#weren’t as a result of your fucking ancestors .. FUCK OFF

[jim-fetter-illustrations]

Todays Thanksgiving is like the religious fairy tale, not even close to being true.

Saying HAPPY THANKSGIVING to a Native American is like saying Happy Slavery Day to a Black Person..........

Humanity seems to be taught to celebrate bloodthirsty killing because of capitalism and religious domination.

Now before you get the wrong impression and get your feelings hurt, please understand that this is not a "Thanks-giving" as much as it's a celebration of the plunder of the native american people and the prosperity gained by the atrocities of European colonialism that started the United States of America.

We are celebrating the arrival of settlers in North America and the slaughter of millions of Indigenous people and the theft of their lands.

Basically we are celebrating European colonization of the Americas and killing 10 percent of the world's population. AND the fact that our ancestors had superior firepower against native Americans, because there were more indians then there were of us, over 100 million native Americans to start, and after we killed them off to a manageable size about 50 million were left.

Ya see,....we had gunpowder weapons that would kill them at 4 times the distance a bow & arrow or spear could travel, so we could kill them before they could get close enough to kill us.

Like shooting fish in a barrel logic, and extremely easy.

By the way that phrase "like shooting fish in a barrel" came from The 1863 Bear River Massacre that decimated the Northwestern Band of the Shoshones indians, Historians consider it the worst massacre of Native Americans in U.S. history, and it isn't taught in any school.

So Stop perpetuating the peaceful Godly pilgrim story, that's a fuckin fairy tale we tell to children in grade school, because to tell them the truth at that young age would horrify and damage them. The fact is the 16th and 17th century New England colonists, also known as pilgrims, celebrated their first harvest in the New World only after the mass slaughter of millions of Native Americans for the purpose of gaining supremacy of the land and resources. So lets realize the truth, we weren’t peaceful, and we weren’t fucking Godly. But we had a damn good feast to celebrate the slaughter of indigenous human beings.

Stop calling the Colonist’s first harvest in the New World the result of the hand of God’s favor,... it was more like the Devil's hand!

In order to believe this you must also believe that God sanctioned the denigration of Native American life just to bring prosperity to European life.

Which is ludicrous, bat-shit, crazy!!!

I'm not thankful we give thanks for material blessings on thanksgiving, but a little sad most people are thankful how things turned out,........... but that's history, and how most people get past the carnage of our bloody history because they weren't born yet to have any say in the matter, and for that they are thankful I'm guessing.

Just sayin.............

[banglatown]

here is an excellent vid by xiran, they articulated my feelings better than i ever could

[robininthelabyrinth]

for the prompts: NMJ/JC - Everyone with a functioning brain cell can see that JC just needs someone to tell him he’s doing a good job. And if WWX isn’t stepping up? Well, NMJ definitely will. (Preferably smut and/or fluff) Thank you! ❤️

Compliments - ao3

It started in anger, out of spite.

Traditionally, the world took this to be a bad thing, but in all honesty the vast majority of projects in the Nie sect were started that way – they inherited fiery tempers and spiteful personalities from their ancestors along with their saber cultivation traditions – and it didn’t always turn out badly. There were any number of buildings, techniques, or technological innovations in the Unclean Realm that had started life as a furious fuck you to someone and only turned into something worthwhile about halfway through, once the person involved had calmed down enough to think about what they were doing, realize they were already committed, and then shrug and carry on forward because there was no point in stopping a charge midway.

What Nie Mingjue meant was: there was precedent.

He liked to think it started with Jiang Fengmian, but if Nie Mingjue was being honest with himself, it started back in the Unclean Realm when Nie Huaisang had told him, quite casually over dinner, that he thought that the female cultivator in his class was very pretty and that he’d be happy to marry her.

“Uh,” Nie Mingjue had said, very intelligently. “Huaisang, you’re seven.”

Nie Huaisang had not seen the problem. Instead, he explained very forthrightly that it was only right that he start thinking early on about his marriage, as getting married and having children would be his great contribution to the sect on account of being useless good-for-nothing unfit for anything else –

“Wait,” Nie Mingjue said. “Who told you that?!”

Nie Huaisang claimed he had deduced it.

Nie Mingjue claimed that Nie Huaisang was full of bullshit, and also that he wasn’t good-for-nothing even if he wasn’t good at saber, and anyway even if he was a total good-for-nothing he was still Nie Mingjue’s good-for-nothing and no one had better say a single damn word against him or Nie Mingjue would bite them.

“I meant stab them!” he explained, far too late; Nie Huaisang was already rolling around laughing to the point of tears. “I have a saber. I can stab people! I’m actually very scary, you know!”

Nie Huaisang hadn’t believed him one bit and had carried on, seemingly at peace and forgetting everything, but Nie Mingjue had gone seeking advice from all of his elders and counselors and the more dependable senior disciples of his sect, abruptly terrified that he was permanently damaging Nie Huaisang by raising him the wrong way or something. Didn’t children need encouragement at that age? Weren’t they all young and tender peaches liable to be bruised at the slightest glance or young sprouts that needed to be sheltered from the harsh wind lest they grow up crooked?

Everyone assured him that children were hardier than they appeared, flexible and capable of bouncing back from just about anything. He'd pressed, though, pointing out that even the most flexible wood would eventually form a crack in the face of a vicious hurricane, and in the end they'd admitted that it was better to avoid applying too much pressure at too young an age, that a child squeezed too hard or not hard enough might develop neuroses that would hinder them in the future.

They mostly tried not to look at him when they said that, presumably thinking to themselves that Nie Mingjue was little more than a child himself and had already been subject to the worst pressures possible, which would undoubtedly result in who knows what future issues, but he hadn’t paid that part any mind. As far as he was concerned, his life was already a loss – he had sworn to take revenge for his father, to make that ancient monster Wen Ruohan pay with his life for what he had done and furthermore he'd sworn to pay back the blood debt in full before any of that burden passed to Nie Huaisang.

Letting Nie Huaisang grow up happy – that was what mattered.

Letting him be insulted when Nie Mingjue wasn’t looking played no part in that plan. If Nie Huaisang were going to be insulted, let it be by outsiders who he wouldn’t need to care about! Within their Nie sect, at minimum, he should be doted upon and honored, or else those responsible would have to explain themselves to Nie Mingjue.

Those dark thoughts still lingering in his mind, he had gone to the Lotus Pier for a discussion conference, and that, perhaps, was where it really started.

Rumor had already made the entire cultivation world aware that Jiang Fengmian had found the orphaned son of Cangse Sanren and Wei Changze, and that he had taken him into his home as his ward, allowing him to become a Jiang sect disciple – treating him almost as one of the family, even. That much was known, so it didn’t come as much of a surprise when Jiang Fengmian proudly introduced him or even more proudly showed him off, praising him to the high heavens.

What did come as a surprise was how little he praised his own son standing beside him, despite them being only a few days apart in age. It was as if Jiang Fengmian had simply forgotten that such a creature existed, much less that he had himself contributed to its spawning, and the constant looks of hope – invariably crushed – the child sent him made it clear that the present situation had been going on for some time.

Fuck you, Nie Mingjue thought, seeing red, seeing instead Nie Huaisang in his failed saber classes, struggling so desperately to keep up with the rest even though his body wouldn’t allow for it, being told he was useless and a good-for-nothing and fit for nothing but marriage. Fuck you, Jiang Fengmian.

He couldn’t say that, of course.

So instead he said, “Excellent stance,” to the child, who'd received the courtesy name Wanyin but seemed to be universally called Jiang Cheng. “Do you know the others in the set?”

Jiang Cheng, staring at him, very slowly nodded, and demonstrated them.

“Absolutely perfect,” Nie Mingjue said loudly, drawing attention to himself with his over-loud voice that everyone would automatically forgive on account on him being both a Nie and a young man. “You can see how hard you’ve worked at it, and it has paid off handsomely. You are very lucky in your son, Sect Leader Jiang.”

“…thank you,” Jiang Fengmian said, a little bemused at being interrupted. He’d been talking yet again about Wei Wuxian’s brilliance at picking up the sword again after years of living on the streets without practice, even though at the moment the smiling boy's admittedly impressive skills were still largely wild and undisciplined.

Nie Mingjue nodded, and said: “When exactly did you say the opening festivities would be starting?”

Jiang Fengmian had clearly forgotten about that in his enthusiasm, so he quickly hurried back to the actual subject at hand and the discussion conference was started in earnest.

It was almost enough to allow Nie Mingjue to forget the matter and put it behind him.

Or, it would have been, if only Jiang Fengmian hadn’t continued to insert praise for Wei Wuxian at every possible instance – it was as if he were the man’s first-born son, rather than another person’s child.

Irritated beyond belief, Nie Mingjue started complimenting Jiang Cheng every time Jiang Fengmian said something nice about Wei Wuxian, and he made sure to keep his compliments accurate: he was a hard worker, dedicated and sincere, thoughtful, clever, not overly arrogant…

“Wei Wuxian came up with his own ideas for a sword style already,” Jiang Fengmian claimed at one point. “You can see him on the training ground now, practicing it – take a look!”

Nie Mingjue picked up a stone and flicked it over with his fingers, making Wei Wuxian jump half a chi into the air and nearly fall on his ass.

“Weak foundation, and he over-commits,” he analyzed dryly, because it was true, and because no one else was saying it. He didn't make it any harsher than it had to be: he had nothing against the boy himself, of course; it was only that he knew from experience that it was much easier to be the one being complimented than the one not. “He’s got his head so high in the clouds that his feet are barely touching the ground – the weakest fierce corpse would knock him flat as a pancake with a childish style like that. He’d be better off sticking with orthodox or he’ll end up in real trouble one day.”

“Sect Leader Nie, really,” Jiang Fengmian said disapprovingly. “He’s only nine.”

“Old enough to pick up bad habits,” Nie Mingjue retorted. “Your son’s the same age and he’s as steady as a rock. If Jiang Cheng keeps going as he is, he’ll have a strong enough base to outlast the fiercest storm.”

“A rock has no imagination,” Jiang Fengmian said, and was he actually arguing that his son was inferior? Out loud, in front of outsiders? Did the man have no shame? “Mingjue, you’re young, but you must know that my Jiang sect prizes freedom and creativity as the highest virtue –”

“Would you rather build a house using a firework or a foundation stone?” Nie Mingjue asked, doing his best not to outwardly bristle at the condescendingly intimate use of his name by someone who might be technically his elder but legally his equal. “Tell me, Fengmian, does your Jiang sect’s acclaimed ‘freedom’ only allow for people to be as fluid as the river and not as steady as the earth?”

Jiang Fengmian faltered, clearly not knowing how to answer that.

Nie Mingjue raised his hands in a sarcastic salute: “As the leader of a sect whose style is based on a grounded foundation, I would be very happy if you would educate me in your wisdom. No doubt my peers would benefit as well.”

Perhaps it was at that point that Jiang Fengmian realized that his words could be misinterpreted as an insult to all the sects whose styles were less free-flowing than the Jiang – just about all of them except for maybe the Lan and their subsidiary sects, given their preference for techniques modeled on the wind over the water – and moreover that this was a discussion conference, where every word was political, and that a great deal of people were glaring balefully at him. He hastily moved the conversation onwards, and left the subject of his sons for another day.

Later that evening, Madame Yu came over to where Nie Mingjue was nursing a bowl of very fine wine that he didn’t especially feel like consuming. Before he could start worrying about the Purple Spider’s intentions, she said, voice stiff, “Your words regarding my son are too kind. His skills are still inferior; he has a great deal of progress yet to be made.”

“He’s only nine,” Nie Mingjue said, feeling mortified that she’d noticed his little temper tantrum, which he had belatedly realized was probably extremely obvious. “Anyway, I wasn't lying. He has a good foundation; he’ll be a fearsome cultivator one day, there’s no doubt. I only said what I saw.”

“You didn’t comment about Wei Wuxian,” she said. “You must have noticed his genius.”

“Geniuses don’t need to be praised overmuch,” Nie Mingjue said. He himself had been termed a genius by his teachers, and he’d hated every single moment of it – couldn’t he just be good at things without having people fall all over themselves to compliment him? He’d enjoyed it at the start, but after a while it had started to wear on him; he was expected to be a genius in all things, and being simply ordinary was suddenly seen as failing. “It’s the ones that have to work hard that do, or else they’ll be discouraged…comparing someone to another person’s child works as a spur to a certain extent, but after a while it loses its potency as a tool.”

Your husband is a fucking idiot, he didn’t say. It’s his own son! How could he speak like that about him? Shouldn’t he be holding him in his palms like a gentle flame, protecting him from the wind and rain? How can he bear to scold his son when he hasn't shown that the scolding is meant for his benefit?

“Perhaps,” Madame Yu said, but it was clear on her face that she wasn’t about to start taking parenting advice from a half-grown sprout like Nie Mingjue. “Nevertheless, your words were kind.”

She swept away after that, much to his relief. He shook his head and daydreamed about a magic tool that would make this whole nightmarish experience go by that much quicker.

In the end, it went by at the same speed it always did. It could have ended there, but Nie Mingjue kept up the habit of blatantly complimenting Jiang Cheng in future sect conferences as well, if only because it clearly irritated Jiang Fengmian – less because Nie Mingjue was praising his son and more because it was so obviously meant as an indirect critique of Jiang Fengmian’s skills as a parent or sect leader, and moreover it reminded all the other sects of that unfortunate interchange and made them less inclined to listen to him – and of course, because, well, once you’ve started a charge, you had to finish it even if you came to your senses about halfway through.

He made sure to keep it proportionate, of course, since there was nothing worse than false praise. He didn’t really mean anything by it, other than the half-formed thought that someone ought to be doing it – that the boy should know that someone looked at him and Wei Wuxian and remembered to praise him first. Nie Mingjue praised Wei Wuxian too, of course, since the boy often deserved it; it was only that he made a particular point not to forget about Jiang Cheng, either.

(He also made sure the other sect leaders saw how well the technique could be used to fluster Jiang Fengmian, an intrusion into his personal life that could be masked in perfect politeness, and several of them picked up the same tact, though less consistently than Nie Mingjue – Sect Leaders Jin and Wen, naturally, always looking for a weakness, but interestingly enough also Lan Qiren, who was normally above such petty maneuvers. Possibly he was actually just complimenting Jiang Cheng because he sincerely approved of him.)

He didn’t think much of it.

Nie Mingjue didn’t think much of it during the other discussion conferences, or when he came to the Cloud Recesses to pick up Nie Huaisang, who had – amazingly – actually managed to pass this time, although the expression on Lan Qiren’s face suggested the pass might have more to do with the other sect leader’s desire to never see Nie Huaisang haunt his classroom ever again.

“You know what, don’t tell me. Tell me….hm…how did Jiang Wanyin do?” Nie Mingjue asked, hand over his eyes as if it could forestall the headache. “He’s a bright boy, and knows how to put his mind to something when he wants. Tell me about him instead, it’ll be less depressing.”

“He’s very bright,” Lan Qiren agreed. “Very thoughtful, and very thorough. He sometimes errs towards conservatism out of fear of giving the wrong answer, but that’s just a matter of confidence; his thinking is very good. He’s very clear-sighted as long as the matter is logical, rather than emotional.”

“No surprise,” Nie Mingjue grunted. “He’ll be a sect leader worthy of respect, in his time.”

When he’s rid of that father of his dragging him down, he thought ungraciously, and he saw Lan Qiren bob his head in a sharp nod of unspoken agreement.

“All right,” he said. “I’m adequately fortified now. Tell me about Huaisang.”

Lan Qiren gave him a look of profound sympathy.

It wasn’t until much later, during the Sunshot Campaign, that it was first called to his attention – by Jiang Cheng himself, oddly enough.

“Why do you keep doing that?” he hissed, having stayed behind after one of their meetings.

Nie Mingjue blinked at him. “Doing – what?”

“You – you said – about me…!”

Nie Mingjue tried to recall what he’d said during the meeting just now. “That you – were doing an excellent job while facing much higher level of obstacles than everyone else?” he hazarded, because he had said something like that. “Or was it the bit about how if any of them had needed to rebuild their sect and fight at the same time, we’d all be doomed because they couldn’t multitask for shit?”

Yeah, it was probably that one.

“I didn’t mean any offense by referencing what happened to your sect,” he said, hoping to explain. “It was only –”

“I didn’t take offense,” Jiang Cheng mumbled. “It’s fine. I mean, it’s not fine, but – it happened, everyone knows that it happened, not talking about it isn’t going to make it not have happened. That’s not what I meant…why do you keep saying such nice things about me?”

Nie Mingjue blinked at him. “Because they’re true?”

Jiang Cheng’s cheeks flushed red. “You’ve always said nice things about me. Ever since I was a little kid – every time you saw me, at the discussion conferences, or the Cloud Recesses, or even in your letters to my father…”

He had in fact done that.

“I just want to know why. Is it – my father’s not around, you can’t be doing it just to piss him off, even though I know that was part of it. Why me?”

Nie Mingjue coughed a little, having not realized that Jiang Cheng had noticed. Or possibly even overheard, in regards to the Cloud Recesses. “I’m sure you’re familiar with the concept of the other person’s child,” he said, and Jiang Cheng nodded his head sharply, clearly thinking of Wei Wuxian. “You’re Huaisang’s.”

“Me?” Jiang Cheng seemed unduly vulnerable when he asked. “You compare him – to me?”

“It’s amazing he tolerated you at the Cloud Recesses,” Nie Mingjue said with a sigh. In fact, his brother had all but declared war on Jiang Cheng in absentia on account of all Nie Mingjue’s comments, only for his first letter home from the Cloud Recesses that year to be I see why you like him! He’s cute! A perfect match for you! because he’d apparently decided that Nie Mingjue had a crush on the boy.

Which he certainly hadn’t – at least not when he’d been that age, anyway. Jiang Cheng had grown up to embody every single one of the compliments Nie Mingjue had paid him when he’d been younger, especially with the maturity and natural aura of command that came to him after his personal tragedy.

“But why…you knew Wei Wuxian about as well as you knew me.”

Nie Mingjue snorted. “And that would have helped Huaisang how, exactly? If I wanted to compare him with someone who picked things up the first time they saw it, I wouldn’t need to go outside the Nie sect for that – I was also considered a genius when I was young. It’s no failing to be born without a vast and unending natural talent; Huaisang’s issue has always been his unwillingness to put in the effort.”

Jiang Cheng stared at him.

“Anyway, your father was so blinded by his adoration for Wei Wuxian that he overlooked your merits, which are different but no less impressive,” Nie Mingjue added. “As someone who was trying to figure out how to raise a child, it irritated me; I thought someone ought to make it clear to you that you were seen.”

“Yes,” Jiang Cheng said, his voice strangely hoarse. “Yes, you – you succeeded.”

He paused for a moment, meeting Nie Mingjue’s eyes intently, and then abruptly said, “I’ll be leaving,” and dashed out.

Nie Mingjue wasn’t entirely sure if that meant he should stop or not. Jiang Cheng had said he wasn’t offended…anyway, it was a fixed habit by now. He’d been doing it for over half his life! He couldn’t stop that easily! It would be like trying to stop his temper, or a charge – there was nothing for it.

Jiang Cheng would just have to live with a few compliments.

“Wow, you’re an idiot,” Nie Huaisang said when he told him about the incident, months later while he was lying in bed, recovering from the disaster that had been the end of the war. “I’ll fix this.”

“Fix what?”

“I’m going to tell him you’re dying,” Nie Huaisang decided.

“You’re going to do what?!”

“Stay in bed, da-ge! Doctor’s orders!”

The Nie sect chief doctor was an extremely terrifying person. Nie Mingjue stayed in bed.

Some time later, Jiang Cheng stormed in, face pale.

“Huaisang’s a rotten liar and I’m going to be fine,” Nie Mingjue said at once.

Jiang Cheng stopped mid-storm, and abruptly deflated. “Really?”

“Really. I would’ve stopped him, but I’m stuck in bed for the moment.”

Jiang Cheng took a seat next to him. “That sounds serious. You shouldn’t underestimate war wounds, especially given your sect’s tendency towards qi deviations...”

“Compassionate as well,” Nie Mingjue teased. “I’ll have to add that to the rotation of compliments.”

Jiang Cheng flushed red. “You’re…planning on continuing?”

“For the rest of my life, however short it might be,” Nie Mingjue said, because he was an honest person, even when it was inconvenient. He was going to explain about the habit, and the concept of stopping mid-charge, but he didn’t manage to start before Jiang Cheng grabbed him by the collar and pulled him up into a kiss.

After that, he figured that maybe explaining that part of it wasn’t necessary. He might be slow on the uptake, but he wasn’t actually stupid.

[princessnijireiki]

time for my weekly "may I say something hateful?" post...

anyway. I fucking hate takes like this... weren't the dragon age elves genocided? isn't that the whole point?

so, asatru is like wicca, it's a neopagan quasi-reconstructed religion made by non-persecuted peoples getting in touch with and/or self-exotifying + elevating (sometimes to racist end) their ethnic/ethnonational roots... vs. religious & spiritual reconstruction in the midst of literal catastrophic cultural destruction, like how hebrew had to be rebuilt from the ground up & how indigenous + afrodiasporic modern traditional and syncretic religions are made in a way that... it's on a path that's been altered by the trajectory of the genocide itself, right? in the same way as yiddish is more commonly spoken than ladino, or in endangered languages, if one of the only surviving speakers uses a specific dialect or has a speech impediment, that's how every other language learner from then on will speak as well. vodun & santería & palo are all real religions with shared ancestral roots that are not practiced the same way as the still living religious heritages they all come from in africa.

like the fact that these religions do not look the same way as the "authentic" "originals" is a direct result of (fairly damn recent) enslavement & massacre... loki worship is gonna look different not just because of christian conquest a literal millenium ago, but bc people who began modern nordic worship chose to characterize these religious figures a certain way, or worship in a modernized way that suited them for personal, aesthetic, or political reasons, often crafted whole-cloth. one is evolution & adaptation of a faith in the wake of survival, and what it means to be a survivor, and the other thing was honestly built up for funsies. and that's not a dis against people who practice those faiths, but if you actually knew your history, you'd be aware of what a revival vs a survival movement looks like.

all of which is besides the fact that as like... a person who has inherited a few genocides. 1) I would hope any ancient person thrown into the modern day would hear about their own people's ongoing genocide and be appalled for their still-oppressed nation rather than automatically jump to snotty condescension and judgement [I will allow for like. 2 outrages maybe at heresy due to lack of information or what the fuck ever. but AT LATEST after the 2nd one it's on them to either make peace with a dead tradition or teach people instead of being a dick]. and 2) same as how I feel about alternate history, I do not have time for any story that fantasizes & waxes poetic about writing me out of existence, and by extension, while I can accept an ancestor that would not recognize me or understand me, any ancestor who resents my people or me for doing what we needed to do to survive out here in the world (without them I might add!) can go jump off a bridge into the nearest & hottest hell lmfao.

I do not give a FUCK. eat a thousand musty bog body dicks before you think you can talk to me like you're some holier than thou authority on massacres you weren't around for, and eat a hundred thousand before you think any of that is comparable to history channel vikings cosplay and modern scandinavian ethnonationalist fascist movements' religious propagandizing.

[chuckling-chemist]

Lancer

(*dusts fantrolls off* These are my DIY blorbos you know. I used to write them all the time before Goro Akechi killed my lusus. Oh what a time...

Anyway enjoy 1600ish words of unedited rambling for 4/13. See you next year!)

When Dontoc first stepped into Sandyhorn, it was impossible not to hear the rumors.

Word carries fast. It’s something he knew all too well himself. And to end up traveling all this way on a whim of fate, finding himself sucked almost immediately into a festival where the only thinking loosening people’s tongues more than the alcohol flowing was the dreadful heat baring down on the whole city. Within minutes of stepping outside, he immediately caught word of the dreadful witch who lives on the outskirts of the city, where the road gives way to twisting paths leading to nowhere and gnarled trees older than the purplebloods who stalk the forest looking for easy culls.

And, unfortunately not for the first time in his life, his curiosity got the better of him. He had found himself dabbling in magic (if he could call the book he found in his ancestor’s library that allowed him to channel the Horrorterrors “magic” in the same sense a supposed witch would use the word) during his time in his self-imposed isolation, and the thought of someone who could understand what exactly he found drove his curiosity.

For the first time in his life, Dontoc found himself searching others out for answers.

They weren’t difficult. So long as the person was willing to talk – and admittedly, being a violetblood in a city filled with lowbloods, most were at least willing to hear him out before brushing him off, out of fear of his lanky frame attempting to retaliate – he could get a few questions in and attempt to piece together what they meant in their drunken haze.

(Did all landdwellers drink like this? He couldn’t remember a single event held down in Sindaria dominated by seadwellers where the alcohol was more plentiful than water. What were they even celebrating? There was no holiday today, as far as he knew. Most of them were at the end of the sweep, not firmly lodged in the stickiest and most unpleasant part of the summer.)

“They say she cursed her neighbor for taking up too much space,” one troll said. “Resulted in the other troll’s hive burnin’ to the ground in a night. Nothing left.”

“Can you imagine pissin’ off the heiress and living? As a teal?” another said. “That’s how you know she’s terrifying.”

“She’s got friends too,” a third troll said much later, one that Dontoc found fanning himself at a corner. He was a higher caste than many he ran into, an oliveblood dressed in practically nothing. “Can’t imagine a scary fucking hag like that having friends, but whaddya I know?”

“Course she’s got friends!” the oliveblood’s friend – a yellowblood hiding their eyes in a pair of dark sunglasses – said. “You never heard about that bruiser who keeps her safe?”

Dontoc cocked his head, fins fluttering in curiosity. “A bruiser?”

“Yeah!” The yellowblood hopped off the curb, clearly excited to share his news. “Look, lotta trolls don’t realize this cause the guy covers up everything about them, but I saw them take off their mask once and-”

“You didn’t see shit,” the oliveblood retorted. “You don’t go that way.”

