were done to him and how to cope in a more healthy way.

One thing I’m not keen on is that with these kind of characters (I will elaborate on this when talking about the bad ends) I wish they just left out the romance aspect altogether.  So much of this route is about understanding Yeonho’s trauma and how it affects his view of the world, that its not until the last couple of chapters that the writers were like, “oh FUCK this is an otome game they’re supposed to date” and slapped on two or three romantic scenes.  It doesn’t help that in this route compared to the other routes it’s painfully clear that Eri favoring Yeonho can go real bad for both of them if not treated correctly.  I’m worried about them is what I’m saying.

If you are suffering from abandonment and/or other forms of abuse, this route might make you uncomfortable.  I say they do a not-bad job in confronting trauma, but that doesn’t mean it won’t be the same experience with you. 

Also two of these three ending go into the “WTF WTF WTF” end of the bad end spectrum, and they do include implied violence and assault so tread lightly.

Bad End 1 - Unforgiven Doll - Surprise!  YOU Are The First Yandere in the Game!

How to Get It

Eri.  Basic female protagonist in an otome game.  Most female protagonists in otome games range from “blank slate/silent” to “this is clearly a story about this particular gal.”  Eri falls closer to the latter half of this spectrum, but she still shows some of those tried and true female lead traits, mainly her naivete.  This isn’t just to show innocence in this route though: her naive and relaxed attitude toward Yeonho in the beginning becomes a detriment to Yeonho’s growth.  She doesn’t realize until around a quarter into the route that Yeonho’s devotion and to her isn’t just a phase, and she doesn’t know how to confront it at first.  Yeonho wakes her up every morning, makes the same rabbit-shaped eggs every morning, texts her every morning, noon and night, and it gets to the point where he refuses to leave her side.  

One rainy day, Eri’s friends finally have an opportunity to talk to her without Yeonho around.  They’re worried about both of them, and they decide to take the chance to separate them by taking Eri out while Yeonho’s on cleaning duty. Yeonho seems pretty dejected at the idea but still stays for cleaning duty.  But then...Eri gets worried and goes back.  And its a good thing she did, because Yeonho was waiting for her in the pouring rain.  

Now, you don’t have to go back right away though...you could choose to be dismissive and cold when it comes to Yeonho...its not like he’ll ever dislike you for it...

Once Yeonho’s taken inside he’s tending to by Eri.  Yeonho’s not looking so great after getting a rain shower.  He tells Eri he’s cold and doesn’t want Eri to leave but...its not a big deal right?  Leave Yeonho’s side to grab blankets.

Alternatively, you can also be dismissive of Yeonho in earlier parts as well.  At one point you can almost push Yeonho into riding big rides at a theme park  which you know Yeonho doesn’t like but refuses to admit he’s not having fun.  Because its all for Eri. 

What Happens

Seeing Yeonho shivering and sad...Yeonho who would do anything for her...Yeonho who would always be hers no matter how cruel she is...something in Eri snaps.  She WANTS to hurt Yeonho.  

Yeonho doesn’t mind right?  He’d never hate her.  When Yeonho wakes up and sees Eri...he knows what’s going to happen.  And he does let her hurt him.  And he cries.  All he wants is to be cherished.

How I Feel About This One

Honestly when it comes to otome games I expect there’s always going to be at least one route route where somebody goes yandere and/or the main girl gets killed.  But this is the first one I’ve encountered where the the main girl becomes the yandere character.  It was a real shock to me, because all of the sudden I wasn’t just causing Eri to be run over by the truck, I’m causing Eri to be cruel.  When we reach a bad end, our character’s the one who usually gets hurt the most, not the one who directly causes the hurt.  

As such while other endings are theoretically worse for Eri and some of the characters involved in their specific route, this one I just can’t stomach revisiting often.  Hearing Yeonho crying in pain and asking to be cherished makes me feel like my hearts being used as a needle ball...so as a bad end its pretty good!  7/10 stop making me feel bad please.

Bad End 2 - Competitor - Now Yeonho’s the Yandere!  But Wait!  A YANDERE CHALLENGER APPROACHES!!! (how many yanderes are in this game!?  the answer may shock you)

How to Get It

So after you stay by Yeonho’s side while he’s sick and assure him that you’re there for him and that you WON’T become a yandere things seem to start to improve.  Yeonho’s less clingy, and he’s no longer willing to be pushed around by his fans at school (btw all of the boys got fans because they’re all beautiful doll people so yeah.)  Eri’s a little concerned that Yeonho is now being too off-putting, but hey it feels like Yeonho is changing so...that’s something.

Then Eri has to go see her parents at a hotel for dinner (btw her parents travel a lot for work and are mainly based in the U.S. so she rarely sees them thus when they do come by they meet her at a hotel nearby where they usually go to for business.)  Yeonho begins to wonder if Eri’s parents, her family, matters more than him, who’s just a doll.  How can he assure himself that Eri won’t forget him?

Eri leaves promising that she won’t be long.  The visit goes fine, except uh...her parents pressure her into staying at their hotel room for way longer than she planned.  It’d be nice if you chose to say you have to go back, but choosing to stay isn’t what’ll cause the camel’s back to break in this one.  That happens when Eri returns home to see Yeonho, again, waiting for her outside.  It’s not raining, but its cold, and Yeonho looks cold both physically and emotionally.

Now I need to remind you fellows that these boys are not people first: they’re dolls first, people second.  Their world is limited by the very few experiences they had on top of a shelf.  In Yeonho’s case, his experience was being put on a literal pedestal, used essentially as a stress toy whenever his first owner got mad, left on the floor when his owner got bored of him, then left in a very badly put box for who knows how long to be sent to a new owner who, once again, puts him on a pedestal.  Eri takes great care of her dolls, but to Yeonho, this doesn’t mean she won’t abandon him like his previous owner did.  Because his previous owner seemingly treasured him too.

And with the previous bad end, we know Eri is capable of the same cruelty as the previous owner.  And even without that context what’s stopping Eri from abandoning him too?  How can he be permanent in Eri’s heart so that doesn’t happen?  Yeonho doesn’t have the means to see beyond his own experience, so he can’t see how he won’t be abandoned eventually, and even though he’s human now he still sees himself as needing to belong to someone.  What can he do?  He’s not being threatening at this point, he’s just begging for answers.

So what answer do you give?  Well, if you were listening to his plea, you tell him that no, he doesn’t need to do anything to earn love, because he’s already deserving of it.  Yeonho already holds a place in Eri’s heart, and she means that earnestly.  

...Buuuuut if you’re looking for a bad end, dismissively say “eh, just stay by my side like usual.”  This’ll calm him down right?  His deep-seated feelings aren’t that serious.  It’s fine.  It’ll be fine.  Really, it’s fine.

...So turns out it was not fine, because you didn’t give him a real answer.  He still doesn’t know how to be permanent in Eri’s heart.  So he’s going to find is own answers.  Spoilers: the answer he comes to is bad.  For both of them.  In more ways than expected.

What Happens

Oh wait, no he’s fine.  He was cool with that answer!  See, he’s smiling, although his smile is a little off, but that’s fine, because me and Eri are sure that he’ll just go back to his usual self by morning.  Time to go to bed.  

Fun Fact: There’s a diary entry in Eri’s journal that only appears in this ending.  Check it out before Eri closes her eyes.  It’ll be awkward to read it after Yeonho tries to choke Eri to de-oh-OH GAWD YEONHO’S CHOKING ERI TO DEATH!

Another Fun Fact: If you want to revisit this bad ending save right after you made the bad choice.  For some reason in the Memories (the menu that lets you revisit past events) it starts in the middle of the bad ending!  

So it turns out the answer Yeonho came to was, “I guess I need to be a yandere” and kill Eri.  BTW despite being advertised in the Crobidoll line as “babey” for some reason he was given the ability to see ghosts?  So I’m guessing his plan was to have Eri’s spirit tethered to him so she literally can never leave (and thus in his eyes abandon) him.

Funny thing about Yeonho: he’s referenced as similar to a chick a lot in this game.  He’s got corn yellow hair that’s feathery and he’s got big ol’ red eyes.  Except...when he’s chocking Eri, suddenly his eyes don’t look so cute.  His pupils literally shrink.  They’re no longer the eyes of a chick, but the eyes of a snake. 

So Yeonho kills Eri.  Bad End reached.  Pretty typical of a bad ending in an otome game, huh?

Well, JUST KIDDING Tei barges in and stops Yeonho from completing the task.  Phew Eri was saved.  That was close.  Good thing someone as kind and dependable as Tei arrived to help her out right...right?  

Ha...haha...HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAA!!!!

Surprise! Turns out Tei is the Alpha Yandere ‘round these parts.

Friends...may I introduce you to...Bad End Tei?  He’s going to be a regular on the series.  In fact he’s probably the main character in this Nameless Bad End Journey.  He’s a constant shadow that looms across almost all the bad paths we follow.  Just remember in this series we’re going to be talking only about Bad End Tei, not all of who Tei is.  If you want me to talk more about Tei as a whole character you’ll have to wait until we get to Tei’s bad endings, which, spoilers, have a lot of Bad End Tei in it too.  You cannot escape Bad End Tei.

Anyway back to what was SUPPOSED to be Yeonho’s Yandere moment.

After stopping Yeonho from killing Eri, Tei starts by saying he’s dissapointed...at Eri?  She really shouldn’t have let herself be hurt.  Kinda victim-blamey there Bad End Tei.  After all, I’M the one who almost got her choked to death here.  No need to blame her!

Secondly Tei wants nothing more than for Eri, his owner, to be safe.  But if she does get hurt...it should be him who does the hurting.  The reason for this is explained further in later bad endings and in Tei’s Route, but in this ending we discover that Tei is just as obsessed with his owner as Yeonho is.  Difference is Bad End Tei doesn’t need to be remembered by Eri, or even have a place in her heart.  What he wants is Eri herself, and to have that he wants control of her pain.  So when someone else tries to cause Eri pain...well that’s stealing his control of her pain, and that just won’t do.  

Unlike Yeonho, who ultimately just wants to belong to Eri and to never be abandoned by her, Bad End Tei wants Eri to belong to him the same way he belongs to her.   

It’s ironic that a doll wants ownership over the doll’s owner huh.  Feels like maybe bringing dolls to life wasn’t exactly what its cracked up to be.  

Anyway if Eri’s going to get hurt, then there was no reason for Tei to have held back for so long.  If this was going to happen, he should have hurt Eri when this all started.  He justifies that he can hurt Eri better than Yeonho can (weird flex but ok) and its getting late so could Yeonho like, leave?  And even Yeonho in yandere mode is taken aback.  But then he’s like, “No wait I’M the yandere in this bad ending!” and tries to attack Tei.

Tei doesn’t want to hurt or even touch anyone that’s not Eri, but since Yeonho won’t be good and go to bed he’ll just have to put him down.  Even though all the dolls are in human form now, their doll forms are still on Eri’s shelf.  And doing things to the doll forms affects their human forms.  So, instead of going after Yeonho the human...he grabs Yeonho the doll.  And squeezes.

Meanwhile Eri is, quite justifiably, shocked and disgusted by all this.  Yeonho’s a yandere?  Tei’s a yandere?  I could be a yandere!?  How many yandere’s are in this game!? 

While Tei is committing doll homicide he says since Eri’s good at keeping her hobbies (collecting dolls) a secret from her friends, it shouldn’t be hard to pretend that everything’s fine from now on.  Of course, she doesn’t have to pretend she loves him.  So long as Tei can have her, he doesn’t care.

After the deed is done, Tei approaches her.  Eri desperately wants this to all be a dream, but when Tei holds her face she knows its real.  Tei tells her to be quiet and asks if she’d ready.  The last thing we hear is a chime, and the scene fades out.

How I Feel About This One

So this has to be one of my favorite bad endings.  I mean what happens in it makes me go “WTF WTF AAAAAAGH” but in an interesting way, ya know?  The kind that makes my hair stand on end.  It’s a story in and of itself.  The set-up, the plot twist, the monologue, just...mwah.  Perfect.  It’s exactly what I want in my bad endings.

Plus if you’re doing the bad endings in order, this’ll be the first time you see Bad End Tei.  You don’t see Bad End Tei in the routes themselves (outside of his and Red’s, which is only unlocked after you complete all the other routes so at that point you had to have seen Bad End Tei) but suddenly there’s hints of Bad End Tei throughout all of his encounters.  I didn’t say this in Lance’s Bad End Post, but a part of me thinks that maybe Tei had something to do with what happened to Lance in one of his bad endings...there’s no proof, but still.  He was in the room with Lance by themselves when Eri left so...who knows.

This also hints at also aspects of the story.  Bad End Tei’s an obvious hint to who Tei is as a character, but there’s also the use of the doll bodies, and that chime at the end.

Anyway this Bad Ending sets up Bad End Tei’s character in the most dramatic and creepy of ways and if every otome game had bad endings as good (well, not good in that way but-you know what I mean!) as this one this series would never end.  I mean, it won’t if I post every four to five months.  

Also what makes me appreciate this one is that it cuts off before we see what happens to Eri, and it doesn’t go into detail on what Bad End Tei did to Yeonho either.  If we had detailed descriptions of whatever happened I might not have stomached it.  Implication are far more sinister than outright statements.  This is also one of the only Bad End Tei endings where Eri’s vocal about how messed up this is.

Bad End 3 - Disappeared Yeonho - That’s It.  Pretty Anticlimactic Compared to the Previous Endings

How to Get It

So Eri takes Yeonho’s worries seriously and no one turns yandere and Bad End Tei stays firmly in the back of Tei’s mind (btw after you make the good choice with Yeonho once they go back inside Tei gives Yeonho some comforting words.  At their worst they can be cruel to each other, but when they’re not at that breaking point they do have this solidarity with each other, both having previous owners before Eri.)  Things start to improve a lot.  Yeonho can now enjoy things outside of Eri, and is back to being willing to hang out with others.  He’s grown a great deal, and the people around him notice.  Things are looking up for Yeonho and Eri now.

