#no horses were harmed in the making of this fanfiction

[the-owl-house-takes]

I absolutely hate the argument that Luz can be excused for her actions and people have no right to dislike her just because she’s neurodivergent. I struggled immensely in school both academically and socially in large to my own “neurodivergence”-can I just say I hate that word-but I was never so stupid as to think about bringing live animals and fireworks inside my school. The fact that Luz, the 14-year-old daughter of a veterinarian, saw a bunch of living, breathing animals and thought-‘yeah, I’m gonna use those as props! My book report is gonna be so cool! I surely can’t just use rubber snakes!’ Which probably why they were so damn aggressive! Because snakes only really bite and attack when they’re threatened, or stressed, or pissed off! Which really does not paint Luz as being a very caring or thoughtful person!

“But that’s the point! She needs to get better and she does!”-No she absolutely fucking does not. Instead of realizing that she can’t just run away and live in fantasy-land, the show again and again reaffirms that Luz can do no wrong, everybody else never should’ve felt angry about her reckless idiocy-because that’s what it is, idiocy-she gets to live out her little fantasy world and do whatever she wants. The way the show acts like the principal giving the summer camp pamphlet was some horrible evil thing, how could anyone do that? B I T CH LUZ IS FUCKING LUCKY that she weren’t expelled or arrested! She brought EXPLOSIVES WITH THE INTENT OF SETTING THEM OFF INSIDE A SCHOOL BUILDING. In an area of mass shoring fears and schools prohibiting anything can looks like or emulates(even if it is just a foam sword or something), Luz really should’ve just taken two seconds to think to at least leave the fireworks. Course at 14 I would think that a person who have the common sense for that to never be a thought.

And no, “neurodivergence” is not an excuse. It pains me when characters in media doing stupid shit and senseless(especially when it gets on the audience’s nerves) gets pinned on having autism or ADHD like it makes it okay, and that the character can’t be blamed or held accountable for it. Why do people hold those with these conditions to such low standards? When this happens, it feels like people are saying, “Yeah, this could’ve easily caused grievous bodily harm or death but they’ve got anxiety and autism, so we can’t be mad, they couldn’t possibly know better because they’re simply not on our level, they’re too stupid to understand!” Hell no. Stop giving excuses! The “I’m literally neurodivergent and a minor” attitude does not work in court!

And maybe if they understood this and actually challenged Luz on being very episodic on learning her lessons and that she did in fact run away to avoid consequences of her actions and reality won’t bend to her interests and she can’t treat everything like it’s a fanfiction instead of beating the dead horse with another dead horse about how Luz ““““helped”””” Belos when all she did was teach him one glyph and got used as bait by someone who she KNOWS tricked her. By that logic Lilith is just as responsible for Belos meeting the Collector as Luz is. Yeah she’s 14 but did it really have to stretch through the entirety of season 3?

Because season 3 is where I officially knew that Luz hadn’t learned a thing. The way the show frames the art teacher giving Luz the side eye like it’s wrong for her to distrust the kid who used the art supplies-that she probably paid out of pocket for-to infest the school with spiders and snakes and then would’ve blown it up if she hadn’t gotten sent to the principal’s office is so out of pocket. She has every right to view Luz with suspicion! People don’t tend to like others who make a mess in their areas with their stuff, shocker. I’ve already said a bit about the summer camp thing, but seriously, a summer camp that teaches teens about mortgages, how to manage a bank account and checkbook, do taxes, etc is literally the best thing Luz could’ve gotten out of that situation. She would’ve learned something many people complain wasn’t taught to them at a young age AND would’ve met people who she could easily befriended. Yeah, it’s boring and Luz probably would’ve checked out of the situation but it’s better than juvie! Also boring stuff is apart of life, it’s part of the way we can live the way we do because everything is easier said than done. Also with Camila, it’s a dumb retcon to have her not understand anime or Luz’s interests in Season 1 and 2 but a secret nerd who just got put down by the man in season 3. Like, Camila had to make a change with Luz, because 14 is not far from 18, and if Luz did do something stupid that ended up being a crime, she could very well be charged as an adult.

Then the whole ‘I just wanna be understood!’ Luz, honey, you’ve been surrounded by people who understand you and don’t get mad when you mess up, even if it’s spectacularly. Your girlfriend literally immediately told you she essentially wanted to spend the rest of her life by your side right after you got revealed as a liar which you promised you wouldn’t do anymore. Your best buds have always been on your side even when you’ve gone behind their backs. Your mom was sending you to that camp bc she had too, even though she originally believed it would expose you to kids with similar interests that could be befriended. And again, her hands were tied, because you were being reckless to the point of danger. But oh wait, it’s all okay now because you’re ‘understood’.

Not finding that happy balance where you can express yourself but not act like an idiot or endanger yourself and others, just some vague ‘understanding’ by an anonymous ‘them’. Do you mean everyone, all the time has to understand you the way Camila, Eda, King, Willow, Gus, Amity and Hunter do? Because that’s not how real life works.

And this isn’t a character hate-though I do hate the way Luz was finished-this is on the writers for not going through with the themes of Fantasy Vs. Reality they had going that could’ve taught Luz that balance and management; which in my personal opinion, would’ve been a better arc for a person with ADHD.

-

#the owl house #toh #character hate #toh critical #long post #I know anon said that this isn’t character hate #but cmon….

[safely-in-vhagars-belly]

Pillars of salt, pillars of sand (Aemond x oc, Aegon x oc) Chapter 4: A demented idea

CONCEPT: You were once a princess, now you are Aemond's prisoner. You are taken to King's Landing to bend the knee to Aegon.

WARNINGS FOR READING: This fanfiction is dark. It will contain themes as: Non-con, dub-con, dom/sub themes, murder, torture, blood, graphic descriptions of sex, graphic descriptions of murder and graphic description of torture. As well as animal abuse, war crimes, genocide, massmurder, sadism, power-abuse and incestious relationships, as well as intended murder, breeding kinks, mentions of non-con and sexual marital abuse. Warnings will be updated as the fic goes on.

(Told from Aemond's POV!)

Aemond’s pov.

I lock the door after she is safely inside and keep my eye on my grandsire. He wanted to have a talk, he said. He insulted me before, in front of the girl. He is likely furious that I fed Luc to Vhagar. He has always been more of a diplomat, sending letters instead of poison. Mending bridges instead of breaking necks.