“Yes I did. I wasn’t heading out that way, but we all know the creepy guy with the featherbeast mask works with her. Same as the crazy bitch in glasses and-”

“Vekuzz, they’re both crazy bitches in glasses-”

“-You know what I’m talking about!” Vekuzz exclaimed. “Anyway, I saw him take their mask off once, and I shit you not, the guy’s eyes were purple. I saw the guy take it off, wipe their face off, and put it back on like no one saw. But I did! Sent straight chills down my body and made me want to look the fuck away, but sure as night it was the deepest purple you ever saw in your life.”

“They were not.” The oliveblood stood up now, eye twitching in obvious irritation. “You think purplebloods would hang with someone like her?”

“It’d keep the other ones off her ass.” Vekuzz crossed his arms. “‘Sides, don’t the legislacerator types work with ‘em?”

“Yeah, but she’s not a legislacerator. She’s a-” the oliveblood groaned, gestering blankly into the sky. “She’s encroaching on their territory. That’s all.”

Dontoc blinked owlishly at the two of them. “Right,” he said quietly. “Thank you for the information.”

The more people he talked to, the more they spoke of the supposed bruiser. Almost more so than the witch. The witch, he learned, most people knew her face, knew to avoid her and her street. But this apparent bruiser, this hulking troll in a beak mask and no horns, who chose to cover their body from head to toe in draping black garb? Somehow, everything about them managed to evade the general population.

He exists. Except he doesn’t, some believe to be something created by her, as he only appears in the dead of winter when everything is dead, and he’s some kind of death omen she summoned. He’s a purpleblood, an blueblood, an alien, a supernatural entity she managed to bind to her. He’s as real as he is fake, an walking enigma with a deep voice who keeps intruders at bay and terrifies anyone somehow not terrified by the ancient hag in the woods.

Everyone had their own story about the witch and her rabid barkbeast kept on a chain, and Dontoc found himself drawn to every single one.

He’s not sure when he passed out from heat exhaustion. He’s not sure who found him and so effortlessly managed to carry him all the way down here – much less who’d be willing to drop him straight into the hive owned by the supposed witch.

And what a witch she was: her head coming up somewhere along his chest, her horns frequently being the only way to notice her the second anything tall blocked her form. She looked no older than him – maybe younger, with long hair and sharp teal eyes framed behind half moon glasses – and flitted about the plant-filled waiting room he had found himself in with the natural dexterity of someone who lived here their whole life.

She wasn’t, he learned, a witch at all. Pallia Alkali was a scientist in hiding from the very same purplebloods who stalked the forest just outside her home, calling her bubbling solutions and medicines potions and who actually stayed alive despite the dangers of her location thanks to catering to the pirate port not much further east from Sandyhorn.

Dontoc liked her. A lot. It made the decision to stay and study with her an easy one.

And, when the winter came around, he too got to meet the supposed bruiser, the lancer of the witch and her supposed second in command.

(If the rumors knew about Aisral, the pyromaniac tealblood already living with her who accidentally burned her hive to the ground testing a fabric, they wouldn’t be so quick to call this man her second in command. But they didn’t. So it defaulted to him instead.)

He walked upstairs into the living spaces with barely an acknowledgment toward Dontoc’s direction, only sighing in Pallia’s direction.

He looked exactly like the rumors. He was draped from head to toe in black, from the black coat to black pants, without a sign of any sort of symbol on his person. His black, wide brim hat showed no indication of holes for his horns, and as far as Dontoc could see, he had none, making the only color on his whole ensemble come from the bone white beak mask that covered his face and white gloves covering his hands. With his large frame looming managing to tower over Dontoc’s frame, he felt like a shadow hanging over the both of them, a foreboding omen of an unknown future.

“A fish?” he said. His voice was deep – surprisingly so considering how much Dontoc figured the mask would have muffled it – and so clearly toned with disappointment Dontoc felt his fins droop in embarrassment. “You know how I detest them. Especially ones like…” he paused, and Dontoc saw the beak point in his direction. He’s utterly certain the other troll was raking him up and down, searching for something “...like him.”

Pallia rolled her eyes. “Oh come off it. I’d be a hypocrite if I didn’t extend the same invitation to him as I did for you.”

“No. That would only make you a fool once over. Not twice over. But if you insist.” He turned his whole body to Dontoc now. With careful precision, Dontoc watched as he took his mask off, only for the briefest moment, letting Dontoc catch exactly what the one oliveblood once saw by accident.

The telltale purple of a purpleblood, miles away from any Carnival in sight, casually existing inside the house of a scientist keeping herself away from them.

For a brief moment, he felt like barely a hatchling again. An unexpected wave of nausea and jitters hit him, making his legs quake hard enough he nearly toppled over, stopping only when the purpleblood put his mask back on. He didn’t have any time to wave of anxiety any more than the worry of Pallia associating with the very caste infamous for destroying what she was.

Dontoc did not have to see the sharp-toothed grin on his face to know the other troll was grinning at Dontoc’s obvious discomfort. “Call me Glacin,” he said. “I’m sure you’re pleased to be in the company of a fellow highblood, my Lord.”

Dontoc grimaced. “There’s no need to use such titles around me,” he said stiffly. “Just Dontoc’s fine.”

“Just Dontoc then.” He chuckled lowly. “I’ll keep it in mind.”

Dontoc wasn’t sure he wanted him to. He’d much rather stay far away from this odd troll, long before he realized exactly who Glacin’s ancestor was.

And when he did, he slowly realized how badly history would keep the two stuck together.

[sirowsky]

The Flowers Always Know

Description: When a mad scientist uses you as an experiment while you’re on holiday, the Heroics only just manage to save you. And in your recovery you become very close to the leader of the group. (Slow burn)

Warnings: Language

Link to Masterlist

Comment: Hint to what the title is all about, and plenty of Máma Moreno.

Chapter 6

  The house was a mess, to say the least. You had left in a hurry that evening, after things had taken a very sharp turn towards very bad, shortly after your dinner. You’d been glad that you had only eaten a light pea soup, when it came back up again some ten minutes later. You’d only just made it to the bathroom, but after the food had been coughed up, a large amount of fresh blood had followed, and you knew you were in trouble.   Why you hadn’t called for that ambulance was anyone’s guess, but then, you had never liked being a bother, and you had been perfectly capable of walking out to the cab.    It was just that, in the twenty minutes that the drive had taken, you’d gotten significantly worse. Your whole body had started hurting, you’d begun bleeding from the nose and ears, and just as you got to the hospital, you had begun to get spasms and cramps in your spine and legs.   When you staggered into that emergency-room, you did it truly convinced that you’d leave it in a coffin.

  You shuddered slightly with the memory, as you walked through the house, opening all the blinds and pulling all of the curtains back again. It was already late, and thus dark outside, but you wanted to wake up to a house that bathed in sunlight in the morning.   The kitchen was probably the worst, in terms of the amount of cleaning that would need to be done. The remnants of your cooking that evening where still on the counter and in the dishes, and the amount of mold that was growing in there was somewhat disturbing.   You couldn’t leave that for the morning, you’d lose every ounce of appetite waking up to that crap. So, you set about throwing away everything that had been left out on the counters and in the sink, and quickly scrubbed all the open surfaces clean, before handwashing some of the glasses, plates, mugs and cutlery, that had gotten dusty even sitting in the cabinets, in the four months you’d been gone.   Once the kitchen felt usable again, you went to the bathroom to check what state that was in. It wasn’t too bad. You flushed all the pipes and let the water run in the sink and the shower for a good half-hour to clean them out, and begin to work away the smell of stagnated water. The toilet needed a decent scrub too, but it could wait until morning.   It was after midnight when you’d finally changed the sheaths in the bed and settled in for the night.

  A sharp rapping on your door woke you after what seemed like mere seconds. But the sun was up, so you looked at your wrist-watch – 06:15 – and sighed. Who the fuck would be there at that hour?   Grumbling into your pillow, you turned over and decided that whoever it was would have to come back at a more decent hour.

  “Come on now, mujer, I don’t have all day.”

  You physically jumped at the sound of Anita Moreno raising her voice behind your front door. She wasn’t shouting, just applying a good amount of force to her voice. Just enough to make you feel a size smaller than usual.   You scrambled out of bed and grabbed a robe which you put on whilst walking towards the door. You had no idea what you looked like, but you hoped there was an air of scarecrow to you. You’d found her intriguing when you first met her the day before, but she was little more than a damned annoyance right now. You were not a morning person, and especially not today when your body was tired and sore from the tests.

  “I’m not gonna ask if you know what time it is, because you obviously do, and you obviously don’t care, so don’t beat around the bush and just tell me what the hell you want so I can go back to bed and finish waking up.”

  “You always this cheerful in the morning?”

  “Yep.”

  “I’ll be sure to let Marcus know.”

  “What does my morning mood have to do with Marcus?”

  “Nothing. Yet…”

  What? No, no, don’t let her distract you, idiot.

  “What do you want, Mrs. Moreno?”

  “Tell me, what kind of flowers do you like?”

  Nope. You’re not doing this, whatever it is, you’re not doing it at 6 fucking 15 in the morning.

  “Have a nice day, Mrs. Moreno.”

  As you went to close the door, she simply barged right in, straight past you, and completely unbothered walked into your kitchen while you scrambled after her, shocked and abruptly furious.

  “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!”

  “Don’t you cuss at me, mujer.”

  “If you want me to treat you politely, then don’t fucking barge into my house uninvited.”

  “Calm down, I’m not staying for breakfast. I just want you to answer a few questions.”

  Unbelievable.

  “You’ve got some nerve.”

  “I’m old, mujer, I don’t have time for intermissions. Now, tell me, what kind of flowers do you like?”

  You were fuming, but this woman was a super. She wasn’t leaving until she decided to leave. So, you took a breath.

  “Dahlias.”

  “Interesting choice. Why?”

  “What does it matter? What do you want from me?”

  “Do you know the origin of Dahlias?”

  “Why? Am I to expect a pop-quiz banging on my door tomorrow?”

  “The Dahlia came from my ancestors, the Aztecs, they called it The War Flower. Nowadays, it’s known as the King of summer flowers, because of its wide range of shapes, sizes and colours. It has something of a demanding presence, you never walk past a Dahlia without seeing it. And yet, it doesn’t ask you for much.”

  “Do you have a point, or is this becoming a lecture on the mythology of flora? Because I will go back to bed and ignore you until you leave.”

  “It’s an observation. What’s your opinion on supers?”

  “Are you serious? Ugh, forget it, of course you are. Fine. I have nothing against them, but I don’t adore or idolize them. They’re flawed just like the rest of us.”

  “What’s Marcus’ flaws?”

  “He’s… too kind for his own good sometimes. He let’s people walk all over him if he thinks that it’ll keep the peace. And he… tries to carry the whole world by himself if you let him.”

  She smiled.

  “Good. You’re hired. I expect you at Heroics HQ at 7 am tomorrow morning.”

  …what THE FUCK…?!

  She walked back towards the door, while you stood dumbstruck just staring after her. She had reached the door by the time you unfroze and ran out to the hallway.

  “Wait, what the hell are you talking about? Hired for what? I didn’t ask you for a job.”

  “No, you didn’t. But you need one, and I’ve got one. Take it or leave it, if you’re not there by 7, I’ll know what you chose.”

  You stood in the door, watching her disappear into a black SUV, and drive off.

  Did that actually just happen? It must have, there was no way in hell you’d ever even dream something like that. You shook your head, and decided that there was no point in going back to bed now, your head was buzzing, so you might as well have breakfast and get the cleaning going.   As you went to the bathroom you caught your reflection in the mirror, and smiled to yourself. There was definitely an air of scarecrow.   You turned the TV on while you made tea, and tried not to think about what had just transpired in your kitchen.   You had always loved coffee before, never started the day without it ever since you were 16. But your body seemed to have become oversensitive to it after your cellular breakdown. You’d had your first cup about a month ago, and it had really done a number on you. You’d been hyperactive for hours with uncontrollable twitches and insistent trembling in your hands.   You’d given it a second try a week later, but even just half of a small cup had resulted in the same outcome, so you had accepted that your coffee-days were over. You were actually really starting to like tea, especially the spicier types.

  The news showed a highlight reel from the Heroics latest outing, and you found yourself glancing at the footage, looking for a glimpse of Marcus. You saw him flash by as he fought someone, or something, you weren’t sure, and then again when the fighting was over. He looked confident and strong when he was out there. When he had an enemy in front of him, and a clear task.   It was enticing to watch. Oh, who were you kidding – it was fucking hot!   You shook your head and turned the TV off as you finished your breakfast. There was a lot to do to get the house in order, and you had a plan to get it all done. The problem was that a certain uninvited guest kept popping into your head, distracting you with thoughts about flowers and what the hell that job was all about?   So, by lunchtime, you weren’t anywhere close to where you’d hoped to be. You’d managed to wipe down all the surfaces where dust accumulated, and the vacuuming was done. But you’d hoped to have washed the floors and beaten the carpets and cleaned the refrigerator and freezer by then. 

  Oh, well. Rome and all that. 

  You decided to have pizza for lunch and called in an order.   But later, as you were eating said pizza, you had something of a lightning moment. You didn’t need to sit there and just fidget and wonder and worry about what you were gonna do tomorrow. You could just go back to HQ and talk to Marcus. He’d only be happy to see you, he’d said as much when you went to find him to say goodbye.   It hadn’t been a very long exchange, since you’d been eager to get going, knowing there’d be things you’d have to do before going to bed. But he had said that he’d miss you and that you’d always be welcome to visit them.   So, why not? If anyone could tell you what Máma Moreno was up to, it’d be her son.

Authors’ Note: I love criticism, don’t be shy to let me know if there’s anything you like/don’t like/have questions about.

@blueeyesatnight​ 

@farfromjustordinary​

[kariachi]

Guess who sat down to write a nice little thing about Osmosian family organization and stuff and now, nearly 4000 words later, comes back with fucking Gwevin relationship drama! Watch as important topics are finally broached! Realizations made! Character growth promised!

I’m labelling this @petrosapian-friendly with the caveat that while it’s very much pro-Gwen being a good person at heart and all that, it doesn’t play nice.

~~

“Okay,” Gwendolyn said, settling into her best ‘learning’ mode, “hit me.”

She’d made the mistake, the day before, of asking Kevin about his family tree. So, he’d drawn one up for her, in just the way young Osmosians were taught. Even did a more hybrid approach for his mom’s side, though apparently there was enough distant Ossy blood there that they did that already. The result being she still had a headache the next day and he’d promised to spend the night re-charting everything so it would be easier to read and understand.

So here they were now, in his apartment, with multiple charts.

“Alright, mom’s side of the family you can read on your own time, I put it in the style they teach you in school.” And thank fuck, because the Joneses were expansive and the chart was massive. Still, Gwendolyn knew she’d be able to understand it, so she was fine with the idea of just keeping it for future reference. Next time Kevin announced a surprise visit by a passing relative, she’d be able to figure out who they were. “Dad’s side is… The clan chart is mostly similar.”

Kevin laid out another chart, not as large but also it very clearly didn’t go back near as far. The Jones chart showed a solid ten generations and she wasn’t going to ask what sort of tech wizardry he’d done to make it fit on the sheets of not-quite-paper (or normal wizardry- it’d been bad enough to learn he could consciously use magic and just kept quiet on it, but she’d recently noticed his notebooks had a lot more pages than they should and gotten an embarrassed ‘it happens when I write’ by way of explanation). This one only covered six and it was still a damn good size.

“What the fuck, Kev,” she sighed more than anything.

“Ossys live a long time,” he explained with an apologetic smile and a shrug, “you’d be amazed how many kids you can fit in a generation when you’ve got a good four or five hundred reproductive years. My grandma didn’t have a lot of kids because work had her traveling all the time, but that didn’t stop her siblings and cousins any.” Pointing to a spot on the ‘paper’ far closer to the top than she’d expected, he continued- “There’s me and Kay, and Dad right above us, Grandma topping off the chart, and the bratlets beneath Kay since he claimed him for the clan.” ‘The bratlets’, as if he and Alan weren’t nearly the same age.

“I notice there’s no spouses on here.”

“They’re on the next chart.” Gwendolyn was already having nightmares about the next chart. “The clan chart only shows members of the clan. If Kay hadn’t claimed Alan and the rest they wouldn’t be on here.” Kevin chuckled. “Apparently Jessie was insistent on her kids getting to be royalty even if she birthed them.”

“Well, it’s not a chance that comes often,” Gwendolyn pointed out, Kevin nodding in response.

“Nope. So we’ve got me, Dad, Kay, and the bratlets. As a general rule, clan ties go through the dam, but sometimes you’ll find a sire or other relative claiming a kid for the clan instead. Normally when the dam won’t or can’t.” Should she have been taking notes? She felt like she should’ve been taking notes. “Dad’s our dam, and since Osmosian doesn’t have words for grandparents and shit so is Grandma, and her dam, and so on back to the beginning.”

“That could get confusing.”

“Not really,” he said with another shrug, “you just have to know that if someone is somebody’s dam it means they’re a direct ancestor in their clan. You’re not likely to run into the social distinctions. Except only direct dam’s siblings being uniquely referred to as such, but again you don’t really have to worry about it. All you have to worry about is these six are my dad’s siblings- aunt or uncle doesn’t matter it’ll translate the same in Osmosian. Everyone else? Is a cousin.”

“Okay…” That certainly explained why Kevin referred to nearly every relative she met as one. “I don’t see Aggregor, didn’t you say he was your uncle?”

“Eh,” Kevin made a so-so gesture, turning from the chart to her as he spoke. “He’s dad’s stepsibling. Well, technically probably his half or full sibling since his dam is Grandma’s favorite mate, but they aren’t from the same dam, just the same Nesting, so they’re stepsiblings. It’s just- We’ll get to it when we go to the next chart, okay?” Gwendolyn nodded. She definitely should’ve been taking notes, and to that end magicked over a pen and notebook.

“Alright,” she said, jotting down what she’d learned so far. Kevin was good enough to wait until she finished and gave him back her attention before continuing.

“In Osmosian clans,” he said, “you have your dams, your immediate dam’s siblings, your siblings, your children, your siblings’ children, and cousins. That’s all the distinction that’s made. Grandma’s siblings? My cousins. Alan’s future kids? My brother’s children. I guess it could be confusing? But for Osmosians the relationships are more-or-less the same outside of Nestings so, specifics aren’t really needed. Still, normally if it’s not within a generation or two and you’re dealing with other species you’ll just call them your cousin, and if you meet an Osmosian’s clanmate referring to them as a cousin is a pretty safe bet. Even if it’s not exactly right the gist will be there.” Shaking her head, Gwendolyn noted it down.

“Osmosians are weird.”

“You have different terms for cousins depending on degree of separation,” Kevin countered.

“Touché.”

“But yeah, that’s this chart. I figured grabbing all Grandma’s siblings too might have helped throw you off so, keeping it simple for you.” It was simpler than the one he’d showed her yesterday, by whole margins. Still far too many people for a family tree that started with his grandmother, but simpler. “Then we’ve got Dad’s Nesting chart.”

It was the Nesting charts that had killed her, cluttering up what had otherwise been a manageable family tree. Kevin had apologized profusely for confusing her, having not even considered that something that he’d learned to read as a small child might not be perfectly intuitive to someone used to the charts they’d taught in school, but still she got a sinking feeling as he pulled out the next chart.

“I reorganized it a bit, thought it might be easier for you to read this way.” And truly it was. Rather than the mess of lines and names crisscrossing through the family that had made up the day before’s Nesting charts, this was its own separate thing. Names arranged in a wheel pattern, with helpful lines and labels to describe relationships that she knew hadn’t been on the other ones.

“Decided to go all out on making sure I got it?”

“Yep,” Kevin said, flashing her a grin. “So, Dad’s Nesting, which isn’t a bad size given he started breeding in his late thirties and only lived to his sixties. We’ve got Dad,” he pointed to each person as he went, “Aggregor- there’s a term for a dam’s stepsibling who’s also a nestmate but it translates weird and ‘uncle’ is closest, so that’s why I use that- we’ve got my mom, and Kay’s mom, and Kwarrel. You’ll find him on the Jones chart to, marked as a cousin of my mom’s, so that’s why he’s labelled that here.” Gwendolyn jotted down the uncle-stepsibling thing with a nod as Kevin took a deep breath.

“Okay, here’s a bit that might be a bit confusing? So maybe pay attention. The Osmosian concept of ‘stepparent’ is, weird, by human standards? ‘Sire’ is functionally the same as ‘stepparent’, it’s the same word. And Osmosian also doesn’t distinguish sires. ‘Cause of how we breed any of your dam’s mates is considered equally likely to be your sire, so any mate your dam takes is considered as such. Which makes it a bit weird in situations like this one where my mom is only a little older than Kay is but is still considered his sire.” Kevin stopped there, which was nice because Gwendolyn needed the moment to process all that, rereading the notes she’d been taking over twice again to make sure.

“So, your mom is considered Kay’s sire, and Kay’s mom is considered your sire, so they’re both both of your moms?”

“Exactly!” Kevin fucking beamed seeing her get it right, lighting a little pocket of warmth in her gut. “Our relationship with Aggregor is the same, so there’s nothing really for noting there, but with Kwarrel… Technically he never got the chance to join the Nesting, but since he pretty much adopted me we’ve all sorta fudged the rules to put him in. So, since he’s considered my sire-”

“He’s also considered Kay’s, since there’s no differentiation.” Somehow Kevin’s grin got wider, a look Gwendolyn quickly mirrored.

“You’re getting it!” She was, and he was proud of her for it, and it felt wonderful. “So ya see, siblings share all relations. With stepsiblings… Actually I made a ‘what-if’ chart because none of our sires have other children, so-” He pulled out another chart, this one almost identical but for the addition of a few more people. “This one has Mike’s grandparents in it. The only reason my dad and his grandma weren’t officially nestmates, despite my dad half-raising her boys, is because his grandpa wasn’t comfortable with the whole thing, but if he hadn’t been…” Then Mike’s relationship with Kevin would’ve been the same as Kevin’s with Aggregor and just the thought made Gwendolyn want to go lie down. “So here we’re introducing stepsiblings. A stepsibling, among Osmosians, is another child of the Nesting you were raised in, that you don’t share a dam with. So Mike’s dad would’ve been my and Kay’s stepbrother, and if his grandma had had any more children while nestmates with my dad they also would’ve been my stepsiblings, even if they turned out to be my dad’s by blood. But if dad had had another child while nestmates with them, then that child would be Kay and I’s sibling and Mike’s dad and uncle’s stepsibling. Got it?”

She was not entirely sure she got it, but she took her notes and nodded anyway. Could always go back later and reread them until either everything clicked or she gave up and abandoned Kevin entirely.

“And your mom, Selan, and Kwarrel would be considered the Morningstars’ sires,” she asked instead.

“And Aggregor,” Kevin answered. “Even if they weren’t technically mates, since he has no other relation to their dam the title defaults to ‘sire’.”

“And if your mom had more kids, Kwarrel wouldn’t be considered their sire, but Aggregor would, because Kwarrel is considered her cousin.”

“Exactly.” Gwendolyn resisted the urge to groan, settling for a heavy sigh instead. She loved Kevin to bits, but holy shit how complicated could you make things? Or maybe it was just that she was so used to how things were done in the States, maybe somebody from another culture would follow easier.

She doubted it, but then everybody said her family had an ongoing ego problem.

“And this is what you guys do instead of marriage and stuff,” she asked, tone more accusatory that she’d meant it to be. There was nothing wrong with it, it was just confusing. Kevin seemed to just brush it off.

“It’s our equivalent,” he replied, “enough so that I’ve got to actively say ‘nestmates’ because the actual term gets translated to ‘spouses’ and when they can include your siblings it makes talking with non-Ossys awkward.”

“Okay then.” She could see how that would be weird. “So you guys basically marry kin, kind of?”

“It’s all about making and raising kids,” Kevin explained, sort of, “the raising part doesn’t discriminate. I have another chart.” He pulled over and unfolded the last chart, the smallest and simplest of the lot. Just four names, with relationships labelled. Kevin, Argit, Alan, Cooper. “Ta-da! My Nesting chart so far.” This one Gwendolyn paid the most attention to, for quite obvious reasons.

“Argit?”

“And I have planned to raise our eventual children together since before I cared whether you lived or died.” Uh-huh. She’d known they were nestmates, but now she was thinking she should’ve actually looked the term up instead of waiting to learn it now. Until today she’d been thinking something more akin to bond-brothers than ‘basically married’.

“Alan?”

“We’ve discussed it and we’d both feel better with kin involved. Since the two of us are the closest in age… It’s still a few years before it’s official but the plans are in place.” Better, and explained why he hadn’t called him his nestmate. Kevin was only just grown by Ossys standards, it probably needed to wait until Alan was too.

“And Cooper?”

“Okay maybe that one’s a bit presumptuous,” Kevin admitted, “but come on. Alan wants to wait a few years before bringing the topic up, just in case, but I have faith in them to at least end their relationship amicably enough to still nest together.” Gwendolyn really didn’t know how to parse that. It didn’t sound right, but that might have been an ear unused to Ossy things. Still, this all led up to her big question.

“And yet I notice I’m not on here anywhere.” Kevin tensed.

“Yeah, I figured if we were talking about Nestings… Nobody’s really discussed you yet.” She frowned, almost a scowl, and fixed him with a sharp look. His expression dropped further and he wrapped an arm around her, pulled her close to press a kiss to her hair. “Babe, I love you to pieces, I do, but that’s not what Nestings are. Like I said, they’re about making and raising kids, romance doesn’t enter into it. It can but it’s not some big part of it.” The affirmation of love was nice, but not as big a help and he probably hoped.

“So, what, three years in and now I get to learn you want kids with Argit but not me?” He kept his face in her hair.

“I didn’t say that. I said nobody’s discussed this. I’m still working out how I feel on the matter, nonetheless Argit, and if we can’t at least determine where we each stand? We’re sure as fuck not dragging Alan in.” Pulling away, he met her gaze and kept it. “The entire reason I included the last chart was as an opening for us to talk about it, or at least know it’s something we need to talk about. To get it out there that this is a thing we haven’t and need to eventually figure out where we stand on.” Gwendolyn took a deep breath, releasing it in a sigh.