Of course, then the writers realize, “wait romance” and Yeonho needs to like Eri now.  Not as a doll loves their owner, but as a person wanting to be with another person...okay I don’t hate it when its put that way, but I still feel like this wasn’t necessary.  Let me remind you, Yeonho tried to kill Eri in a bad ending because of his fear of her forgetting him.  He was so desperate to remain at her side, and then things get better, but even after all that he still wants to refer to her as “Master” while trying to pursue a romantic relationship with her.  All I’m saying is maybe give each other a little distance for a just a tiiiiiiny bit to figure things out before going into this yeah?

Still they’re pretty cute together in the end.  Things don’t get nearly as saucy as it did in Lance’s route, and its all very innocent and sweet.  I don’t hate it.  Now Tei on the other hand-

Alright alright back to how this bad end goes down.  Before Yeonho confesses to Eri there’s a school festival and he has a fortune reading stand.  (Also aside from seeing ghosts he can also read tarot cards and talk to animals.)  After he read your fortune he tries to make a move, but then a very haughty girl barges in to get her fortune read.  Suddenly Yeonho clams up and runs away.

Where did he go!?  Eri could check the rooftop, where he’s likely to be at...or she can just give up and see if he came home.  

...That’s it.  That’s all it takes.

What Happens

So Yeonho never came home.  They made missing photos and everything!  Where could he be...?

...Yeah that’s it.

How I Feel About This One

Honestly I don’t feel like this one needed to be there.  Maybe it’s because if they didn’t, then for the last few chapter there’d be no need for choices.  But they did that with Lance!  In Lance’s route after the play there’s no choice for the last few chapter, and while he has the shortest amount of bad endings, they both are still creepy and at least a little intense.  Why didn’t they do the same for Yeonho?

I don’t know.  I don’t hate it.  It’s like, nothing terrible happened to characters I love, which is nice, but that’s not what bad endings are for!  They’re supposed to make you feel bad and maybe give you the heebie jeebies!  Or they’re supposed to fulfill some fantasy in a safe way like they do sometimes in Mystic Messenger!  Or be a joke ending where you at least get a chuckle before having to restart!  I don’t know!  Give me Yeonho joining a ghost detective agency with a cat sidekick running away from his past!  Something!  ANYTHING!!!

Anyway overall I really do like Yeonho’s route in its emotionally heartfelt moments and really disturbed by the intensity of some of its bad endings (which make them pretty good in my book!)  Now we move on to Yuri’s route where I need to turn off Yuri’s voice in the options menu to pull through it!  WAHOOO!!!

[nexstage]

LIMBO SILVAM - PART 9 (3/3)

"It's better if you hold onto my back" Lapis suggested "I don't want you to have an accident because of another issue your body might have"

 "I'll be fine. My head doesn't hurt that much anymore. Just numb and empty. Maybe If we do this slowly, we can reach the peak without more difficulties to deal with"

 "Are you completely sure?" Lapis wasn't that convinced of letting Peridot continue after witnessing how fragile she was.

 "I'll climb first and you will follow me from behind. That way, if I collapse or something, you can catch me. I'll be careful and tell you if I'm too tired to keep going, ok?"

 "Again, are you truly sure?" Lapis wanted to trust Peridot's judgment but with everything they have endured, it was proving too hard for her to change her mind. "Yeah, Laz. I'll be fine. I will take all the precautions"

 "Alright then. Go first" The green gem walked a bit clumsily while her companion kept a worried eye on her. Resolutely, she started escalating without pushing herself at the limit. Soon, her efforts became a bit quicker and more encouraged which brought a smile to Lapis' face. Despite the turbulent journey, they were having, her lover hadn't lost that brave and hardworking spark of hers and she wanted it to be that way.

 Because that was one of the things she admired of Peridot most, that no matter what she was always ready to fight back and help. Whenever the little Crystal Gem had an idea to improve Little Homeworld or a plan to make an important mission successful, that spark was present in her eyes and never wavered. But with this kind of journey, Lapis noticed how burnt out it got.

 Their powers not working, the deteriorating symptoms, the dangers and especially the void where they were stuck for who knows how long had taken away so much energy from Peri that it was a miracle she was still trying to fight. Though, if she had been alone during the whole ordeal, things would have been worse and Lapis didn't want to imagine her companion giving up because of that.

 The good news now was that they're closer than ever to finish this. Once they reached the peak and got to the other side, who knew what other challenges they would face. All they've gone through may be worth it or not, the sole thought of having wasted so much time in a solution that never existed, except in their own heads, was too scary for Lapis to dwell on.

 'We need to keep climbing, keep walking. There is no time for doubts' She told herself mentally. One hand grabbed a sharp icicle while her eyes were focused on Peridot. For now, things seemed to be fine with the green gem; however, the blue one had this sensation of being torn apart. Many forces were pulling her limbs, her head, her mind, every corner of her being in all directions. Like two or more beasts were fighting for prey by ripping it to pieces with claws and fangs.

 'Not now. Oh stars, not now. Not when I have to be there for Peri' Her gemstone felt cold, but not the normal kind. It was foreign, ominous and macabre. Like Death's claws claiming for its next victim who didn't stop fighting against the spectrum. Her anxiety skyrocketed, Lapis trembled violently, struggling for keeping her balance and sanity.

 Then, terror, her gemstone emanated paralyzing waves that made her believe she was going to break apart. Is that how it felt being shattered or at the brink of destruction? She swallowed the pain, poofing her chest with fake pride imitating Peridot's ego-boosting gestures, but it only made it worse. What was this torture?

 All her worst feelings and fears scattered in her mind while her body stopped, kept climbing, stopped, glitched. 'My head... I think I'm going to--'

 "Lapis, take my hand! Take it quickly!" Peridot yelled. Her voice sounded distant as if she were thousands of meters away from the blue gem. Her eyes could barely distinguish colors and shapes, all looked like a scribbled picture. One of her hands, however, was raised unconsciously to where she thought Peridot was.

 Her companion took it immediately and pulled with all her strength until she got Lapis at her side. The other, though, didn't respond or react, utterly numb for the sinister wave of sensations produced by her gemstone.

 "Shit!" Peridot swore after checking Lapis' back. Instead of being gray like the rest of her body had turned, it was almost covered in thick dark veins that came from her gemstone making it look like it'd been painted with black. There was no doubt that whatever that was happening to them, especially to Lapis was a new kind of corruption that could shatter them if not treated.

 "P-Peri... Where are we?" Lazuli murmured, drunk by fatigue. Her lover placed her gently on the side of an old arch and waited for the svelte gem to regain consciousness. "Lapis, you need to wait for me to show you. You aren't in the conditions to see it yet"

 "See what?"

 "Just breathe and rest for a while. You almost fainted and fall, Lapis. You could've cracked your gem" Peridot, for some reason she didn't know, sounded between panicked and totally done. Almost like Lazuli's old self.

 The blue gem breathed one, two, three, so many times as possible. Minutes passed until coming to half an hour, Lapis' trance and numbness finally giving space to clarity. "Ugh" the blue Crystal Gem pinched the bridge of her nose to rid of the draining headache pulsating inside her skull "Ok... Ok... I...waited already... Where are we now?"

 "Look at your right"

 Lapis did and her gasping was signal enough for Peridot to know that she was as surprised as the green gem had been a bit before.

 In front of them was the breathtaking and majestic mountain in all its splendor. Above it, there was a beautiful blue sky and fluffy, white clouds. It really gave you some peace for the mind compared to the rest of the journey that was the total opposite.

 "I can't believe it... Peri, we arrived!"

 "Well, not exactly but yeah, we just need to cross the huge and deadly cliff that is in our way and we'll finally have reached the peak. The only problem, though, it's...that there is no bridge"

 Oh...

 OH...

 "Fuck" Lapis swore and leaned her back on the right side of the arch. "Now what?"

 "Beats me. How do you feel though? You really gave a big scare back then. Your symptoms are getting to a point of being incurable. I-I don't want to imagine what will happen if we don't find Steven in time to treat you"

 "I say the same for you, Peri. I thought you were going to glitch and disappear. Heck, the only thing we need right now is a miracle to cross this cliff without getting ourselves shattered"

 Something crossed Peridot's mind. A miracle? Could that happen again? But what if not? What if that time was just luck? But still, they had endured terrible things, survived multiple attacks from monsters, being powerless and terribly sick, you can name them all. Maybe this cliff was the last test of their mental strength and unity.

 "Laz, let's do it" Peridot's determined expression was met by Lapis' confused eyes. "What do you mean?"

 "You said a miracle was the only thing that could help us now, and when we thought we were stuck in that void, something between us happened that got us out of there! What if we create another miracle to reach the peak?"

 "But how? I mean, wasn't it lucky?"

 "We had luck many times even when we faced together threats no one could stand. The Diamonds, Jasper, those monsters. However, there was something that gave us a real chance and that was being there for each other till the end. No hesitation, no fear, just focusing on what we wanted to do, what we wanted to accomplish. We can do it again"

 "If by that you're implying that we can fly by jumping such a huge cliff, then forget it. It's suicide"

 "We have seen things that shouldn't be normal on Earth after learning how things work on it. Please, Lapis, don't take this as if I'm desperate. This is our last leap of faith. Remember that episode from Camp Pining Hearts when Pierre and Percy made that jump together from one side of the end of the cave to the other side where the others were, even when the move was risky and with a high probability of failure and death and still they did it and survived?"

 "This is completely different from Camp Pining Hearts, Peridot"

 "What if it isn't? What if it's our chance to do the same and end this ordeal once and for all? I mean, there are no materials to build a bridge or another path to reach the peak. This is the solution. Faith in ourselves and each other, and then jump"

 "But if we die?" Peridot opened her mouth, then closed it due to the lack of good answers. If they die... If they did, then there would be nothing but the Afterlife, whatever it looked. Both gems had come so far, giving up wasn't an option. This was worth a shot. "If that happens, we'll at least have each other. Like in that void. Besides, if the Diamonds couldn't stop us, this stupid cliff can't either"

 Lapis wasn't that sure about it. During the whole journey they had been so close to death; however, at seeing Peri's unwavering decision some of the strength that was vanishing from her returned making her smile filled with resolution "Let's defeat that cliff then"

 The green gem took her hand, both Crystal Gems held tightly to their partner ready to run and do the leap of faith, but before that Lapis kissed her lover deeply much to Peridot's surprise "Just an extra power boost" the former technician blushed profusely and faked a cough much to Lazuli's happiness.

 "Ready, Lapis?"

 "Ready" said the blue gem and the two started running even with the numbing pain and back-breaking exhaustion. Everything went in slow camera when they made the jump, their hands locked with the other's, then they descended until... Clack!! Their feet collided with something hard that wasn’t there. Both looked at each other, shocked to the core; however, they didn't have time to ponder what had happened because the invisible bridge began to break apart.

 Lapis got up immediately and pulled Peridot so they could run more easily. Every step felt like a stab in some part of her body, of her gemstone. Peri, on the other hand, was having some difficulties in catching up with her companion but the fear of death gave her the impulse necessary to accelerate. The peak was getting closer, the bridge was trembling with their movements, their sight was being consumed by darkness, but the loving longing of home pulled them more and more to their goal.

 "Just a bit more, Dot!" Lapis shaking legs were at the brink of tripping "Just a bit--" then her feet felt no more ground. The bridge broke in pieces beneath her and Peri.

 'Oh no! Not now! Screw it!' Lazuli's last bit of energy was spent in a life-saving move by jumping to grab the edge of the peak, Peridot's hand still held by hers. Her arm felt like it was being torn mercilessly, the extra effort sending flames to the tired muscles, so agonizing. "Peridot, I'm gonna throw you to the peak! You help me from there!"

 "Roger!" The mechanic then was tossed and put to safety when she made it to the crevice of the mountain. Without losing time, she grabbed Lapis' right hand and pulled until the blue gem was on her knees on the snow-covered ground. Both fell to their backs, one at the other's side and in seconds snorts and cackles erupted from them until forming into massive laughter.

 Pain, numbness, danger, and terror became in overflowing joy and relief. They made it. They finally, truly made it!

 "WE MADE IT!!!!!!!!" Peridot yelled, raising her hands to the air like rubbing her victory to the skies' face.

 Lapis, meanwhile, cleaned her teary eyes, smile as big as the mountain "Yeah, Peri, we did it. You were right"

 "And now... Home. The other side where our friends and family are" The engineer helped the ex terraformer to get on her feet and both looked the beautiful light in front of them. The crevice in the peak of the mountain was narrow but inviting, like a tranquil path to a peaceful and calm place to rest and forget all the turmoils suffered at the beginning of their journey.

 "Let's go, Dot. This time it will be...easy peasy... Just walking..." Lapis was at the brink of fainting though her wishes of being in Little Homeworld again lifted her strengths even if by bits. "Yeah, come on" Peridot took her hand again and both walked, clumsily and drunk by fatigue.

 The former technician could picture already what she would do once they were home. Oh, all the stories she'd tell the Crystal Gems and Steven, they would be ecstatic to hear them and happy to have her back. Peridot would return as a hero again and even announce that she and Lapis were deeply in loved and had confessed to each other. There would be a great celebration and much more. The future was bright and there was nothing that may take it away from her.

 Lapis hummed a song, her mind conjuring lots of scenarios where the blue gem and her lover lived happily ever after, had fun and laughed like there was no tomorrow. To think that one day someone like her who had been trapped in a mirror for so long and made so many mistakes might imagine a life filled with hope and love. It was so daring but joyful in the end, something that very soon she was going to have again. Peridot and she would visit Pumpkin's tomb, watch Camp Pining Hearts, remember the good times, hang out with Bismuth, Steven, and most importantly, being together like they had never done before.