He sits on his horse and gives me a long, calculated glare when his eyes take me in. I keep unmoved and unfazed. I do not let myself be intimidated by him. I am no longer a child. ‘’You have killed Lucerys.’’ He speaks through his teeth.

I give a nod, remembering Luc's delicious screams as he was chewed up. I also remember his sister crying and weeping. That, too, was satisfying. ‘’I fed him to Vhagar.’’ In a way, I killed him, and in a way, I did not. He killed himself by not bending the knee. All the bastards did.

Ser Otto Hightower, the hand of the king, is very displeased with me. ‘’How can you be so stupid, so blind? You’ve only lost one eye!" I sigh. Otto orders the carriage to start riding, and I hear someone slam on the carriage door from inside out. I smirk softly. Tire yourself out, little princess. Make this easy for us.

Of course, my grandsire is worried about the princess injuring herself. ‘’Was that the princess? Is there anything in the carriage that may cause her harm?’’ He asks me, as if I am supposed to keep track of what goes in and out of that carriage. What do I look like, an underfed peasant who reeks of fleas?

Yet these are my soldiers, and I must ask them their questions. I do my duties no matter how unpleasant. ‘’I do not know. Ser Stone.’’ One of the Kings guards rides up to us and greets me with a respectful nod. ‘’Is there anything in the carriage that may serve as a weapon for the princess?’’ I ask him sharply.

He shakes his head. ‘’No. We do not keep weapons in the royal private carriage. The princess is safe and secure.’’

I feel my lips curl into a smirk. She won't be getting away this time. ‘’Good. That is exactly what I wanted to hear. You may go.’’ I tell him. He takes off, guarding the left side of the carriage where Maella is likely throwing a tantrum in.

My grandsire rides closer to me, hissing in my ear. ‘’You will doom us all. You are a Kinslayer now. Have you forgotten what happens to those who kill their relatives?’’ My grandsire is a sane man. He does not believe those tales either. But others do. Others who might be useful to us.

I become annoyed, however. A pitiful side effect of whenever I am challenged or tested by annoying creatures that are unworthy of being alive. I care for my grandsire and my family. That is true.

He is just annoying me right now. ‘’What were you going to do with Rhaenyra? Isn't she also a relative to me and Aegon and my mother? He would be a kinslayer too, would he have killed Rhaenyra.’’ I point that out with a smirk.

We ride closer and closer to the castle, and finally, the princess stops fighting, and the banging stops, followed by quiet little sniffs that bring me unspeakably much joy. ‘’It is no matter, grandsire. The brat is gone, and we have the princess. Rhaenyra’s only girl. She will offer us much to see Maella returned unharmed.’’ Rhaenyra is a mother. She will want her baby girl back. Especially since we killed her son. The Black Queen will be mourning and furious. She will demand her daughter back. And we will demand that she bend the knee.

My grandsire is not convinced. ‘’So you hope.’’ His body moves with a big sigh as our horses enter the good neighborhoods of King's Landing. Merchants and rich travelers scurry aside for the carriage.

There is no point in scowling. ‘’So I know.’’ I assure him. Now that we have the little princess, we must discuss as to what to do with the brat. There are options.

We can sell her to a foreign market as a slave or we can kill her, we can also consider publicly executing her...

I am curious what kind of humiliating, painful end my grandsire is planning for that brat. ‘’What are your plans with her, grandsire? Aegon will do as you advise him.’’ As he commands him, is more likely, but I hold my tongue for now.

He sighs briefly, forgetting how I failed him and the realm today for just a brief moment. ‘’The princess is very popular and well-loved within the kingdom.’’ I feel my brows rise in surprise. That brat, loved? Popular, even? I scowl. She is a princess, of course she is well loved. Unlike any of my siblings, the smallfolk hates me and Aegon. They only like Helaena because she is not a threat to anyone or anything.

I don’t mind it that I don’t have their love. Love is fickle. Fear? Fear is the only reliable source to make sure those peasants obey.

Otto continues. ‘’Your brother’s popularity has greatly decreased. Our spies from Dorne to the North tell us of rebellions and uprising. Aegon must win back the love of the people before that happens.’’ and how will he do that?

Yet I reply coyly as if It makes sense to me.’I see.’’

His master plan is finally rolling off his tongue. ‘’The girl is unmarried. Aegon will take her as his wife.’’ I stop my horse so I can see if the old man is jesting or perhaps if he had too much sun today.

I scoff, laughing at his ridiculous proposal. ‘’Aegon? Another wife?’’ He will never take another wife. He hates being a husband, he hates being a father, and he hates being a king. He will never take a girl as rebellious and challenging as Maella into his bed. He will not wed her.

My grandsire is convinced that Aegon will obey now that he has made him king.‘’Yes. He will do his duties and marry the princess.’’ He has utmost faith in my brother. If only he showed me the same courtesy.

He does not know Aegon very well. Not the way that I do, at least.

He becomes annoyed with my smirk. ‘’Get that smirk of your lips, Aemond. He will do as I command him.’’ I do as he asks but with great effort. He really thinks that Aegon, whore-fucking acholist Aegon, the shittiest dad in the Seven Kingdoms, will take another wife? He is becoming senile. There is no other explanation. This does not make any sense.

It feels unfair, also. That whore is mine. I captured her, I set the trap, I had to wait for her useless little bum to show up and I had to drag her through King’s Landing. She is mine. If she is to be anyone’s wife, she should damn well be mine.

They once entertained the thought of making me her husband. Daemon objected, as did my own mother and my father. Mother did not want to lose any of her children to Rhaenyra’s spawns, and my father did not think me good enough to marry his precious granddaughter, his special little spoiled princess.

The words leave my mouth before I can stop them. ‘’Grandsire, make her my wife instead.’’

I picture her big scared eyes when I tell her that she will become mine for the remainder of her pathetic life. Maella is not as hideous as her siblings. I am not in love with her, but if she were my wife, it would be my duty to put a child inside her. It would be an activity I would certainly enjoy more than she would. With any luck, she won’t be knocked up the first few times, and I can have my fun with the brat, breeding her as is my duty as her husband until she gives me a child, and to breed her once more after that.

Otto is not a stupid man. He needs convincing as to why I should get Maella. ‘’Tell me why should I? You should not be rewarded with Maella."