“And where do you stand?” She needed to know. The world wasn’t crumbling- he was right, they never had discussed things like kids and marriage, they’d both known the other was interested in eventuallys but they’d never talked and now- She’d just seen what might be a massive crack forming and she needed to know what she was working with.

“I love you,” Kevin said again, “and I think you’d sire me some amazing kids. But your family is a mess, and-” He took a deep breath and visibly steeled himself. “And you’re a mess, and I worry about the effect that would have when it comes to the ‘raising’ side of things.” She didn’t quite see red, but Gwendolyn did pull away, eyes narrowing and frown turning into a proper scowl as she tensed.

“I’m a mess? Have you looked in a mirror?” Kevin flinched. Good.

“That,” he said, fist clenched tight but otherwise calm, “is why I don’t plan on having kids anytime soon. Because I’ve still got shit to work on and I know it.” His eyes turned hard, gaze more disappointed than anything. It stung. “The first boundary I tried to set with you you laughed at and then ignored completely.” He’d liked her, she’d liked him, forgive her for not letting him just hide from that. “You still ignore them when it suits you.” He kept putting up walls. “And that’s before we touch on the whole ‘I’m upset so Kevin gets hurt’ thing that’s going on.” He kept being an asshole and she knew he was better than that. “But it’s fine. It’s not often and I’m a grown adult, I can decide that things are good enough to put up with that.” ‘Put up with’, like she was the problem- “But what happens when it’s my kids, Gwendolyn?”

That snapped her to attention. He hadn’t used her name since she’d come out, always the gender neutral ‘babe’ and ‘G’. He was serious. More so than she’d seen him in a long time.

“What happens when my kids wanna set a boundary that you don’t like? Because so far experience says you’re going to tread right over it, potentially while giving them shit for trying to set it in the first place.” She wouldn’t- “Or what if they do something that upsets you? That pisses you off? Because so far fifty-fifty odds they’re gonna come out of it with bruises, either because you hurt them or you let them get hurt-” She’d never- “-and that wouldn’t end well for you, I’m saying it now.” Kevin was still looking at her, mouth a thin line, forcibly calm. “It’d be one thing if I could trust you to just, stay out of the parenting side of things. There’s no shame in just providing security, it’s what my mom signed up for. But I know you, and I know you wouldn’t want that. But kids can’t walk away if it gets too much like I can, not safely, and I can’t nest with you if there’s a chance you could hurt them like you hurt me. I’d never be able to live with myself.”

‘If there’s a chance you could hurt them like you hurt me.’

Gwendolyn’s first instinct was to knock the chair out from under him. He was accusing her of being willing, being able, to abuse children! Their children! And it wouldn’t hurt him, it wouldn’t, because he was built like a truck and twice as sturdy-

Except it would, wouldn’t it? He’d just said. And she damn well knew it, whether she wanted to admit it or not. That’s why she wanted to, because his words hurt and she wanted him to hurt too and- And he was worried she’d do the same thing to the kids if she got the chance.

Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath, forced herself to relax just like her martial arts training and magic practice had stamped into her. One by one she pulled up memories of the sort of events she knew Kevin was talking about. The early days, before and during their relationship, when she pushed and pried for as much of him as she could get because she liked him and he liked her and it wasn’t supposed to go the way it was. Dragging him with them to Legerdomain when he trusted nothing and wanted to stay away. Dropping him in that tunnel. Shoving him on Galvan Prime. Tripping him in her dorm just last week. There was no pride there, there never had been, just a dark satisfaction.

She replaced his image in them, put in a little hybrid with big brown eyes and auburn hair.

The warmth in her gut was long gone. Now the whole thing fell out to a pit.

Maybe she should’ve taken her Aunt Sandra’s advice on the therapy.

Another deep breath, let out slow, and she opened her eyes. Kevin hadn’t moved, but the line of his mouth was starting to curve down, shoulders tense, eyes softening to something more concerned. Gwendolyn heaved another sigh.

“I have been a bit of an asshole, haven’t I.” It wasn’t a question. Still, it seemed answer enough as Kevin’s lips twitched into a little smile and he went to slip a lock of hair behind her ear, adjusting her glasses as he went.

“In your defense, so have I.” Nope. Nope, she was not taking that out, not when she’d just actually let herself realize how she’d been behaving. Even if he was right, and it wasn’t often, it wasn’t right. She knew better.

“You never wanted to hurt me,” she said, noting as his arm flinched and knowing he knew exactly what she meant. As much as something in her throat wanted to scream that she’d never want to see him in pain, that she wasn’t that sort of person, it would be a lie. The boundaries were one thing, they felt like walls he was putting up between them and she wanted to know everything. To sink inside him and know every amazing twist and turn that made him. But hurting him, that had been all anger. That didn’t stop him smiling at her though, lips quirking further into a half-hearted smirk.

“I wouldn’t go that far,” he admitted, “I’ve wanted to hurt you plenty. But I’ve got a lot of years of fighting those urges back into something manageable.” He sighed, smirk slipping into something fake. “It can be rough, going from ‘I’m hurting so others should to’ to ‘I just want to not hurt’.” Oh no, no no no. Gwendolyn went to cup his jaw, pressing her lips against his in a soft, chaste kiss that he didn’t return. He did let himself melt into it though, lips twitching up again, and that was good enough for her.

“I’m sorry,” she said, more breathed, as she pulled back, “I didn’t…” Didn’t what? Mean to hurt him? She’s already admitted to that, both to herself and him. Realize it was working so well? She wasn’t quite that blind. Realize she was being a raging asshole ahead of the guy she swore up and down she was trying to fix? Yeah, that. That one worked. Not that she got to say it before Kevin kissed her back. Quicker than hers, hardly more than a brush of chapped lips on hers.

“Already forgiven,” he said, and for the first time it truly hit her just how lucky she was to have him. If there was one thing she agreed with Argit on, it was that Kevin could have anybody he wanted, and to know he still wanted her, was forgiving her, at this moment when she really didn’t feel like she deserved him at all- The only words that came to mind were ‘glass slipper moment’.

“Still, I’m going to be better. I promise.” Not a promise, a vow. She was better than that, he deserved better than that. “But I think-” Gwendolyn chuckled half-heartedly- “we should maybe hold off on the nesting talk for a while. Until I’ve got this in hand.” Kevin nodded, face glowing with a soft smile that’d always made her heart do flips and working overtime now.

“Sure thing, babe,” he said, sliding one hand over hers. “I’ll be right here if you need me.” Despite the pit of shame in her gut and the excuses still shoving at the back of her mind, she had to smile at that. Her fucking puppy dog of a partner.

“Thanks.” Shifting her hand to lace their fingers together, she leaned her forehead against him and relished the near purr it got from him.

She didn’t know where they’d settle on things later, didn’t even fully understand what the concepts were he wanted to discuss, but next time, she swore, it wouldn’t be her he was worrying about.

[ryttu3k]

Hello naughty children it's Gehenna time.

...which means I'm going to read the book properly this time and write notes on each scenario, partially for my own reference, partially in answer to an ask from @rayshell22livejournalcom​ from about a zillion years ago. Sorry about that!

Mood soundtrack: Godspeed You! Black Emperor - F# A# ∞; Lift Your Skinny Fists Like Antennas To Heaven; Yanqui U.X.O.

Prelude: Netchurch is an interesting character. Very skeptical, despite, well, the entire setting, although that's definitely, uh, broken by the end. Feel very sad for Afifa, who was a pawn in all this. Creepy babies galore!

Introduction: "While Vampire favors that futile, tragic, and - we'll say it - angst-heavy conclusion" - lmao you don't say. Although I do like how they have the consistent golden rule that if you don't like it, just ditch it! (Of course, the Gehenna scenarios as a whole have been completely retconned anyway by v20 and v5, so this entire book is a good example of taking what you want from it and ignoring the rest.)

"Some people are on opposite sides of this thing. They're elders who don't want to knuckle under to the Antediluvians (most elders will accept their proper place in the heirarchy again with the rising of their progenitors) and poor, misled souls who bought into the lie and are pissed about it (paging Mr. Pieterzoon). Bottom line: the Camarilla collapses like Enron/WorldCom as the worthlessness of its foundation becomes public knowledge. Chaos ensues among the vampire community, princes find themselves besieged by their own locals, and it's all a big clusterfuck."

Have I ever mentioned I love how VtM phrases stuff? Also F to Jan.

I like how they have a masterlist of what's actually going on with the Antediluvians. Spoilers ;D "For example, note that [Tzimisce] is simply referred to as [Tzimisce]. Even here at the game studio, our limited mortal minds weren't able to comphrenend the creature's real name." Lovecraft only WISHES he had eldritch abominations this spooky! Ennoia is 'Active and scary' and apparently spooks the devs just thinking about it. Makes sense. "Giovanni (Augustus Giovanni): Augustus is a pig, and he should probably die as one of the early events of Gehenna. He's the youngest of the Antediluvians and probably possessed the greatest ego (in mortal terms), so it'll be cosmic justice when he eats it." I love how no one likes Giovanni, even his creators. Malkav may or may not BE the Madness Network, in which case they cease to be an Antediluvian and just become... a part of the Malkavians, I guess? Absimiliard may or may not be chilling at the bottom of the ocean, because mood. Tremere / Saulot is definitely a fun one to play with, yeah. Although, oof, if Saulot ever gets control of their shared body, he's going to be fucked up if [Tzimisce] activates, so. Probably better to create a nice fresh body, like what BJD suggests with the child Saulot.

Chapter 1 - the lead-up: Basically a rundown of the signs and how they're interpreted. "An angel dies: How does an angel die? Who has the gall to rise up and slay one of God's firstborn? Or perhaps this is another metaphor. An angel could be a pure and gentle creature, or then again, it need not be one of God's angels (not that God's angels are necessarily pure and gentle). A feared and particularly vicious Necronomist Tzimisce, Sascha Vykos is sometimes referred to as the Angel of Caine. Many would rejoice the night that Vykos died." Hey rude :( I vote they kill Michael instead. He wants to be an Archangel? Fine, he can fulfill a prophesy XD

Honestly I really do dig that Ennoia Earthmelded with the entire planet. You can go so many directions with that, good or bad! Ennoia as The Beast Below, or Ennoia as Gaia? (Wow, that'd really fuck with the Garou XD) I love how the general consensus on Haqim is like, no one knows if he exists or not but lbr Ur-Shulgi is bad enough. Kinda dig the idea of the Toreador ante, Ishtar/Arikel, being genderfluid? I mean yeah essentially demigods have no need for gender anyway, but the constant debates over whether the Toreador ante is the female Ishtar or the male Arikel (or, uh, was it vice versa?) does lead to some interesting concepts. Ooh, similar to [Tzimisce] being linked to its entire clan (and the Tremere, anyone who's ever taken part in the Vaulderie, and anyone who knows Vicissitude), [Lasombra] may be connected to anyone who knows Obtenebration? [Ravnos]... yeah, probably dead. F to the clan. And yeah I think [Tzimisce] is flat-out the scariest one of all, and probably the one most likely to actually start the apocalypse, lbr.

Ugh this is one of the books that calls Sascha 'it' :-\ Do not like. ...Also do not like the suggestion that they're an unknowing agent of the Eldest, given, uh, the last chapter of the DA Tzimisce novel. Shoo! Shoo! You've ruined their unlife enough as it is!

Epistolary material! I do dig those. Most interesting: a letter to Sascha mentioning apocalyptic visions of New York but with the Carpathians in the background, and an anonymous letter to Hardestadt warning him of one of his line tearing down a castle that the writer feels believes the Camarilla. GO JAN FUCK IT UP.

And on to the scenarios themselves!

Chapter 2 - Wormwood: This is an interesting one. Literally a Biblical vengeance - God takes a good look at the Children of Caine and goes, "Well, this is fucked up", acknowledges that Caine never really sought true forgiveness and repentance, and sets forth Wormwood, the Red Star. The truly repentant are saved, the rest just. Die.

Herald here is a dhampir girl named Alia - thinblood father, human mother. When she's twelve, she becomes God's chosen, basically. Traveling with three thinblood guardians, one night, she's approached a Gargoyle named Ferox with True Faith, who sees himself as a fallen angel. And Alia offers him a way of redemption - find the chosen true believers, wait out Wormwood, receive judgement. Anyone can seek sanctuary, only the true believers and the ones genuinely willing to repent will survive the judgement itself. Alia and Ferox set out to find the other chosen ones.

Whew. Very full-on - the players remain in one place with a whole bunch of other vampires for forty nights. I mean, that's a test in and of itself XD All welcome! (Except infernalists and the antediluvians and Caine himself. They're fucked no matter what.)

Like. All welcome XD "Some Storytellers might feel that this character roundup could get too silly, suddenly having all these celebrity Kindred get together for a big slumber party, and they would be correct." Fuck that give me a slumber party AU XD

Am very glad about the note that the vampires inside only lose one blood point per 10 days, rather than every day. Otherwise, uh, it'd get gory.

Yeah, this is a really interesting scenario. Very character-focused, very introspective. All about the characters trying to work out what it means to be good people - not the strongest vampires, not the most powerful, but good people. Are they worthy of salvation? That's the crux of the story. Of course, it's very, uh, Biblical, heh, but it's first and foremost about morality and redemption. I dig it.

Also, giant vampire slumber party.

Chapter 3 - Fair is Foul: Ooh, this is a Lilith vs Caine scenario.

This one has the Withering hit in weird ways, including clan-specific ones - like the Banu Haqim only able to feed on vitae, then only able to gain sustenance from diablerie. Gangrel turn even more animalistic. Lasombra take to the seas, Obtenebration ripping holes straight to the Abyss. Malks, uh, leak madness. Nosferatu get even uglier, Toreador devolve into debauchery. Tremere develop third eyes, and yes, I did laugh out loud when I read that. Tzimisce... hmm... get a bit, uh, uncontrolled. And Ventrue find they can now only feed on... other Ventrue. Fun times!

"At your discretion, Lilith might be particularly vulnerable to Jewish True Faith, as the Jewish tales about her are the source of nearly every negative sentiment ever directed against her in writing. As a result, most orthodox Jews bear Lilith great contempt for defying her husband and her God." Yeah ngl I think she's pretty dang cool and I can just see, like, most of my ancestors facepalming at the idea XD;; Fuck obediance you do your own thing.

"Trying to work out traits for Lilith, Lucifer, Caine, or any of the Antediluvians would just be a waste of our word count and your time." I like the time they published a guide for fighting Caine. It was two words. "You lose."

Ah. Okay, Saulot in Tremere's body being taken over by the Eldest = scary, because have you ever been attacked by an Antediluvian wielding Thaumaturgy, Valeran, and Vicissitude at the SAME :) TIME? :) Yeah :)

Really dig the idea of Abel showing up as the first Wraith. The forgiveness element.

Overall, this isn't my favourite scenario, I think? It feels very chaotic, and while it's probably the most traditional to play, I'm not sure how much it literally challenges the characters, unlike the sheer soul-searching...ness of Wormwood?

Chapter 4 - Nightshade: Chapter starts with, "We all wear masks" and my first thought was "boy you have no idea" XD

Awww yes this is the masquerade break scenario! See here for my thoughts on that and how the Nephtali could be adapted to v5, heh.

Yeah okay earthquakes, volcanoes, and riots are normal enough. A horrible blood virus where it appears some flesh-like thing is living in people's veins and feeding off their blood sounds like something that starts with T and rhymes with Shzimitze. ...Probably. No one knows how the fuck it's pronounced anyway. Oops, those riots are apparently over the existence of vampires. Yeah that'd be... unfortunate. And more earthquakes, this time due to Kupala vs the Eldest. Whew. Red star, yep, standard. MORE earthquakes, this time due to the Second City rising. Sounds legit. Bad times all around!

The details on breaking the Masquerade are interesting. Basic emotions: denial, rationalisation, fear, anger, acceptance. The acceptance one is interesting, because I can definitely see some jumping to it straight away.

So, on to the scenario itself! Jan recruits the players to fight the... uh, mass under NYC. This is the corpse of the Eldest, which is more or less a giant fungal infection held together with Vicissitude, which frankly is just icky. This actually is  canon-compliant with BJD, since it apparently has only just... dissipated? or whatever there, or if it still remains, it's no longer conscious. In this one, its soul flicks back to Tremere's/Saulot's body and wakes up, and basically every Tzimisce, Tremere, and anyone who has ever drank Tzimisce blood (which would be the entire Sabbat via Vaulderie) spontaneously frenzies. Godspeed. Cyscek, a Tzimisce methuselah, helps defeat the, uh, blob at the expense of his life, and warns with his last words, "The Dragon rises. You must stop it. Find Vykos. [They] know." (Okay yeah the text says 'it knows' but also fuck that.) Ooh, plot point!

Aaaand then they retreat from the battle, exhausted, only to find the whole damn thing broadcast on every TV screen, vampiric Disciplines and Cyscek dusting and all. W h o o p s.

Lots and lots of details of a major masquerade breach here. Hardestadt shows up and tells Jan he's proooobably gonna get Final Death for, you know, trying to save the world. Gonna share this bit because it's Very Satisfying.

Please refer to my tag #hardestadt has no rights ;D

Anyway! The characters now recruited, Jan leads them back to London for the Convention of Fire. He's working with Calebros and... like a bunch of others, probably anyone can end up here, so long as they want to actually help and not just fall apart like the remnants of the Camarilla (trying to diablerise their way into keeping power) and the Sabbat (...ditto tbh). Those definitely in attendance are Ambrogino Giovanni, Hesha Ruhadze, and Fatima! And lbr the Nod Squad are probably there too. As if Beckett would pass up the chance to NOT witness what's happening with Gehenna. And Anatole is literally a prophet of Gehenna! They found the Nephtali, led by a council of twelve, with Jan at the head. Name means 'the highest point' or 'no further' - as in, Gehenna goes no further than this.

Oh lmao here we go, the scene I mentioned earlier - Jan vs talk shows.

F to Jan.

Tremere's body (inhabited by Saulot) disappears from beneath the Vienna chantry. Tremere's body, with [Tzimisce] now well in control (having overtaken Saulot; Tremere, meanwhile, has taken over Goratrix's body, with Goratrix's mind stuck in a mirror... it's complicated), wipes out the Vienna chantry. RIP to the Vienna chantry, which doesn't survive in either timeline tbh. Hey, I wonder if that means that Saulot (in Tremere's body) is dead in v5? Etrius manages to escape and reports that the Eldest is now on the way to Ceoris, where it'll call all the remaining Tzimisce to it to become, uh, a part. Pleasant.

Everything between Krakow and Bucharest is straight fukk’d. Ceoris is the centre of all this - IIRC it's somewhere in the southern Carpathians, nearish Brasov. Either way, hell of a fight results with what can only be described as an eldritch abomination, finally both managing to destroy Kupala (the Eldest's goal) and reducing The Thing down to a human-looking body. This bit is interesting! Tremere (in Goratrix' body) and Etrius take one look at each other. "Master..." "I... I know. But where the hell is Saulot?!" Good question, because he sure ain't in Tremere's, uh, former body any more, which was in fact what was fighting them the whole time. Either way, Tremere-in-Goratrix'-body leaps at [Tzimisce]-in-Tremere's-body and diablerises his, um, former body, which must be weird as hell, then tries to turn on the characters and his powers fuckiNG FAIL. EAT SHIT TREMERE. And then the players kill him too and realise that over the course of one night they've destroyed the demon Kupala and two Antediluvians, Tremere and the Eldest. Not bad. This is the battle that causes that second lot of earthquakes I mentioned earlier.

Back to London! They find the mirror containing Goratrix amongst Tremere's belongings. Poor fucker sorry not sorry.

And now the players receive a summons to escort someone from Montreal to the Nephtali headquarters in London! Namely, a Tzimisce named Myca Vykos~ They've recently defected from the Sabbat and want to help take the Antediluvians tf down. (Note: the book here has reverted to using he/him pronouns since they're back in their original form, I'm going to keep using they/them because biological sex does not determine gender identity or pronouns goddammit. ...Anyway. I AM going to use the name Myca since that's the name they're using themself, mostly because, uh, 'Myca' is a bit less noticeable than 'Sascha Vykos', haha.)

So Gehenna has started. Myca's woken up in their original form and being like, "Hey you know what I am preTTY SURE I don't want to serve the Eldest" and promptly joins the Nephtali.

From New York to London to Romania to London to Montreal to London (...London is a hub world apparently), now off to Turkey, to Kaymakli! Which is actually a real place, my brother's been on a tour there. Anyway, this is the part of Kaymakli that they don't show the tourist and that's been sealed shut with lots of angry Cappadocians instead, so that was fun. Presumably Kapaneus hasn't been chilling out there in this one.

Also Colombia has completely been overtaken by the Sabbat so that sucks.

Into Kaymakli! Which usually doesn't let Cainites back out so it may be one-way. Don't worry, there's a ritual for that. At the bottom, they find Augustus Giovanni! Who is pissed off he never actually got to eat Cappadocius' soul and so wants to eat God instead.

As you do.

The book very strongly encourages the players to kill him. Just 'cause. Which is a mood, tbh. Killing him also reveals a beaten, bound Nosferatu, having been Giovanni's most recent food source. An F for Okulos. He's been there for four years, having managed to get a lost fragment of the Book of Nod for Beckett, who promised to come back for him and. Didn't. Which is just rude tbh and I can kind of understand why Okulos ends up betraying Beckett in the Gehenna novel but anyway. (Not canon as of v20, he's perfectly present and chill in BJD.)

End results - the fragment that Okulos went to retrieve shows how to restore the Second City, which holds a complete Book of Nod and may hold the key to stopping Gehenna. It's in Enochian so your player characters probably won't be able to read it (book suggests asking Sascha or Ambrogino). Next stop, Egypt, and a meeting with Hesha Ruhadze! Man this scenario has a lot of signature characters. It also suggests getting third parties in here too, so Beckett would actually be a really good choice. Either way, they find the probable site, and suddenly, a Second City.

Archeologists make grabby hands. Beckett, somewhere, is probably crying in joy. They find a vial with some very old blood in it that they definitely shouldn't drink because otherwise they'll explode (the book uses Sascha as the example here XD;; ). Along with some mystical enscriptions, they return to London and get to work on the prophecy - namely, it suggests that 'the gentle one' (likely Saulot) will die at the hands of another, but arise in a new form, and will stop Gehenna that way. Etrius, one of the only Tremere left and having joined the Nephtali, goes 'fuck it what do I have to lose?' and goes to find whatever new form Saulot is in (potentially can also involve Goratrix here).

Hm. Well. Saulot is apparently in a research centre outside Sydney. Apparently we're mostly chill with vampires, aside from Christians XD Go figure!

Apparently it's a cloning facility. One of the rooms had, past tense, a child, successfully cloned six-year-old, who was in perfect physical form but vegetative from birth. Religious characters will pick up that it's because the kid's body didn't have a soul. Now, it does - Saulot's. Having been thrown out of Tremere's body when the Eldest took over, his soul fled until it could find the most suitable vessel - a soulless cloned body. No actual soul to have to subdue. Saulot ends up reborn, albeit in the form of a six-year-old and without any memories. Turns out, the child was taken by a cult of Thinbloods, believing him to be the messiah.

Sydney's messy situation gets described here! Short version, Sydney's Prince is/was Sarrasine, who was a Toreador. Except he wasn't a Toreador, it was a fairly open secret he was only POSING as a Toreador - he was actually a Caitiff. (Except he's not actually a Caitiff. He's a sixth-gen Setite. Sydney is Like That, yes.) Given Sydney's independence from the sects and its apparent Caitiff Prince, it's become a major site of Caitiff and Thinbloods, which Sarrasine is just thrilled about but can't do anything about because he doesn't want to actually go 'lol I'm a Setite'. Anyway, either way, everyone is unaware of Saulot's return, so the players seek out the little boy, who's pretty spooked and confused. Asks the characters, "Who are you? What is this place? What do all these people want?" and his third eye opens. Tada! Salubri Antediluvian, and like the prophecy mentioned, he's 'unholy' and 'a mockery in the face of God' - a clone.

Back to London with kid!Saulot. The Nephtali have been trying to work out what tf is going on. A researcher tried drinking from the vial. It was messy. The characters might get some downtime. Sarrasine's followers may attack to try and get the kiddo back. Either way, everyone goes to bed, and wakes up to find a Darkness having overtaken the sun, which is generally not good for anyone, and Lasombra characters are just, feels bad man. The Veil of Darkness means vampires can be up 24/7, along with other things that don't like sunlight, and I imagine things like... plants not being thrilled. Also probably very confused animals. I'm not sure if it's like a dark atmosphere, or a physical body between the sun and Earth that just eclipses it whatever vantage point you look from, or what? Disciplines like Auspex, Obfuscate, and Obtenebration go a bit fucky. Then, a few days later, everyone feels a... Summons. For low-generation vampires with still-living Antediluvians, it's strongest. Higher gens with destroyed Antes, not so bad. So I'm sure you can guess what's summoning them.

Yep. Antediluvians. Banu Haqim are getting summoned to Alamut instead so Ur-Shulgi can turn them into an army against the Antediluvians, so godspeed resisting that, Elijah.

Off to the city of Gehenna (it's nearish Jerusalem). Elders of all stripes have been heading there to kill their childer in hope of being rewarded by their Antediluvians to get their powers restored, which is terribly rude. Indeed, the Antediluvians basically go, hey, can you not, and also can you start Embracing more childer for our armies, because they're not very nice either. Pretty much all the characters have been summoned for their crimes against the Antediluvians, and now they're gathered before them - Set, [Lasombra], Ennoia, Absimiliard, Malkav (as like... a cluster of identical little girls with glowing eyes because of course Malkav would use the Creepy Child trope), and [Toreador], who's so beautiful no one can tell if they're male or female. When the players and child!Saulot get there, they question him, but he's literally a six-year-old boy and is spooked. He also has the vial, somehow. Set takes it, and Kiddo says, "Don't drink it. You'll burn up." So Set makes Kiddo drink it instead, because he's a nice guy like that.