 And all of that was going to become a reality once they saw what was beyond the light.

 "It all...became...so lovely..." her eyes felt heavier with every step "Those bluest... skies...above me..." the end of the crevice was so close "Those...funny feelings... I...had never...felt before...I...met you... I finally...find myself...sitting on...that distant...shore" Peridot's hand slipped from hers, the green gem entering to the light-filled terrain beyond the crevice. However, something prevented Lapis from following the little gem. Her knees colliding with the ground, but still smiling, still feeling Peri's hand locked with her own while watching her away.

 "With you...I'm not...alone..." The svelte gem fell face down with a joyful expression in her face. 'We're finally going home' she thought, shedding a little tear of happiness.

 "I can see it, Laz. I can see our home" Peridot kept walking, ignorant that Lapis couldn't follow her despite having the sensation of the blue gem's hand on hers tightly. The former technician got farther and farther away until the light completely consumed her.

[mad-men-inc]

🌻

So I've been playing the shit out of batman, right? As a way to not be hanging out in tsr literally 24/7 (and on the chance that this is sent by one of the lucky few who I havent screamed about tsr to: TSR or The Septic Resistance is an arg me and some friends are running, that yall can come and spectate if you're interested!)

But all batman has done to me is make me and my muses go feral, cause certain aspects of the game mimic stuff that we've considered having in tsr, or at least give off similar vibes.

The biggest thing is the whole "joker manipulates batman into pulling the trigger on scarecrow", and the architects are 100% joker, but you can kinda substitute a few people in for batman??? Like, ethan is batman. Early stage!creator is batman. Anti is batman. Its wild?????? But the scene also gave me corrupt!drew vibes, so his muse went feral over it too??? Its a wild scene

I've been trying to play it without using the fuckin car, cause damn if that isnt the most irritatingly overused gadget I've ever seen. I get it's the first game with the car, and it handles decently well so you wanna show it off, but for gods' sake rocksteady, please stop making every puzzle be solved via the car >:(

Maybe I'm just being a bitch, cause they didnt have the car in the other 2 games (basically, its cameo in Asylum doesnt really count), and it isnt *easy* to get around gotham without it (or it's not fast, it's easy enough), but like. Mmmm, I dont wike it.

But the story is gorgeous and I love flying around gotham, tbh. It's gotten to the point where I really dont need the map anymore, whether in driving or flying, I know where I'm going without waypoints and shit.

I wish!!!! There were more villains in the side quests!!!!!!! So many dudes are unresolved, and it makes me so upsetti!!!!!! Calendar man deserved better!!!!!!! He killed 3 or 4 people on his way out of City, wtf you mean he isnt showing up on Halloween?????? Bitch?????????? The biggest crime day of the year in Gotham, coupled with having free reign cause the city is evacuated???? *WHAT DO YOU MEAN HES JUST GONE??????????*

They made Origins canon in that game too, and that's distressing. I dont remember much of that game, except that the 3nding was a cop out, deathstroke was the only good fight, and electrocutioner was the wimpiest piece of shit villain youve ever seen. Oh, and Shiva was trans!

Oh fuck, in Knight, they have gay side characters just walking around, and their conversations are kinda hilarious? It's the militia, right? The army-for-hire that has Gotham under siege. And one of them is sitting there bitching about how his wife doesnt appreciate the sketchy bullshit he does for her (laundering money through her company, blood diamonds in her jewelry box), and the other guy goes "yeah haha, I know what you mean. My other half is a human rights lawyer. He uh- thinks I'm on a business trip" like, that's a *real* problem, yall are literally opposite sides of the spectrum in terms of jobs, one of you kills people for a living and the other is a HUMAN RIGHTS LAWYER AKXHWH the fucking *irony*, get our of here with your stolen, cheap ass blood diamonds, the gays have *real* problems.

That game needs more women tho. Harley gets too many panty shots, Christina fuckin dies, Selina is a damsel in distress, Ivy also dies, Babs gets [redacted], and Kate is just a voice message on his phone. And I cant think of a single other woman that's in the main story. And none of the militia or rioters are women. Come on rocksteady, please. Make women be evil, let the gays have one thing, *please*.

Anyw? This was fun, I have no idea if I said anything important, thank you for the ask, friendo! Qjdhqhd

[thatfeministchickofficial]

Crypto-POENiSs insincerely identifying as Non-Binary as though Non-Binary genders = gender criticism.

When those who think of themselves as “crypto-terfs” take on nonbinary identities, insincerely, which harms not only women who are trans, but actual nonbinary people as well, (some of whom are trans women too, some of who are not, and are even trans-masc), It is because they are “gender critical,” and therefore see no real harm/difference. Remember that *Different kinds* of “TWERF/TERF” (More properly referred to as POENiSs) exist, and be aware. This is one type. (They *LOVE* trying to play off an insincere “misunderstanding” that somehow we lump every kind of them in as though they all had the same roots for their transmisogyny, let’s make it clear that we can see that there are different species, and have studied them all...) When a “gender critical” POENiS claims to be nonbinary, they do so because they are trying to act like gender isn’t real, and so the label doesn’t matter. They don’t get that being nonbinary is a collection of genders, and think they can just use it to say “OH, I broke your system, what now???” They are not actual nonbinary people. Actual nonbinary people are not intentionally POENiSy, or at least apologize for it when they are made to see that they’ve been transmisogynist. Actual people who are nonbinary actually identify as NOT BEING WOMEN. Some have dicks, some have vaginas. POENiSs taking on the identity insincerely do so because they feel as though they can infiltrate the system, and try to act like nonbinary people think gender is a lie. Actual nonbinary people aren’t “gender critical,” POENiSs are. They believe gender exists, not as a construct for self-identification, but to impose a strict set of rules for vagina-owners in exclusion, and that men live in a gender-free world, and that this is somehow where they’ll find liberation from the shackles that the patriarchy has thrown on those who gender as women by simultaneously being like “I’m not a woman!” and “I’m a woman!”... I understand that every now and then, some of us (women) like to switch back and forth to get like a “which is it?” out of the world of men, like, HELLO, I’m a woman, this is one of the most useful attitudes in some situation for getting what you want from men, like the truth when they think they can play, this isn’t one of those situations... And like, it’s freaking annoying when POENiSs try to use tactics women developed for dealing with men for dealing with other women, like every time it happens, this is the face we make back at you: :|... That deadpan, mouth flat, eyes so wide they could roll out of their sockets, ready to roll back with a *HUGE* sigh as soon as the disbelief that you’d actually think this would work fades enough for the “OH BOY!!!” to come out of our mouths, like...this is one of those times... They think it’ll let them sneak in... They think it’ll prove a point somehow... It’s not genuine, and don’t be fooled. They especially like to try to convince other nonbinary people that they are genuine, and then use that foot in the door to start getting them attacking women who are trans for calling POENiS bullshit out., trying to make them think when we are talking about “Crypto-Terfs” (like this) that we are lumping in actual nonbinary people, when we are not, or that we are referring only to AFAB nonbinary people when we refer to nonbinary people... I don’t get how this has become such a seemingly universal piece of POENiS rhetoric, all the same, the assumption that we are talking exclusively about AFAB NB people when we (women who are trans) say NB... Probably about half of NB people were AMAB, and legit, sometimes it feels like we (women who are trans) are the only ones who get that... Is it possibly because many women who are trans are nonbinary ourselves? (Technically *ALL* trans people are nonbinary according to... *SHOCK* the binary itself...) POENiS rhetoric though, focuses on attempting to frame dysphoria as though it meant that women who are trans actually somehow secretly define womanhood as owning a vagina ourselves, and that when we talk about “Women and Afab people” basically to mean “People who don’t identify as men,” we somehow are trying to say “People who have, or want vaginas...” No, about half of nonbinary folks have or were born with what society arbitrarily calls “penises,” probably about half of nonbinary people want to have “penises” (regardless of being AMAB or AFAB), and women who are trans who have “penises” are great, and women! Women who want to keep their “penises” are great! Women who have no dysphoria at all about their penises are great, and valid! It’s a clit. It’s a fucking clit, everyone has one! What woman wouldn’t want to keep her clit? This is turning into a side note, and that note is that I’m even sick of the “keep your penis/don’t” language, like, if the surgeon is doing it right, we *ALL* “keep” our girl-penises anyway and just get a vagina, like... unless a woman asks to *NOT* have her clit, like... I don’t see why, that seems like self-harm, ok, tho... I don’t even feel like that ever happens, so, let’s change the language... And since I was talking about NB people with dicks (Like this girl), Let’s get back to that... Oh, what? You want me to talk about NB people with pussies? Cool. I’m not gonna do that right now, specifically because it’s what you want, and for me, a huge part of how my femininity expresses itself is in not doing anything just because some dude wants me to. (Dude is gender neutral right? I mean, I don’t agree with that all the time, I feel like it can be pretty loaded the way POENISs use it just in anger to basically say “I’m catching you ‘acting like a man’ and trying to go ‘bad dog!’ in order to push you back to ‘acting like a woman,’ (<-WTF do either of these even mean, like... if you’re gonna use “dude” like that, you gotta explain these two things to me. Explain it like I’m 5, please...) Anyway, be leary of any person claiming to be “nonbinary,” and “gender critical” at the same time. Actual nonbinary people aren’t “gender critical,” because *SHOCK* all of them who aren’t agender... HAVE GENDER! Frequently these “crypto-terfs,” and really POENiSs in general, act as though they believe “non-binary” is in and of itself a gender, and not a broad collection of a spectrum of countess genders, as it is, and for all I know, it’s cause they actually don’t know better... This is *ACTUALLY* kind of useful as a red-flag... They act like “nonbinary” means “I have ‘liberated’ myself from gender!” and not “I FOUND MY GENDER AND IT’S NOT ON THIS EITHER/OR BULLSHIT, THAT DOESN’T FIT MY LIFE, AND I’M ELATED!!!” Gender isn’t oppressive, *shouldn’t *be*, or *feel** oppressive. Gender is LIBERATING, *SHOULD *BE* *AND* *FEEL** liberating... LIke, this is the whole idea of being trans... We felt (and were *BEING*) oppressed by being *FORCED* into identifying and expressing ourselves with a gender we *DON’T* identify with, we feel *LIBERATED* being finally *FREE* to identify and express ourselves as the gender we actually experience and identify with and wish to express, like... OMG, this is not a difficult concept, and if you actually *WERE* nonbinary, you would get that. You would have found your freedom in the honest identification, and stopped feeling like you gotta fuck with us. Or *ARE* you actually nonbinary? I know I’m making a “woman trap” right now, it’s intentional that I didn’t back away from it, cause it’s being myself, and I won’t apologize for it, I *WILL* call attention to it, because doing so is my prerogative, and because POENiSs are so confused and full of misogyny that like, they’d try to say it’s misogynist that I (as a woman) admit (and am proud) that women know how to do this thing (Men don’t... you just don’t, not sorry...), and at the same time, not even realize that acting like women setting “traps” is a “bad” thing, and not legit just how we’ve learned to survive a confusing, gaslighty world of men *IS ITSELF MISOGYNY.* Like, yo, if you’re nonbinary, then stop trying to frame your life as a woman’s, or your experiences as “woman’s experiences.” Did I say “Only women can set ‘traps’, or did I just say “Men can’t.”...? Dude, give it up. And yes, I call other chicks dude too. I call men, women, and nonbinary people dude... The difference is that I do my best to ask if women are okay with it, or wait for them to do it first. I usually reserve it for stoner chicks and lesbians, cause we seem to throw it around more in a gender neutral-*INTENDED* way, and generally not care as much, except that trans women have a *REASON* to care when AFAB people do it, cause we’re *USED* to it being loaded. You can’t act like you can just pretend away the intentions of your word by being like “It’s gender neutral...” OK... that’s true till you put an *INTENT* to use the word *SPECIFICALLY TO GENDER* someone on it... Like I can laugh and call you “ass” with the intention of a friend to make you laugh when I see you being silly and we’re friends and know it’s all innocent and no harm intended, *OR* I can yell “ass” at a stranger with the intention of calling a stranger out on being harmful and full of shit, like... the word itself is pretty neutral between something you can casually throw at a friend and not harm them if they’re cool with the way you’re using it, and a word which can be used to actively and intentionally “bite at” (Read: HARM) someone. And like, a favorite tactic of this brand of POENiS is to act like if they see you calling out *ANOTHER* “crypto-terf” to suddenly try to get your attention and be like “I see you were talking about me, cause I too am “a nonbinary with a vagina,” yes indeed!” and like, No. Just no. No, dude.  (ABSOLUTELY read this like I'm dog/cat shaming. I am.) We were talking about Crypto-POENiS(s) who *INSINCERELY* label themselves as nonbinary, without meaning it (Fuck, a lot probably are nonbinary and even trans-masc, or men and in denial... some legit probably are women...) And when you hop in, all a *WOMAN* like *ME* sees is one of those many things in life which *IMMEDIATELY* makes us realize “Methinks thou dost protest too much.” Like... If you want to know how to talk to a woman, you gotta be able to learn to avoid triggering that, cause when we think “Methinks thou dost protest too much,” not always, and yet still, a pretty fair percentage of the time, we are fuckin’ right. Just like, stop trying to play word games with women, or do you worst... either way, it’s not gonna work XD.