Well, for starters... A girl as Maella will obey me blindly. She is terrified since I killed her little brother. When I tell her to kneel she falls for my knees and begs for my mercy. I just know she will. ‘’She is terrified of me, grandsire. She fears me. All good women fear their husbands, and Maella will obey me blindly and behave.’’ I tell him smugly. ‘’That little brat will be broken into the moment she is my wife, rest assured, I won't rest until I've consummated and done my duty to my kingdom and my house.’’ Which mean fucking that whore.

He sighs before eying the sky and looks back at me. We are nearing the castle. ‘’Or she will stab us in the back the first chance she gets.’’ unlikely. Maella will be broken.

I hiss. ‘’We won’t let her.’’ Simple as that. ‘’Aegon already has a wife. I don’t.’’ I keep my voice from whining. There is another reason why Aegon does not need a second wife.

My poor sister will wither away when Maella becomes her equal and her sister-wife. I will not allow that. My grandsire might be ruthless, but he cares for Helaena. ‘’What will Helaena think of this? This is the most demented idea you entertained yet-’ A sharp pain in my jaw shuts me up. I glare at Grandsire when he lowers his hand. The hand he just slapped me with. A pathetic little slap, but I am still insulted, nonetheless. ’

I glare at him. ‘’The only woman you’ll take to wife is Floris Baratheon. You are a mere spare, Aemond. You’ll never be entrusted with the care of the princess, never mind that you will be her equal. You will do your duty and marry Floris. You will give up your useless plans and ambitions. The princess will be your brother’s.’’ As everything always has. Everything has always been his.

I warn him before leaning in. ‘’The smallfolk won’t like this.’’

Otto is blind to the threats right in front of him. Of the peasants and the small folk. ‘’They will. Aegon the conqueror had two wives. So will his namesake.’’ I grumble, clutching the reins of the horse tightly at his words.

It is not enough that Aegon has my gorgeous sister. He will have my niece, too. He will fuck, kiss, perhaps let them fuck one another and what do I get as a thank you for delivering her to him, for killing one of our enemies? I get scolded and slapped and insulted.

Otto notices my anger and smiles when calmly patting my back. ‘’Still, I am impressed you captured her. You were also smart enough to kill the boy's dragon. It would have been too dangerous.’’ No it wouldn't have been. Arrax was toothless and stupid. A unbefitting dragon for an unbefitting bastard. I only killed Arrax to make Luc suffer even more in his final moments.

On the back of the dragon, I told him what I would do once we would land. He knew he was going to be a snack. And I told him, if he told his little sister, that she would take his place. He kept silent and protected her. I am not sure my siblings would have shown me the same courtesy. I think not, truth be told.

We love each other out of need. But we do not love each other out of love. We cling to one another to survive. It is what makes this all so tragic.

We arrive at the castle. I get off my horse once the carriage halts in the familiar courtyard and drag the princess out of the carriage by her long dark locks. She cries in pain as I bring her inside.

#house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #dark aemond targaryen #house of the dragon fanfiction #dark aemond targaryen x oc #Aemond targaryen #Aemond one eye fanfiction #Pillarsofsaltandsand #Aegon II Targaryen X OC #dark! #head the warnings #dubcon #possible triggering content #She/her reader #AFAB Reader #DarkFantasy #Possible noncon #Possible gore #Old work

[pebblysand]

i don't claim to have any novel, hot takes on this but i've been going through my 2023 tumblr archive to update my FAQs (linked in pinned post) and the sheer violence of those anons i was receiving last may from trans activists just for being a HP fan is baffling. it's funny how quickly you forget, or how you sit there and wonder if maybe, you overreacted a bit. in hindsight, i don't think i did. those were horrid.

i wrote a couple of pieces at the time (here and here) about how i felt these people (who send hate to strangers on the internet) were harming the cause, which to me, is very much stating the obvious. of course, they are harming the cause. you send people death threats for literally no reason and you sound insane, and thus cheapen the work of all and any activists out there who are supporting the same cause as you. that's how the right wins. by saying: look! these people are violent and insane! and getting away with harmful legislation to "combat" them.

but, i think what's interesting is that this isn't exclusive to trans rights. as we, on the left, have seen the right radicalise (and no, this is not only a US problem) there seems to be this tension that emerges in the question of: how do we react? because the fact of the matter is that whilst the act of sending strangers anonymous death threats on the internet is relatively harmless, the right has fallen into a habit of using increasingly violent methods to get their point across, some of which do work on the masses, the same way all authoritative governments work, by instilling fear.

and, i think, for a lot of people on the left (myself included) there is a real question as to whether we are ready to and/or should, be using similar methods. cancel culture and online death threats and all of these moralising exercises from people who claim a societal moral high ground, is an iteration of that. and, i believe that this is actually not an easy question to solve. because, just like on a playground, there are times when it is actually appropriate to hit back, there may be times where the use of violence and threats is justified. there are people who have been "cancelled" who... deserved it. JKR is probably first in line. and, i don't think that's a particularly shocking take.

i come from a country where most major societal advancements have been won through armed revolution and the spilling of blood, so i'm not someone who actually believes that peaceful protest will always get you where you want to be. sometimes, in the face of violence and oppression, violence has its place. and, i am not a trans person myself, but i can understand the outrage and anger you might feel as one, seeing the violence and the legislation out there, especially in certain american states, or in the uk. so, you see someone on the internet enjoying the work of someone who seems to be threatening your right to exist, and you want to respond in a way that is equally violent. i do see the logic. to be honest, when you look at the harm JKR is being accused of, sending death threats to people who enjoy her work may even seem tame.

at the same time, as i've said above, anyone with more than two brain cells can see that whatever these people are trying to do, aligning with the violence of the right and responding "in kind" is ridiculous. it's going nowhere. it's making other trans activists look crazy by association, because what the fuck are you doing sending death threats to people for writing fanfiction about a book? chill. get off your high horse and understand that we are all navigating the world in shades of grey. it goes beyond lunatic behaviour and is, again, reinforcing the right's legitimacy in imposing laws and sanctions that are preventing people from having basic human rights. just like when the right sends twitter death threats to and doxxes left-wing activists, we, on the left, look at them (rightfully) thinking they are insane and evil.

at the time this happened, i had a conversation with a friend of mine who basically said (i am paraphrasing) "don't use the words 'trans activist' to talk about these people. they are not trans activists, they are harming the cause, and it's hurting me to be grouped with them." so at the time, i didn't. but... i'm not going to lie, this comment really angered me and stuck with me, though. i didn't say anything at the time, because i was not in the mood to get into another argument (especially with a friend - and i kind of know you'll be reading this, and if you are, i'm sorry i didn't say these things to you at the time), but i felt like "hey, you're not on the receiving end of death threats from these people, you don't really get to tell me what to do."