Kiddo's third eye opens. A giant black throne appears. The dozen small girls that are Malkav say, "Father's home." Kiddo!Saulot says, "No, Father's dead." Girls start screaming so loud people start bleeding thick black blood from their ears and doesn't stop until Set kills all twelve. A random stranger, now with their glowing eyes, steps forward and basically goes 'wow rude'.

Powerful beam of light appears. The Antes (aside from Kiddo!Saulot) writhe in pain. Angel appears, asks Saulot if he's willing to atone for all vampires. He agrees. Throne explodes, Antes fuckin' die, and everyone promptly frenzies and tries to eat each other, because vampires. In the aftermath of that, vampirism basically... ends. The player characters may be rewarded by becoming human again, as do a lot of Thinbloods, but most everyone older just, uh, dies. Vampirism ends, but the Earth has been saved.

That is... hmm, bittersweet, I think. It's a pretty compelling chronicle, very dramatic, but it's much less character-based and is more, 'the characters get dragged along to Do Shit'. I kind of like the idea of it being a story involving the characters we know, but for original characters, I think Wormwood is a much more compelling scenario so far.

Chapter 5 - The Crucible of God: Okay I'm tired now and this is the 'rocks fall everyone dies' scenario so gonna skim-read this one.

This is the chapter that introduces the level 10 power for all disciplines - Plot Device. The Antediluvians can do shit because they feel like it. Whew. Also, if an Ante spots anyone of their blood line, they can just make them... explode and their blood gushes into their mouth. Monch monch. Spot another clan mate? Roll to avoid frenzy. Just woke up? Roll to avoid frenzy. Good times!

And then the Tzimisce Antediluvian awoke as a mass of Vicissitude flesh fungal infestation with tentacles and lampray mouths and stuff and ate anything in reach until it ate, uh, every living thing in Manhattan. In one night. Bad day tbh. Eventually it burns when the sun rises, but what's left underground is still there and shit's still messed up. Like picking a leaf off a dandelion and it starts bleeding. Trees with faces, swarms of insects forming into eyes and watching. Nice and creepy. In the aftermath, it's basically infecting every life form on Earth with Vicissitude, which is distinctly uncool.

Absimliard has an animal army and currently looks like a giant humanoid jellyfish.

Oh boy here's the Banu Haqim part XD;; Interestingly, it's a lot better for them! Haqim doesn't eat his childer, they feel themselves strongly bonded to him but still maintain their own minds and wills. Downside, anyone who doesn't follow Haqim alone gets hunted down so he can eat them, so Ur-Shulgi's probably having a field day at being vindicated and poor Pyre/Elijah is hiding tf under the bed. Plus side, it only lasts a few months before something kills Haqim, so hey! And there's genuinely a way to become human again, especially for high-humanity, high-gen vampires, so that actually would be a genuinely good outcome for Pyre/Elijah.

Malkavians end up as a giant hive mind. Like, more than usual. [Lasombra] covers the world in darkness, then it stops. Ennoia merges with the entire planet and starts eating people. And vampires. And Methuselah. And other Antediluvians. She's kinda hangry at this point.

Tremere attempts to rule the entire world using the Human Genome Project as the true name of the entirety of humanity. It lasts about two minutes before [Tzimisce] turns him into a meat crime, along with, uh, the entire rest of the world, aside from the players, who were part of Tremere's ritual and thus immune from it.

Also Saulot, who they just met in the form of a little old man.

Turns out, he planned it all along. Lured Tremere to him, knowing that his body was tainted by using Tzimisce blood to become a vampire. Knew that when the Eldest returned, he'd be succeptable, and Saulot would be able to bounce out when the Eldest took over. Now, he can lead the characters in the only way to stop Planet Tzimisce, which is, uh, prayer and letting themselves get eaten. Could actually work! And you end up human again in the bargain!

End result - all vampires gone. Some of the more human ones do end up human again. Either way, world's still fucked. Open Antediluvian rule for several months has destroyed most of humanity. There are still remnants - former Malkavians who are still a bit weird, former Tzimisce who are a bit... Vicissitudey. Ennoia's still around! She's mostly chill except when she occasionally feels like rearranging landscapes. Otherwise, it's time to recover.

Alternate endings - that last one wasn't depressing enough, so here's a scenario where All Is Tzimisce, here's one where there's global extinction of literally everything except the player characters who gradually drop into torpor and never recover (or just flat out burn if they're outside), or there's one where the players are the only vampires left and start a new cycle with them as the new Antediluvians or something, oh and Caine's still kicking and is Very Displeased that God won't let him die already. Gooood times!

Rest is how to basically play it, and character sheets. Which go back to calling Sascha ‘it’ again *sigh* (And using the whole alien look despite explicitly mentioning that they look human again. Of course.)

So, final thoughts! Gehenna is... an interesting scenario. Lots of possibility for introspection. It’s very... apocalyptic, and that may bother a lot of people, since, well, for the most part, it’s going to be the end of playing your character as a vampire. Which I figure most people are playing Vampire the Masquerade for. So it’s basically either a hell of a finale, or you just don’t make use of it.

Favourite scenario did end up being Wormwood. I just really like the introspection and opportunity for hope. Did also enjoy Nightshade, but in a different way, I think? Like for Nightshade, I’d rather read it as existing characters working together, maybe as a novel, whereas for Wormwood I’d want to play it since it’s such an intensely personal kind of thing.

(I also still want a slumber party AU ngl.)

[trensu]

Episode 46: The One with All the Yunmeng Bros Angst

gross, ouyang and yao are talking. let’s ignore them!

blah blah plot plot blah

ooh thank god, wwx is now the one talking

being all detective-y and asking relevant questions

I LOVE MY SUNSHINE BOY WHEN HE'S BEING CLEVER

wwx makes some Plot Relevant Point and yao is like I DISAGREE bc ofc he fucking does

LOL WWX'S FACE WHEN YAO INTERRUPTS LIKE THAT

IT'S LIKE HE'S BITING DOWN ON HIS TONGUE TO NOT SNAP SOMETHING BACK

kudos to him on his self-control tbh but it's wasted on yao. 

wwx is all asking things like why are you ladies fessing up now, oh and btw that's a real neat bracelet you got there...

and then nhs is like, gee i wonder what kind of person would've sent these ladies here today

LOLOLOL NHS IS SUCH A TROLL OMG

and yao is like DETAILS DON'T MATTER, WHAT IS CRITICAL THINKING ANYWAY LET'S GO MURDER FOR JUSTICE AGAIN

and everyone else is like, HEY, THIS LOUD GUY HAS A POINT LET'S GO MURDER

okay, they don't actually say anything about murder but they're harping about "justice" 

The last time they did that, it resulted in murder so i'm gonna go ahead and assume this time isn't any different

lwj: many skeptical points remain

THANK YOU, LWJ, FOR BEING SENSIBLE

oh, and i would like to point out that the crowd had been getting rowdy 

but the minute lwj interjected there they all fell silent

My guy didn't even raise his voice and was able to shut up a whole room full of people.

I LOVE YOU HANGUANG JUN

lqr: what are they?

wwx: SO MANY. 

wwx makes some Points and is like so we got some witnesses now but where's the HARD EVIDENCE GUYS??

and yao is like, whatever, we'll find it sooner or later now that we know THE TRUTH

and wwx's reaction lolol

it's like oh my god how stupid is this guy, that's not how it works, that's not how ANY of this works

I FEEL YOUR PAIN, WWX, I FEEL IT IN MY SOUL

ppl are blabbering Plot Stuff

i'm just gonna enjoy the occasional shots of wwx and lwj's beautiful faces

blah blah blah plot plot plot blah

gosh, my boys are so pretty

LOOK AT THEM BEING PRETTY, I LOVE THEM

(i say as the crowd devolves into vicious mob mentality)

wwx's had enough of this and turns to leave bc angry mobs are old news at this point

And we all know how he ended up last time there was an angry mob

but yao and some rando interrupt his exit as if they have ANY RIGHT to speak to my sunshine boy at all

Eventually we DO escape sword hall and the mob of stupid people and our boys are alone together wandering lotus pier!!!

they're reviewing Plot Info and bouncing ideas off each other and IT'S BEAUTIFUL, THEY'RE SO SMART AND IN LOVE

They determine that they don't have enough clues to say who the mysterious 3rd party is

but they def have enough evidence showing jgy murdered nmj and is generally an evil conniving bastard.

lwj mentions that he's going to send word to his brother to be careful since jgy is EVIL FOR SURE NOW.

oooh, our boys just came upon the jiang clan's ancestral shrine

wwx freezes, eyes red-rimmed and shiny, MY POOR SUNSHINE BOY

lwj: what's wrong?

ALL OF HIS ATTENTION IS GLUED TO WWX'S EVERY MOVE ALL THE TIME, ISN'T IT??

SEE HOW INTENTLY HE LOOKS AT WWX??

me too, lan zhan, me too

wwx: nothing. it's the ancestral hall of the jiang clan

he says this softly, like it hurts to acknowledge it or smth

lwj: do you want to enter?

wwx: no

WHICH IS A BLATANT LIE

EVERYTHING ABOUT HIM IS SCREAMING HOW MUCH HE WANTS TO GO IN THERE

they make to turn away and pause for a moment, during which wwx looks back at the shrine longingly

cut to the next scene where we see wwx burning some incense sticks in the shrine

AND OUR BOYS BOW TOGETHER  3x TO M-YU, JFM, AND JYL

wwx greets his deceased loved ones solemnly

wwx: it's me. i'm here to disturb you again.

idk about m-yu and jfm, BUT JYL WOULD NEVER THINK WWX'S PRESENCE WAS A DISTURBANCE

now wwx is telling lwj about how he used to spend a ton of time in that shrine bc m-yu would punish him by sending him there to, idk, reflect on his sins before the ancestors or smth

and lwj is like, yeah, i heard about that

then wwx comments on how he's never met a woman as irritable as m-yu, and how she punished him for trifles all the time

then he laughs bashfully and says "my fault, my fault" and bows another 3x bc omg wwx you can't speak ill of the dead, especially not at their shrine

this is a nice moment between them so far, actually. 

it's nice to hear wwx reminisce in a way that's not 100% painful

and the fact that he's sharing these little bits of inconsequential info with lwj, his soulmate, is just very sweet to me

lwj: won't you tell jc?

wwx: idk. at least not yet

lwj: after all, you two are sworn brothers

it's nice of lwj to acknowledge that, without any sort of rancor in his tone, considering how much he does not care for jc (to put it mildly)

wwx: since the misunderstanding between us is so deep, it's not that easy to solve

HE SOUNDS SO RESIGNED, AND THE LITTLE SMILE THAT FLASHED BRIEFLY THERE WAS JUST SO SAD

and then he's like, besides, I created Plot Device 2, regardless of whether or not jgy ended up using it to make Plot Device 3

UH OH, HERE COMES JC

jc: wei wuxian

OH GOD, CAN HE PACK ANY MORE BITTERNESS AND VENOM INTO THAT NAME??

wwx stands immediately when he hears jc call, he doesn't look at him tho

lwj stands a beat after as jc enters the shrine

jc: you still take yourself as one of the jiang clan? come and go at any time you like, then bring people here when you wish. Do you remember whose house this is? who's the owner?

YIKES

THAT ONE HURT.

and wwx just takes it

wwx: i didnt take hanguang jun to any confidential places in Lotus Pier. i just brought him here to offer some incense to clan leader jiang and madam yu.

he's so submissive here and not even in a fun way

it’s in his posture and tone of voice, even in how he still doesn't look directly at jc...it makes me sad

wwx: we're leaving

He tries to retreat bc he def doesn't want this this confrontation to happen 

jc: you really should kneel down to them, for coming to their presence to destroy the view and ruin their quiet.

DOUBLE YIKES. 

that one hurt EVEN MORE

and lwj, who had been following wwx's lead and staying quiet, intervenes

lwj: clan leader jiang, pay attention to your words

oh boy if looks could kill, jc would be dead as a doornail

he's like HURT MY SOULMATE AGAIN, I DARE YOU. JUST GIVE ME A REASON AND I WILL STRIKE YOU DOWN

which is pretty gutsy since jc is higher ranked than him, technically, as clan leader. 

AND they're both in jc's domain rn!

jc: what did you say? i think someone else needs to watch his behavior

he's glaring at wwx's back and he's got a mean twist to his mouth that would be a smile if it weren't so cruel

jc: you have already been kicked out of our family. how dare you enter and face my parents and my sister?

STOP HURTING MY SUNSHINE BOY

wwx is just accepting this. he's just accepting all these cruel things with his eyes downcast and submissive

BC IT HURTS AND HE BELIEVES HE DESERVES IT

lwj: jiang wanyin

HOLY SHIT

lwj fucking HISSED that name

and he took a VERY MENACING step towards jc

MY GUY

MY GUY, YOU CAN'T ATTACK A CLAN LEADER

ESPECIALLY NOT IN HIS OWN HOME

LIKE, I TOTALLY GET WHY YOU'D WANT TO RN, AND, Y'KNOW, I'M NOT THE MOST POLITICALLY SAVVY PERSON AROUND

BUT THIS JUST SEEMS LIKE A BAD IDEA ALL AROUND

thank god wwx is there

wwx stops him, pressing the palm of his hand into lwj's torso (!!!!!)

wwx: lan zhan. lan zhan, let's go

he practically whispers this, head bent down, AGAIN SUPER SUBSERVIENT

but jc is looking for a fight and he's not letting go until he gets one, apparently

jc: go as far as you can. i don't want to see you AWFUL PEOPLE again before my dead family

wwx just halts in his steps.

he had been all prepared to go after taking that tongue lashing that he thinks he's earned, but at that he takes a deep, fortifying breath bc jc crossed a line

he purses his lips a moment before turning to finally face jc head on

wwx: jc, scold me as you like but not the others (aka LWJ)

oooh, but that was the wrong thing to say to jc right now bc jc goes off on a VERY PAINFUL rant

he's like, oh, i should be nice to lwj? don't you remember that MY PARENTS WERE KILLED AND LOTUS PIER FELL bc you just HAD to play hero and save lwj?? and it wasn't enough! you HAD to play hero and SAVE THE WENS too, which killed my sister!!

oh he's getting really mean here

he's like, how generous you are wwx! letting wn wander the entrance of lotus pier and letting lwj offer incense!!

the minute jc started his rant, wwx cast his eyes to the side, again just enduring everything jc is throwing at him

oh but now jc starts in on lwj again

he's like, lwj, the great second jade, ignoring his reputation to side with wwx, your brother and uncle must be so proud

wwx: JIANG WANYIN!

wwx shouts at him

he's shaky and almost panting here.

wwx: apologize this instant.

jc: apologize? why should i? bc i insulted your great friendship?

THIS WHOLE ENCOUNTER IS A SHIT SHOW AND IT HURTS.

wwx just loses it here and grabs jc by the collar of his robes and gives him a shake

wwx: ARE YOU DONE?

and jc is still the little brother, you know, so obvs he does not back down here, he's not intimidated at all

jc: LET'S FIGHT THEN. should i be afraid of you two?

wwx's breath is all shaky and he's trembling and he would've given into jc's demands for a fight anyway but then he sees jyl's nameplate

and he must remember how upset jyl would get every time they fought

ME TOO, JYL, ME TOO. I HATE THIS, I HATE THIS, MAKE IT STOP

so he lets go of jc and stumbles back. he's looking very weak right now AND I’M VERY CONCERNED

lwj, obvs, catches him by the arm when he stumbles

lwj: wei ying

wwx: lan zhan, let's go

lwj agrees and the two of them turn and leave the shrine, lwj still gripping wwx's arm and providing support bc wwx is NOT looking good what’s happening to my sunshine boy, somebody fix this RIGHT NOW

BUT JC IS LIKE A DOG WITH A BONE BC HE JUST STORMS AFTER THEM, HE WANTS HIS FIGHT

he freaking leaps across the little lotus pond and lands before them, blocking off their exit

he starts antagonizing wwx, and he grabs wwx by the collar now, and again, wwx just takes it BUT LWJ DOESN'T

lwj slams his hand around jc's wrist (the one that's grabbing wwx), WRAPPING HIS FINGERS AROUND JC'S ZIDIAN, EVEN

lwj: let him go

holy crap. Stone Cold. LWJ'S STARE IS STONE COLD, AND HE TIGHTENS HIS GRIP ON JC'S WRIST

god damn, if lwj ever looked at me like that, i'd drop to the ground and beg for forgiveness. i'd be scared witless

when jc makes no move to let go of wwx, lwj releases his wrist and hooks his arm under jc's forearm and shoves upward to FINALLY break jc's hold on wwx

wwx stumbles at the force of it and his nose starts to bleed

MY POOR PRECIOUS SUNSHINE BOY LOOKS SO WEAK AND OUT OF IT!!

lwj looks at him, eyes wide with worry

lwj: wei ying!

even jc looks concerned (i would even say scared, tbh)

wwx reaches up and wipes his nose; he's not steady on his feet AT ALL

wwx: lan zhan, let's go.

lwj: okay

and he immediately starts to leave, practically dragging wwx with him bc wwx is barely able to stand at this point

lol, lwj shoulder checks jc as they walk past him

but jc is a stubborn bastard and brings out zidian and whips at their retreating backs

brief moment here to admire how FREAKING COOL THE ZIDIAN IS OMG,  

*GRABBY HANDS* I WANT ONE OF MY OWN SO SO BAD. 

IT'S A SNAKE BRACELET!! 

THAT TURNS INTO A WHIP!! 

A PURPLE WHIP!!! OF LIGHTNING!!!!!! 

LITERALLY NO ASPECT OF THIS WEAPON IS UN-BADASS

so jc whips purple lightning at them but the hit never lands bc lwj swings his still-sheathed bichen and bats that attack away like nothing

but as he does that, wwx starts to fall

lwj spins around and AUDIBLY GASPS, eyes wide with worry again, as he watches wwx lose consciousness. 

he dives forward and catches his soulmate in his arms and cradles him gently

jc doesn't see this happen and swings right back with another lash but wn swoops in out of nowhere to take the hit instead. 

AND HERE WE'RE GONNA GET THE BIG REVEAL OH GOD I'M NOT READY

jc is all who let you in, how dare you?? and whips wn again

BUT WN WILL NOT STAY DOWN, NO SIR

HE'S GOT STUFF TO SAY AND BY GOD, HE'S GONNA SAY IT

he offers up suibian to jc but jc whips him and sends him flying again

Wn gets right back up goes back to offering the sword to jc, DEMANDING HE UNSHEATHE IT

AND IN A FIT OF FURY JC PULLS AT THE HANDLE AND SUIBIAN COMES FREE

SHOCK, UTTER SHOCK ON HIS AND LWJ'S FACES

(also YIKES jc nearly sliced out wn's eyes with the force of his unsheathing of siubian. he obvs didn't expect anything to come of him pulling at the handle)

GOLDEN CORE TRANSFER REVEAL!!

FLASHBACK to wn's part of the story

we see wn holding an unconscious jc and wq is telling wwx to come out from where he was hiding behind a convenient boulder

and we see wwx give the go ahead to start the golden core transfer

back to the present, jc looks like his whole world is a lie 

bc it kinda is

I'm still kinda mad that wwx never told him anything.

like, i get why he didn't and i sympathize but informed consent in medicine and surgery is kind of a big deal!

and then omg, we got a close up shot of lwj's face

his eyes are wide and shiny and his jaw is dropped open just a bit. HE IS SHAKEN TO THE CORE 

HAHAHA GET IT? THAT THING WWX DOESN’T HAVE ANYMORE?? Oh god i’m sorry that was AWFUL

he turns his gaze back to wwx, who is still resting gently in crook of his arm

i love the camera angle here btw

the scene is at a slant, with the white of bichen's handle, and the white of the flowering tree behind them filling all of the right side of the screen

it makes the dark bundle of wwx and the dark flow of lwj's hair more stark

the slant of it really emphasizes how the whole of lwj's attention is on the man in his arms

And how his whole world is off its axis at this revelation

god lwj is really just letting his whole heart pour out of his eyes as he watches wwx

jc and wn are arguing loudly in the background but lwj makes NO INDICATION of hearing ANY of it

now we get to watch the emotional confrontation between jc and wn

lwj finally looks back at them when wn starts reciting details that no one outside of jc would have known unless they were there themselves

another flashback as wn describes everything in excruciating detail

oh this line gets me every time

wn: the reason you thought it was repaired was because of my sister, the best doctor in the wen clan of qishan, Wen Qing

WN LOVES HIS SISTER SO MUCH. HE WAS SO PROUD OF HER 

AND HE LOST HER. HE DOESN'T HAVE HER ANYMORE

GOD DAMN IT, SHOW, LET THESE BOYS KEEP THEIR SISTERS

and now we go back to lwj, gazing soulfully at wwx and a single tear rolls down his cheek as it really hits him what exactly wwx did, what wwx gave up

wn is going off on jc, like, didn't he ever wonder why wwx never picked up the sword again?

wn looks hardcore here tbh. 

we cut back to lwj, who is now holding bichen tightly, and boy, he's got his jaw clenched so hard.

at least until he looks back down at wwx, and his mouth softens as more tears drip down his face

flashback to when jc first found wwx after the burial mounds, and a series of flashbacks of every time jc brought up wwx's lack of suibian and wwx brushing off his questions

THEY SHOULD'VE JUST TALKED IT OUT, MY GOD, THEY COULD’VE SPARED ME ALL THIS PAIN IF THEY JUST TALKED 

another flashback to that time that jc pushed wwx and wwx fell hard to the ground and jc thought he was just drunk

I AM DONE WITH THESE FLASHBACKS, THX. CAN WE NOT, ANYMORE? IT'S HURTING TOO MUCH

and we also keep getting shots of lwj's face, STREAKED WITH TEARS

HE'S GOT A TEARDROP ON THE TIP OF HIS NOSE

ALL OF THIS IS PAINFUL

PLEASE STOP

oooh, lwj's mouth twists into a firm scowl and he slams bichen on the ground with a loud CLANG

this is too much for him too! he's furious, he's had enough of hearing how wwx suffered for jc

so he scoops up wwx, carrying almost all of his weight, as he walks the both of them outta there

wn leaves suibian with jc and tells him to have anyone else try to unsheathe it if he doesn't believe him

jc doesn't want it. he doesn't want it at all.

he desperately wants it to be untrue

AND I CRY A RIVER FOR MY YUNMENG BROS

WE'RE ON A BOAT NOW

UNCONSCIOUS WWX SPREAD BACK, HELD LOVINGLY IN LWJ'S ARMS

Now we get some lwj & wn bonding time where they discuss a-yuan! (after lwj promises not to tattle on wn to wwx)

AHHHHHHHHHHHH!! WE'RE GETTING A FLASHBACK FROM LWJ

LWJ IS ENTERING WWX'S LAB CAVE THING, ALONE, FRANTICALLY SEARCHING FOR WWX

lwj: on that day, when the wen clan were captured and killed, i went to the burial mounds to seek wei ying but discovered a-yuan instead

we see him find a-yuan, who is unconscious and clammy. 

lwj immediately drops to his knees beside him and checks his wrist, then presses the back of his hand to a-yuan's forehead

oh, lwj's hand is all roughened with dirt. That’s very striking, for some reason.

he purses his lips making a split-second decision, and scoops a-yuan up 

lwj: he was hiding there for so long that he had a fever and was severely ill

wn figures out that the fever is probs why lsz doesn't remember anything, and hasn’t mentioned wn at all. lwj looks surprised

lwj: didn't you tell him?

wn: about his birth origin? he's happy now. knowing too much about the past and remembering something heavy, would make him less happy than now

HE'S SUCH A GOOD PERSON

WHY DO THE BEST OF THEM HAVE TO SUFFER SO?

lwj: sooner or later, he will know

and wn doesn't deny it. he's like, yeah, sooner or later. just like master wei and jc with the golden core transfer.

at this lwj looks back down at wwx

lwj: is it painful?

the way lwj's throat bobs before he asks tho.

like he's forcing himself to ask, bc he needs to know even if he already suspects the answer. 

He needs to know even tho knowing will hurt. he's steeling himself against the pain already.

wn: what?

lwj: taking out the core, is it painful?

wn: you won't believe me if i say it's not, right?

lwj: i thought wq might have some method

he sounds desperate, hoping against all odds that it didn't hurt wwx as much as he suspects it did

and here wn explains that wq wanted to ease the process, make it less painful, but due to the nature of the procedure, she couldn't use any anesthetics

wn: the one who donates the core has to be awake the whole time

THE WHOLE DAMN TIME

HE HAS TO BE CONSCIOUS TO WATCH IT GET CUT OUT OF HIM AND EXPERIENCE THAT CONNECTION SLOWLY BE SEVERED OTHERWISE IT DOESN'T WORK

HOW MESSED UP IS THAT OMG, HOW MUCH TRAUMA MUST THEY PUT MY POOR SUNSHINE BOY THROUGH

lwj: awake?