[juliankinney]

━━ ( alex fitzalan + cis male + twenty-two ) oi , have you seen julian kinney around ? he lives in flat 14 in bedroom 4 ? i was meant to meet them this morning at bean me up before our lecture but he didn’t show . no ? well , shit . if you do see them , can you tell them i’m looking for them ? they’re a 4th year computer science student from madrid , spain & you’ll know it’s them because they might just remind you of a stack of unread books , the sound of keyboard typing at three in the morning , coffee creamer in every flavor , & unprescribed pills if that helps at all . just be careful , he can be a little distant , critical , & compulsive sometimes . —- oh don’t look like that , they’re usually ingenious , reliable , & confident most of the time . ✏ y! , 22 , she/her , cst

alright whats up guys, as jd once said, greetings and salutations!! im y and this here is julian, who i’ve known for two hours but adore already anyway. i usually play dumbass boys and he’s no exception, but i like to think he might just be a little less dumb than the rest of them. so lets jump into it!!! ♡

for starters here is his messy pinterest board that i made.. like i said... it is a mess, and still a work in progress but y’all can have it anyway!! (fun fact: was gonna make him texan but pepper called him country boy and i was triggered!!!!!!!!!!)

backstory:

 julian was the conception of two teenagers in love during the 90′s in spain; a local and a tourist. the pair were just seventeen when they became parents but it was a whole ordeal at the time because his father’s side of the family did not want anything to do with this impregnated nobody. it wasn’t his grandfather’s vision!!! his son was supposed to go into adulthood unscathed by his mistakes!!! as you can guess julian’s mom side of the family were your blue-collared society while his father’s side was more white-collared. at the time his mother was a student and helped her own mom with the family tailor shop while her father worked as a cook in a restaurant. on the other end of the spectrum, the kinney’s were in the film industry and of old money. needless to say, the two families had little in common.

the kinney’s tried to pay this girl off but her family was 100% not having it and after many arguments and empty threats they came to an agreement. said agreement was that julian would have his rightful surname and would stay in spain and the family would receive a weekly stipend for his expenses. in return no one would say a thing to the press— which, honestly was only ever a threat because the kinney’s wanted to pretend like nothing had happened. 

and so julian grew up in madrid with a single mother and the help of his grandparents. as far as he knew his father had died shortly after he had been born and had been madly in love with his mother (that part was true). the only reason he didn’t share a name with the rest of his family was because the pair had never married, which, would have been the truth regardless. everything was fine; he grew up working at the family shop, attended school, skipped school, maintained amazing grades while simultaneously spending 1/3rd of the time in detention, lost his virginity to marisol cordova in her lilac colored room, etc. he had the most basic upbringing a kid could have.

then his father died. his real father. and suddenly, on paper, he was well off. it wasn’t easy for his mother to tell him the truth when his grandfather stepped foot into the one story home like he had seventeen years ago with that sour look on his face, but she was forced to. she had no other choice. devastated as she was (and she was truly heartbroken), she told him the story of how one day during the summer of 96′ she met james kinney, and how the next year he came back. then, his grandfather informed him of his father’s will and how he’d have access to his inheritance once he turned eighteen.

it was... a lot to process, and as julian does when he feels overwhelmed, he got angry. he was very upset with his mother and even more so with this old man he was meeting for the first time who kept calling him shit like ‘his only grandson’ and ‘a kinney by blood’. it was infuriating for julian, and his mother further telling him about their weekly allowance among other expenses over the years did not help. at all.

that is how julian found out his father was a successful actor turned director, generally known for an action packed franchise released in the 2000′s. it was mind boggling— he’d turn on the tv only to see a picture of his now dead father on screen, news coverage of the deadly car accident that occurred during en route to manchester on every channel. it just didn’t make any sense and was very hard to feel sad for. besides, his mother had enough sadness for the both of them. at his funeral, the two had to stay in the back while the family tried to come up with a game plan of how things were going to move forward; james’ widow was not happy to see her husbands former lover and child at the scene. 

anyways in spite the fact that julian wanted nothing to do with the kinney’s, his grandfather had other plans. a vision of his own for the only grandchild his son had brought into the world, and that started with schooling. julian graduated and had no plans for college until his grandfather threatened to contest the will if he chose to stray from the path, and they needed the money; so college it was. a college of his grandfather’s choice of course, and what better place than somewhere closed off enough to distance julian from the outer world but elite in its own right? 

his grandfather’s plan basically is to make him successful, and being that julian has no interest in their world, he’s had to compromise and just live with the fact that julian is just going to be your regular everyday man. he’s only really doing all of this because he feels guilt over the years but not guilty enough to tell the world that there’s an extra kinney lying around (last names are so common right!?!??!) . however, he still wants him to be in the family. as in everyone in the direct family knows of him and he gets to be involved in all family affairs, etc, but julian just does not give a fuck about them fksdhjfs specially because of how they fucked over his mom and how james’ widow is so fucking bitter about the will.

ANYWAYS he’s been at the school for four years now, gets his schooling paid by his grandfather but still has a job because pride or whatever, and will hack into your shit!

personality/hc’s

i love him, he’s sweet but also not annoyingly sweet. as in yeah he’s nice and polite but has no problem squaring up due to his short temper. kind of blunt sometimes though, and either is dumb or acts dumb if he says something that might hurt someones feelings. like oh.. sorry you feel that way ksjfsdkln

super smart???? has amazing grades and constantly does his work; knows how to multitask and balance his life out (for the most part... at least until he burns himself out). an intellectual™ . not an eboy but i guess u could say a little bit of a gamer,, has tik tok downloaded on his phone, the dad friend i guess

is either in one end of the spectrum or the other when it comes to socializing. most of the time though he finds it exhausting,, talking is hard but once he does start talking it’s like shut up dude no one cares about javascript 

has a small pill problem,, he’s got to be successful somehow right !! also drinks lots of coffee and is a fan of coffee creamer, does not like the strawberry shortcake creamer though because ew. only tea he will drink is matcha green tea, anything else can suck it. 

has also developed some ~anxious~ feelings , why ? idk, light trauma i guess. his pill usage sure doesn’t help though! loser! ... tbh maybe his anxiousness has grown over the years because he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do after school like he has money (that he tries not to use if i’m being honest, would rather use the money he gains from his job which i haven’t decided what should be. leave me alone), and will have a degree, but he’s still just questioning everything?? things have just been weird

sometime during middle school years (idk whats the equivalent of this in spain, shut up) he got into computers and... i’m not proud of this but his first hack was into this girls account that he liked and bro all he wanted to do was see some titties man thats it i promise. that crush did not work out, obvs.

anyways yes he continued down this computer path and made an app during high school!!! it wasn’t successful at all and he eventually deleted it but good for him coding and shit!!! 

would hack into school systems to help out his buds and their grades. yeah they could have just copied off of him but... where is the fun in that lads 

sometime he be just looking up ‘james kinney interviews’ on youtube just to see who this dude was dshjkg poor lad

can speak english and spanish ,, has that lisp thingy spaniards have i hate it but i guess whatever 

kind of messy honestly, can someone clean his desk 

connections

literally anything just hmu i can’t come up with these things tbh

[callistochan87]

when AmiThere, I’m all caught up, except not because I have to do today’s after grocery shopping and laundry, if that even gets done.

Inktober Day 21, Konnie: I started the one on the left with the goal of just slapping something out, no reference image or anything. Thought it was okay, not great, but okay. Looks a smidge better as a sketch. Then I decided I ought to try to find some sort of reference image. It’s hard because Konnie’s genetics, as written, are horribly mixed, but then I wound up finding this image:

Half-Japanese idol Rola. I know her hair is dyed here, but colouration-wise this is very similar to how I picture Konnie for the most part (although it makes me want to play around with giving her slightly darker hair, as in veering into the light brown/dark blonde territory) So I doodled this general pose as well. I couldn’t figure out how tf to draw her usual side braid (note: I can’t remember shit, the braid was way shorter than I remembered) I just drew her hair down and...wow, that’s not a look I expected at all.

I was thinking for a bit that it was a bit weird that the group’s fightingest, most tomboyish character had this long hair (I think I had a line in there about her parents not wanting her to cut it short, but see above about my memory), which would obviously be a huge issue in any real fight (free rope for your opponent!), and wondered why she didn’t have shorter hair, like even shoulder-length or something. Then I sort of realized that, hello, I have uber-short hair, it’s a lot of work. I have to go get it cut every 4-6 weeks, usually veering closer to the 4-week mark. I can’t see Konnie wanting to do that kind of upkeep, even on a “longer” style that might require less trimming. Just not her thing.

It is kind of funny how far she’s come. @erinhime83​ pointed out, she was pretty sedate in the earliest version, as all my characters start out as because I’m a fucking doormat, got a little more feisty (as much as I hate that word, I can’t think of anything else) in later versions, despite the whole “she’s an alien but basically also in a third world country, time to marry at 15 because even aliens have sexism ok”...thing. The fighting went down in this version, but she’s fighting a metaphorical battle against the ~Old Country~ I guess. Except I haven’t quite figure out why the technologically-advanced civilization still has the same old sexism and patriarchy as our world except I kind of also have, but whatever, she’s fighting a battle against her parents and her brother who sort of expect her to be something she’s not, because that’s what Women Do, and in their mind, the less she stands out, the safer she will be. Except, you know, not. Ask Konnie how that worked out. Just don’t mention she broke her leg (at the end of the second version) doing something stupid, because then they won’t listen, even if the rest of it is true.

Inktober Day 22, Dev: He turned out hot here, which is good. 3/4 view is clearly my strong suit, as you can tell by the infinite amount of time I drew it and also why challenge yourself when you can make things look insta-good just by doing this one weird trick??? I think @erinhime83​ suggested she didn’t see him as hot, which is super weird, because I clearly can. Wavy hair obviously makes someone 1000x hotter, and her has wavy hair in spades. Sure, I drew it nicely, probably in reality it would veer more towards the “curly, frizzy” side of the spectrum rather than the genteel Grecian-style waves I drew here, but shush, let me have my fantasy. Hot nerds are clearly A Thing, and I have decided Dev is one.

Even though...well, I don’t know too much about him? Sure, he’s Kai’s brother and he loves her and wants to protect her, but either it’s been a while or he didn’t do anything super major. I feel like I can’t re,ember much about him. Kai’s got an emotional connection to him, but she also has an emotional connection to Talia, and because Talia and Dev are cute together, that’s mostly where I get my enjoyment from. It’s hard to describe. I mean I don;t dislike his character, I just find it hard to think of him too much because a lot of the big moments are either Kai and Dylan, or Kai in a group. Like I said I haven’t reread Earthia in ages though.

Inktober Day 23, Keiko: I had an image in my head, this was not it, but this is what we got. Just sort of playing around with Keiko’s hair here, giving her more of a Hotaru kind of look. Then I thought “well, that’s not fair to keep randomly tinkering with designs, just draw her straight,” so I drew her old hairstyle (Keiko Kitagawa as a ref, because I always sort of pictured her?) I realized that I didn’t hate the old hairstyles as much as I thought, I just hate the shitty reference image that hasn’t aged well. Everyone has too-large eyes and full lips, even though they don’t all need full lips. So the layered style doesn’t actually look too bad at all, not that you can tell when I’ve blocked it in like this. Sweater-wise, because it’s -10 here this morning and clearly Sweater Weather, the first one was sort of lifted from a big squishy-looking one my supervisor has and that I secretly sort of envy. The one with her usual hairstyle is one I have, sort of a dove-grey with white/cream lace running down the sides there. And the necklace...ehh, seems like almost all of the other girls have them so she gets one even though she doesn’t need it.

Story-wise I’ve never found much to do with Keiko though. She was always just sort of there, bouncing around from position to position. It makes just as much sense to make her one of the girls, but I could easily make her straight-up alien (although even there, it’d be minor) or just axe her completely, like Carmen. Which makes me sad, because I changed very little about the main characters for years now, and considering she’s been here since the beginning it would feel weird to write a story without her, but I just might. (Like I know the goal is just to vomit words all of November and probably delete it all when I’m done, but I’m also still thinking of a rewrite, even if I know I won’t be able to prepare anything at this point, not between Inktober and my other stuff. So in my head I’m trying to conceive of a story without them there (it’d be a bit more manageable than writing, and since Keiko’s main “interest” or “role” semi-overlaps with Shelby, wouldn’t lose too much if cut), and I have a feeling they might not show up as much, because in my head I’m already trying to think of them as not there.

Which is a shame. The designs are cute. Maybe Carmen and Keiko need a story to themselves or something. :P

Inktober Day 24, Gaius: He turned out stupid here but that’s entirely my own fault for using a bizarre ref image. Not bad otherwise though. Gaius is one of those characters, like Dev, that I don’t think much of because his real push is his connection to Aerona, whom Kai and the reader both have a connection with. I mean I like him well enough but he doesn’t stand out as a major character or anything. I kind of liked when he was a Federation officer, even though I can see why he’s a rebel in this version. The structure of being an officer and having a lot of stuff take place on a Federation ship gave Gaius more of a chance to shine, I think. I don’t know if that makes sense. The design looks good though, even if I think I messed up the collar (not wide enough??)

Inktober Day 25, Dr. Thanatos: Man, Thanatos has been around from, if not the beginning (although...maybe? In a different form?) then pretty close. His basic design and colouration hasn’t changed terribly much either, a symptom of how I don’t bother changing things unless I’m really dissatisfied. Sure he started out as something of a ghost or spirit, because my works are defined by nothing if not an oddly spiritual side and a supernatural presence, but that sort of got axed when I decided he wasn’t going to be the spirit of some long-dead guy or the personification of Death in the CS ‘verse, but instead a normal guy with an incongruously Greek nickname. (Then again, so does Serena, and Theophanes, etc. Considering the rest of Veive is very much Etruscan-based the name ‘Thanatos’ and ‘Serena’ stick out like sore thumbs. Maybe I should change it, or at the very least suggest that his nickname literally isn’t “Thanatos”, but a name the mental translator is supplying based off the listener’s pre-existing knowledge--like the actual name is sort of the name for an old death god in their culture, due to whatever reason. however people gets nicknames, that the translator used “Thanatos” as a translation, even if it’s not literal/.