and, now that time has passed, i think i know why i felt like that. because these people, sending death threats on the internet in support of this cause, are trans activists. not only do they identify as such, and act in favour and support of this cause, but also, i'm pretty sure i would agree with most of what they believe in. and, i think, for a lot of us on the left, it's very easy to distance ourselves from this violent fringe that has risen in the past few years, instead of looking at it for what it is, which is an active part of our political spectrum. i think distancing ourself from it helps us avoid the real question of: are we okay with using the right's methods to achieve our aims of protecting human rights?

obviously, in this debate, you also have to weigh in the fact that internet activism is a mostly fake. i'm pretty sure that beyond sending HP fans death threats on the internet, these people have, IRL, actually achieved nothing of substance in the fight for trans rights. which makes their existence and belonging to the movement even more frustrating because not only is their particular brand of activism harming other forms of left-wing activism, but it's not even a net positive. but they are part of this movement and i think recognising them as such is actually pretty important.

i say i don't have any novel takes on this debate because this is a recurring question for the left and it’s been so for decades, and i don't have a solution. i don't really know what my opinion is on these people and their methods, and i, too, am navigating shades of grey. there is a part of me that will always believe that the left should not, actually, respond in kind. ever. that we're better than that. but, should we be?

i think there are things that we believe in, and principles that we uphold, that do not and cannot support idiotic behaviour, such as sending strangers death threats on the internet, regardless of the fact that we are doing this to match the other side's energy. but, other types of more violent action? i don't know. i don't know where the line should be drawn. there is a difference between the potential, debatable legitimacy of armed revolution and, again, a fake form of internet activism which helps literally no one. but, i think we do need to recognise that these two ideas stem from the same root of matching the right blow for blow and using its methods to advance a cause. it is a form of activism, it's just not one that we like to think about.

#musings on nothing at all

[party-in-eldarya]

Mother Dear is anxious how to feed her hungry vampiric clan.

Forgot that precious frame:

Bbbbut Erika, remember HH's words:

it is not our job to judge them!

Yes. HH said that about vampires feeding of unwilling humans and back then Erika wasn't so shocked. Anyway, Nevra decides those good ol' days are gone, and vampires need to adapt and feed only on synth blood. Nice, but it's a pity he decided about it so late- it's been what, 7 years of peace? Srsly, whole ANE smells like it has been 1 year at most since that sacrifice, whole world is fresh and Guard is even more incompetent than ever.

Disgusting, but I kinda get her a bit, no? She has done it her whole life, her children has done this until they decided they run away, so it's obvious that Lady Vampire is reluctant about changing her ways. Sure, awful ways, harmful ways. But in HH's wise words "it is not our job to judge them!" so take that hand from your sword, Erika!

Anyway, Lady Vampire explain their situation: they are low on foor, cannot travel during night- because of crazy day-night Eldarya schedule AND wild familiars gone crazy, attacking them on sight. I know that it is serious situation, but we are talking about those animals:

Ok, those:

Surely, not only Karenn and Nevra were kung-fu fighting in Yaqut?No one was able to defend them against those birds? Me thinks that "old evil" aka sun diseases and lack of food would be enough, but Beemoov wanted to make Lance look cool again, so they had to use familiars.

However, Nevra is pretty cool here.

Orgelz (new leader of clan) is a distaster:

BTW, I use Eldarya wiki page when in any doubt. These are all dialogues I could find with 3 boys from this ep:

Beemoov doesn't hide their bias or wiki admins just gave up on this game? You decide!

Probably not intentional on Beemoov's side, but Humans win this round. Papa Charles was able to deduce where his daughter disappear thanks to old legends written in books. Meanwhile in Eldarya most tribes and races don't care abt written words, which, fair, during war... but even then, HH's book of "old times on Earth" was very...bias and shallow. And it was a book with stories for children, so... Yup, humans win here. Nevra's family started and kept on doing deals with the Order (probably not the one branch that Charles', Gardienne's father is part of). Nevra:

Listen. That horse is long dead, however I still have problems with how the ENTIRE race was portrayed in ANE. You know, the entire race, me and you who is reading that post. We all are greedy, cruel, immoral, and dangerous creatures, with v v v few redeeming values. Gardienne almost never protests when faeries claim those traits as exclusively ours, human. Even v inexperienced fanfiction writers know that BOTH sides of conflict should have some... flaws and good traits, to make characters less cartoony, but humans in ANE (sanz Gardienne thanks to her faelien blood) are bad ones, there is not one who could be a nice person. Edgar? Coward meant to die quickly. Ignatius? Again coward, morover tied to our evil father. Mother? Who cares, not Gardienne and deff not ANE writers.

It is simply annoying how they treat this story.

"It is not your job to judge them!!!"- HH.

Look, I know, I know- Mathieu's (and by proxy Gardienne's) reactions and repulsion is natural, but why they didn't react to HH's words earlier? Because the writer was too lazy to explore our MC's thoughts on her "friend"? Why whatever bullshit HH says ("Don't judge murderous vampire clan that feeds on innocent human blood") is totally accepted only for those characters acting shocked when they hear that murderous vampire clan feeds on innocent human blood?

Thanks to those lovely details playing ANE can cause you an aneurysm. It feels like whole 2nd season was written by 3 people who never shared their notes, and then later it was randomly pasted together. Unique.

#playing ane what a joy

[cripgineer]

Reply from: @xxcremesodafaygo4freexx in relation to this post.

I hope this doesn't subtract from your initial subject matter at hand, but I think Engie's caretaker thing stems from the fact that he is not only older than most mercs, but from the south. People really like to give him the "southern hospitality/gentility" stereotype. Even though he himself is a subversion of that trope, in fandom spaces ppl tend to latch onto stereotypes even when we think we aren't doing it.