HE SOUNDS HOARSE AS HE SAYS THAT

wn: two nights and one day. he has to be awake

MY SUNSHINE BOY, MY BEAUTIFUL SUNSHINE BOY SUFFERED SO MUCH

lwj's lips purse briefly. he's staring at his wei ying

lwj: at the time, what were the chances

wn: fifty percent

lwj looks at wn here with horrified disbelief

lwj: fifty percent?

wn proceeds to explain how wq didn't want to do it but wwx kept insisting that the odds were worth 

AND OH MY GOD LWJ FLASHES BACK TO THEIR FIRST CONFRONTATION AFTER THE BURIAL MOUNDS, WHEN THEY FINALLY FOUND WWX AFTER 3 MONTHS OF SEARCHING

IT HURTS JUST AS MUCH AS THE FIRST TIME AROUND

Wwx must have some sort of sixth sense for knowing when Emotional Discussions are Done, bc he regains consciousness only AFTER wn & lwj finish bonding lol

he sits up, head aching, and pulls himself from lwj's embrace

I DON'T UNDERSTAND WHY, BC LWJ OBVS DIDN'T MIND HAVING HIM THAT CLOSE

IN FACT even as he helps wwx sit up, you can see his hand trail up wwx's arm, grip loosening and tightening sporadically

He's def trying to prolong contact here, very reluctant to let go of his wei ying

wwx: lan zhan, how did we get out?

lwj: we had a fight

AND ~THEIR SONG~ STARTS PLAYING

wwx: i knew that jiang cheng wouldn't let me go that easily. so unreasonable.

and then he looks at lwj and hurries to assure him that jc didn't mean all those cutting remarks. that that's just how he gets when he's upset.

lwj looks off to the side, pressing his lips closed bc he couldn't care less about jc or jc's words. THEY MEAN NOTHING TO HIM

wwx covers lwj's hand with his own and very earnestly says: so don't take it seriously

BC HE HASN'T YET REALIZED THAT LWJ DOESN'T ACTUALLY GIVE A DAMN ABOUT JC'S ENTIRE EXISTENCE

lwj doesn't look him in the eye as he's told this, and his lips are still pressed together in a firm line. 

he probably doesn't actually want wwx to realize just how little jc means to him.

wwx notices they're on a boat on a lake now lol

wwx: i often played here with jyl when we were children

AND HERE HE HALLUCINATES HIS PRECIOUS BEAUTIFUL KIND AMAZING SISTER JYL

Jyl: a-xian come have some lotus seeds

WWX'S EYES REDDEN WITH TEARS AND HE CALLS OUT FOR HIS SISTER

AND I'M FIGHTING BACK SOBS

WHILE JYL'S SWEET GENTLE MUSIC PLAYS AND JYL SMILES WARMLY AT HER LITTLE BROTHER

wn snaps wwx out of it

ONLY FOR WWX TO FLASHBACK TO JYL CRYING AND SAYING THAT THEY'RE THE CLOSEST THREE IN THE WORLD

WWX LEANS HIS HEAD ON HER KNEE AND SULKS ADORABLY ABOUT HOW HE'S HUNGRY 

AND I WANNA DIE FROM ALL THE FEELINGS I'M HAVING

back on the boat, wwx eyes are still filled with tears and it's awful

wn is all, wwx what's wrong? and wwx shakes it off and just says he's hungry

so he yanks out some lotus pods from the lake and gives one to lwj and one to wn and one for himself

HE'S SMILING NOW, THANK GOD

wwx: it's perfect timing to be here now!

and he's happily tearing into the pod

I LOVE SEEING HIM HAPPY AND SMILING

SUCH LITTLE JOYS AND HE REVELS IN IT

I LOVE HIM SO MUCH

HE SHOULD ALWAYS BE HAPPY AND SMILING. 

NOTHING SHOULD EVER BE ALLOWED TO MAKE HIM SAD. NOTHING

lwj: wei ying

wwx: what

lwj: does this lake belong to someone?

LOL, HE GAVE THE POD A SUSPICIOUS LOOK BEFORE ASKING THAT AND HAS NOT TRIED GETTING ANY SEEDS OUT YET

wwx: of course not

HE SAYS IN A COMPLETELY NOT BELIEVABLE WAY

YOU CAN TELL BY HOW HE DOESN'T LOOK LWJ IN THE EYE AS HE RESPONDED AND KEEPS MUNCHING AWAY ON THE SEEDS AS A DISTRACTION

Lwj is watching like, yeah, i’m not buying it.

lwj: i heard that lakes here all have owners.

lolol wwx pauses in his chewing for a second and looks around guiltily for a bit before letting out a nervous laugh

wwx: hanguang jun, you really hear much, don't you? i didn't even know that.

he's looking at him all innocently and LWJ LOOKS BACK STILL NOT BUYING IT LOLOLOL

wwx looks away and then looks back, relenting

wwx: fine. 

HE'S ALL POUTY, IT'S ADORABLE, I LOVE HIM

he sulkily tells wn to get them moving

and sulkily tosses his lotus pod at the bottom of the boat

HE'S JUST HAVING A SULK-FEST RN AND IT'S SUPER CUTE, I'M ENJOYING IT A LOT

wn starts to get the paddles to get the boat going, when lwj suddenly leans over the side of the boat and snaps up a lotus pod

he very seriously offers it to his wei ying, who is watching him wide-eyed and surprised

lwj: only for today  

bc i just found out about your traumatic golden core transfer for your awful ungrateful little brother and i feel horrible that you suffered alone, he doesn’t say

bc i wish i could have done something to help but i couldn't so now i'm gonna steal you a lotus pod bc that's literally all i can do right now, he also doesn’t say

LOL

THE WAY THE CAMERA CUTS TO WN HERE CRACKS ME UP

WN IS JUST PASSIVELY MUNCHING ON A SEED AND WATCHING THAT EXCHANGE HAPPEN WITH HIS BIG BROWN EYES TAKING IT IN, WITH A VAGUE, "HUH, THAT'S INTERESTING" MANNER

wwx looks at the pod and then back at lwj before taking the pod with a nervous laugh

I am convinced that he had WAR-FLASHBACKS to that time drunk!lwj gave him roosters

He’s probably frantically trying to remember if lwj drank ANY alcohol earlier

TRYING TO CALCULATE THE CHANCES OF SOMEONE SLIPPING SOME ALCOHOL TO LWJ BETWEEN THEIR FIGHT WITH JC TO THIS BOAT ESCAPE LOLOLOLOL

he clutches that pod with both hands and gives lwj a pained smile 

The exact pained smile he had when he accepted the roosters that time

LMAO WWX TURNS TO LOOK AT WN, HIS BROWS ALL FURROWED IN CONFUSION LIKE, WN WHAT THE HECK IS HAPPENING, EXPLAIN WHAT'S HAPPENING RIGHT NOW

but wn just smiles cheerfully at him

cut to the next moment where we see the boat's floor is now littered with a bunch of lotus pods and wwx is happily munching on seeds, all smiley

BUT OF COURSE I'M NOT ALLOWED TO ENJOY HAPPY PEACEFUL MOMENTS EVER

SO A GLOWY GLITTERY MESSENGER BUTTERFLY APPEARS AND LANDS ON LWJ'S OUTSTRETCHED PALM

I mean, wwx giggled happily there for a moment there!!!!! WHY CAN'T THEY LET ME BASK IN THAT FOR ONE MINUTE, GOD.

anyway, the butterfly

wwx: the paper butterfly messenger from the jin clan?

(side note to say that the butterfly messenger is actually very pretty. i like it a lot)

wwx pats lwj on the knee after the butterfly flies away

wwx: what happened? what did it say?

Lwj’s like, jgy is in yunmeng now and my brother hasn’t responded to my message...

wwx: you worry jgy would harm him when desperate?

bc wwx can tell right away when lwj is worried. BC THEY'RE SOULMATES AND THEY KNOW EACH OTHER SO WELL

And then bc my sunshine boy is a GENIUS, he remembers the deed jgy had hidden away in the secret chamber, for Yunping City in Yunmeng

he excitedly tells lwj that this is where jgy will be

lol he was so excited he tipped himself over a bit and jostled the boat so lwj had to reach out to steady him

we cut to the next scene we see people dying fabrics and our boys wander through 

Wwx confirms with some random worker lady that they’re in the right place and tells lwj they should explore the city as a date for Plot Investigation Reasons

lwj nods in agreement and then wwx turns back to look at the lady and gives her THE SWEETEST SMILE, THE ONE THAT SQUINCHES HIS EYES CLOSED AND MAKES ME SWOON

BUT LOL LWJ SEES HIM SMILE AT THE LADY LIKE THAT AND IT NOT AMUSED BY IT AT ALL

oh god, just the way his eyes flick from wwx to the lady and how his lips firm up before he stalks off in a snit cracks me up

GREEN IS NOT YOUR COLOR, LAN ZHAN, I'M JUST SAYING

LET THE GUY SMILE AT ME, I MEAN AT PEOPLE. IT'S NOT A CRIME

wwx is confused by the reaction but hurries off after him

oh wwx, you dense idiot. you're lucky i love you so

now we see come random guys bully wn for no reason 😞

wwx tells them to back off but they don't listen and lwj very nonchalantly pulls out a talisman from his sleeve and offers it to wwx

wwx looks at the talisman and then back at lwj with SUCH A PLEASED SMILE

OMG I WOULD DO JUST ABOUT ANYTHING FOR HIM TO SMILE AT ME LIKE THAT

wwx: lan zhan, you even kept it until now?

AHHHHHH SO CUTE, I LOVE HIM

lwj doesn't respond but it doesn’t matter bc wwx does that squinchy-eyed smile AGAIN AND I DIE, I DIE

wwx activates the talisman which releases a whole bunch of glittery butterflies that distract the guys and allow wn to escape. 

omg guys, this is the same trick lwj used to distract wen chao and wen zhuliu to escape ages and ages ago WHICH MEANS LWJ HAS BEEN CARRYING A PIECE OF WWX WITH HIM ALL THESE YEARS AHHHHHHHHH

And after that wonderful, touching revelation, the episode ends.

SO, we had lots of depressing Yunmeng Bros Feelings that made me wanna die 

BUT we also at the end here get rewarded with MULTIPLE squinchy-eyed smiles from my most precious darling sunshine boy that made me wanna die but, like, in a good way

I WOULD ENDURE SO MUCH MORE FOR THOSE SMILE, NGL

Return to Masterpost

[summoner-kentauris]

What does your interpretation of Zacharias think about Líf and Thrasir? (You can either just answer or write a lil story if you feel like it)

OOOO now i have thought in my free time a fair amount about what líf thinks of zasha but, and i cannot believe this, i have not thought about what zacharias thinks about líf and thrasir. full disclosure, book III happened to be going on when i formally stopped playing feh. i kept up with the story after that but, theres my obligatory knowledge base disclaimer.

also minor cws through this whole thing because i talk here and there about zacharias and his... mm, canonical relationship to death/selfharm

-

so, i spent a lot of time thinking about this one, and i keep coming back to my gut reaction, which is that i don't think zacharias would like them very much. i dont know why i think that, though.

PART ONE

i think a lot of it would depend on how they approach him, which is maybe why i've spent more time thinking about the reverse of this ask, come to think of it. see, i think zacharias could go any which way in terms of what he thinks of them. i think he could hate them, as two people who killed versions of everyone he ever loved, including metaphorically killing off the two people closest to him.

i think he could love him, having seen the hell (ha ha literally) that they went through. understanding what that feels like. given the way he talks about his suicide attempts, and honestly that he spent most of book I trying to get people to kill him, really his whole relationship to death. i mean the man talks a lot about death and killing. he might not be the feh OC who best understands how manipulative and... whats a good word. alluring? what im trying to say is that besides eir, he might be the one most likely to understand why Hel and hel's offer appealed to líf and thrasir. i feel like this bit has a place here: "With his dying breath...he begged for his life. He called out your names! "I'll do anything you ask! Just let me live!" excepting of course that i still am not sure if i think he said/thought that or not. ive never been sure who really is in control of speaking right then and there. Anyway. Probably he could come to understand Líf and Thrasir's stance, enough that he could care about them the same ways he cares about his versions of Alfonse ann Veronica

on the other hand, i can see him being fully horrified by the choices those two made in response. this bit: Not anyone... This dark god...seeks death. And it cries for the destruction of Askr. Like. Líf and Thrasir are intentionally enacting the same thing as the dark god's desires, in order to correct a mistake they made that, uh, also enacted the same thing as dark god's desires. talk about awkward. and i think Zasha, who has lived with this nightmare in his head for so long, might recoil from people who are so directly aligned with it. who wants to be around someone who has become, who has chosen to become, everything you ever feared you'd be? especially when you're nearly drowning from the effort of fighting to stop yourself.

i could also see him meeting them and it being incredibly, incredibly bad for him. i feel like, he puts a whole lot of... mm. what am i trying to say.here:

Yet it is you that says this, dear friend, and so I must consider it. I see the faith reflected in your eyes. Perhaps it is possible...

SPEAKING OF BUNNY ZACHARIAS I ALSO THINK YOU COULD TAKE THE FOLLOWING:

You never change. All you see is a lofty goal, even if you lack the means to achieve it... The idea that gods would fall by the hand of man is a fantasy... and a preposterous one. This is a goal that even our ancestors Líf and Thrasir could not achieve.

setting aside the obligatory wtf zash i know you know your lore (fuck, maybe there is no killing the gods, maybe all Fire Emblem victories are temporary at best and Zenith is the only one who knows it. but i think, probably not), i think you could spin a very believable scenario where zacharias takes one look at these two ambitious, arrogant posers and absolutely refuses to speak to them any further.

so, part one, i think that zacharias could think any number of things about líf and thrasir. which i suppose means that i think he's fairly neutral on the subject of líf and thrasir. makes sense to me, i suppose. i feel like zacharias | bruno has practice (regardless of whether he's any good at it or not, or whether its any good for him) at holding and maintaining separate personas, so I don't think the fact that líf and thrasir were alfonse and veronica would necessarily be all that important to him.

which brings me to part ii

what happened to dead zenith zacharias

if zacharias is neutral on the subject, I think a lot of their relationship is going to pushed in one direction or another by líf and thrasir themselves.

and, complicating matters (when do I make things simple?), i think their approach to zacharias would of course depend on what happened to their zacharias. correct me if im wrong, but i dont think we have even a hint what happened to him.

there are three ish options I'm seeing. one: as dead world zenith is further along in its timeline and as zacharias claims he's almost out of time with his curse, other zacharias died due to that before the war with hel. i feel like scenario one is the most likely to lead to a good relationship between main zacharias and líf and thrasir.

two: mr. professional "knows plot relevant things out of knowhere" was the one who found out about angrboða's heart in the first place. especially given "As destruction took hold, we joined with Embla to seek the forbidden heart...", which to me sounds a lot like, "hel was kicking our ass then zacharias showed up and said we should go get this mystical plot object from embla". thrasir even says she and líf weren't allies before the world went to shit. anyway. hear me out here:

Yes. The heart is sealed within an Emblian blood temple. If that seal is broken, someone will die each time the heart beats... Those who perform the rite are the first to die.

Now. Líf claims he was the one who broke it open, but he also was present for the war that followed and only after was he killed and inducted into hel's army. so. both of those things can't be true. i propose that the magic mcguffin located in a sealed emblian blood temple was unlocked by our dear zacharias and thats what killed him in other zenith. i think its possible that other veronica was the one who did it, but you know. its all imagination at this point. also, and i forgot this, but thrasir does go off about how she can't lose until she saves her brother, so. something especially tragic happened at least. and oh boy is scenario two a nice fresh tasty tragedy. so that's scenario two. other zacharias directly died as a result of attempts to fight hel

number three thing that could have happened to zach is boring. he's always off doing things, he could have just died off screen. i mean. everyone did, eventually.

frankly he could still be alive for all i know. the heart appears to take the lives of people in the world, not of the world, or else the summoner would have been fine. so, if zacharias was on one of his off world jaunts, he could conceivably be a-okay. well. as okay as someone who's whole world died. i don't think that's what happened, because thrasir is pretty clear about feeling that she failed him, but yknow.

líf and thrasir's reactions to the above

thrasir is i think the most straightforward. i can't really see her approaching main zacharias with anything but positive intent. even if she's only a little bit open, i think thrasir and zacharias will probably have a decently tolerable relationship. if zacharias can come back to a country that exiled him as a kid and let his mother die in a dungeon and then go on to not just befriend but protect and care for a half sister he didnt know before then, then i think he'll find a way to care about thrasir. you know, intsys could have had fun making another perpetual older brother character. as i understand it, xander gets brother'd a lot, he and zach could have talked. could have been fun. a whole, zacharias, a historically traumatized child: *arrives in a world* every currently traumatized kid in a five mile radius: oh shit this one's ours now. you know what im saying? found family except zacharias would very much like it to stop finding him. he's got important brooding to do. but anway, they didn't go that route and its a tragedy.

líf is... more complicated. i think scenario one creates the most positive outlook. i can see him still having guilt over zacharias' loss, but i think any of it would be overshadowed by everything else that happened. in this scenario, líf finally gets back a piece of the world he'd lost. yeah, it's not his zacharias, but still. it is a zacharias, who is living and breathing and frowning and asking why you are staring at me, knight. i think the two of them could get along rather well, although i see them having significant issues with pessimism. inch-restingly enough... the dark curse bades its hosts to kill askrans. and líf is, well. dead. so... perhaps... perhaps líf wouldn't trigger the curse like alfonse does. in that case, not only does líf get someone back he thought he'd never see again, but so does zacharias.

scenario two is just a nightmare. frankly, i initially thought this scenario would lead to líf just ignoring zacharias (out of guilt, pain, etc), but i was rereading the scripts looking for the spelling of angrboða and this came up:

Tell Hel. She'll erase those memories. She'll erase them all...

so, honestly? i think that in scenario two líf just straight up gets hel to remove his memories of zacharias (as an aside maybe this is also why he never ever ever talks about other anna >:{ )

in that case, líf wouldn't really have any reason to talk to this man, who causes this empty deeply sad feeling to well up in him for now discernible reason. and zacharias has no reason (or time) to talk to this standoffish general of the dead. so. that's a real ships in the night moment.

number three i think líf would still hold the same guilt as in number two, but i don't think it would be as horrifically tragic, so i think it's more likely he'd be willing to approach zacharias. he does appear to have even worse of a thing than alfonse about not opening oneself up to people, but i think that even if he's líf, he once was an alfonse, and being that this is me answering this, i don't think any alfonse can really keep away from a zacharias for very long. its a version of the person who once knew him as well as any other person in the world. like líf can't really seem to stop himself from associating with main sharena, i don't think he could stop himself from reaching out in his own way to main zacharias. and god does that man need some more friends. i think zacharias would probably be a little frightened of líf, and of what an alfonse could become. but i think probably... i feel like a lot of book i issues stem from the fact that, justified or not, zacharias thinks alfonse would risk anything, any harm to save him. i don't know that confronting an alfonse who literally risked everything and did all harm to save his world would be a comfort, but i do think zacharias would get a lot out of having someone who's already done the worst they can do. been there, done that, got the tshirt. i think zacharias would be a little afraid of what an alfonse could become, but i think he would no longer have to be afraid of... no, anxious about it. i think there's a kind of calm in having something confirmed that zacharias could appreciate. healthy? unhealthy? fuck if i know. i also think that in líf, zacharias has a friend who he can't physically hurt anymore. lífs already dead. been there done there got the.... glowing gel torso. i think, curse nonewithstanding, zacharias will always have some degree of tension and fear about hurting people he's in a relationship with, be that because of his issues with abandonment, of abandoning, of harm, etc. but you know. líf's kind of a rock. and he's already hit his rock bottom, now that i'm thinking about rocks. i think that kind of steady, placid deathness could really help zacharias. and i think he would find it soothing, whether or not he knew why.

plus he will be able to know that if the curse gets him, if he dies... he'll still have a friend in the realm of the dead. he doesnt have to be so afraid of leaving and getting left

so there we go! lots of musings. i have been thinkin about why my headcanons are less that and more elaborate branching theories, and i think it is because i would change my opinion depending on which story i wanted to tell or hear or see.so yeah. dunno which one of these answers belongs to the question, what does your interpretation of Zacharias think about Líf and Thrasir?, but hopefully at least one of them is interesting to read about!

OH also. i think he would be petty-ly annoyed about them cribing líf and thrasir's name. like full on scholar petty. probably showed up to the order in a nerdy huff excited to meet the actual factual líf and thrasir and turns out its just those two, sitting around glowing and reciting death metal lyrics like they're spoken word ballads. dont think he'd get over that ever.

[aboveallarescuer]

Dany asserting her identity, titles and achievements (to others or herself) and/or moments of pride in general

As I was rereading ASOIAF, I made it my goal to compile all* the book passages demonstrating either certain key attributes of Daenerys Targaryen (e.g. that she's compassionate and smart) or aspects of hers that are usually overstated (e.g. that she's ambitious and prophecy-driven).  Doing such a task may seem exaggerated, but I'd argue it's not, for many, many misconceptions about Dany have become widespread in light of the show's final season's events (and even before).

It must be acknowledged that it can be tricky to reference, say, ADWD passages to counter-argument how she was depicted in season eight (which allegedly follows ADOS events). Dany will have had plenty of character development in the span of two books. However, whatever happens to Dany in the next two books, I would argue that there is more than enough material to conclude that her show counterpart was made to fall for flaws that she (for the most part) never had and actions that she (for the most part) would never take. (and that's not even considering the double standards and the contradictions with what had been shown from show!Dany up until then, but that's obviously out of the scope of these lists)

Another objection to the purpose of these lists is that Game of Thrones is different from A Song of Ice and Fire and should be analyzed on its own, which is a fair point. However, the show is also an adaptation of these books, which begs the questions: why did they change Dany's character? Why did they overfocus on negative traits of hers or depicted them as negative when they weren't supposed to be or gave her negative traits that were never hers to begin with? Another fact that undermines the show=/=books argument is that most people think that the show's ending will be the books', albeit only in broad strokes and in different circumstances. As a result, people's perception of Dany is inevitably influenced by the show, which is a shame.

I hope these lists can be useful for whoever wants to find book passages to defend (or even simply explore different facets of) Dany's character in metas or conversations.

*Well, at least all the passages that I could find in her chapters, which is no guarantee that the effort was perfectly executed, but I did my best.

Also, people could interpret certain passages differently and then come up with a different collection of passages if they ever attempted to make one, so I'm not saying that this list is completely objective (nor that there could ever be one).

Also, some passages have been cut short according to whether they were, IMO, relevant to the specific topic of the list they're in, so the context surrounding them may not always be clear (always read the books and use asearchoficeandfire). Many of them appear in different lists, sometimes fully referenced, sometimes not.

I listed the passages back to front because I felt doing so highlighted Dany's evolution better.

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

To justify the existence of this list, let's see examples of widespread opinions that I feel misrepresent Daenerys Targaryen:

Demanding respect simply because she is the “rightful heir” to the Iron Throne is in her Signature Moves list right up there with Yelling and Burning. As Machiavelli might say: “she trippin". A ruler only gets real power through taking and earning and keeping it, not through inheritance. (Wisecrack)

~

But even Daenerys’ sense of altruism has diminished considerably of late, and she’s been relying on her reputation rather than a desire to inspire love and loyalty. Tywin once told Joffrey that any man who must say “I am the king” is no true king. Meanwhile, Daenerys’ first course of action is always to intimidate with her endless list of titles, even when they can’t possibly help her, as when she’s brought before Khal Moro in “The Red Woman.” (x)

~

Her arc is honest and real and logical. It is a coherent response to her given circumstances and follows her narrative thread coupled with her inherent lust for her own destiny. It both pushes against her gender and is inherently shaped by how others have treated her due to her gender. It is both a result of her victimization and in spite of her trials. She is self-absorbed and self-servicing, and the human tension between ego and selflessness is a huge fulcrum for the story thematically across the board. (x)

~

But the character has been obsessed with the Iron Throne, right from her youth. While, time and again, she has admitted that her father was a homicidal maniac, but that has never discouraged her from leaving her claim to the throne. (x)

~

We are supposed to forget that she is fighting for nothing more than her own sense of entitlement to the throne, like some upper-class brat who loses her family’s fortune and eventually manages to become CEO of her own corporation. (x)

I would argue that her assertion of her titles does not stem from "sense of entitlement to the throne" or from being "self-absorbed" and "self-servicing" or simply for the sake of "intimidating". 

She asserts them when she needs to show other people why she deserves respect (which is, of course, all the more necessary for the sake of her gender) like in ASOS Dany IV; 

She asserts them when she needs to control her fear or emotional pain (AGOT Dany II, ASOS Dany III, ADWD Dany I);

She asserts them to motivate herself (ADWD Dany X); 

She asserts them to take responsibility for carrying them in the first place (ADWD Dany V, ADWD Dany VI, ADWD Dany VIII); 

She even acknowledges their potential negative side (ADWD Dany II, ADWD Dany VIII). 

And let's not forget that, in ADWD Dany IV, when the Green Grace argues for a Dany-Hizdahr marriage by mentioning some of their ancestors, Dany replies that "His forebears are as dead as mine. Will Hizdahr raise their shades to defend Meereen against its enemies? I need a man with ships and swords. You offer me ancestors." 

And these are only examples off the top of my head. My point is that her relationship with power is complex.

IMO, claims like the ones I've linked to certainly cannot be made after reading the books (some can't even after watching the show's first 71 episodes, but the show can be all over the place and ... I digress), so take a look at these passages.

A Dance with Dragons

ADWD Daenerys X

The sun grew hotter as it rose, and before long her head was pounding. Dany’s hair was growing out again, but slowly. “I need a hat,” she said aloud. Up on Dragonstone she had tried to make one for herself, weaving stalks of grass together as she had seen Dothraki women do during her time with Drogo, but either she was using the wrong sort of grass or she simply lacked the necessary skill. Her hats all fell to pieces in her hands. Try again, she told herself. You will do better the next time. You are the blood of the dragon, you can make a hat. She tried and tried, but her last attempt had been no more successful than her first.

~

No, Dany told herself. If I look back I am lost. She might live for years amongst the sunbaked rocks of Dragonstone, riding Drogon by day and gnawing at his leavings every evenfall as the great grass sea turned from gold to orange, but that was not the life she had been born to.

~

Am I dying? Then she saw the pale crescent moon, floating high above the grass, and it came to her that this was no more than her moon blood.

If she had not been so sick and scared, that might have come as a relief. Instead she began to shiver violently. She rubbed her fingers through the dirt, and grabbed a handful of grass to wipe between her legs. The dragon does not weep. She was bleeding, but it was only woman’s blood. The moon is still a crescent, though. How can that be? She tried to remember the last time she had bled. The last full moon? The one before? The one before that? No, it cannot have been so long as that. “I am the blood of the dragon,” she told the grass, aloud.

~

“...I am only a young girl.”

No. You are the blood of the dragon. The whispering was growing fainter, as if Ser Jorah were falling farther behind. Dragons plant no trees. Remember that. Remember who you are, what you were made to be. Remember your words.

“Fire and Blood,” Daenerys told the swaying grass.