I like his design. I accidentally doodled him once with a side part and liked it way too much. Also he has stupid future glasses in an earlier design that got scrapped that I brought back for the lulz. I think they took good on him, and considering their advancement (he’s said to have eye implants to help him see, because otherwise he would need glasses), I would imagine choosing glasses would be more of a personal/stylistic choice rather than a need. The sweater...well, I’ve drawn him in a couple, but I couldn’t remember the neckline for the one, except that it was something like this except not. Trust me, he looks hot here, but he’s also a scientist; things like “clean clothes” and “coordinated outfits” are really beyond him most days. Probably why he wears black and white, and whatever the Veive equivalent of jeans is, like...daily. So imagine that sweater has been sitting on the back of a chair for a week or two, and is probably wrinkled, he will look less hot, I assure you.

Also he’s got some sort of sketchy past based off of the fact that in previous versions, his character had a sketchy, pretty abusive (with him being in the position of less power and receiving the abuse) relationship with Amina, and that’s sort of persisted here. Except not, because Amina’s dead in the Prime timeline, but there was something sketchy with his experiments that made people a bit uneasy, but not enough to actually cut him off from funding (the second his funding went there’d be no more story, because someone’s got to pay for all this science, and he sure as shit can’t do that with an instructor’s salary.)

I think I had him planned to be the main villain of the first book. Oh, not a straight-up villain; I rarely write those. No, he was supposed to be a villain in the sense that he was blocking the Gang from their goals, or withholding information or something. He was a villain in the sense that he opposed the group, not out of hatred but out of an overbearing desire to keep them safe (he’s not cruel, he’s not mean, even if people allege such; he can tell they’re just kids, really, and he doesn’t want them to get hurt, especially since they are in a world completely unfamiliar and perhaps almost hostile to them, so of course he has to do all of these things, he brought them here, he’s responsible for them, he has to keep them safe from the other dimensions, let alone their own. So what if their feelings are hurt or they sustain minor injuries? Easily treatable, and the long-term benefits outweigh the short-term inconveniences)

But then I wrote Amina into the draft and really, the second she’s in there any sort of villainy goes straight out the window. She’s fairly one-dimensional as a villain but she;’s obviously malevolent compared to him so that takes him down a peg.

Also, I’ve doodled versions of Thanatos Delta and Thanatos Omega before. Delta was from the world dominated by military dictatorships, so it makes sense Veive Delta would become something like it too. Anki, the space station, always existed in a sort of rigid, military-esque hierarchy, with everyone needing to contribute to survival or else everyone would fucking die, because a space station is difficult to maintain and repair. I imagine Veive would be like that too; in prime timeline they’ve stabilized enough that the “everyone needs to pitch in to keep this machine running” has slowly slipped over the decades; in Delta, it never went away. Thanatos Delta, seen before before he got tied up with this experiment nonsense, probably would have either been assigned, based on standardized test scores, or applied to, say, an Engineering department or something similar for an apprenticeship once he was done with secondary schooling. The concept of going to get a higher degree wouldn’t ordinarily be open to him unless a) there was a need to be filled, that is, he would bring his supervisor proof that he had a research plan in mind and that said research could prove useful, or b) He rose in the ranks enough that it’d be necessary to keep doing his job. So he probably wouldn’t be a doctor, just sort of an apprentice, like everyone else. Sure, he may have been bright enough or motivated enough or talented enough for his superiors to take notice and recommend he go and get his degree, but he very well might not have been, too, just living out his life as a blue-collar worker sort of thing.

But that basically just explains why his work jumpsuit looks vaguely like a military uniform. It sort of is.

I like the concepot that the other dimensions actually have a lot more subtle differences than people realize. People saw the major events of the Delta timeline and just assumed, “oh, this is a universe where General Aloisburg never got overthrown and Anki Station began to expand into this massive military machine, as would have obviously happened here if not for the political turmoil, yes, of course,” except the more you look at the little details, the more this story starts to fall apart: like how the dates General Aloisburg was elected in Prime and when he was elected in Delta are vastly different, and the timelines actually don’t match up at all--Aloisburg Delta was elected as a later date than Aloisburg Prime, and having learned from his younger self’s mistakes and being a bit more cautious, was able to edge out any other political opponents in a way that Aloisburg Prime wasn’t able to do--because Prime was brilliant; he took power quickly, but when he was a still younger man, and he made several mistakes that lead to his outing.

Or the fact that, say, perhaps Thanatos Delta’s father didn’t die when he was eighteen, he died earlier, or later, or not at all, which wouldn’t make sense if Delta was supposed to be the same as Prime up until a certain point only a few decades ago. 99.99999999% of people don’t know anything about the different timelines, or even that they exist, and those that do typically don’t bother looking close enough to spot those little details that might make them question the common story. So perhaps Thanatos Delta isn’t as similar to Thanatos Prime as one would think. At the very least, he wasn’t trained in astrophysics and probably doesn’t understand most of it, but when Amina Delta got a hold of him, guess what his new specialty was??? You mean you don’t know anything about it? Here’s a textbook and a taped intro course from the Lyceum; learn fast.

Inktober Day 25 Bonus: No reason behind this. I was just thinking I wasn’t super stoked for the upcoming week, because...eh, Marcus, Marcus could be cut too, I don’t want to finish out the month with him, I’d rather draw more animal aliens, because that’s fun, and Dr. Max (on doing some skimming) was pretty funny. he was too old to give a shit about most things and old enough that people let him do whatever the fuck he wanted because he was going to die soon anyway.

This isn’t polished at all, the proportions are janky as fuck., but it looks close enough to what I picture. Sort of I see the Biralo as sort of a sister species to the Erebians (sort of like the relationship of Neanderthals to humans), in that they probably had a common genetic ancestor millennia ago, it’s just the Elders decided to start messing with things and wound up putting the Biralo on another planet...a planet orbiting close to a very bright star (brighter and hotter than our Sun), so the UV index on that planet is enough that humans need total radiation protection, and even the comparatively radiation-resistant Erebians think, “well, the sun’s quite bright, maybe I should cover up and put on some SPF 100.” So, in order to combat this, instead of losing their hair like the Erebians did, when the moved underground, the Biralo just evolved a fuckton more. You can see this in the way I draw Serena--the idea being that the hairs in front are so short is because the Erebians can’t really grow their hair past a certain point, so the earlier layers are really just like baby hairs or something, that’s as long as they’ll get. Serena probably has more hair on her head because she walks bipdeal all the time and because a head of hair is good radiation protection, but even then there’s a limit to how much her fur/hair will grow. Those limits...are much less on Dr. Max. Sure, the fur on his body usually only has a set length, but the fur on his head? No problemo. (Also apparently the Erebians gained a finger along the way somewhere.)

He’s obviously feline-based, but you can see the similarities in the way I draw his face. I picture him now with a black nose (extra melanin = more sun protection) and black claws, even though I described them as gross and yellowish originally. Green eyes and he’s so old his fur is now all white, rather than the spotted calico pattern it was in his youth. I see his limbs as all knobbly and arthritic, hence the cane, not sure if that came across though. Also I fucked up his feet somehow, I feel like he shouldn’t have that heel thing. He moved to Veive in his older age because Veive’s lower gravity was easier on his arthritis, plus I imagine if he fell he’s much less likely to break a hip or something. Not that it matter, since his children and maybe his grandchildren are all dead, and the several generations after him are distant enough that they don’t really keep in touch except maybe on birthdays, he’s free to do whatever he likes otherwise.

ALSO he’s wearing a lab coat, because he is a doctor, a legit medical doctor, but...you know, not much else. His species doesn’t really wear clothes, because there’s no evolutionary pressure to do so (their hair protects from UV and keeps them warm, and the planet is warm enough that the fur is sufficient), so they really don’t have a nudity taboo (and if they need to carry things, they have invented bags, or maybe something like ponchos or loose wraps for inclement or especially cold weather). I wanted aliens who weren’t just cat people but also had a distinct cultural difference as wel. So, no nudity taboo. On a planet full of humans and Erebians (who have some level of nudity taboo, although to a lesser extent, and even then everyone thinks humanity just passed its weirdness onto them as far as that’s concerned). Humans kind of don’t like it when you walk around with your wang just hanging out (let alone if it looks more like a cat’s), so usually if he’s wearing the lab coat, and it’s buttoned up...yeah. But some days he just really doesn’t want to wear that, so to accommodate he will wear that sort of thong. He is even considerate enough to make it white like his fur so you don’t immediately notice. Once you see it you can’t unsee it, but a passing glance can make you not notice it because it blends in.

Appearance-wise, I see his species as looking like Maine Coons, with the large ruff at the chest and the sort of...sideburns? It obviously doesn’t translate well to human proportions, but I see the “sideburns” as being sort of the key sex difference: men develop them more/longer/at all, and maybe a bigger fluff of fur on the chest/woman develop small chest fluffs and no sideburns. The linework was getting really messed up and I was having a hard time telling wtf I was even drawing any more so I did that front doodle to sort of give me a better idea of what I was trying to capture. Still a work in progress, but not terrible concept.

[neuxue]

Wheel of Time liveblogging: The Gathering Storm ch 39

VERIN!

Chapter 39: A Visit from Verin Sedai

Where were we? Oh yes.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.

“You never held the Oath Rod,” Egwene accused her.

Odd that that’s the first conclusion she jumps to. Verin has the ageless face, after all; she must have sworn oaths of some sort. Then again, I suppose Egwene can be forgiven for being thrown a little by that reveal. And for not wanting to jump to the other conclusion that might immediately come to mind.

“I don’t trust you,” Egwene found herself blurting. I don’t think I ever have.” “Very wise,” Verin said, sipping her tea. It was not a scent Egwene recognised. “I am, after all, of the Black Ajah.”

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

She!

She just!

Did that!

Just came right out and said it. I waited ELEVEN BOOKS to find out what her deal was. ELEVEN BOOKS of wondering and suspecting and second-guessing and she just SAYS IT. LIKE THAT. RIGHT THERE.

WELL NOW WE KNOW, I GUESS.

Just. Well played. So very, very well played. One of the characters who held her cards closest to the chest all series, one of the most difficult to pin down, and so of coursethe reveal is on her own terms, direct and straightforward and stunning even if it’s not completely surprising.

Well. Played.

Also I’m suspicious of how often and pointedly the tea she’s drinking has been mentioned. The scent you don’t recognise is called foreshadowing, Egwene.

Egwene felt a sudden chill, like an ice cold spike pounded directly through her back and down into her chest.

Damn it Brandon get your hemalurgy out of my WoT.

Verin was Black. Light!

Nice forced juxtaposition in the phrasing there.

Those eyes that always had seemed to know too much. What better way to hide than as an unassuming Brown, constantly dismissed by the other sisters because of your distracted, scholarly ways?

Indeed. Who looks too closely at the absentminded scholar? Who suspects duplicity of a plump older woman with ink smudges on her dress? Who thinks too hard on disturbing comments made by a distracted Brown with little attention to tact? Verin, and people like Verin, are so easily…not even overlookedso much as set aside. I wonder, sometimes, why we’re so quick in times of crisis or uncertainty to disregard those who have made it the subject of their life’s work and study. Why we hold so strongly to this notion that scholarship means setting oneself aside from the ‘real world’, even when, without the real world, there would be nothing to study.

It’s my whole thing with the ‘lol the mapmaker can’t actually navigate’ nonsense with Roidelle a few chapters back. Like listen, fuck you, I can read and use just about any map you give me. I can navigate by the stars in either hemisphere. You think I spent my Ivory Tower Years studying the earth without getting my hands dirty? I did not haul a literal bucket full of shit through a jungle in volcano-melted shoes for this.

(Yes, there are parts of academia that are, to put it kindly, Out Of Touch, and whose publications are more self-referential and inbred than your average European monarchy. But the ease with which we write off ‘scholars’ and ‘academics’ as hopeless in all matters relating to the Real World is kind of mind-boggling.)

Anyway. Rather than diving headfirst into an essay on the insidious nature of anti-intellectualism, I’ll just say…Verin really did have the perfect disguise.

Not quite as much to the reader – it’s been very much made clear that she was up to something and that the distracted-and-muddled act was very much an act – but in-world? Even in ourworld, without the insight given by the narrative, who would have looked twice?

Verin, of course, just responds to Egwene’s shock with possibly the most English thing she could possibly say aside from ‘shit weather we’re having, isn’t it?’:

“My, but this is good tea.”

I love her.

What a troll.

She just SHOWED UP IN EGWENE’S ROOM, DRINKING TEA, AND ANNOUNCED THAT SHE’S BLACK AJAH. AFTER ELEVEN BOOKS. OF GIVING AWAY NOTHING. EVEN IN HER THOUGHTS.

She is, truly, On Another Level.

I’m also just running through everything she’s ever done or said or thought in the last eleven books with the certainty of hindsight and my brain feels a little bit like one of those flipbooks you play with as a kid.

Just…*shakes head* well fucking played, Verin.

“I would offer you some tea, but I sincerely doubt you want any of what I’m having.”

Even I don’t mention tea as frequently as it’s been mentioned in these last two or three pages. What exactly is in that tea, Verin?

Egwene’s still in panic mode, and I love the way this is played out, with her thoughts scattered and frantic, juxtaposed against Verin’s calm, collected, and utterly shocking matter-of-fact, conversational, mild statements.

But while Egwene – I suppose understandably – sees Verin immediately as a threat after that admission, I…don’t.

“I compliment you on what you’ve done here, Egwene.”

‘I’m Black Ajah, but more importantly, I love what you’ve done with the room! Such a good eye for colour, and the minimalist style is so in right now. Tea?’