I've read earlier tf2 fanfictions, several notable ones that feature Dell, and holy crap do they go the extra mile with cultural/racial stereotypes. I think we're in a better fanfic place than we were before, but there still needs to be some done about its current state. I think fanfic writers should dare to think outside the box when it comes to what we think we know about others. And just get info from real ppl sometimes, whether it be through writing or documentary

I have a tendency to ramble so I apologize for that, but I do agree with your sentiment and I think Dell is an interesting case that we could do much more with. I've never much seen him as the "caring" type at all, but I can understand in the fandom where the temptation might come from. It could be an aspect of his traits, but one we would have to dig deeper for. I don't know I've been writing about this shit lol

I mean yeah absolutely it’s not derailing at all- you can’t rlly talk about tf2 and characterization without getting into the fact that the main mercs were literally just- they were already stereotypes. Like, in the writing. But even the. The amount of stereotyping in fanwork in general is also like- awful. It’s a perfect shitstorm of your general “file down your character into a preexisting fandom dynamic box” and “harmful stereotypes about their race, ethnicity, and/or culture” it’s- grim. So you’re 100% right on that front.

And regard to your last paragraph yeah agreed. I don’t doubt about like- caring side and stuff. You have to give a shit about your team on some level if you’re willing to spend your last 72 hours alive to try and make a cure for the rest of your them including yourself. I just wish there was more- versatility with it. Why can’t pyro have a caring side. Or scout. Like a dog to a spooked/angry horse. You get what I mean.

#also I do have thoughts about how so much of the Texan politeness and the hospitality culture of the south is such. a complicated thing #especially in regard to engie characerization both in canon and in fanwork #but that’s a post for another day. one that can actually put thought into how much the us south’s culture on politeness and hospitality is #in a lot of ways inextricable from the violence that takes place to the marginalized people there #including nonwhite ppl; the working class; immigrants; disabled ppl; lgbtq ppl #etc etc etc #but that’s for another time #talkin tag #ask to tag #long post

[lucyandthepen]

i’m going to say this now because it was actually my birthday today and i got a really annoying comment on one of my fics and now i’m just EXTRA peeved bc someone went out of their damn way to ruin a nice day when they could’ve not said anything about whatever they were crying about.

I don’t care if you don’t agree that writing kpop fanfiction is something integral to the fandom experience. the scenarios and portrayals are 100% fictional. i don’t actually believe mark lee is a hot barista; i know very well that he’s out there doing something i know nothing about and that’s his fucking business LMAO i’m not pretending to know about his life or his deepest thoughts. but idols and celebrities always project images that cater to fandom generated content and idols are HIGHLY aware of this. they know their fans like to ship them in fics, so they do fanservice of a similar nature to fuel fandom generated content. there’s nothing inherently creepy about writing about / fantasizing about your in real life crush as long as you aren’t acting on your perversions out of turn either like … what are u talking about ???

i really don’t have to fucking sit here and prove anything but i’ve published a whole paper in an academic journal about the roles of RPF in fandom spaces and in the commercial side of kpop as well. i don’t have to fucking take the time to drag out all the research i’ve done just to tell someone who randomly came onto my blog from reading fucking jujutsu kaisen reader insert fanfiction (??????????????? like if you’re not into it, why the fuck are you here???) to go away and mind their own business.

it honestly appalls me that there are people in the world who are so desperate for an argument they’ll say shit about what other people like. the internet has become such a quick avenue for people to get on their moral high horses about issues that sincerely aren’t that deep. mark lee isn’t ever going to find my blog and be like dam this chick is wack like??? there is sincerely no harm in rpf as long as you’re aware of the fictional portrayals of people ??????? nothing is ever so deep???

the thing i can’t stand with these keyboard warriors is how they just don’t check their own logic either. as per my research back in my undergrad i know fanfiction in and of itself is highly contended because in the context of “respect” it attempts to undermine the author’s own work. thats actually why anne rice has a tendency to attack and dox her fans who write fanfiction — they’re breaking copyright law lmao. by that logic you’re also disrespecting gege akutami by sexualizing gojo satoru, and you’re also breaking some delicate copyright laws. double whammy. THAT i’ve also done quite a bit of research into!

but i’m never gonna make that point because that’d make me a hypocrite AND i like to do this amazing thing where i mind my own damn business!!!!!!!!!! like i don’t care???? the internet is a place where people in the same fandoms can meet and enjoy fan-generated content. stop trying to fucking dictate what other people do then tell them to “get help” as if there’s something ill with what we’re doing lol.

if you’re not comfortable with it, don’t read!!! it boggles me that you actually sat there fuming like “oh my god this random blog i’ve never heard of before has a story i just find disgusting im gonna say something as if what ill say will make them change their minds and repent!!!!”

there are a Lot Of Things i don’t like seeing but i just scroll! its so much easier than leaving an opinion no one fucking asked for. and if you have a problem with rpf, don’t just take it up with me — see your whole argument through and attack everyone who’s ever written rpf!

i’m just gonna say this one more time — if you don’t like what i’m putting out, don’t read. if you want to tell me something about how wrong i am or how badly i write — i don’t care. i don’t have to prove myself to anyone, and i’m not going to listen if i don’t agree, so don’t bother wasting both our times lmao.

lucy out.

[rookieloveskashi]

tagged by @sharingangirl (forever ago, sorry!!)

📷 What’s set as your phone’s lockscreen?

a cute fan art of baby team 7

🍫 Cheese or chocolate?

chocolate, all day

✨ Do you have any nicknames?

close close friends call me alycat.

🎵 Last song you listened to?

darling, i want to destroy you - afi

✏️ Have you ever written fanfiction?

noooooooo absolutely yes.

😏 Are you on discord?

yes but i'm 30 so i have no idea what i'm doing.

💛 Do you have any piercings?

1..2..3....10!

��� What do you think says the most about a person?

hmmmmm, i guess how they respond to hearing that they upset someone else. i've known too many people to immediately be defensive and completely disregard that even though they may not have meant any harm, they still caused it.

🍪 If you were a cookie, what kind would you be?

omg um something basic like a sugar cookie probably.

🐶 Are you more of a dog person or a cat person?

cat (sorry kakashi)

🎧 Headphones or earbuds?

earbuds

🌼 What’s the last thing you said out loud?

probably "oh shit."

🙃 What’s a weird fact that you know?

american $2 bills exist because they were (maybe still are?) used in betting on horse racing. the bets were/are in increments of 2 so it just made sense.

🦉 Are you a morning person or a night owl?

neither? let me sleep 😴

🧸 Favorite place to nap?

couch

🏳️‍🌈 Are you a member of the LGBTQIA+ community?

sure am!

🦋 Describe yourself in three words.

introverted, tidy, hopelessly romantic

👖 Jeans or sweatpants?

sweats

🥤 What’s your go-to Starbucks order?

iced caramel macchiato

🧡 A color you can’t stand?

um..... i don't think there's any i can't stand.