ADWD Daenerys IX

When his mouth opened, she could see bits of broken bone and charred flesh between his black teeth. His eyes were molten. I am looking into hell, but I dare not look away. She had never been so certain of anything. If I run from him, he will burn me and devour me.

[...] He is fire made flesh, she thought, and so am I.

ADWD Daenerys VIII

No queen has clean hands, Dany told herself. She thought of Doreah, of Quaro, of Eroeh … of a little girl she had never met, whose name had been Hazzea. Better a few should die in the pit than thousands at the gates. This is the price of peace, I pay it willingly. If I look back, I am lost.

~

You saw me as defeated, Dany thought, and who am I to say that you were wrong?

“...Never trust a sellsword.”

Or a queen, thought Dany.

~

“The dragon has three heads,” Dany said when they were on the final flight. “My marriage need not be the end of all your hopes. I know why you are here.”

“For you,” said Quentyn, all awkward gallantry.

“No,” said Dany. “For fire and blood.”

~

“They are … they are fearsome creatures.”

“They are dragons, Quentyn.” Dany stood on her toes and kissed him lightly, once on each cheek. “And so am I.”

ADWD Daenerys VII

It was close to sunset before Daario Naharis appeared with his new Stormcrows, the Westerosi who had come over to him from the Windblown. Dany found herself glancing at them as yet another petitioner droned on and on. These are my people. I am their rightful queen.

~

“Come back to bed and kiss me.” No one had ever kissed her like Daario Naharis. “I am your queen, and I command you to fuck me.”

She had meant it playfully[.]

~

“...This match will save our city, you will see.”

“So we pray. I want to plant my olive trees and see them fruit.” Does it matter that Hizdahr’s kisses do not please me? Peace will please me. Am I a queen or just a woman?

ADWD Daenerys VI

“Your Grace should not be here, breathing these black humors.”

“I am the blood of the dragon,” Dany reminded him. “Have you ever seen a dragon with the flux?” Viserys had oft claimed that Targaryens were untroubled by the pestilences that afflicted common men, and so far as she could tell, it was true. She could remember being cold and hungry and afraid, but never sick.

ADWD Daenerys V

“Your Grace could not have known—”

“I am the queen. It was my place to know.”

~

“I may be a young girl innocent of war, but I am not a lamb to walk bleating into the harpy’s den. I still have my Unsullied. I have the Stormcrows and the Second Sons. I have three companies of freedmen.”

~

“What of these Astapori?”

My children. “They are coming here for help. For succor and protection. We cannot turn our backs on them.”

Ser Barristan frowned. “Your Grace, I have known the bloody flux to destroy whole armies when left to spread unchecked. The seneschal is right. We cannot have the Astapori in Meereen.”

Dany looked at him helplessly. It was good that dragons did not cry.

ADWD Daenerys IV

"Most queens have no purpose but to warm some king's bed and pop out sons for him. If that's the sort of queen you mean to be, best marry Hizdahr."

Her anger flashed. "Have you forgotten who I am?"

"No. Have you?"

Viserys would have his head off for that insolence. “I am the blood of the dragon. Do not presume to teach me lessons.” When Dany stood, the lion pelt slipped from her shoulders and tumbled to the ground. “Leave me.”

ADWD Daenerys III

“...A child departed Qarth, as lost as she was lovely. I feared she was sailing to her doom, yet now I find her here enthroned, mistress of an ancient city, surrounded by a mighty host that she raised up out of dreams.”

No, she thought, out of blood and fire.

~

“You have grown suspicious, Daenerys.”

Always. “I have grown wise, Xaro.”

~

“Is that meant to frighten me? I lived in fear for fourteen years, my lord. I woke afraid each morning and went to sleep afraid each night … but my fears were burned away the day I came forth from the fire. Only one thing frightens me now.”

“And what is it that you fear, sweet queen?”

“I am only a foolish young girl.” Dany rose on her toes and kissed his cheek. “But not so foolish as to tell you that.

~

If I were a dragon, I could fly to Westeros, she thought when he was gone. I would have no need of Xaro or his ships.

ADWD Daenerys II

Safe. The word made Dany’s eyes fill up with tears. “I want to keep you safe.” Missandei was only a child. With her, she felt as if she could be a child too. “No one ever kept me safe when I was little. Well, Ser Willem did, but then he died, and Viserys … I want to protect you but … it is so hard. To be strong. I don’t always know what I should do. I must know, though. I am all they have. I am the queen … the … the …”

“… mother,” whispered Missandei.

“Mother to dragons.” Dany shivered.

~

She squeezed the water from her silvery hair. “I am half-sick of riddling. In Qarth I was a beggar, but here I am a queen. I command you—”

~

A shadow. A memory. No one. She was the blood of the dragon, but Ser Barristan had warned her that in that blood there was a taint. Could I be going mad? They had called her father mad, once. “I was praying,” she told the Naathi girl. “It will be light soon. I had best eat something, before court.”

~

“I would give Hazzea back to you if I could,” she told the father, “but some things are beyond the power of even a queen. Her bones shall be laid to rest in the Temple of the Graces, and a hundred candles shall burn day and night in her memory. Come back to me each year upon her nameday, and your other children shall not want … but this tale must never pass your lips again.”

~

Mother of dragons, Daenerys thought. Mother of monsters. What have I unleashed upon the world? A queen I am, but my throne is made of burned bones, and it rests on quicksand. Without dragons, how could she hope to hold Meereen, much less win back Westeros? I am the blood of the dragon, she thought. If they are monsters, so am I.

ADWD Daenerys I

“This one has been told that your servant Stalwart Shield sometimes gave coin to the women of the brothels to lie with him and hold him.”

The blood of the dragon does not weep.

~

Daenerys pushed her hair back. “Find these cowards for me. Find them, so that I might teach the Harpy’s Sons what it means to wake the dragon.”

A Storm of Swords

ASOS Daenerys VI

No one was calling her Daenerys the Conqueror yet, but perhaps they would. Aegon the Conqueror had won Westeros with three dragons, but she had taken Meereen with sewer rats and a wooden cock, in less than a day.

~

Yet the thought of seeing Jorah Mormont again made her feel as if she’d swallowed a spoonful of flies; angry, agitated, sick. She could almost feel them buzzing round her belly. I am the blood of the dragon. I must be strong. I must have fire in my eyes when I face them, not tears.

~

She was Daenerys Stormborn, the Unburnt, khaleesi and queen, Mother of Dragons, slayer of warlocks, breaker of chains, and there was no one in the world that she could trust.

ASOS Daenerys V

Worst of all, they had nailed a slave child up on every milepost along the coast road from Yunkai, nailed them up still living with their entrails hanging out and one arm always outstretched to point the way to Meereen. Leading her van, Daario had given orders for the children to be taken down before Dany had to see them, but she had countermanded him as soon as she was told. “I will see them,” she said. “I will see every one, and count them, and look upon their faces. And I will remember.”

By the time they came to Meereen sitting on the salt coast beside her river, the count stood at one hundred and sixty-three. I will have this city, Dany pledged to herself once more.

~

They watched Oznak zo Pahl dismount his white charger, undo his robes, pull out his manhood, and direct a stream of urine in the general direction of the olive grove where Dany’s gold pavilion stood among the burnt trees. He was still pissing when Daario Naharis rode up, arakh in hand. “Shall I cut that off for you and stuff it down his mouth, Your Grace?” His tooth shone gold amidst the blue of his forked beard.

“It’s his city I want, not his meager manhood.” She was growing angry, however. If I ignore this any longer, my own people will think me weak. [...]

High on the walls of Meereen, the jeers had grown louder, and now hundreds of the defenders were taking their lead from the hero and pissing down through the ramparts to show their contempt for the besiegers. They are pissing on slaves, to show how little they fear us, she thought. They would never dare such a thing if it were a Dothraki khalasar outside their gates.

~

Could I love Daario? What would it mean, if I took him into my bed? Would that make him one of the heads of the dragon? Ser Jorah would be angry, she knew, but he was the one who’d said she had to take two husbands. Perhaps I should marry them both and be done with it.

But these were foolish thoughts. She had a city to take, and dreaming of kisses and some sellsword’s bright blue eyes would not help her breach the walls of Meereen. I am the blood of the dragon, Dany reminded herself. Her thoughts were spinning in circles, like a rat chasing its tail.

~

When the horses had been saddled, Dany and her companions set out along the shoreline, away from the city. Even so, she could feel Meereen at her back, mocking her. When she looked over one shoulder, there it stood, the afternoon sun blazing off the bronze harpy atop the Great Pyramid. Inside Meereen the slavers would soon be reclining in their fringed tokars to feast on lamb and olives, unborn puppies, honeyed dormice and other such delicacies, whilst outside her children went hungry. A sudden wild anger filled her. I will bring you down, she swore.

ASOS Daenerys IV

“Woman, you bray like an ass, and make no more sense.”

“Woman?” She chuckled. “Is that meant to insult me? I would return the slap, if I took you for a man.” Dany met his stare. “I am Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, the Unburnt, Mother of Dragons, khaleesi to Drogo’s riders, and queen of the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros.”

~

The man on the white camel named himself Grazdan mo Eraz. Lean and hard, he had a white smile such as Kraznys had worn until Drogon burned off his face.

~

When he was gone, Dany threw herself down on her pillows beside her dragons. She had not meant to be so sharp with Ser Jorah, but his endless suspicion had finally woken her dragon.

He will forgive me, she told herself. I am his liege. Dany found herself wondering whether he was right about Daario. She felt very lonely all of a sudden. Mirri Maz Duur had promised that she would never bear a living child. House Targaryen will end with me. That made her sad. “You must be my children,” she told the dragons, “my three fierce children. Arstan says dragons live longer than men, so you will go on after I am dead.”

ASOS Daenerys III

“I am not a child,” she told him. “I am a queen.”

“Yet even queens can err. The Astapori have cheated you, Your Grace. A dragon is worth more than any army. Aegon proved that three hundred years ago, upon the Field of Fire.”

“I know what Aegon proved. I mean to prove a few things of my own.”

~

She stood in her stirrups and raised the harpy’s fingers above her head for all the Unsullied to see. “IT IS DONE!” she cried at the top of her lungs. “YOU ARE MINE!” She gave the mare her heels and galloped along the first rank, holding the fingers high. “YOU ARE THE DRAGON’S NOW! YOU’RE BOUGHT AND PAID FOR! IT IS DONE! IT IS DONE!”

ASOS Daenerys II

Kraznys had commanded them to lay down their spears and shields, and doff their swordbelts and quilted tunics, so the Queen of Westeros might better inspect the lean hardness of their bodies.

~

“Remind your Good Master of who I am. Remind him that I am Daenerys Stormborn, Mother of Dragons, the Unburnt, trueborn queen of the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros. My blood is the blood of Aegon the Conqueror, and of old Valyria before him.”

~

“When Aegon the Dragon stepped ashore in Westeros, the kings of Vale and Rock and Reach did not rush to hand him their crowns. If you mean to sit his Iron Throne, you must win it as he did, with steel and dragonfire. And that will mean blood on your hands before the thing is done.”

Blood and fire, thought Dany. The words of House Targaryen. She had known them all her life.

ASOS Daenerys I

No squall could frighten Dany, though. Daenerys Stormborn, she was called, for she had come howling into the world on distant Dragonstone as the greatest storm in the memory of Westeros howled outside, a storm so fierce that it ripped gargoyles from the castle walls and smashed her father’s fleet to kindling.

~

“I ... that was not fitting. I am your queen.”

“My queen,” he said, “and the bravest, sweetest, and most beautiful woman I have ever seen. Daenerys—”

“Your Grace!”

A Clash of Kings

ACOK Daenerys V

She was breaking her fast on a bowl of cold shrimp-and-persimmon soup when Irri brought her a Qartheen gown, an airy confection of ivory samite patterned with seed pearls. “Take it away,” Dany said. “The docks are no place for lady’s finery.”

If the Milk Men thought her such a savage, she would dress the part for them. When she went to the stables, she wore faded sandsilk pants and woven grass sandals. Her small breasts moved freely beneath a painted Dothraki vest, and a curved dagger hung from her medallion belt. Jhiqui had braided her hair Dothraki-fashion, and fastened a silver bell to the end of the braid.

~

When she told a Lyseni on the Trumpeteer that she was Daenerys Stormborn, Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, he gave her a deadface look and said, “Aye, and I’m Lord Tywin Lannister and shit gold every night.”

~

She turned back as he reached for his coins, intending to put an end to this mummer’s farce. The blood of the dragon would not be herded through the bazaar by an old man and a fat eunuch.

~

“The great cog Saduleon is berthed at the end of the quay, and the galleys Summer Sun and Joso’s Prank are anchored beyond the breakwater.”

Three heads has the dragon, Dany thought, wondering. “I shall tell my people to make ready to depart at once. But the ships that bring me home must bear different names.”

“As you wish,” said Arstan. “What names would you prefer?”

“Vhagar,” Daenerys told him. “Meraxes. And Balerion. Paint the names on their hulls in golden letters three feet high, Arstan. I want every man who sees them to know the dragons are returned.”

ACOK Daenerys IV

Ser Jorah Mormont gave the merchant prince a sour look. “Your Grace, remember Mirri Maz Duur.”

“I do,” Dany said, suddenly decided. “I remember that she had knowledge. And she was only a maegi.”

Pyat Pree smiled thinly. “The child speaks as sagely as a crone. Take my arm, and let me lead you.”

“I am no child.” Dany took his arm nonetheless.

~

The blood of the dragon must not be afraid. Dany said a quick prayer, begging the Warrior for courage and the Dothraki horse god for strength. She made herself walk forward.

ACOK Daenerys III

“Did you weep?”

“The blood of the dragon does not weep,” she said testily.

Xaro sighed. “You ought to have wept.” The Qartheen wept often and easily; it was considered a mark of the civilized man.

~

Part of her would have liked nothing more than to lead her people back to Vaes Tolorro, and make the dead city bloom. No, that is defeat. I have something Viserys never had. I have the dragons. The dragons are all the difference.

~

Even so, it would be years before they were large enough to take to war. And they must be trained as well, or they will lay my kingdom waste. For all her Targaryen blood, Dany had not the least idea of how to train a dragon.

~

“If you go west, you risk your life.”

“House Targaryen has friends in the Free Cities,” she reminded him. “Truer friends than Xaro or the Pureborn.”

~

“Illyrio believes in no cause but Illyrio. Gluttons are greedy men as a rule, and magisters are devious. Illyrio Mopatis is both. What do you truly know of him?”

“I know that he gave me my dragon eggs.”

He snorted. “If he’d known they were like to hatch, he would have sat on them himself.”

That made her smile despite herself. “Oh, I have no doubt of that, ser. I know Illyrio better than you think. I was a child when I left his manse in Pentos to wed my sun-and-stars, but I was neither deaf nor blind. And I am no child now.”

~

“Sellswords have their uses,” Ser Jorah admitted, “but you will not win your father’s throne with sweepings from the Free Cities. Nothing knits a broken realm together so quick as an invading army on its soil.”

“I am their rightful queen,” Dany protested.

“You are a stranger who means to land on their shores with an army of outlanders who cannot even speak the Common Tongue. The lords of Westeros do not know you, and have every reason to fear and mistrust you. You must win them over before you sail. A few at least.”

~

I am afraid, she realized, but I must be brave.

ACOK Daenerys II

“The only palace I desire is the red castle at King’s Landing, my lord Pyat.” Dany was wary of the warlock; the maegi Mirri Maz Duur had soured her on those who played at sorcery. “And if the great of Qarth would give me gifts, Xaro, let them give me ships and swords to win back what is rightfully mine.”

~

“I am not the frightened girl you met in Pentos. I have counted only fifteen name days, true ... but I am as old as the crones in the dosh khaleen and as young as my dragons, Jorah. I have borne a child, burned a khal, and crossed the red waste and the Dothraki sea. Mine is the blood of the dragon.”

“As was your brother’s,” he said stubbornly.

“I am not Viserys.”

“No,” he admitted. “There is more of Rhaegar in you, I think, but even Rhaegar could be slain. Robert proved that on the Trident, with no more than a warhammer. Even dragons can die.”

“Dragons die.” She stood on her toes to kiss him lightly on an unshaven cheek. “But so do dragonslayers.”

ACOK Daenerys I

A living dragon is beyond price. In all the world, there are only three. Every man who sees them will want them, my queen.”

“They are mine,” she said fiercely. They had been born from her faith and her need, given life by the deaths of her husband and unborn son and the maegi Mirri Maz Duur. Dany had walked into the flames as they came forth, and they had drunk milk from her swollen breasts. “No man will take them from me while I live.”

~

“We follow the comet,” Dany told her khalasar. Once it was said, no word was raised against it. They had been Drogo’s people, but they were hers now. The Unburnt, they called her, and Mother of Dragons. Her word was their law.

~

Dany kissed him lightly on the cheek. It heartened her to see him smile. I must be strong for him as well, she thought grimly. A knight he may be, but I am the blood of the dragon.

A Game of Thrones

AGOT Daenerys X

“Princess ...” he began.

“Why do you call me that?” Dany challenged him. “My brother Viserys was your king, was he not?”

“He was, my lady.”

“Viserys is dead. I am his heir, the last blood of House Targaryen. Whatever was his is mine now.”

“My ... queen,” Ser Jorah said, going to one knee.

~

“You do not mean to die with him? You swear it, my queen?”

“I swear it,” she said in the Common Tongue of the Seven Kingdoms that by rights were hers.

~

Dany called the Dothraki around her. Fewer than a hundred were left. How many had Aegon started with? she wondered. It did not matter.

~

Her bath was scalding hot when Irri helped her into the tub, but Dany did not flinch or cry aloud. She liked the heat. It made her feel clean. Jhiqui had scented the water with the oils she had found in the market in Vaes Dothrak; the steam rose moist and fragrant. [...] Dany closed her eyes and let the smell and the warmth enfold her. She could feel the heat soaking through the soreness between her thighs. She shuddered when it entered her, and her pain and stiffness seemed to dissolve. She floated.

~

The heat beat at the air with great red wings, driving the Dothraki back, driving off even Mormont, but Dany stood her ground. She was the blood of the dragon, and the fire was in her.

~

No, she wanted to shout to him, no, my good knight, do not fear for me. The fire is mine. I am Daenerys Stormborn, daughter of dragons, bride of dragons, mother of dragons, don’t you see? Don’t you SEE?

AGOT Daenerys IX

“Eroeh?” asked Dany, remembering the frightened child she had saved outside the city of the Lamb Men.

“Mago seized her, who is Khal Jhaqo’s bloodrider now,” said Jhogo. “He mounted her high and low and gave her to his khal, and Jhaqo gave her to his other bloodriders. They were six. When they were done with her, they cut her throat.”

“It was her fate, Khaleesi,” said Aggo.


If I look back I am lost. “It was a cruel fate,” Dany said, “yet not so cruel as Mago’s will be. I promise you that, by the old gods and the new, by the lamb god and the horse god and every god that lives. I swear it by the Mother of Mountains and the Womb of the World. Before I am done with them, Mago and Ko Jhaqo will plead for the mercy they showed Eroeh.”

The Dothraki exchanged uncertain glances. “Khaleesi,” the handmaid Irri explained, as if to a child, “Jhaqo is a khal now, with twenty thousand riders at his back.”

She lifted her head. “And I am Daenerys Stormhorn, Daenerys of House Targaryen, of the blood of Aegon the Conqueror and Maegor the Cruel and old Valyria before them. I am the dragon’s daughter, and I swear to you, these men will die screaming. Now bring me to Khal Drogo.”

AGOT Daenerys VIII

[“]Do you trust your khas? Will they come with us?”

“Khal Drogo commanded them to keep me safe,” Dany replied uncertainly, “but if he dies ...” She touched the swell of her belly. “I don’t understand. Why should we flee? I am khaleesi. I carry Drogo’s heir. He will be khal after Drogo ...”

~

“Rein in your tongue, bloodrider. The princess is still your khaleesi.”

“Only while the blood-of-my-blood still lives,” Qotho told the knight. “When he dies, she is nothing.”


Dany felt a tightness inside her. “Before I was khaleesi, I was the blood of the dragon. Ser Jorah, summon my khas.”


~

“Is there no other way?”

“No other.”

Khal Drogo gave a shuddering gasp.

“Do it,” Dany blurted. She must not be afraid; she was the blood of the dragon. “Save him.”

“There is a price,” the godswife warned her.

“You’ll have gold, horses, whatever you like.”

“It is not a matter of gold or horses. This is bloodmagic, lady. Only death may pay for life.”

“Death?” Dany wrapped her arms around herself protectively, rocked back and forth on her heels. “My death?” She told herself she would die for him, if she must. She was the blood of the dragon, she would not be afraid. Her brother Rhaegar had died for the woman he loved.

~

“Khaleesi,” he pleaded, “you must not do this thing. Let me kill this maegi.”

“Kill her and you kill your khal,” Dany said.

“This is bloodmagic,” he said. “It is forbidden.”

���I am khaleesi, and I say it is not forbidden. In Vaes Dothrak, Khal Drogo slew a stallion and I ate his heart, to give our son strength and courage. This is the same. The same.”

AGOT Daenerys VII

“You cannot claim them all, child,” Ser Jorah said, the fourth time they stopped, while the warriors of her khas herded her new slaves behind her.

“I am khaleesi, heir to the Seven Kingdoms, the blood of the dragon,” Dany reminded him. “It is not for you to tell me what I cannot do.” Across the city, a building collapsed in a great gout of fire and smoke, and she heard distant screams and the wailing of frightened children.

~

“If your warriors would mount these women, let them take them gently and keep them for wives. Give them places in the khalasar and let them bear you sons.”

Qotho was ever the cruelest of the bloodriders. It was he who laughed. “Does the horse breed with the sheep?”

Something in his tone reminded her of Viserys. Dany turned on him angrily. “The dragon feeds on horse and sheep alike.”

AGOT Daenerys VI

If I were not the blood of the dragon, she thought wistfully, this could be my home. She was khaleesi, she had a strong man and a swift horse, handmaids to serve her, warriors to keep her safe, an honored place in the dosh khaleen awaiting her when she grew old ... and in her womb grew a son who would one day bestride the world. That should be enough for any woman ... but not for the dragon. With Viserys gone, Daenerys was the last, the very last. She was the seed of kings and conquerors, and so too the child inside her. She must not forget.

~

Dany was near tears as they carried her back. The taste in her mouth was one she had known before: fear. For years she had lived in terror of Viserys, afraid of waking the dragon. This was even worse. It was not just for herself that she feared now, but for her baby. He must have sensed her fright, for he moved restlessly inside her. Dany stroked the swell of her belly gently, wishing she could reach him, touch him, soothe him. “You are the blood of the dragon, little one,” she whispered as her litter swayed along, curtains drawn tight. “You are the blood of the dragon, and the dragon does not fear.”

~

“Was it the Usurper?”

“Yes.” The knight drew out a folded parchment. “A letter to Viserys, from Magister Illyrio. Robert Baratheon offers lands and lordships for your death, or your brother’s.”

“My brother?” Her sob was half a laugh. “He does not know yet, does he? The Usurper owes Drogo a lordship.” This time her laugh was half a sob. She hugged herself protectively. “And me, you said. Only me?”

“You and the child,” Ser Jorah said, grim.

“No. He cannot have my son.” She would not weep, she decided. She would not shiver with fear. The Usurper has woken the dragon now, she told herself ... and her eyes went to the dragon’s eggs resting in their nest of dark velvet.

AGOT Daenerys V

She must not flinch or look afraid. I am the blood of the dragon, she told herself as she took the stallion’s heart in both hands, lifted it to her mouth, and plunged her teeth into the tough, stringy flesh.

Warm blood filled her mouth and ran down over her chin. The taste threatened to gag her, but she made herself chew and swallow. The heart of a stallion would make her son strong and swift and fearless, or so the Dothraki believed, but only if the mother could eat it all. If she choked on the blood or retched up the flesh, the omens were less favorable; the child might be stillborn, or come forth weak, deformed, or female.

~

And finally it was done. Her cheeks and fingers were sticky as she forced down the last of it. Only then did she turn her eyes back to the old women, the crones of the dosh khaleen.

“Khalakka dothrae mr’anha!” she proclaimed in her best Dothraki. A prince rides inside me! She had practiced the phrase for days with her handmaid Jhiqui.

AGOT Daenerys IV

The water was scalding hot, as she liked it.

~

The Dothraki would respect him more if he looked less a beggar, she hoped, and perhaps he would forgive her for shaming him that day in the grass. He was still her king, after all, and her brother. They were both blood of the dragon.

~

“Next you’ll want to braid my hair.”

“I’d never ... ” Why was he always so cruel? She had only wanted to help. “You have no right to a braid, you have won no victories yet.”

It was the wrong thing to say. Fury shone from his lilac eyes, yet he dared not strike her, not with her handmaids watching and the warriors of her khas outside. Viserys picked up the cloak and sniffed at it. “This stinks of manure. Perhaps I shall use it as a horse blanket.”

“I had Doreah sew it specially for you,” she told him, wounded. “These are garments fit for a khal.” “I am the Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, not some grass-stained savage with bells in his hair,” Viserys spat back at her. He grabbed her arm. “You forget yourself, slut. Do you think that big belly will protect you if you wake the dragon?”

His fingers dug into her arm painfully and for an instant Dany felt like a child again, quailing in the face of his rage. She reached out with her other hand and grabbed the first thing she touched, the belt she’d hoped to give him, a heavy chain of ornate bronze medallions. She swung it with all her strength.

It caught him full in the face. Viserys let go of her. Blood ran down his cheek where the edge of one of the medallions had sliced it open. “You are the one who forgets himself,” Dany said to him. “Didn’t you learn anything that day in the grass? Leave me now, before I summon my khas to drag you out. And pray that Khal Drogo does not hear of this, or he will cut open your belly and feed you your own entrails.”

AGOT Daenerys III

“Wait here,” Dany told Ser Jorah. “Tell them all to stay. Tell them I command it.”