When you get an opportunity like this, you don’t squander it. And she is making the absolute most of her chance here, and I honestly don’t even blame her. She could say something reassuring, but where’s the fun in that? Besides, Verin has always dealt in truths, not platitudes.

I love her, you guys. I love her so much.

“It was more important to continue my research and keep an eye on young al’Thor. He’s a fiery one”

TOO. SOON.

That was rude. Fuck. Wow. Okay.

“I’m not certain he understands how the Great Lord works. Not all evil is as…obvious as the Chosen. The Forsaken, as you’d call them.”

Two things here. One: there is absolutely no way Verin is truly aligned with the Shadow. Two: she gets it. She understands what’s going on, with Rand and even, I think, with how the Shadow is manipulating him without ever having to truly turn him.

“I’m convinced that it isn’t intelligence, craftiness, or skill that makes one Chosen—though of course, those things are important. No, I believe it is selfishness the Great Lord seeks in his greatest leaders.”

YES. THIS.

THIS, EXACTLY.

Of course Verin is the one to put it into words so clearly. With one exception, they are so focused on their own power and their own promised rewards and their own plans and successes and positions of favour that they don’t even see the game they’re truly playing. They serve themselves, not a cause, and because they are intelligent and crafty and skilled, they become incredibly effective pawns in that game, set on a board they hardly understand and let loose to serve a purpose they never truly consider because they are so hell-bent on their own. And so they will destroy the world and themselves with it and never notice until their own flames consume them.

It’s also an interesting statement to consider in the context of Rand, given that Verin has just voiced her worries that he doesn’t understand how the Great Lord works.

Because Rand has an…interesting relationship with selfishness and altruism. Especially now. He has pushed himself into a state of literal selflessness – total denial of the existence of a self – but for the sake of self-preservation. He did it because it hurt too much to hold on to anything of who he was, to let himself feel. So it’s a selfish motivator…and yet, the motivation behind that is a layer of altruism, because that need for survival arises from a need to fulfil his duty to a selfless cause.

And so we go around and around in circles; is he selfish or selfless in his choice to leave his humanity and life and redemption behind? Is it more selfish to seek death or survival, to martyr himself or to endure, to live for something or to die for it?

Listen, I’m a scientist and a programmer and an atheist, and also I cannot get enough of spiralling questions of eschatology and metaphysics and fate in fiction. It’s a thing.

(And that’s not even getting into my obsession with divinity as an entire concept).

But back to the Forsaken. I think Verin has it absolutely right here – power and cunning and other abilities are all well and good, but if you want a group of people you can control and predict and move around like the pawns they are (while they believe themselves to be the players, and masters of the game), selfishness is a perfect trait to select for.

Wise of Verin to see that.

And, back to Rand for just a moment here, maybe that’s part of where he struggles: he’s too close to the Forsaken in his knowledge of them from Lews Therin’s memories to take that step back and view them as an outside observer, yet at the same time he’s so far on the other side of the spectrum in terms of motivations to see this unifying trait and understand how it works and how to use it.

“The Chosen are predictable, but the Great Lord is anything but. Even after decades of study, I can’t be certain exactly what he wants or why he wants it.”

Because, unless you’re Moridin, I think it would break your mind to truly understand what it is he wants. None of the Chosen seem to fully understand it either, because if they did, would they still fight for it? Total destruction of everything, a world remade in the image of chaos, wouldn’t serve any of their goals. And yet because of that selfishness, they are made to serve precisely that cause, and are kept blind by their own narrow ambitions to what end they truly work towards.

“And what does this have to do with me?” Egwene asked.

“Not much,” Verin said, tsking at herself. “I’m afraid I let myself get sidetracked.”

In which Verin’s tangents are more insightful than many character’s introspection. Not to mention about a hundred times more communicative, suddenly. I love when an enigma of a character finally decides it’s time to spill her secrets. It’s so satisfying.

Verin’s so proud of Egwene for what she’s done with the Tower. It’s lovely to see, not just to have someone in a position to recognise and appreciate what Egwene has managed to do, but to have it be someone who’s known Egwene since even before she went to Tar Valon, someone who watched her first learnings and chided her for her early mistakes, and also who knows and understands what’s going on, on a level that seems to be far deeper than most Aes Sedai. Verin sees. And so her praise is worth far more than most. Especially now, when she seems to be so sure that time is short, when she’s making her final play.

Egwene’s still trying to figure out what the hell is even going on here, and…

Oh.

“A number of years ago, I faced a decision. I found myself in a position where I could either take the oaths to the Dark One, or I could reveal that I had actually never wanted—or intended—to do so, whereupon I would have been executed.”

ALL THE SECRETS COME OUT.

DOUBLE AGENT VERIN.

So this was the mistake she alluded to in her thoughts. This is why she’s thought so many times about how sometimes you just have to make the best of the situation you’re given.

“Many would have simply opted for death. I, however, saw this as an opportunity. You see, one rarely has such a chance as this, to study a beast from inside its heart, to see really what makes the blood flow. To discover where all of the little veins and vessels lead. Quite an extraordinary experience.”

“Wait,” Egwene said. “You joined the Black Ajah to study them?”

YES!!!!!!!!!!

VERINNNNN!!!!!!!!!!

THIS IS EVERYTHING I EVER WANTED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The scholar driven by a desire for knowledge, faced with the consequences of that search, and choosing to push forward anyway, to sacrifice herself not by dying but by living, and swearing herself to a cause she never wanted to join, and seeing it as an opportunity. To keep studying them. HOW FUCKING AWESOME IS SHE?

“Tomas. Does he know what you’ve done?”

“He was a Darkfriend himself, child,” Verin said. “Wanting a way out. Well, there really isn’t a way out, not once the Great Lord has his claws in you. But there was a way to fight, to make up a little of what you’ve done. I offered that chance to Tomas, and I believe he was quite grateful to me for it.”

No man can walk so long in the Shadow…I wonder if Ingtar knew.

It’s such a lovely little addition to this whole reveal; Tomas is a fairly minor character, but it adds that extra bit of depth to an already fantastic scene that she found a way to offer him some small form of redemption, by joining her in hers. It ties everything together just that little bit more. There may not be a way out, but there is a way to go forwards, a way to fight.

Verin was a Darkfriend…but not one at the same time.

It’s not so different from Ingtar’s choice, really. It’s just the timeframe that’s different.

“You said he ‘was’ quite grateful to you?”

And, like Ingtar’s choice, I don’t think there’s much chance of this not being a fatal one.

“The oaths one makes to the Great Lord are quite specific,” she finally continued. “And, when they are placed upon one who can channel, they are quite binding. Impossible to break. You can double-cross other Darkfriends, you can turn against the Chosen if you can justify it. Selfishness must be preserved. But you can never betray him.”

I just love the way she gets so cleanly to the heart of it with her observations of the role of selfishness. It explains so much, so neatly. And yet they are all bound, though they claim to set themselves above everyone else; all of them must serve, in the end, but they are so easily manipulated into believing that they rule.

She looked up, meeting Egwene’s eyes. “‘I sear not to betray the Great Lord, to keep my secrets until the hour of my death.’ That was what I promised. Do you see?”

…oh.

Oh, Verin.

The tea is poison and this is her final play. Killing herself in order to betray all of her secrets, because it’s the one loophole open to her. The only way to share the knowledge she spent decades collecting.

Decades of secrecy and evasion, of hiding behind that distracted scholarly mask, of observing, unseen, from within. And it all ends here, in a single hour of honesty, with the captive Amyrlin she can look at and be proud of.

VEEEEEERRRRRRRRIIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNNNNNNNN

She joined them to stay alive because the alternative was death and now she’s choosing her own death as a way of allowing herself to betray them THIS IS TOO MUCH.

“A curious hole in the oaths,” Verin said softly. “To allow one to effect a betrayal in the final hour of one’s life. I cannot help wondering if the Great Lord knows of it. Why wouldn’t he close that hole?”

Because no one selfish enough to serve him would ever think to use it. Because to use it would be an act of absolute altruism, anathema to any in a position to do so.

Except Verin.

“Perhaps he doesn’t see it as threatening,” Egwene said, opening her eyes. “After all, what kind of Darkfriend would kill themselves in order to advance the greater good? It doesn’t seem the kind of thing his followers would consider.”

What she said.

Or…maybe it’s almost meant as a taunt, a cruel reminder of the cost of betrayal. A way of saying to those who might be considering it, who might be regretting their choice, ‘you can betray me but to do so demands your death’. A loophole kept as a warning sign, and a way of making any who might be wavering turn back.

Egwene shook her head. It seemed such a tragedy. “You come to me to confess, killing yourself in a final quest for redemption?”

Not quite, I don’t think. She wouldn’t waste all those years just to gain peace of mind in a confession. She’s come to share knowledge.

IN THE FORM OF HER NOTEBOOKS.

ALL HER NOTES.

THIS IS GOING TO BE GOOD.

“Every woman in the Brown,” Verin said, “seeks to produce something lasting. Research or study that will be meaningful. Others often accuse us of ignoring the world around us. They think we only look backward. Well, that is inaccurate. If we are distracted, it is because we look forward, toward those who will come. And the information, the knowledge we gather…we leave it for them. The other Ajahs worry about making today better; we yearn to make tomorrow better.”

That, right there, is a perfect and utterly lovely redemption of the stereotype of the scholar. Thank you for this.

The desire to leave something lasting, to not just know but to share that knowledge with those who come after, to lay the foundations for future generations to learn from and to learn beyond. A distractedness that comes not from ignoring the world but from looking to its future. A study of the past or the present for the purpose of that future. This is absolutely beautiful. I want it framed on my wall.

I love Verin so much.

“That tome is the…work. My work. The work of my life.”

The work she is quite literally giving her life for. It’s sad but there’s this sense of absolute triumph to it as well.

“Names, locations, explanations,” Verin said. “Everything I learned about them. About the leaders among the Darkfriends, about the Black Ajah. The prophecies they believe, the goals and motivations of the separate factions. Along with a list, at the back, of every Black Ajah sister I could identify.”

And with that one book, with this one hour, with this single but incredible act of betrayal that should be impossible, she’s just dealt a potentially crippling blow to the Shadow.

It costs her life, but she’s done what so many aspire to: created something that could change the future. All that knowledge she gained, all those years of studying, and now she can leave it in the hands of someone who can use it. She can quite literally hand it to the next generation, leave the knowledge she gathered in the hands of the one who will shape the future. It’s a quite victory, witnessed only by Egwene, but what a victory it is.

I. LOVE. VERIN. SO. MUCH.

I just.

I love this tone of triumphant sadness, of a sacrifice that is the exact opposite of in vain. She’s dying for this, but in doing so she’s achieving the the epitome of her Ajah’s ideals. She’s carrying out the most thorough betrayal the Shadow has perhaps ever seen, and handing Egwene information no other Aes Sedai has even come close to managing to uncover.

Her life’s work is thorough and practical and meaningful and could quite literally help save the world.

“I doubt I caught them all,” Verin said, smiling. “But I think I got the large majority of them. I promise you, Egwene. I can be quitethorough.”

And this is one of those things that could so easily tip over into deus ex machina territory – handing a protagonist a list of everyone in the secret evil organisation that’s been causing problems for the whole series and also several centuries previously, right as we move into the final act? Giving her a list that multiple characters and plotlines have been spent trying to find even part of? – and yet manages to avoid that entirely because of how perfectly Verin’s character has been written since the beginning.

Because this doesn’t even remotely come out of nowhere. This has been seeded from the very start, even if I never would have been able to say that this is specifically what it was going to come to. Verin’s been there almost from the beginning, and she’s been so clearly up to something, yet in a way that never quite reveals exactly what…but the fact that she’s been around, and keeping the reader guessing, makes this kind of reveal work. Because you know that somekind of reveal must be coming. And everything she’s done up until now fits so perfectly in hindsight, and makes absolute sense, and it all feels like a natural and surprising-yet-inevitable end to her storyline.

It doesn’t come out of nowhere; it just finishes and ties off what has been there all along.

Egwene looked down at the books with awe. Incredible! Light, but this was a treasure greater than any king’s hoard. A treasure as great as the Horn of Valere itself. She looked up, tears in her eyes, imagining a life spent among the Black, always watching, recording, and working for the good of all.

“Oh, don’t go doing that,” Verin said.

I mean, if I were someone who cried at books, I’m pretty sure I’d be doing the same.

I’m glad that not only does Verin see and understand and and appreciate all that Egwene has done, when so few others are really in a position to, but Egwene understands just how much Verin has done and sacrificed, and what it means.

“This is worth one woman’s life. Few people have had a chance to create something as useful, and as wonderful, as that book you hold. We all seek to change the future, Egwene. I think I might just have a chance at doing so.”

And I’m glad that Verin herself understands just how much of a victory this is, and sees it as such. This is worth her death, and she knows it, and so there is a sense of peace and acceptance rather than tragedy.

Magic bookmark! I want one.

“I will admit that the poison was a backup plan,” Verin said. “I am not eager for death; there are still things I need to do. Fortunately, I have set several of them in motion to be…seen to, in case I do not return. Regardless, my first plan was to find the Oath Rod, then see if I could use it to remove the Great Lord’s oaths. The Oath Rod appears to have gone missing, unfortunately.”

Saerin, Egwene thought, and the others.

How beautifully ironic. They’re using the Oath Rod to try to find the Black Ajah, but because they have it, a Black Ajah double agent couldn’t use it to free herself of the oaths preventing her from betraying the Black Ajah without killing herself.