💎 What’s your most prized possession?

my old-ass ipod

☕ Coffee or tea?

coffee

🦖 Favorite extinct animal?

the saber-toothed tiger

🌙 How long have you been on tumblr?

active for about 5 months but i shamefully lurked for a few months before that.

🌴 Desert island item?

one of those water-purifying things? i think extreme campers have a device that makes water drinkable. (don't hold out much hope for me on the island, btw)

🐸 Describe your aesthetic.

i have no clue 🫣 probably just comfortable tbh.

🔮 What’s your dream job?

something low-risk; i couldn't handle being a doctor or anything. and i would say romance writer but i wouldn't want to turn something i love as a hobby into something i have to do to survive.

💙 Relationship status?

married last october. only about two months to my anniversary! 💍👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩

🌿 Describe your favorite outfit.

black tank top, black leggings, black ankle boots, lightweight denim button-up. (i swear it's cuter than it sounds)

🎤 Is there a song you know all the lyrics to?

very, very many

🤎 What color is your hair?

red

💌 Do you talk to yourself?

absolutely

💄 Do you wear makeup?

yes but only eyeshadow/eyeliner/mascara. someone pls teach me skincare and foundation like a real adult.

🌸 Best compliment you ever received?

my wife just told me i'm a great partner and i kind of melted so....

💞 @ your favorite blog.

favorite? oh honey that depends on my mood.

anyone is welcome to play!

#about me #tag game

[zios-stuff]

TRIGGER WARNING ⚠️⚠️: mention of suicide thoughs (not detailed)

A.n:this is something different from the things I usually right is a blur of a fic that I thought about. It's an alternative story of mad hatter from Alice in wonderland I don't know really how to describe it but yeah ....I'm sorry if it doesn't make sense it's the first time that I write something this freely

(Little dark Mad hatter point of view and the voices in his head)

The madness of the mad hatter

Me thinking like that in front of a mirror for fucks sake

I'm already insane why I have to search more to it

Why I wear hats so big

Why my hair is like this

Why I want to kill people that call me insane

In a world that nothing it is what it truly is and everything is what it isn't the suloution of killing is the most authentic people reaction that someone from the wonderland could never thought

most times when people are furious mad angry with someone here the last think they'll do is harm the person that the anger is from

Am I different from the others

Am I not insane enough

How that's possible I talk to my hats I I drink tea with a mouse and a rabbit I have a half birthday

She

She changed me the girl with the hair like the sun the most normal girl in this upside down world

I was like her once now I remember

A boy destined to be a professor or a doctor with rich parents, a nice house everything in his life painful in organized place and time

In 8:00 he will wake up

In 10:30 music class

In 1:00 English class

In 3:00 math class

In 4:00 how to behave

In6:00 horse riding

In...

Shut up

I hate time and I hate thinking that's stage of my life that wasn't me it was only a nightmare

That's is what mad hatter wanted the boy with brown hair to die accidentally and he would be able to escape from the nice life?

No from the perfection

It's not him

He is everywhere he doesn't belong in organized order he belongs here in this room with his red hair and ribbons everywhere around him even in his mind even in his heart

Why are you hurting ...you're were you belong

Why are you herring you never wanted the life that they design for you

-I don't feel sorry I don't want to go back

Then why do you have a human emotion, an emotion that doesn't suit in a upside down world because even the mad arent that mad

-What do you mean

Hatter why do you want to kill?

Why do you want to kill...even your self...?

A n:I am obsessed with Alice in wonderland and I have a brain riot so yeah I wanted to post this because I don't only right fanfiction with x reader so yeah if you want more let me know

#twisted wonderland #alice in wonderland #mad hatter #just words #just writing down my thoughts #just writing stuff

[sagaofstardustmkg]

the judge watched him. was it always your idea, he said, that if you did not speak you would not be recognized? | arianna | trial 6.6

The rattling starts again. 

Janelle has been quiet as her classmates chip away at the block that’s been placed in front of them, first chiseling it into a rough human shape and then carving out fine details that suggest specificity, motion, personality. She has little to contribute. Everyone knows there are no faeries in America. 

(Savageland, ironland, veined with magic and blood and gold.)

But Rya’s tongue flicked out to taste the air that carried the phrase Sonoran sandshadow. And Rya drew herself up into a seething figure-eight when Bo looked Janelle in the eye and laid out his accusation in neat, thorough bullet points. 

(There’s something of a surgeon about him, isn’t there? He is quite willing to take his knife to all the softest parts of a person but seldom wishes genuine harm in doing it. There is a distance there, even now, not just from his target but from himself. He is there but not-there. For all that he can see, for all that he can pierce into the raw pink inside of a person, there are things that remain closed to him. Holding a heart and knowing a heart are different things. 

Not that she has permitted herself to have an interest in either thing. Being held or being known. These are not for her. She gave up on them a long time ago.)

Janelle met his eye. She meets Fumie’s, too, flinty. Her face is otherwise motionless except for a slight upward tilt of the chin when Fumie begins to read. 

But Rya’s rattle rasps into motion. 

It sounds like the rustle of starving plants. Locust wings at sunset. The voice of an ancient desert where sane and reasoned men have screamed themselves to death for thousands of years.

“My sister has a name.”

Janelle says it evenly as she says everything else. Her eyes are half-lidded. 

The rattle continues.

“It’s Adelaide, and I’ll thank you to use it.”

One of her hands stretches out to rest on Rya’s coils, and the scales whisper against her palm. Her tone is patient but impenetrable.

“It’s true she ran away a long time ago. And it’s true she liked fairy stories. We both did. Every mixed-up little no-name girl likes a story where it turns out a mixed-up little no-name girl is the most special person in the world. I imagine you’re familiar with the feeling, Miss Fumie.“

Her fellow fanfiction conneisseur should understand that sentiment, she thinks. 

“’This world’s been bad to you, but there’s another world where everyone will love you. Your family that did wrong by you isn’t your real family. The people who don’t understand you don’t matter. There’s something so special inside you that its light would blind them if they saw. The longer you have to wait for it, the better it’ll be when it finally happens.’”

Her eyes drop briefly to her hands, toughened and scarred by years of horse-handling and weed-pulling and playing banjo. She has one joint that never healed right after she slammed it in a stable door. She damn near peeled the tip of every finger with her pocket-knife when she was learning to woodwork. 