The knight smiled. Ser Jorah was not a handsome man. He had a neck and shoulders like a bull, and coarse black hair covered his arms and chest so thickly that there was none left for his head. Yet his smiles gave Dany comfort. “You are learning to talk like a queen, Daenerys.”

“Not a queen,” said Dany. “A khaleesi.” She wheeled her horse about and galloped down the ridge alone.

The descent was steep and rocky, but Dany rode fearlessly, and the joy and the danger of it were a song in her heart. All her life Viserys had told her she was a princess, but not until she rode her silver had Daenerys Targaryen ever felt like one.

~

“What do you pray for, Ser Jorah?” she asked him.

“Home,” he said. His voice was thick with longing.

“I pray for home too,” she told him, believing it.

Ser Jorah laughed. “Look around you then, Khaleesi.”

But it was not the plains Dany saw then. It was King’s Landing and the great Red Keep that Aegon the Conqueror had built. It was Dragonstone where she had been born. In her mind’s eye they burned with a thousand lights, a fire blazing in every window. In her mind’s eye, all the doors were red.

~

“He could not lead an army even if my lord husband gave him one,” Dany said. “He has no coin and the only knight who follows him reviles him as less than a snake. The Dothraki make mock of his weakness. He will never take us home.”

“Wise child.” The knight smiled.

“I am no child,” she told him fiercely. Her heels pressed into the sides of her mount, rousing the silver to a gallop. Faster and faster she raced, leaving Jorah and Irri and the others far behind, the warm wind in her hair and the setting sun red on her face. By the time she reached the khalasar, it was dusk.

~

There is no privacy in the heart of the khalasar. Dany felt the eyes on her as she undressed him, heard the soft voices as she did the things that Doreah had told her to do. It was nothing to her. Was she not khaleesi? His were the only eyes that mattered, and when she mounted him she saw something there that she had never seen before. She rode him as fiercely as ever she had ridden her silver, and when the moment of his pleasure came, Khal Drogo called out her name.

AGOT Daenerys II

Dany had never felt so alone as she did seated in the midst of that vast horde. Her brother had told her to smile, and so she smiled until her face ached and the tears came unbidden to her eyes. She did her best to hide them, knowing how angry Viserys would be if he saw her crying, terrified of how Khal Drogo might react. [...]

There was no one to talk to. Khal Drogo shouted commands and jests down to his bloodriders, and laughed at their replies, but he scarcely glanced at Dany beside him. They had no common language. Dothraki was incomprehensible to her, and the khal knew only a few words of the bastard Valyrian of the Free Cities, and none at all of the Common Tongue of the Seven Kingdoms. She would even have welcomed the conversation of Illyrio and her brother, but they were too far below to hear her.

So she sat in her wedding silks, nursing a cup of honeyed wine, afraid to eat, talking silently to herself. I am blood of the dragon, she told herself. I am Daenerys Stormborn, Princess of Dragonstone, of the blood and seed of Aegon the Conqueror.

~

She was afraid of her brother, of what he might do if she failed him. Most of all, she was afraid of what would happen tonight under the stars, when her brother gave her up to the hulking giant who sat drinking beside her with a face as still and cruel as a bronze mask. I am the blood of the dragon, she told herself again.

~

“Please him, sweet sister, or I swear, you will see the dragon wake as it has never woken before.”

The fear came back to her then, with her brother’s words. She felt like a child once more, only thirteen and all alone, not ready for what was about to happen to her.

They rode out together as the stars came out, leaving the khalasar and the grass palaces behind. Khal Drogo spoke no word to her, but drove his stallion at a hard trot through the gathering dusk. The tiny silver bells in his long braid rang softly as he rode. “I am the blood of the dragon,” she whispered aloud as she followed, trying to keep her courage up. “I am the blood of the dragon. I am the blood of the dragon.” The dragon was never afraid.

AGOT Daenerys I

The girl pulled the rough cotton tunic over Dany’s head and helped her into the tub. The water was scalding hot, but Daenerys did not flinch or cry out. She liked the heat. It made her feel clean. Besides, her brother had often told her that it was never too hot for a Targaryen. “Ours is the house of the dragon,” he would say. “The fire is in our blood.”

[skeletorific]

man i just wanna throw this out there and i think you'll catch it, how do you think some of the ancestors would take an invite to a human thing like a party or a ceremony? like if it was prefaced with 'compared to troll events there's a strict no one dies policy and a be human-style nice to people you don't particularly like or care for rule as well' idk if even the first ship crew would come along, and tbh i wouldn't really fault them because it's new and spoopy and they're dead after all

Ok, so you have thrown it, and I have caught it. I am unsure if I caught it in the direction you threw it, but I have caught SOMETHING and it is something I love dearly.

So, this question: I had to think for a moment. What scenario results in every single ancestor being in the same locale, in such a capacity that they are forced to interact, not only with each other, but with humans, to the point that not only can they not kill anyone but there is literally no point in killing each other?

....

....OH WAIT EARTH C-

So yeah, everyone say thank you paradox space. There had to be at least one dream bubble out there from a timeline where the alphas got yoinked into sburb as their Alternian selves by mistake right?

So, let’s assume they’ve had a few months to settle in, adjust to modern life. Troll kingdom has issued an ultimatum to the more....chaotic Ancestors in terms of the rearranged hemospectrum. They will, to quote Karkat, “FUCKING DEAL WITH IT”. Not an easy pill to swallow for a few of them, but then, a few millenia in the dream bubbles has forcibly mellowed them quite a bit and eventually its just more trouble than its worth.

I have a lot of thoughts on this timeline (ancestors get apartments are you kidding me, the potential), but let’s return to the question at hand.

The invitation makes the rounds through a lot of ghost communities, but a particularly bold human approaches the Ancestors themselves with an invite to one of the bigger ragers being thrown in the human kingdom. The celebration of the return of the gods is always a blowout, and this year promises to be especially so, with something between a gala and a block party planned to be pitched.

So here’s why they all show up, and here’s what they do:

The Handmaid is an odd duck. Sure, there’s a certain morose pleasure in watching the cosmic plans of the man who abused her from childhood fall apart because of a handful of chump kids, but that doesn’t mean she’s happy to be back here with these assholes, and it doesn’t mean she’s looking to build a social life. She’s perfectly happy to spend the rest of her days haunting the abandoned house she found on the outskirts of the carapace kingdom and terrorize any local teens that stick their noses where they aren’t wanted. When the uni student turns up with a flyer she cusses them out but good and sends them on their way with a couple of threats to life and limb.

And then shows up anyways.

Not to socialize, mind, just to watch. From the rafters probably. Snickering at all the drama going down, dropping spiders in Makara’s drink and stealing Dualscar’s watch when he’s not looking. And maybe see if Condy gets drunk enough to want a rematch. Laws be damned. Now THIS is a party.

The Signless’s entire crew is a bit of a chain pull. The Disciple wants to go extremely badly, so of course she manages to purrsuade The Signless to come with her. The Psiionic doesn’t want to go period but he’ll be damned if he’s letting Vantas out of his sight into an unguarded area. The Dolorosa wanted to go this whole time and is the one who got Leijon all riled up about it in the first place, but pretends she’s just doing it to keep an eye on Vantas and Captor.

Once there, they’re not exactly social butterflies, but compared to the others they’re practically savants. Leijon prowls on the edges of crowds, listening for snatches of information, and enjoys constructing narratives in her own mind about the relationships between all of them. Vantas finds himself pulled into a lot of conversations just to explain his life’s work (and, to his chagrin, to destabilize a few myths he’s accrued over the centuries). He tries to keep a level head but after a few beers though he’s hotly debating politics with three or four Kankri ghosts and has to be dragged away by Captor, who’s been following him and Leijon like a kid following their parent at a family reunion. Maryam disappeared hours ago and doesn’t get back home late, looking a little bit smug but tight-lipped about her evening. All four of them avoid the other Ancestors like the plague.

Neophyte Redglare of all of them has probably adjusted the best to this new life. Unlike the others, she’s actually gotten some friends that weren’t a part of the dream bubbles, and would happily spend most of the evening chattering with them. Still, for reasons we’ll get into it later, she spends most of it babysitting Makara and doing a bit of pitch-flirting with everyone’s favorite pir8.

Speaking of the Marquise Mindfang Spineret, like the Handmaid she protested loudly she was too cool for this party and then showed up anyways. Still, its not like she’s there to socialize. Most of what she does is spot the people who look like they might be heading off to bigger and more illegal things outside the party and without a word installing herself as part of their social circle. She invites Nitram, but her matesprit is a little occupied with an old enemy. That’s fine, she appreciates a score to settle, but its not fun if someone isn’t paying attention to her antics. Fortunately, Pyrope is happy to oblige her, and Dualscar is a delightful enough lackey while he’s still sober enough to handle it (so, for about five minutes). All told, an entert8ning evening indeed ;;;)

Executor Darkleer shows up for roughly ten minutes, near the very end, and does what he’s done at most social gatherings since they left the dream bubbles: stand awkwardly in the corner, stare at Leijon, and wonder if they’re still cool. Are they still cool? Probably? Right? But who’s to say. He absconds early to go work on his personal projects and probably punch something.

The Summoner is in peak form. Like Vantas, he has plenty of questions coming his way, and while no Nitram has ever been arrogant, he’s at least a little indulgent about some, shall we say, popular headcanons that have popped up since then. He’s slamming beers to cover up the usual low level of social anxiety (a battlefield he can handle, but a soiree is another matter altogether), and its working. He’s flirting a storm through the ballroom, something Serket is probably going to give him repercussions for. Its also making him a little, uh....confrontational, shall we say. So when he spot an old, clowny foe, well...

Oh, The Grand Highblood. 

He didn’t want to come. Full stop. Picked the wriggler with the flyer up by the back of their shirt and turned them around. Damn lucky he didn’t just throw them out. He wasn’t going to show up at this meaningless little heretical shindig, bump shoulders with strangers and be bored out of his motherfucking skull to boot. The only reason he got dragged in is Peixes didn’t give him a lot of other options. So here he is. Standing like a grim spectre of everyone’s demise, sullenly scowling at anyone who approaches and snarling at anyone who opens their protein chute in his direction.

For about five minutes.

What can I say, clowns love parties.  A couple of faygos later (if you think Condy didn’t come prepared you’re crazy) and this brawny ass goat is getting turnt out of his mind on the dancefloor. Nobody knows exactly what the fuck he’s doing with his body but its definitely deeply explicit and more than a little alarming. Still, it suits the environment, and there’s this unaccountable field of manic energy that just sort of erupts around him, escalating the party wherever he goes. Redglare has to babysit him (because Peixes, Serket and Ampora sure won’t, and who the fuck knows where Zahhak is), and even still he ends up with a busted keg dangling from one of his horns. He is feeding off of this motherfucking rhapsody tonight, fellas, and the grisly bastard has more than a few sick bars in him.

Orphaner Dualscar is decidedly less enthused. Nothing quite like being a failed romantic footnote in the only surviving account of your life to kill your rep as an intimidating pirate. He’s not adjusting well to modern life, and mostly spends the night in the corner with a solo cup, scowling at any and all. For a while he joins Serket in her activities but eventually is too soused to really participate, and she ditches him. Which is starting to become a recurring trend. He spends the rest of the night trying to seduce someone, literally, anyone, just get him out of this fucking stupid party, he’s so FUCKIN LONELY GOG-

up to you if it actually works or not.

Meanwhile, Her (Formerly) Imperial Condescension.....look, Peixes can’t stay away from a party. Even a lame-ass one for guppies 3>8(. I mean, the no killing thing is REALLY fucking cramping her style, but to be frank its more trouble than its worth. Most of them just come back as ghosts and try to bonk you back. Annoying is what it is. So, fine, she agrees, no culling. 

Doesn’t mean the party can’t at least be interesting, and that’s damn well what she brought Makara to do for her. Works like a charm, too, Makara might be a grumpy basshole but he knows how to cut loose when he wants to. She’s chanting him through chugging an entire keg on his own with a small crowd of people when she spots a familiar pair of impossibly wide horns. Ohhh shit, get the grubcorn-.....wait, is that Megido in the rafters?!

No trolls or humans were (fatally) harmed in the making of this evening’s closing act, but suffice to say the building wasn’t so lucky. Two reenactments of the more legendary battles in Alternian history (which is saying something) was more than the palace could handle. In the end they were separated and sent to dry out in separate cells, Dave using his time powers to keep a handle on the The Handmaid. 

Suffice to say it’ll be a while before any of them get another invitation.

[mid-tier-works]

Mulan (2020), the movie that made my head hurt

After spending a good chunk of money to go watch this at a cinema with the family, I can safely say one thing.

It sucks.

Characters were flat, scenes didn't make sense, and Disney's effort to incorporate more adult themes into the movie ended up making it sexist, historically inaccurate, and flat-out annoying.

Because I have too much time on my hands, here we go, part by part. Since I don't have much knowledge of cinematography or camera stuff, I'm going to stick to the content itself. And that alone is quite a lot.

(Spoilers below this line. You sure you want to continue?)

(Right, fine. Here we go.)

Opening scene

Quick recap: Young Mulan helps herd chickens in her household. Chicken does as chickens do, resulting in Mulan needing to employ her "chi" superpowers to catch it.

I can forgive the action scene, but what I cannot forgive is how extraordinary they made her. Mulan's story was supposed to be about a regular girl whose courage drives her to do amazing things. This here, getting powers without even having to train, and just making her better than everyone from the beginning, should have been the first sign that this was going to suck. I ignored it. How naive of me.

That word again. That fucking word. Being Chinese, I am getting very tired of each and every western movie studio adding this in as an explanation for otherworldly Asian powers. Besides, I'm pretty sure that "chi" isn't just something you're born with, but I've been out of touch for too long, so I'll have to let this pass.

Mention of the word 'witch'. 'Demon' would be more fitting in an ancient Chinese setting.

Matchmaker, and stuff

Recap: Mulan, now a young woman, has to get married off to bring honour to her family and also hide her "chi" powers away.

More showing off of powers as she successfully catches falling teapots and teacups.

Instead of the cricket, this scene's interruption is caused by Mulan trying to catch a spider before it could land and scare her sister. Oh, she has a sister. I don't remember her much. She's just kind of there.

Going off to war

Recap: Mulan's father gets drafted, she goes in his place under cover of night and travels far, far away to get to the army camp.

Nothing much, except that the guardian dragon has been replaced with a phoenix. That would be fine, except:

During her travels, Mulan sees some random phoenix flying around. It was supposed to symbolize her ancestors' protection, but it just looks dumb.

Army camp stuff

Recap: Mulan arrives at army camp. Shenanigans ensue.

Beats up another guy for calling her 'little man', which is not even an insult. I think this was supposed to showcase how threatened she felt, but it's just too jarring to be taken seriously.

She does not struggle with practice. Just looks like she's enjoying herself. And where are those three friends? The ones we know and lo-

Oh, they've been replaced by some guy called Hong Hui. Don't remember much about him except he doesn't know how to talk to girls and asks Mulan for advice.

Mulan shows off "chi" powers during practice. Instead of getting reprimanded, she gains the favour of her battalion commander. Soldiers fight as a unit, not as individuals. You're not going to get special treatment for being slightly better than everyone else. Showing off during practice will get you into trouble.

Attempted building of chemistry between her and Hong Hui. Result is a miserable failure.

Battle and stuff

Recap: Mulan's battalion finds out that a battalion close to theirs got annihilated by the Rourans. Oh, the Huns are replaced by Rourans. And it turns out that Shan Yu, now called Bori Khan, has a bird that is also a shapeshifter woman. I like her, and it's totally not because she's pretty. Oh, and she gets a redemption arc that fails terribly, but more on that later.

In the cartoon, the scene of the battlefield and dead soldiers is cut to after the musical number 'Girl Worth Fighting For'. It's brilliant, and it really shows how those untrained soldiers went from boys just messing around to men that are willing to put down their lives for their country. In the live-action movie, that scene is just cut to with no explanation. It's just there.

Battle commences. A few Rourans flee. Commander tells Mulan's wing to go after them for reasons. Just an excuse for her to show off more powers as her comrades get killed off one by one. Oh, and it's to set up this next scene:

Solo encounter with the shapeshifter (called a 'witch'. Hmph.). The parallels between the heroine and the villain is thrown into the audiences' faces because heaven forbid you do some extra thinking to make that conclusion yourself. No, really. It just goes like 'You are woman and I am woman. We are both forced to hide magic powers so we are same.' Witch kills her with a knife to the heart. But since the phoenix is protecting her, she resurrects and saves her remaining comrades with the old avalanche trick.

Because 'a lie can only live so long', she exposes herself and her commander tells her to leave. Doesn't even consider execution. The stakes cannot be lower.

More stupid stuff

Recap: After riding off into the sunset, Mulan encounters the witch. Repeat 'You are woman and I am woman. We are both forced to hide magic powers so we are same.' Mulan refuses to turn to the dark side. Witch accidentally exposes Top Secret Rouran Plans™. Mulan goes to find commander.

Commander doesn't just ignore her. And he gives her a chance to redeem herself. I hate this for many reasons.

One elite squad, including Mulan, is sent to the Imperial City to foil Top Secret Rouran Plans™. Because of course.

They encounter more Rourans but none of them die. The rest of the squad let Mulan go alone to save the emperor because Disney needed to show off those special effects, which, by the way, weren't remarkable.

Mulan encounters witch (again). Repeat of Stupid Stuff, except witch is considering leaving Rourans because, hey, if this girl exposed her true self and still survived, maybe she didn't need to work for Rourans who hate her for being woman. 'There is a place for people like us.' Please.

Mulan goes after emperor who is tied to stick and about to be burned. Bori Khan (discount Shan Yu) fires an arrow at Mulan, but the witch, having served her purpose to the plot, takes the arrow for Mulan and dies.

Emperor is rescued and everyone is happy. Yay.

Reward time

Recap: Mulan achieves honour for family. Everyone is happy.

This was the point where my brain stopped processing what I was seeing.

Major Issues:

Giving Mulan powers sends the wrong message. Instead of 'Girls, you can do anything you put your mind to', it's 'Girls, you can only fight if you have special powers'. Plus the ‘not like other girls’ subtext gets louder and louder with each scene. 

The witch character just sounds hasty.

Dialogue is awful. Everything is horribly scripted.

Nobody has much personality. They all speak the same and have the same facial expressions. Doesn't help that Mulan's actress does not have very good acting skills.

No Li Shang.

[aesop1]

clumsy [4]

pirate!chanyeol x reader

a/n: hello hello! i just finished this segment of the story and i want to thank everyone again! you all keep me so motivated, i am so grateful! i really feel like im improving slightly? so really thank you for sticking with me through this chaos lol. please enjoy!

word count: 4.3 k

warnings: more and more cursing, mayhaps some cringe

(i do not own the gif)

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6

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

“what the fuck just happened?” baekhyun asked, his tone a mixture of fear and confusion.

“yixing, what was that?” junmyeon questioned the man who still had a grip on your shoulders. “what did you show him?”

“what the fuck just happened?” baekhyun repeated, same startled tone and expression.

“is she an ancestor?” sehun chimed in, voice soft as if to not provoke you.

“what the fuck is an ancestor?” minseok sputtered out, staring back at the cloaked figure as their ship dove deeper into the fog.

“they’re ancient beings who helped to form the natural feats of the world. they blend in with our society nowadays as normal people, and even procreate with them,” jongin explained in a monotonous manner. “God, I hate that I know that. thanks a lot, sehun, I’m sick of your fucking fairytales.”

“what the fuck just happened?”

“well it’s my fairytales that have given us some insight to the situation. otherwise, we’d probably be dealing with bangtan right now.”

“it was yixing who showed the guy her neck,” kyungsoo sassed to sehun, pushing his shoulder.

“how would yixing have known to show her neck if it weren’t for me?” sehun went face to face with kyungsoo, who glared up at him with the same ferocity as two wild animals in a showdown.

“what the fuck just happened?”

“you didn’t say anything about a neck,” jongdae accused, then pointed to yixing, “you mentioned a marking and yixing then showed her neck.”

“I should still get credit for this,” sehun demanded, backing away from kyungsoo to look at the crew.

“what the fuck just happened?”

“ENOUGH,” chanyeol shouted, stepping away from the wheel to confront his hectic men. “everybody just calm down.” at his words, everyone began settling from their panic, swallowing down arguments laying on the tip of their tongues, ready to spill and cause more bedlam amongst one another. you remained frozen, staring down at the many boots circling you, awaiting answers. you lifted your head, eight pairs of eyes glued to you expectantly. dread seeped into your bones, a lump forming in your throat as tears began welling up on your lash line. your hands began trembling and you frowned at everyone before you.

“I don’t know,” you whispered out, head hanging down while your arms hugged your body.

“look,” yixing began, squeezing your shoulders in a reassuring way. “I saw a tattoo on the back of her neck when I was sewing her cut. or at least I thought it was a tattoo.”

“what was the tattoo?” chanyeol pressed, stepping closer to you both.

“it’s a shell, it’s just a shell,” yixing explained. he gathered your hair in his hands and lifted the wad of locks up, softly apologizing to you before leaning your head down for everyone. they all gave sounds of acknowledgement as they were now pleased with the intel given to them. “i didn’t know anything, I just decided to take a chance. I mean, mystery girl with tattoo on the back of her neck?” everyone nodded in agreeance, lingering together in silence, lost to whatever they found themselves venturing in.

kyungsoo was the first to part from the group, wandering over to the bow of the ship in hopes of spotting something through the dense filter of gray. after that, everyone began trickling away, leaving you, yixing, and chanyeol who refused to take his eyes off you.

“yixing, man the ship,” chanyeol commanded, hand gripping the back of your neck to guide you elsewhere. yixing was hesitant to let go of your shoulders, but had no choice as chanyeol had already whisked you away from his claim on you.

he took you down the familiar hall leading to his quarters and shut the door once within the safety of his room. the candles littering the walls and surfaces were still alight, providing a low yet sufficient amount of lighting; enough to admire the shadows casting across his worried features.

“what’s going on?” he started, standing unnecessarily close to you, but he didn’t seem to notice. however, you did, and your mind became muddled with other thoughts at his proximity. from here, you were surrounded by his intoxicating aroma of sea salt, and another scent that could only be described as him. his hair was tousled by the ocean breeze from his sailing, pushed back to reveal his tensed eyebrows. a fluttery sensation occurred in your abdomen at the sight of him, heart stuttering at his intense gaze.

“I don’t know,” you unconsciously spoke, eyes still locked with his. your heart stuttered when you saw his expression soften. why wasn’t he yelling at you? you would’ve assumed that your lack of knowledge on the situation would’ve infuriated him, yet here he was watching you with considering eyes. he bit his bottom lip, staying like that for a few more seconds before shaking his head.

“you havent the slightest idea to how you got that,” his hand laid on the side of your neck, his fingers stroking what you assumed was the mysterious marking on your skin. you found yourself tilting your head more into his touch, a heat like no other distracting you from any sort of reasoning your inner thoughts may be yelling to you. chanyeol smiled inwardly at your actions, but proceeded nonetheless. “if you’re not sure who you are, then who were your parents?”

at the mention of your parents, you were brought back to reality, retracting from his touch and turning around to hide your desolate expression.

“I lost my mother when I was younger, and my father…” you trailed off, your blood boiling at the memories flooding back. how could you forget who you were in the presence of? you were growing feelings for the very man who killed your father. as if aware of your conflicted thoughts, chanyeol placed a hand on your back, resulting in you jerking away from him and curling into yourself. “I lost my father to you.”

“what?” chanyeol spat, whirling you around and clamping his hands down on your shoulders. at first, indignation radiated from him, but the longer he looked at you, the calmer he became. “is that what you think happened?”

“it’s what I know happened, I saw you over his dead body.” his eyes rolled up to the ceiling as he thought back to the day they pillaged your town. to his knowledge, he killed no one that day. he was focusing on gathering as many resources as he could, letting his crew weaken their men. he stepped up to your doorstep where your father lied, and was distracted by you falling at the top of the stairs. at the memory, he gave a light snicker and looked back down to you. you were staring to the side, refusing to give him your attention.

“hey,” he guided your chin up with his index and middle finger, breath faltering as you looked to him. he’s never been this close to you, never was able to admire your features from this close. your eyes spoke to him like never before, like a ballad lulling him into a dazed state. “I killed no one that day.” you scoffed and tossed your head to the side again, causing him to immediately turn you to face him again with a hand on your cheek, the other still laying on your neck. “if you don’t believe me, we’ll ask the crew. we’ll find the truth.” your eyes began to water the more you thought back to your loss, but also because of the conflict occurring in your heart. “I can assure you, not as a pirate, but as the man I am, that I did not kill your father.” you lightly gasped as his nose met yours, your lips only centimeters away from meeting. you could feel the warmth of his breath hitting your skin, causing shivers to traipse down your spine. chanyeol was just as affected by this as you, finding himself taking in a shaky breath and stroking your cheek, almost lovingly. “I could never do that to you.”

you remained like that for a few more moments, just barely kissing when a knock had you both stumbling away from each other. you tripped on your own foot as you pulled back, arms flailing at your side to gain balance. you felt yourself tipping back and prepared for the impact of the hard wood. with a yelp, you landed into a set of arms you already knew had to be chanyeol, peeking through your shut eyes to see he had lunged forward to catch you. at the lack of response, the door opened to reveal junmyeon who took one look at the two of you and coughed, turning away at the rather intimate position you were found in.

“we’re approaching land,” he informed, backing away from door and gradually closing the door. “we’ll wait for your next word.”

when the door shut, you pulled yourself away from chanyeol and dusted yourself off. your cheeks flared up as his touch lingered on you, flames dancing beneath the skin he touched. your heart thumped against your ribs in a miserable attempt to reconnect with him, yet your mind kept you grounded in your spot.

“I’ll see you on the deck, chanyeol,” you informed, gliding out of the room in a swift and professional manner to make up for your mishap a minute earlier.

who were you kidding. they all knew you were a klutz, they all knew you were sporting two left feet. you could never change who you were. you would always be called a bungler for the rest of your life.

“are you okay?” kyungsoo asked you, holding your upper arm and staring at you with concern. baekhyun was standing beside him, reaching out and wiping a stray tear of yours with the knuckle of his finger.