Also, the Oath Rod itself seems like a bigger loophole than the ‘hour of my death’ phrasing. Or would a Black sister not be able to voluntarily free herself from her oaths because to do so would be a betrayal of the Dark One? Maybe it only worked with Talene and any others because they didn’t decide to renounce all oaths that bound them; they were forced to? Otherwise it seems like a huge vulnerability, to swear Black Ajah members to these binding oaths but leave them free to unbind themselves should they so choose.

Verin, at least, seems to think it might not have worked, even if she hoped it would.

What are the other oaths they take, I wonder?

“One of the Chosen is in the Tower, child. It’s Mesaana, I’m certain of it. I had hoped to be able to bring you the name she was hiding under, but the two times I met with her, she was shrouded to the point that I couldn’t tell.”

I mean, I think you can be forgiven for not uncovering the secret identity of the Forsaken you’ve identified in the Tower, given everything else you’ve done, Verin. I’m also anything but sure of who Mesaana’s hiding as. I suspected the Brown who helped Elaida with the coup, but now I can’t even remember her name (which is kind of unlike me; I have crap memory for people’s names IRL but I’m great with fictional characters) so that tells you how sure I am.

“So many decisions you must make, for one so young.” […]

“Thank you, Verin. Thank you for choosing me to carry this burden.”

Verin smiled faintly. “You did very well with the previous tidbits I gave you. That was quite the interesting situation. The Amyrlin commanded that I give you information to hunt the Black sisters who fled the Tower, so I had to comply, even though the leadership of the Black was frustrated by the order. I wasn’t supposed to give you the dreaming ter’angreal, you know. But I’ve always had a feeling about you.”

It is a lovely way of bringing so many things full circle here. Egwene being set to hunt the Black Ajah all the way back in TDR, and Verin giving her the information, and choosing to trust her with the dream ter’angreal…and now Verin coming to her, and choosing to trust her with her life’s work and her secret and her redemption, and handing her the key to the puzzle she was set to all that time ago.

And this whole scene has been full of this sense of mutual recognition and understanding and respect between them; Verin of what Egwene has done and Egwene of what Verin is doing here, with her last act, and what it means.

So much trust, and oh, how it is rewarded.

Trust usually is, in these books, on the rare occasions that it happens.

“You will be Amyrlin. I’m confident of it. And an Amyrlin should be well armed with knowledge. That, among all things, is the most sacred duty of the Brown—to arm the world with knowledge.”

HAVE I MENTIONED THAT LOVE THIS? BECAUSE I LOVE THIS. THIS IS SO GOOD. It’s just a slight…shifting of angles, in a sense, on the usual perception of Browns, but it casts so much in a different light, and it’s beautiful. We’ve almost exclusively seen the Brown from an outside perspective, and they almost always are portrayed as distracted, esoteric, intelligent but more caught up in knowledge than in anything ‘useful’, absentminded…and Verin doesn’t contradict that so much as shine a light on everything behind it. She gives the Brown Ajah depth, and with that, purpose and meaning and value. To arm the world with knowledge. That is a sacred duty, and a necessary one, whatever the knowledge may be.

It’s what Rand himself was trying to do, by setting up his schools in order to try to preserve something against another Breaking of the World.

And it’s just so, so nice to see, after twelve books of fond disdain for the Brown Ajah. To have them redeemed this way, illuminated this way. To have the narrative itself illustrate the fallacy of such a limited view of scholarship and knowledge.

“I’m still one of them. Please see that they know, although the word Black may brand my name forever, my soul is Brown. Tell them…”

“I will, Verin,” Egwene promised. “But your soul is not Brown. I can see it.” Her eyes fluttered open, meeting Egwene’s, a frown creasing her forehead.

“Your soul is of a pure white, Verin,” Egwene said softly, “Like the Light itself.”

Verin smiled, and her eyes closed.

Ahhhhhhhh.

What a perfect farewell to such a fantastic character.

It’s a completely different context and manner of death, but it still puts me in mind of Ingtar, and his final redemption. The way his last words were ‘for the Light, and Shinowa’ as he turned at last away from the Shadow, after Rand offered him understanding and his blessing and, through that, redemption. Egwene does something similar here, in promising to let the others know the truth—and what a beautifully sad last request that is, to have done so much and to just want it known that she was truly of her Ajah, that she did what she did in the service of the Light—and in that last evocation of the Light, and the sense of peace it brings.

Goodbye, Verin. You were every kind of awesome and you will be missed. But damn, what a way to go.

It felt callous to double-check, but there were some poisons which could make one appear to be dead and breathe only very shallowly, and if Verin had wanted to trick Egwene and point a finger at the wrong sisters, this would have been a wonderful method. Callous indeed to double-check, and it made Egwene feel sick, but she was Amyrlin. She did that which was difficult and considered all possibilities.

Callous, but good to be certain. She trusts Verin, and admits and accepts that trust…but that doesn’t stop her from doing the pragmatic thing just in case. And yet – perhaps more importantly – her ability to do the pragmatic thing, and her consideration of all possibilities, does not prevent her from trusting. She doesn’t step across that line into paranoia; she’ll check because it’s a possibility she should be sure to eliminate, but she will also trust. She’ll do the callous thing when necessary, but she doesn’t allow that callousness to become her only mode.

Her heart trusted Verin, although her mind wanted to be certain.

That’s a good way of putting it, actually. And she can balance those two, rather than blocking one off. No point not double-checking, but she can use that as a way to affirm her instinctive want to trust, rather than as a way of rejecting it completely.

All in all, they’re each incredibly lucky the other turned out to be worthy of that trust, aren’t they? If Verin were Black Ajah in purpose as well as in name, or if Egwene were truly powerless or incompetent, that could have gone very badly for one or both of them.

And now she has a babysitter again. Good timing, all things considered; she could have shown up five minutes ago and then where would they be? Still, I can absolutely sympathise with Egwene’s annoyance at someone interrupting what otherwise promises to be a solid chunk of reading time.

Slow clap to Egwene for managing to hide a bodyin half-truths.

She would simply have to wait. And read.

And RAFO.

Kind of literally.

She shoved aside the longing to embrace the Power and create a ball of light by which to read. She’d have to be satisfied with the single candle’s flame.

There’s something about this that feels rather…fitting. Symbolic, even. The Amyrlin Seat, the Flame of Tar Valon, dedicated to the victory of the Light, imprisoned and effectively powerless but for a single candle’s flame, with which to reveal the secrets that will help her bring down the Shadow. She doesn’t need enormous power, or a force of light; she will make do with a single candle’s flame. One candle against the Shadow, but it can be enough.

Especially contrasted against Natrin’s Barrow, just before this. Where all the light the Dragon Reborn with the Choedan Kal could summon couldn’t seem to keep the Shadow at bay and, if anything, seemed only to help it.

I just like the contrast of images, and of the moods the evoke. Rand, illuminated to the extent that he looks like little more than Power and light made flesh, and yet everything about it is cold and frightening and ominous. And then Egwene, quiet and unable to channel and alone in a dark room with nothing but a candle, and yet there is a sense of hope and energy and victory, of a much-needed true victory for the Light. Even if it is only a small candle against so much darkness, it is enough.

She’s gone straight to the list of names at the back of the book—I guess Egwene doesn’t share my aversion to spoilers.

Katerine, Alviarin, Elza, Galina, Sheriam…all names we already know, so far.

Steel yourself, Egwene, she thought, continuing to read down the list.

Steel yourself, as she reads through a list of women’s names. How…perfect. That has to be deliberate.

(A list of dead women’s names, one could argue; it seems unlikely most of them will be allowed to live).

She worked through the feelings of betrayal, the bitterness and the regret. She would not let emotions get in the way of her duty.

Here, again, we have a slight similarity to Rand that is actually more of a difference. True, she steels herself against the names on the list, hardens herself to face them. But more accurate, perhaps, to say she prepares herself to face them. She knows it will be hard, knows it will hurt – it already does; some of those names are already shocking or painful. This is not an easy task. And she also knows she can’t let emotion overcome her, or get in the way.

But she doesn’t shut it out. She works through the feelings of betrayal. She allows them to exist, and processes them, acknowledges them before setting them aside. She lets herself feel, even as she reminds herself to not let that get in the way of what she must do. It’s not a binary switch, a complete suppression of emotion to the point where she denies even its existence. She’s just…doing something difficult, but something that must be done. It hurts, and that’s part of it, and she can steel herself against it to some extent, but she doesn’t try to block it off entirely. She just has to get through it.

There’s a difference between setting aside emotion in order to approach something rationally and trying to shut it off altogether in an attempt to avoid the pain it causes.

Her role as Amyrlin demands that she read these names, and deal with the truths they reveal, and figure out what to do about it. And so she will, and she’ll do that even though it hurts Egwene to have to read them. But she doesn’t deny that part of her that is Egwene, that part of her that does hurt. She just works through it and puts it to one side for now, because now is a time for being Amyrlin.

Moria? Isn’t she the one who convinced the rebel Hall to vote in favour of an alliance with the Black Tower? Damn. I liked her; that was a good speech.

Each name was like a thorn through Egwene’s skin.

At least it’s not (yet) a white-hot line of fire across her soul.

I have to say, it’s not easy to make a character reading a list into an interesting or engaging scene, but this is well done. There’s a palpable sense of tension running through this whole section, even if most of it is simply names strung together with brief interludes of Egwene’s thoughts on them. It draws the reader’s focus alongside Egwene’s; we’re seeing these names through her eyes, an relentless assault of name after name that she has to confront, some of which area easy or mean very little, and some of which are harder, but she can’t dwell on them. The fact that we do only get those brief thoughts from her, before returning to the list of names, helps drive this feeling of urgency and also of…Egwene trying to hold herself together, in a way. Of pushing through and steeling herself and having to just keep reading, keep confronting truth after truth, trying to keep herself rational and calm and together.

So Elaida is not Black Ajah. Or at least, Verin was all but sure she isn’t. That’s no more surprising to me than it is to Egwene, but it’s good to have sort-of-confirmation.

Hi Nicola. Perfect timing yet again – both interruptions have come exactly when they’ll be the least incriminating or disruptive. First right after Verin died, and now right as Egwene has finished reading and hidden the books.

Hidden notes in the food; we’re deep into intrigue territory now.

And now Meidani stops by…and the ruse is up. Verin is very obviously dead and Meidani is understandably a bit ‘um what the fuck why is there a dead Aes Sedai in your bed’.

“Verin Sedai was poisoned by a Darkfriend shortly before her conversation with me. She was aware of the poison, and came to pass on some important information to me during her last moments.”

I love half-truths. An elegant lie spoken with not a single untrue word is honestly a thing of beauty.

Meidani paled, then looked at Egwene, likely wondering how she could be so callous. Good. Let her see the collected, determined Amyrlin. As long as she didn’t see a hint of the grief, confusion, and anxiety inside.

She can be that collected, determined Amyrlin…but she also doesn’t deny that the rest exists beneath that surface, even as she maintains it. She can hold a separation that isn’t a true denial or suppression. She can be callous when necessary, but she can also still feel that grief and confusion and anxiety.

And she also doesn’t spend time hating herself for having to be callous when callousness is necessary, because she accepts that necessity. She may not like it, but she doesn’t turn it against herself, doesn’t direct that pain inwards as some kind of punishment. Whereas I think part of the reason Rand has reached a point where the only way he can endure is to deny all feeling whatsoever, and simply accept that he is damned and there’s no point trying to save any part of himself, is that he internalised too much of that anger and pain at what he had to do, turned it into self-loathing and used it to punish himself for what he must do. And so now the only way he can be callous when needed and do what is necessary is by becoming that entirely; otherwise, the pain of his self-hatred at having to do any of it becomes too much. Easier to just accept that he’s damned and have done with it; he still hates himself but now he doesn’t have to fight against it.

Whereas Egwene doesn’t allow necessity to develop into that sharp-edged self-hatred, because she understands that it is simply necessity, and that she, Egwene, is still there beneath it. She can work through the emotions she feels and set them aside when needed, but she doesn’t spend time inflicting pain on herself as punishment for what she must do. Instead she embraces the pain she must endure, because she can hold onto the knowledge that she is doing all of this for a purpose, that there is a reason for both the pain and for the harder things she has to do, and that it will be worth it. That she’s fighting for something important enough to make those things worthwhile.

That all makes far more sense in my head than I can seem to get it to on paper but I tried.

Meidani’s basically here to act as a news feed: Elaida’s still Amyrlin but the Hall is pissed off, mostly.

“They informed Elaida that the Amyrlin was not an absolute ruler, and that she couldn’t continue to make decrees and demands without consulting them.”

Must—not—make—political—analogy—

“[Saerin] also noted that your own insistence that the Red Ajah not be allowed to fall—spread by a group of novices who overheard you—was part of what kept Elaida from being deposed.”

Sucks when doing the right thing makes your life harder. And yet she couldn’t have done anything else; she is here to heal the Tower and she cannot let another Ajah be broken apart if she is to do that. This is just a test of her resolve, really.

It smelled of a compromise; Elaida had probably met in closed conference with the head of the Red Ajah—whoever that was, now that Galina had vanished—hashing out the details. Silviana wuld still be punished, although not as strongly, but Elaida would submit to the will of the Hall.

But at least the government will remain open and the Aes Sedai won’t have to work without pay.

So not a perfect outcome, but it definitely seems as if things are tipping, slowly but more and more, towards Egwene. Though this may have played out too soon; it wasn’t quite enough to push Elaida over completely, and now the issue has been resolved, so there will have to be something else to push them again.

Luckily – for a given definition of luck – Tuon seems to have set something in motion that could do precisely that…

Given just a little more time, Egwene was confident she could get the woman overturned and the Tower reunited. But dared she spend that time?

She glanced at the table, where the precious books lay hidden from eyes. If she staged a mass assault on the Black Ajah, would that precipitate a battle?