“Nice story for a pair of foster kids without a mite of magic or social grace to split between them. We’d pretend ourselves into all the books, all the movies. We even made up our own story, after a while. Where we were stolen princesses from magic kingdoms, and we had secret powers, and once we found our way back home, we’d get ‘em back and everything would be right again. Forever.”

And she looks back up. 

“It’s a good story. And what you all are saying is a good story, too. I mean that. But it’s got holes you could snap an ankle steppin’ in.”

Her gaze alights on Nevros first.

“One, what exactly makes you think the sandshadows are faeries? Tell me. ‘cause if it’s just that they’re known to take people, I got bad news about near every boogieman across the globe, real or invented. They all take people.”

Then Fumie.

“Two, if the gate to Faerieland was so easy to find that Adelaide could do it at sixteen with no magic at all, why would I need to come here to get in? That old diary says the Sun Gate was trees. English trees, which would be non-native in the desert and stand out sore to anyone who knew anything about the environment. If she could just find it and walk through, why couldn’t I?”

Then Bo.

“Three.”

A pause. Something shifts in her eyes, but just for a second.

“Why haven’t you considered I just don’t have the feelings a person is supposed to? What if I’ve been fakin’ it this entire time, same as Miss Xueman, and all you saw is all there is? Why can’t that be true?”

#endgame #trial #arianna #submission

[actuallykiwi]

Once a Thief... Chapter 9: Speaking With Silence

After the long journey back across Skyrim to Riften, Cimber finally arrived at the city. She was still shivering from the snow that had drifted lightly across the land, and was relieved to see the Rift was a few degrees warmer, if still flurrying. As she walked through the streets, she found herself missing the humid, warm climate of Valenwood. Snow was rare, and really only happened in the northernmost part of her homeland. So being raised by the coastline, she was not a fan of the white stuff. 

As she entered the tombstone trapdoor, her thoughts kept circling around one phrase: where the end began. The words themselves seemed to echo ominously, a secret, hidden past behind them. And this woman, Karliah... who was she, really? Why had she murdered the Guildmaster and why was she just now resurfacing to come after Mercer? 

Cimber was still wrestling with these thoughts when she approached Mercer at his desk in the cistern. He was buried in parchment, clearly intensely focused on finding something. A vein was pulsing on his temple from either concentration, frustration, or both. He cleared his throat to acknowledge her presence and busied himself with the quill in his hand. “Did Gulum-Ei give up any information on our buyer?” 

She nodded and leaned slightly on the desk. “It took some.. convincing, but yes. He said Goldenglow was purchased by a ‘Karliah’.” 

Mercer dropped his quill and a blot of ink splashed across the side of the page. “Kar-? No, it.. it can’t be. I haven’t heard that name in decades..” His eyes widened and then narrowed in deep thought, a look of hatred flashing across his face. “This is grave news indeed. She’s someone I hoped to never cross paths with again.” 

Cimber considered him before standing up straight and settling into her thinking pose. “He also told me she was a murderer.” Mercer looked grim. “Karliah destroyed everything this Guild stood for. She murdered my predecessor in cold blood and betrayed us! After we discovered what she’d done, we spent months trying to track her down, but she just vanished.”

“So why is she coming back now after all this time?” she asked. Mercer sighed, “We were like partners. I went with her on every heist, we watched each other’s backs. I know her techniques, her skills... If she kills me, there’ll be no one left that could possibly catch her. If only we knew where she was...” 

“Gulum-Ei told me she said ‘Where the end began’...” His eyes widened again, and he finally looked up at her. “There’s only one place that could be. Where she murdered Gallus... a ruin called Snow Veil Sanctum...” He stood so abruptly that his chair made an awful screech against the stone before falling over with an echoed thud. “We have to go out there before she disappears again.” 

She blinked in surprise. “Wait, we?” Mercer was already shoving things into a bag and fastening his dwarven sword to his belt. “Yes. I’m going with you and together we’re going to kill her.” He spat the last 2 words between gritted teeth in an attempt to unsuccessfully hide his ferocity towards this woman. “Here’s your payment for Solitude. Now gather what you need quickly and let’s go.” He handed her the payment and went to wait for her. 

Seeing as she didn’t have much with her, she settled for her bow, quiver, dagger, and a small pouch on her belt. “You’re going on a heist with Mercer before me, lass? I’m a little hurt.” Brynjolf feigned offence as he approached her finishing up. “It’s... not exactly a heist-” Mercer cleared his throat loudly as he watched them. “I’ll tell you about it later.” She shrugged remorsefully and jogged over to the impatient Guildmaster, who was already climbing the ladder. 

He watched them go with a small flicker of suspicion. “He almost never leaves. Something’s going on...” 

Upon approaching the stables, Cimber was a little surprised to see Mercer veer off to the right towards the woods. He walked a distance before stopping, and let out a strange, eerie whistle that almost sounded like the call of a bird. A few moments later, a dark black horse trotted up to him, seeming to appear almost out of the shadows themselves. Mercer patted its neck and hopped on the dark leather saddle. “Get on.” She did as he said, climbing up behind him just before he whipped the reins and the horse took off at breakneck speed. 

She held onto his shoulders for dear life for what seemed to be hours before it finally slowed to a trot, just west of Windhelm. “It’s not much further now. I would appreciate it if you stopped crushing my shoulders.” He grunted and shook her off. “Sorry...” she muttered as she drew her hands back. If she didn’t like the flurry that’s been happening everywhere else, she hated the snow that fell here. They seemed to have reached the north at the tail end of a blizzard; the wind was bitter and sharp, the snow piled up on the road in large white mounds and came down from almost every direction, and poor Cimber was in fear she might fall off the saddle from shaking so hard. 

The rest of the ride was quiet aside from the soft crunching of the snow under the horse’s hooves and the wind whistling harshly. Finally, Mercer parked the horse on the side of the road and hopped down before her, turning to help his shivering companion down. Cimber’s legs ached from the ride and the cold, but she stood strong and ready for anything. Both blocking their faces from the wind, they began making their way down the slippery snowy slope until the ruins came into view. 

 It took her a moment to realize why Mercer suddenly drew his blade, until she saw another horse idling by some crumbling pillars. “We have to make sure she can’t get away!” He shouted over the wind, making his way to the unsuspecting steed. Before he could take its life, however, she bolted past him and gave it a hard hit to the flank. The horse wasted no time dashing out into the storm, shortly out of sight. “We’re here to kill Karliah, not her horse.” She explained to a glaring Mercer. “It doesn’t matter. Let’s just get moving, I want to catch her while she’s distracted. Take the lead.” Cimber nodded and gladly made her way to the ruin entrance to get out of the storm. 