“oh,” you swiped at your cheeks, discovering you had begun crying on your way up. “oh, im fine. im okay. just confused.” your voice drifted off towards your last statement, almost speaking under your breathe rather than to them.

kyungsoo didn’t press the matter, offering a grin before turning to the rest of the men gathered at the bow of the ship. in the distance was a slab of black across the horizon: an island. you rushed over, peeking over sehun’s shoulders to get a better look. many ships lined the perimeters of the land, ranging from simple sail boats to massive vessels.

“jongdae, sehun, start lowering the sails,” chanyeol’s voice commanded from behind you all. the two men quickly parted from the group and ran to their duties. you glanced over your shoulder briefly to find chanyeol gripping the wheel again, a stern expression across his face. with a lazy shift of his eyes, he stared back at you with an intensity equivalent to that of the sun. a rush of heat flooded to your face, coating your cheeks in red. with a whimper, you turned over and kept staring forward, avoiding his leering. biting your lip, you glanced over to the man on your right. jongin.

you weren’t very close to him, maybe one or two brief encounters through other members. he seemed polite enough, at least to the others. maybe it wasn’t the wisest decision to have your first conversation be so heavy, but you were far too curious to chanyeol’s claims.

“jongin,” you leaned over to him, speaking softly into his ear. he hummed as a response, eyes still raking over the new found land. well, here goes nothing. “did you kill my father?”

“pardon?” he finally looked over to you, eyebrows scrunched together in puzzlement.

“at my village, there was a small restaurant by the seaside, on the right of the main dock.” you sighed to yourself, memories tormenting your sanity. with a shaky breathe, you continued your investigation. “did you kill the man at the doorstep?”

“no, I ran directly to the repository to take all the gold standard supplied there.” he answered. you could tell he was being honest, so you leaned against the railing in temporary defeat. there was a moment of silence before jongin cleared his throat to fill the tension. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“s'okay,” you mumbled, eyes falling to the black water below. “just trying to find out the truth.” there was a moment of silence between you two before he cleared his throat.

“I’m…” he trailed off, reconsidering his wording. “I’m in charge of tactiles. if it’s any consolation, I could tell you the potential culprits.”

“you’d really do that?” you asked, bottom lip jutted out, eyes wide at the prospect of him helping you

“yeah, sure.” he clapped his hand over your back, leaning some of his weight on you as he neared your ear. “I can tell you now, chanyeol was the last one off the boat; he couldn’t have done it.”

before you could question him on how he knew your motives, he was already waltzing over to junmyeon and yixing to keep looking at the approaching island.

chanyeol was the last one off the boat

you breathed heavily as you recounted the words just told to you. could you trust chanyeol solely on jongin’s claims? he seemed rather genuine, but it could always be a guise to dupe you and shield his captain. if that were the case, wouldn’t all of the men do the same? pirates must be incredibly loyal to one another to survive together, so you’d assume they wouldn’t toss the blame to one another. so based off that insinuation, could you trust any of the guys?

you watched as the once distant island grew larger and clearer the closer you got. the sea was eerily silent, more so than usual. the fog consumed everything like a maelstrom, all remnants of sun absent from your surroundings. the creaks of the ship seemed to intensify, the sloshing of water near deafening as your nerves began to fire up once more. your chest tightened when you started clarifying outlines of buildings and figures. there were people here, a fact you somehow forgot to consider. what if they questioned your validity? they could probably smell an impostor from a kilometer away, would they believe the measly tattoo on your neck?

the ship began to slow down with the lack of wind, and began dragging to a stop as sehun dropped the anchor. the vessel seemed to blend with the others around it in size, only one or two larger, as well as a few smaller ships. no one was on the deck, so you still had time to prepare yourself. how would you communicate with new people? you had known everyone in your village your whole life, and you met these pirates in a rather undesirable way. can you actually approach a person normally? you began rehearsing various conversation starters in your head, unaware of the irked captain approaching you.

you snapped out of your revelry as a hand clamped around the back of your neck once more, swiveling and guiding your body to the rest of the group.

“you need to focus,” he reprimanded you, keeping a firm yet painless grip on you. “listen when I’m calling your name. as much as you hate me, I’m your ticket out of here once we feel it safe for us.”

“who were they? the men you all evaded?” you asked, chanyeol slowing his steps to delay your arrival to the rest of the crew.

“they’re pirates, just like us,” he explained. “we’ve had a lot of run ins with them, and we can usually overpower them. it’s just exhausting. this time around, I didn’t know what to expect. that ship they were sailing was newer, so I wasn’t aware of what weaponry they could’ve had stowed away. I found it safer to evacuate than to go in and risk the death of one of my men.”

you gazed up at him, that recurrent feeling fluttering away in you once more. his expression was rigid as stone, yet his touch was feather soft. at that moment, all precaution flew out the window as you only saw a caring and good hearted man hidden beneath a hard exterior. how could such a devastatingly handsome man you’ve only known for a mere day have this sort of effect on you? it was like you suddenly disregarded his conviction and fell for a potential murderer.

“(y/n)?” a faded voice called out to you, but you were far too preoccupied admiring chanyeol’s long lashes, your eyes traversing down his slim cheeks and to his sharp jaw line. you watched the bob of his Adam’s apple before your eyes drifted to the broad expanse of his shoulders. oh, the weight he must be carrying on them. ever since you showed up to the ship, he’s only ever shown signs of distress and anger. what you wouldn’t give to see him genuinely smile; preferably towards you. “(y/n)!”

“huh?” you finally looked over to see kyungsoo beside you, as well as the rest staring back at you. “sorry. I lost my train of thought.”

“focus,” chanyeol squeezed the back of your neck for a second before dropping his hand to his side and going over the plan of action for their endeavor. “we treat this island just like we would any other, aye? junmyeon and I find an inn for the night, you guys find the tavern and get some information out discreetly. we don’t want to seem completely out of the loop.” you jumped when you felt his hand hover over your midback, barely skimming the worn out material of your shirt. “we will take (y/n) with us. we could use her marking in case of emergencies.”

the men all agreed before descending down to the dock using a wooden slab. the fog was still ever present, the only factor breaking through being the distant lanterns adorning the streets. chanyeol guided you closer to the island, perspiration creating a thin sheen on your face. the dock felt as if you were actually walking the plank to your doom, your escorts’ sea status adding to the irony of your conjured predicament. who knew what lied at the end of this death walk.

you were met with a rather anticlimactic conclusion as the streets were filled with normal looking civilians. well, if the civilians were all sailors of some sort. layers upon layers of thick clothing to protect from the harsh sea conditions, scars garnishing every exposed skin, swords and guns out in the open as if they were just parasols and books. all of this, yet you found a strange sense of comfort at your surroundings. intimidating as these folks were, they paid you no mind.

the group divided, the majority making a beeline to a building where music and guffaws resonated out into the once still night. chanyeol and junmyeon wandered down the main street, revealing more of the intimidating population. the island was swarmed with various inns, so junmyeon just chose the one most disjunct from the rest.

upon entering, you were thoroughly bewildered at the domestic scenery. various portraits of windjammers and fields of flowers filled the otherwise beige void, a clean cut boy stood behind the counter, offering a welcoming smile to you three.

“we would like to check out 5 rooms for the night.” junmyeon reached the counter, lifting the small bag of gold within his pockets.

“we only have 4 available,” the worker creased his brows in worry, perhaps feigning empathy for his job.

“that’ll do,” chanyeol responded, ushering you in front of him and pressing his hands into your shoulders. “two rooms will have three people, nothing we can’t overcome.” the boy handed junmyeon four keys and you proceeded to the tavern afterwards.

once you walked through the doors of the bar, you acknowledged how the crew was scattered about in different locations, sparking up conversation with various groups or individuals. junmyeon went over to yixing with a group of men who looked like undead fishermen due to how gaunt they appeared to be. chanyeol maneuvered you over to sehun and jongin talking to a trio of boys around the same age as them.

“chanyeol, this is Jackson, Jaebeom, and Jinyoung,” sehun introduced, the strangers nodding in greeting. “fellas, this chanyeol our captain, and (y/n).” chanyeol pulled a seat from a nearby table and sat you down in it, sitting beside you in the last remaining chair.

“they also have one link to an ancestor with them, like (y/n),” jongin explained, nudging Jinyoung beside him who cautiously revealed his wrist where a minuscule bird lied. “jinyoung, explain to them what you told us.” jinyoung sighed to himself and turned to the two new faces, already regretting accepting sehun and jongin into their table.

“you already know what ancestors are, correct?” he asked, to which the duo confirmed. “you should also know they procreate. their procreations are called descendants. they’re basically the equivalent to demigods in the fact that they lack the full extent of powers their parents harness.”

“what’s your power?” chanyeol asked, leaning more on the table in concentration.

“my father controls the winds of the Arctic. what people call the Katabatic winds. he distributes the cold from Antarctica to the warmer regions of the Earth.”

“what’s your power?”

“I can control simple gusts of wind. it helps with sailing.” chanyeol leaned back, nodding and rubbing at his jaw in thought.

“so you must be the descendant.” the center man, jaebeom, began. he quirked his head to you, scanning your body for any markings.

“it’s on the back of her neck.” sehun stated, leaning closer to you. he paused for a moment, waiting for your permission before lifting your hair and revealing your back. you heard someone choke on his rum, hacking away to dispose of the alcohol coating his throat. you turned to find it was jinyoung who was nearly dying. jaebeom patted jinyoung’s back to help clear his airways as the rest of you sat there, rendered silent through your befuddled stupor.

“that’s the symbol of Calliope,” he wheezed out, punching his chest. the confusion remained evident through you all.

“elaborate,” chanyeol demanded, gripping your forearm and pulling the appendage closer to him as if the name just uttered would cause you to dissipate into thin air. once jinyoung could breathe clearly again, he glanced at you nervously before directing his attention to chanyeol.

“she’s the ancestor of the seas, the counterpart to Poseidon.”

your brain remained muddled, eyebrows creased as you processed his words.

“what are you insinuating?” chanyeol’s voice changed, abandoning his usual commanding tone for one laced with concern. your hand was now clamped between his two larger ones, alleviating some of the anxiety bubbling within you at the excess of knowledge hitting you like a tsunami; one wave after another burying you beneath the weight of the ocean. breathing became an obstacle on its own, your lungs working double time to keep you afloat during your turmoil. you already assumed what his next words would be, yet you were still impacted by them when they came out.

“she is the daughter of Calliope,” your face paled, clutching chanyeol’s hand and biting the insides of your cheeks. “she is the Princess of the Ocean.” a sense of vertigo hit you and you slumped back against your chair, eyes glued to the mahogany of the table before you. you could vaguely make out sehun and jongin making sounds of wonderment at the news, asking more questions to jinyoung.

sensing your inner conflict, chanyeol shifted towards you, one hand abandoning yours, opting to lie on your cheek. the other continued to hold your hand, thumb caressing your knuckles as he turned your head to face him.

“hey, hey, look at me,” he cooed to you, soft voice wading out to you and only you. he was blocking your surroundings, swarming you with only him. his voice, his touch, his scent, his gaze. you bit your lip and finally scraped the last bit of courage you had to meet his gaze. you were met with nothing but concern, his eyes darting over your features. “just breathe, focus on me, ignore everything.” he instructed to you, bringing your hand to his chest. almost subconsciously, you mimicked his breathing pattern: deep, heavy inhales and exhales. he continued shushing you, directing all your attention to him during your crisis.

time seemed to drag on infinitely as you finally began stabilizing. once he noticed you were calming down, he offered a lopsided grin, eyes sparkling with warmth and comfort; undeniable adoration. you felt yourself smiling as well, melting in his gaze and his touch. your mind tried screaming at you to gain some semblance of reasoning. you just met this man, what were you doing falling for someone so quickly? sure, you’ve never felt any sort of affection towards anyone but your mother and father, but this couldn’t have been too different to that. rather than a sense of familiarity you received from your parents, you were given something else from chanyeol; security. you felt safe around him, especially now. who could harm you when you’re in his presence? you felt like you were on cloud nine, like nothing could ever bring you down from this very moment where you were willingly drowning in your affections for him. yet fate just had to come and strike you down, taking the form of a baekhyun who slapped your back repeatedly through his excitement.

“(y/n), (y/n), you’ll never believe who I just met,” he let out in one breathe, bright and stretching across his features.

“wait what,” you turned around, still dazed from whatever trance you were locked in. stepping aside, baekhyun revealed a woman standing behind him. her expression was at first stoic until she met your confused stare with one of shock. just like that, your world crumbled around you again.

“mother?”

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

taglist: @serendibidibidis​ @mrinalexo

[athingofvikings]

So I got this “review” the other day on FFnet from a cowardly Guest, and to say that it’s an antisemitic shitshow is an understatement.  The thing is, however, for all of the bigotry on display, it’s literally nothing new. @captainlordauditor and I came up with Bingo Cards last year, and as a result of this person, @dischordant won Antisemitic Bingo.

So here’s the review itself, and my analysis, under the cut:

Text of the Review:

Alright, that's enough. I'm stopping here. Thanks, it's been a great ride, but I'm drawing the line at having Fishlegs spout psuedo-revanchist Zionist propaganda. The Palestinians have lived in the Zionist-occupied lands for thousands of years, and claims like this one—that the Jews originally lived there—are nothing but propaganda to legitimize the Zionist occupation and genocide. I kept reading, despite my better judgement, after chapter 63 and you admitting that you were Jewish on the hope that you weren't a Zionist, but now I see you spouting the same Zionist talking points that the Israelis do—as if that would excuse your massacres of Palestinians. 

 It's probably not your fault—you were lied to by your "rabbis"—but your ancestors weren't from Palestine. They were Europeans and Khazers who converted to a different religion, and were persecuted for it. I'm sorry for you, but you people of all people should know better than to persecute others. 

 So yeah. Great fic, and I love how you show Christian corruption for what it is, but I can tell that you're not going to do the same for Zionist propaganda, and so I'm going to stop reading here. It's a pity, really, that such a great and apparently liberal author supports genocidal fascists. I guess that's a lesson for the rest of us to learn from.

Now, there are multiple bits to this shitshow, but I’m going to focus on several bits.

First off, the historical revisionism with the Khazer Theory; this is a favorite in the US liberal scene as a way to force Israel to fit with the narrative that Israel is a White Colonialist Occupying Power; by denying the Jewish roots to the Levantine region and redefining us as White, they can delegitimize Israel and the Jewish connection.  

It’s a fancy bit of antisemitism that falls flat for several reasons; we have historical evidence of the Jewish diaspora, plus genetic evidence that the Ashkenazi Jews are more closely related to Levantine groups than they are to European groups.  And, on top of that, a majority of Israelis are from Jewish groups other than the Ashkenazi, who are most definitely not White and not European.  So they have to be ignored and erased to fit this narrative--and on top of that, they’re the victims of ethnic cleansing as well, and had to flee to Israel.

Secondly, I gotta love the scarequotes around “rabbi”, and how I “admitted” to being Jewish--as if that’s something to be ashamed of, or that simply repeating historical facts about the Roman conquest of Judea and the subsequent start of the Jewish diaspora in 132 CE is “psuedo-revanchist Zionist propaganda“!

Thirdly, I fucking hate this victim-blaming bullshit.  “You of all people should know better”?  Yeah, we know better than to unconditionally trust non-Jews at this point.  We’ve learned that no matter how well we assimilate, no matter how well we join in on non-Jewish societies, no matter how much we give up our heritage and identity, no matter how well we fight in non-Jewish wars--we will be cleansed.  That to give up and to try to appeal to humanity and decency just results in our deaths.  We learned that the only way we get to continue to live is if we fight for it, because even the great Savior of the Jewish People, the United States, as that country likes to falsely present itself, couldn’t be bothered to save Jewish lives during the Holocaust, although it made sure to take the credit afterwards!  (More military resources were spent rescuing art and dancing horses than were spent rescuing Holocaust victims). (EDIT: Link to a followup ask on this topic)

Does this excuse the treatment of the Palestinians?  NO.  But painting this as “you of all people should know better” is victim-blaming at its finest--telling the people who are the survivors of genocide and ethnic cleansing that they should not act in their own perceived protection against a hostile world.  

Fourthly, the repeated accusation of Palestinian genocide... this is at this point blood libel.  The Palestinian population is over 5 million and has never dropped below a 2% per annum growth rate in my lifetime.  There have been less than 20,000 deaths in the last 30 years between both sides of the conflict.  Is that good?  NO!  But is it a genocide?  NO!  

So, yeah, there is a lesson to be learned here--and that is that claims of “I’m not antisemitic, just antizionist!” is so often bullshit, where history itself has to be denied and rewritten because it doesn’t fit what these “antizionists” want it to be.

[impassive-aggressive]

it’s ZOIDS HEADCANON TIME

this all took me way longer to assemble into something coherent than I initially thought :V  BUT HERE IS PART 1:

ZOID BIOLOGY: All Zoids start off as Cores.  These need to be "incubated" in pools of highly metallic/nutrient-rich water that are common on Zi, and if left long enough will grow a body around them that's capable of moving about on its own.  New Cores come about via Zoids periodically budding new Cores and dumping them into pools to mature.  Wild Zoids are much smaller than man-made ones and of course don't have cockpits/pilot interfaces, etc.

Domesticated Zoids are the product of "genetic engineering", in that their Cores have been tampered with so that, when immersed in tanks of synthetic fluid, they grow bodies with cockpits and such.  (They can also be grown to a certain point and then plucked out of their maturation tanks and stuck into a pre-built body.)  They've been tweaked so that their Cores are bigger and can support larger bodies with more advanced weaponry, etc. but they're less intelligent/capable than wild Zoids were.  Their Cores are also "charged" like batteries, so they have a finite lifespan, although this can still be a couple centuries (or more, if the Zoid is taken care of).  As with any lifeform, excessive strain (forcing it to use/carry ludicrous amounts or types of weaponry LEENA), abuse, neglect, etc. can reduce this span considerably.  By contrast, wild Zoids would prey on and eat each other's Cores (or munch on also-metallic foliage) to keep themselves going.  Domesticated Zoids no longer need to eat, although all Zoids are hella territorial and naturally inclined to fight, which is why they make good war machines.  

Wild Zoids were common in the time of the Ancient Zoidians but vanishingly rare by the time CC rolled around and all but extinct by the time of NC0. Blaming the Death Saurer seems like a good idea here, so yeah.

ZOID EVE: Whereas most Zoid Cores grow bodies and crawl out of their birthing pools to go on their merry way, sometimes Things Happen and Cores fuse together.  When this happens it usually results in a) dead, malformed Cores or b) shambling monstrosity Zoids that usually don't live very long.  

However, in one particular instance it resulted in c) an entity with a weird, alien intelligence that continued to bud Cores off of itself, producing Zoids that were smarter and generally "better" than other wild Zoids.  The Ancient Zoidians discovered this and were puzzled by the gross, lumpy Core-mass entity but were also impressed by the quality Zoids it produced, and eventually a city sprang up around it.  They started calling the thing "Zoid Eve" and built a big woman statue over it to symbolize this, strung up with a bunch of wires and shit to channel its power to the growing city.  They also went ahead and tampered with Eve's basic Core-programming so that it'd start producing pilotable Zoids, because Zoidians are stupid and can't resist fucking around with everything they find.

Zoid Eve was initially seen as a scientific curiosity, and then by turns as a status symbol, a good-luck charm, a bringer of prosperity and good fortune, and eventually as a deity.  People began flocking to Eveopolis to reap the social benefits of living right next to God and to claim the Zoids it produced.  Disputes sprang up among different groups as to who was getting all these Zoids, with some groups claiming they were being cheated or overlooked in favor of others; these disputes escalated into physical attacks and then all-out war, with different factions squabbling over the right to claim more of the Eve-born Zoids.

In response to this, some neutral parties collaborated to produce the Eve Saurer, designed to basically terrify everyone into calming their tits.  It was created from an Eve-spawned Core and placed in a body so fuckoff huge and powerful that none of the warring factions could really hope to stand against it; it was also deliberately created without a pilot interface or any way to control it so that it couldn't be hijacked by any particular faction and used to force everyone else into submission.

This kind of worked insofar as the various factions tried to attack the Eve Saurer and were immediately slapped down for their efforts, but the Saurer had the unfortunate side effect of being infectiously aggressive so that it triggered insanely violent urges in most of the Zoids that came near it.  Since it only knew to respond to aggression with more aggression, it set off a feedback loop of rage that culminated in lots of people dying really fast.  The Zoidians were at last united in finding a way to stop the Eve Saurer, and deduced that the only way to accomplish this was to do something to Eve itself.  Some people were like "FUCK IT, JUST KILL EVE" and other people were like "holy shit calm down", so while the first group worked on building something that could destroy Eve the second group came up with a pair of scorpion Zoids that, individually, were less powerful than the Eve Death Saurer but marginally more controllable. 

Team Kill Eve deployed its contender, a massive aerial type armed with gravity weapons that should have been able to crush the Core-construct forming Zoid Eve, but it rebelled violently at being forced to take action against Eve, bucked control of its pilot and escorts, and wrecked a bunch of shit before fucking off into the wilderness.  Team Calm Your Tits, probably giving team Kill Eve disgusted looks from across the room, sent out its scorpion Zoids, which succeeded in holding the Death Saurer at bay long enough for them to power down Eve (namely, the big statue thing which was a conduit for her power), thus enabling them to halt the Death Saurer without killing every other Zoid on the planet.  Unfortunately the damage had already been done and Zi was left all but uninhabitable, so the Zoidians stowed their surviving Zoids for safekeeping and placed themselves and their Organoids in stasis, in the hopes that they would eventually be able to resume life in a safer world.

...but before this was done, team Kill Eve was like "nah, that was totally a good idea that we just executed poorly" so they stuck some programming mojo into a girl and her Organoid that would enable her to shut down Eve if the need ever came up.

ORGANOIDS: Organoids and Zoids arose from a common ancestor, and lived together in the wild for thousands of years.  Organoids would "tend" groups of wild Zoids for whom they acted as guards, lookouts and pack leaders; in exchange they get first dibs on the Cores of prey the Zoids took down, or of old/injured Zoids in the group that were ready to die anyway.  They would also use the Zoids' Cores to reproduce, sticking their cables into a freshly-budded Core to leave their "DNA" all over it, which would start a new Organoid forming.

When the first wave of human colonists came to Zi, they were aware of organoids but considered them just another part of the landscape to be overcome as they sought to capture and tame wild Zoids.  Organoids were undoubtedly dangerous, particularly because of how intelligent they were, but humans have a marked tendency to give no fucks about things like danger when there are Cool Things to be poked at, such as big robot animals that could help out around a growing settlement.  The humans had superior weaponry to pretty much anything else organoids had ever encountered before, and were more effective than any wild predator on Zi at repelling the protective organoids while they captured Zoids.

The first organoid to live peaceably with humans was a young individual whose burgeoning herd of Zoids was in danger of being eradicated entirely by predators; while wary of humans, it also noted that the Zoids under the humans' care were healthy and well-protected, and figured that hanging around the settlement might be worth a shot.  Since the organoid and its herd weren't causing any harm, the humans kept an eye on it but otherwise left it alone.  Both species being naturally sociable and curious, the organoid and the humans eventually started trying to interact and established a tentative sort of bond.  When the organoid started producing offspring, they were even more inclined to hang around the humans, who discovered that having teleporting psychic mechanical dinosaurs accompanying you on expeditions or keeping an eye out for threats while you tended the fields was kind of useful.  

Meanwhile, other organoids started copying the first one's example and hanging around the settlement; although naturally territorial, the organoids all forged an uneasy truce knowing that it was in everyone's best interest to play nice and keep reaping the benefits of living near humans.  More and more organoids were born in close contact with humans, and the two species became so accustomed to each other that pretty soon it was no big deal for them to live and work together as partners.  Once Zoids started being engineered to be larger and more powerful, the "domesticated" organoids would sort of naturally be drawn to certain ones and found that it was more efficient to devote their attention to a single large Zoid than to a whole group of smaller ones, particularly since that Zoid could serve as an energy source and a place to rear young, zealously protected by its human caretaker.  

While wild organoids were fairly small and drab-colored, those that grew up around humans became larger and more powerful, and the humans also kind of unconsciously selected for organoids that had bright, pretty colors.  AND THAT'S HOW WE GOT SHOW ORGANOIDS

Roughly as intelligent as humans, organoids tend to choose their partners based on personality traits and how well they mesh as individuals.  These partnerships grow and deepen over time, and once a pair is bonded it's very hard to find anything that can drive them apart short of death itself.  Losing a partner can be deeply traumatizing, as it is for anyone who loses a loved one, but it is possible to recover and forge a new bond, given enough time.  (Most humans/Zoidians don't generally live long enough to reach this point, but it has happened a time or two.)

Organoids communicate with mental bursts of imagery + emotion.  They don't have speech that utilizes words, although they may visualize written words or mentally "repeat" things that are spoken to them in the voice of whoever said them.  This includes names; although their human/Zoidian partner may assign them a word-name that the organoid recognizes as its own, the names they choose for themselves are represented by more images-and-feelings: the moons reflected in a lake while one contemplates the universe; elation during a spring day surrounded by wildflowers; the peace of solitude atop a cold mountain peak.  It may take a while for the organoid to find something it likes enough to choose as a name, and this may change subtly over time - or very radically following severe trauma.  They also tend to assign organoid-style names to their partners and Zoids.

When an organoid Core-bonds with a Zoid, it's reading/altering the Zoid's data via all the little cables it plugs into the surface of the Core, lending its superior computational capabilities to the Zoid's raw power and its pilot's intelligence and strategic abilities.  When all three are in sync, this results in a Zoid that's faster, stronger, more resilient and more powerful than others, often to a devastating degree.  Organoids can heal and evolve Zoids by "overwriting" parts of the Zoid's data to jump-start the repair process that would otherwise occur much more slowly, triggering accelerated cell growth that can result in near-instant healing or, in the case of evolution, an entirely different chassis. 

MOAR TO FOLLOW