Somehow I don’t think you’re going to be given the chance to find out. I’m not precisely sure how Egwene’s timeline lines up with Tuon and Rand’s, but I rather doubt, given the pace this book is setting, that Egwene’s going to be given much time to consider how to proceed before events decide it for her.

“I want you to report to the others. They must take Alviarin into captivity and test her with the Oath Rod. Tell them to take any reasonable risk to achieve it.”

Or not. Alright then. Egwene’s not wasting any time.

She may not be able to act on all of Verin’s information immediately, but she certainly isn’t going to just sit on it and wait for some sort of opportune moment. Fair enough; this is important enough and bigger than any personal goals she may have. Once again she’s putting the Tower ahead of herself: it’s not about becoming Amyrlin or gaining power for her own ends; it’s about healing the Tower and part of that, now, means taking the steps she is now in a position to take to eliminate the Black Ajah if she can. She’s not going to wait until it would give her a strategic advantage if she can do something about it now. And that is impressive. It would be so easy to hold everything back, to wait and make it part of a play for power. And maybe it still will be, but if it is, it won’t be because she’s withholding information or delaying acting for the sake of her own goals. It will be because that coincides with what she can do for the Tower in any given moment.

“It’s well known that [Nicola]’s one of your greatest advocates among the novices.”

It was odd to hear that of a woman who had effectively betrayed her, but the girl couldn’t really be blamed for that, all things considered.

How easily she can brush off that betrayal, now.

It’s growth even from Honey in the Tea, when the thing that broke Egwene’s determined calm was seeing Beonin and thinking Beonin must have been the one to betray her. Now, she’s moved past the point where it matters who betrayed her and why, because because again, it’s not about her, and holding a grudge against a novice won’t help the Tower, so what’s the point?

So Egwene sets Meidani to the task of ensuring that Alviarin is captured…and then just tells her essentially ‘oh and hide the body on your way out’. Bless.

And then she puts herself to sleep for a quick dream visit. Now that her bed is vacated of the corpse. I just…wow, Egwene. Wow. She has things to do and a Tower to heal, and she’s not going to let anything stand in her way. Or lay down and die in her way, as the case may be.

While she waits, she’s following all the possible trains of thought regarding Sheriam being Black Ajah, which basically results in a mess of what-ifs pretty much designed to cause system overload.

I do like the way we get a full three paragraphs of it; it conveys the full sense of both how tangled everything can get when you know even one person is Black Ajah, and the sense of panicked back-tracking trying to find all the possible places that could have had an effect, and also the sheer overwhelming impossibility of doing any such thing…but the difficulty of switching off that line of thinking, once you’ve started it.

What of Egwene’s own rise to power? How many of the Shadow’s strings did she dance on without knowing it?

That way lies madness, Egwene.

This is an exercise in futility, she told herself firmly. Don’t go down that path.

I should have just turned the page. But yes, that. It’s so easy to get caught up in that tangle of hypotheticals to the point where you paralyse yourself in terms of doing anything at all for fear of making things worse…but that’s not going to help anyone. She can’t look back; all she can do is look forward with more information now than she had before, and try to make the most of the situation she finds herself in. Trying to figure out all the possible ways in which she was pushed into it is tempting, but ultimately isn’t going to help her get anywhere. Find the winning move based on where the pieces are now, rather than wasting time trying to figure out how they got there.

For a moment, she felt herself to be the country girl many thought her to be. If Elaida had been a pawn for the Blacks, then so had she. Light! How the Dark One must have laughed to see two rival Amyrlins, each with one of his loyal minions at her side, pitting them against one another.

It is good that she can recognise this, though. She can’t afford to dwell on it, but she’s not arrogant enough to think that she’s somehow exempt from this manipulation. And there is a bit of anger at herself here…but she fairly quickly shifts it and refocuses it outwards rather than inwards, into determination rather than self-destruction:

Whatever his plan, she would fight him. Resist him. Spit in his eye, even if he won, just as the Aiel said.

There’s nothing she can do about what has already happened except learn from it and keep fighting, and find a way to move forward, find a way to turn what she has now into a position of strength.

“Siuan,” she said curtly. “You may want to summon yourself a chair. Something has happened.”

Siuan frowned. “What?”

“First off, Sheriam and Moria are Black Ajah.”

Don’t waste any time there. She did tell Siuan to summon up a chair, I suppose she figures that’s warning enough. I’m with you, Egwene, I hate small talk when there’s shit to be done.

“I need time to plan and think, an evening perhaps.”

An evening to process several decades’ worth of spying and research and a near-comprehensive list of hundreds of Aes Sedai who secretly serve the Shadow and to figure out how best to deal with all of that doesn’t seemlike too much to ask, especially as she’s not even getting any kind of overtime pay, but this genre being what it is…not sure you’re even going to get that much, Egwene. Think fast.

“This could be dangerous.”

And the award for UNDERSTATEMENT OF THE AGE goes to  SIUAN FUCKING SANCHE.

“Are you still captive?”

“Not exactly. Elaida has—” Egwene hesitated, frowning to herself. Something was wrong.

You’ll have to be more specific, Egwene. The list of things that are wrong could fill Verin’s journals several times over.

Oh.

Shit.

She didn’t even get ten minutes, much less an evening.

Nicola shaking her arm. “Mother,” she was saying. “Mother!” 

The girl had a bloody gash on her cheek. Egwene sat up sharply, and at that moment the entire Tower shook as if from an explosion.

And it was shaping up to be such a quiet, relaxing, peaceful evening.

Oh shit she can’t channel, can she? That’s uh….Bad.

It wasn’t Tarmon Gai’don, but it was nearly as bad. The Seanchan had finally attacked the White Tower, just as Egwene had Dreamed.

And she couldn’t channel enough Power to light a candle, let alone fight back.

GODDAMN IT SANDERSON THESE CLIFFHANGER CHAPTER ENDINGS ARE KILLING ME. Have some mercy for those of us who make terrible life choices and decide to liveblog these books!

Next (TGS ch 40) Previous (TGS ch 38)

[softshelltaakos]

@starrrskeleton​ you have to stop writing tags on my posts because they make me babble i hope you wanted 1k words about this

#also ive been thinking about taako and angus' like... parental/child relationship and how like #imo its kind of a disservice to both of their characters to portray them in the sort of like #Dad Taako TM and Son Angus TM way ?? #like a lot of it goes back to what u say in this post bc like. its just not who they are as characters imo ! 

SO!!!!!!! as i mentioned in that spiderverse post i like taako-and-angus as parent-and-child family-unit kind of deal, But, i don’t think that’s actually the core of the relationship the way a lot of people think it is. i wrote about this a while ago in the context of not enjoying magnus-as-ango’s-dad content, but i can’t find the post, so to rehash: the core is mentor/protege relationship, and any familial feelings grow out of that.

which is what taz is all about! it’s about learning family. it’s about merle learning to be there for his kids; it’s about taako and lup loving each other and learning to let themselves love other people, too; it’s about magnus missing his wife but learning that there are still people to live for. and i think angus is a really interesting person in taako’s journey! and to a lesser extent, if only because we see less of it from angus’s pov, taako in angus’s journey, too.

we talk a lot about how it’s a found family story, and it is! but i think we forget that families come in a LOT of different forms, especially when it’s a family you choose. relationships are jumbled and complicated and tested and proved and again, that’s what the show is. so when we look at angus & taako in that light, to simplify them to Dad Taako(tm) and Son Angus(tm) is a real big disservice to both of them.

i love messy taako, but i think people also discredit that he’s a very protective and even sometimes, like, responsible person. jd @keplercryptids​ posted this the other day about taako-as-older-twin, and this post isn’t about the twins, but that post has some interesting examples of Taako As Protector that i think position him as a more nurturing person than people give him credit for. dad taako isn’t a grill dad or a soccer mom or anything like that, because he’s still taako: he’s still aloof and teasing and kind of a jackass! and when he takes ango on, he’s not looking for a son; he’s apologizing to an obnoxious kid by taking him on as a protege. at least on the surface.

and likewise, angus mcdonald isn’t, like... the kid who’s desperate for his mentor/father’s approval, he’s not the kid who does what his mentor/father says all the time, etc. i think we see too much of the former in parent-taako-kid-ango content. we see angus come onto the scene competent, confident, and in control of a train murder investigation at the age of ten. so. he doesn’t need a baby-sitter, he doesn’t need looked after, he doesn’t need a dad! except... maybe he kind of does?

because on the other end of the spectrum, i think we have two incredibly lonely people. taako is obvious so i won’t dwell, but... who the FUCK is angus mcdonald? he has a grandfather who’s name he doesn’t know. he’s painstakingly polite most of the time. he seems to have some anxiety issues. he’s hyperfocused on his incredibly dangerous career. he attaches so quickly to tres fuckin’ horny boys, like... he’s lonely, i think!!! and he likes the camaraderie that they share! and i think sometimes he likes that they treat him like a kid, bc hey. he’s a kid! and i don’t know how much he’s let himself feel like one. boyland having a huge family and going to the moon is a noble sacrifice. angus having very little family and going to the moon as a fuckin’ pre-teen is... sad. right? it’s sad.

so he finds a mentor. and the mentor is a dickhead, but he’s there: he pays attention to angus, he directs him, he teases him, and he shares more with angus than he does with any other character in the podcast during the bureau days except maybe kravitz. immediately that positions angus on a much more intimate level to taako than just mentor/protege, but, that intimacy is not the core of the relationship. it’s a side effect. it’s a bonus.

and taako, on the other hand, gets someone to take care of. he gets someone to teach, first and foremost, but he also gets someone to watch over and be proud of. he gets a beautiful magical boy!! and i think that again, even though that intimacy isn’t the core of the relationship, even though it’s not the starting point of it, it’s there.

so where does that leave us? two lonely people, a mentor and a protege. that doesn’t inherently mean family. but this is a story about family, and angus mcdonald is the only person that taako trusts in story & song, and taako is the one with an interlude with angus and an epilogue scene with him. that goes to show, in my opinion at least, that their relationship has gone from purely professional to a personal one. they care about each other! and i think it follows naturally that angus looks to taako as a protector and a confidante and that taako looks to angus as a charge and a confidante. i know that’s not exactly the relationship a lot of us have with our fathers, and like i said earlier: relationships, families, are messy, and this podcast is not an exception. at the end of the day, it doesn’t matter much if taako is angus’s dad or his brother or his uncle or his mentor, because the title doesn’t matter, in the end: it’s who they are to each other, and that doesn’t need a title at all.

i like to think of taako as a father figure for ango, cooking him meals and keeping a room open for him in his elaborate mansion; and i like to think of angus as an adoptive kid for taako, keeping him warm and grounded and caring when it’s incredibly hard for him to be those things. but... it’s not a Dad(tm) and a Son(tm).

i like the idea of angus calling taako “dad” because it adds weight to things: it makes it so it’s harder for taako to disavow the affection and fondness he has for angus, and by extension, makes it harder for him to not care about the world at large. angus mcdonald is proof that not everyone is dust, and he knows it. he’s too smart not to. and i like the idea of taako, even if privately, thinking of angus as a son, because it’s him accepting that weight and letting himself act on instincts that he typically stifles. not a Dad(tm) and a Son(tm), but... a dad and his son, a little bit.

[bandeto]

CNN Town Halls 4.22.19

Sen. Amy Klobuchar: Unapologetic-ally moderate, with no direct plans really thrown out there - but gave a good answer concerning the ability/timing of doing impeachment and criminality being investigated for Trump. Will never gain traction on her own without policy proposals and not platitudes about her home state. Sen. Elizabeth Warren: FIRE! Pure fucking fire from the gate, and it's clear that she's one of the few candidates with actual policy in their minds and on the page. Only candidate willing to straight up say our prison and judicial system is racist with a capital R (Bernie kinda slid one in during an answer). Firmly walked out there and just REALLY needs to gain traction of free press that the other candidates have; she should higher in the polling all around except for not as good of a social media presence. Someone during TYT made a suggestion that maybe they should try to get AOC to link up with her to control her narrative better. Sen. Bernie Sanders: Great. Nothing real different than what we knew, also not a bad thing and we also just got a town hall with him recently and thus we are sussing out stuff we already know. Also always believe the person willing to give a proper side eye when confronted with an unfair structure of questioning. Sanders is playing it smart by keeping his face in your face, in that I know what the fuck I'm saying "do you" way. Which parlays to... Sen. Kamala Harris: Strong answering and defensiveness is only going to go so far. She was massively defensive about her prosecution career while she should have actually gone with the "soft eyes" strategy. For instance indicating, "would we really delve this hard into any other ones prosecuting career like this; my focus was on the students" (cut.) Instead she lied about no one going to prison for her clemency program, which doesn't go well against the opportunism it feels like she works in. She is a fantastic Senator, but I don't want to vote for a candidate with no strong policy positions and just wading in the water for what's popular. Also... why you be lyin' gurl, let it be. You executed a disgusting plan during the 90's War on Crime era in the Los Angeles area -- just say that I was trying my best to cause change and it may not have been the best thing for under served people. Learn from said mistake, stop lyin gurl. Mayor Pete Buttigieg: Oh Mayor Pete.... I'm going to let this analysis roll before I grab the TYT investigates video concerning your clear unwillingness to listen to your own polices obvious racist statements in Indiana. Trying to fiend it off as a wiretapping issue is gross and stupid. As the mayor of your city, you clearly are weighing your political career vs the protection of citizens for either expedience or lack of caring. Either are terrible and highly questionable. Also really, this kind of old brand style of Democratic candidate is really trying to work in "moderates" to the tent and also serve Dems who are not farther left on the spectrum esp. in terms of social programs. He was the ONLY candidate to promote the Constitutional Amendment to get money officially out of politics if Congress is not going to do the work. So he does have that. But ... don't ever trust someone who smiles religiously after every question asked of them.