The door, however, was locked. “They say that these ancient Nordic burial mounds are sometimes impenetrable. This one doesn’t look too difficult.” Mercer stepped around her and fiddled with the lock, making sure to obscure her view. If Cimber wasn’t so focused on the mission and getting out of the cold, she would have questioned why he was hiding his lockpicking from her. But nonetheless, he finished, and the ancient door creaked open to let them in. 

Relief of finding warmth was quickly replaced by repulsion. Both thieves covered their noses and grimaced. “This place smells of death... Be on your guard.” Mercer said, muffled by his sleeve. Cimber unsheathed her bow and prepared for whatever was waiting for them. They moved forward, coming across a chest. Her inner thief prompted her to open it, and she helped herself. Until the sarcophagi in the room burst into life and the Draugr battles began. 

Once done with that (and a small scorning from Mercer),  they pressed on into a room full of dead Draugr. “Pull the chain over there, and watch out for the spikes. It looks like she’s reset all the traps.” He growled, and she maneuvered around the spiky swinging gate to the pull chain. When she did, the gate opened and the trap swung around, perfectly timed with the Draugr running up the stairs, who was then impaled and stuck to the trap gate. “Ouch.” Cimber grinned as she once again slid around it and they trekked on. 

There was a couple more fights and looting done before they came upon a room decorated in bone chimes. “Rigged to wake the Draugr, I bet. Don’t blunder into any of them.” Mercer whispered, whose blade was now dressed in crimson long-since-decayed blood. She carefully worked her way across the room, bending and ducking around the alarms that would alert the dead. Mercer followed closely behind. 

The pair pressed on through the catacombs, fighting some more undead but avoiding most. Even fighting the dead-come-to-life, Cimber couldn’t shake the oncoming dread they were about to face. She had so many questions, but she felt like everything was being rushed. She had been in this guild for only a week or so, but now she was deep beneath the earth in an ancient nordic tomb with the Guildmaster, hunting for a woman who had murdered the last one. 

She shook her head and focused on the task at hand. Thinking about this would have to come later. For now, she ran her hand across scorch marks along the stone walls as Mercer studied a recently re-tied tripwire. “We’re on the right track. She’s been through here as well.” 

A few more tough fights and navigating later, they came across a large empty hallway with an interesting door at the end. “Ah, it’s one of the famous Nordic puzzle doors. Hmph, without the matching claw, which I’m certain Karliah has done away with, they’re normally impossible to open. Fortunately, they have a weakness if you know how to exploit it...” He grinned and began working on it, once again blocking Cimber’s view. Before she could ask him why, though, there was a click, and the door spun once and slowly slid down, the grinding of stone-on-stone sending a chill down her spine. “Karliah’s close, I’m certain of it...” he muttered. 

Too close, unfortunately, for Cimber. Mercer stood back a bit as she stepped cautiously into the large chamber before them. She was halfway through turning around to look at him when she felt a sharp pain in her neck. Everything blurred, and she saw Mercer draw his blade before she collapsed to the ground. 

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

“...honestly think your arrow would reach me before my blade finds your heart?” Mercer’s voice was slightly distorted for a moment before she could open her eyes. Cimber couldn’t move, but she could vaguely make out the two figures before her: Mercer, his bright golden sword looking thirsty for more blood, and a small woman keeping her distance from him, whom she presumed was this Karliah. Her suspicions were confirmed when she spoke. “Give me a reason to try.” 

“You’re a clever girl, Karliah. Buying Goldenglow and funding Honningbrew Meadery was inspired.” 

“’To ensure an enemy’s defeat, you must first undermine his allies.’ It was the first lesson Gallus taught us.” 

“Hmph. You always were a quick study.” 

“Not quick enough. Otherwise, Gallus would still be alive...” Cimber could make out a slight crack in her voice at the mention of that name. 

“Gallus had his wealth and he had you. All he had to do was look the other way...” She couldn’t see his face, but she swore she could hear him grin. Was he the one who...?

“Did you forget the Oath we took as Nightingales? Did you expect him to simply ignore your methods?” 

“Enough of this mindless banter! Come Karliah, it’s time for you and Gallus to become reunited!” Mercer swung his sword menacingly as he lunged towards her, but Karliah downed a white vial and vanished into thin air. He looked around wildly for her as her voice reverberated around the room. “I’m no fool, Mercer. Crossing blades with you would be a death sentence. But I can promise the next time we meet, it will be your undoing...” 

Mercer roared in frustration before turning and seeing Cimber’s still figure on the floor. His dark chuckle echoed around her as he sauntered up to her. “How interesting... It appears Gallus’s history has repeated itself. Karliah has provided me with the means to be rid of you, and this ancient tomb becomes your final resting place. Just. Like. Him.” He grinned maniacally and crouched in front of her face. She glared up at him. “But you know what intrigues me the most? The fact that this was aaalll possible because of you.” He moved a lock of hair out of her face and she did her best to recoil away from him. It took all of her anger and newfound hatred for this man to muster up enough strength to say one phrase to him: “Becaush you could never do anyfing on your own, you cowardf!” 

Mercer laughed, and it was a laugh that would forever haunt Cimber’s mind if she survived this. He stood and raised his sword above her. “Farewell, Cimber! I’ll be certain to send Brynjolf your regards!”  

Cimber’s eyes widened in terror before the blade was driven through her body. There was a guttural cry of pain, and then silence, as the world faded to darkness. 

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#skyrim #writing #lovestory #no horses were harmed in the making of this fanfiction #fanfiction

[theminecraftbee]

Once the Joepacity slider is moved aaallllll the way to the very end, past the Jhost and everything else, Joe simply straight-up enters Spectator Mode. As we all may or may not know, Spectators can see through the eyes of non-Spectators. This is definitely certainly not at all related to Joe's habit of writing fanfiction about his fellow Hermits.

okay see i love this because this implies that the things that have happened in joe's hermitcraft fanfiction actually happened. that he spectator mode possessed people as, say, xisuma fought the giant horse head harm horse eldritch abominations that were making all of the hermits play the squid games along with baby yoda, who ate the horses. you are implying these are real events. things that happened. actual moments in hermitcraft canon -

#answered #dragonfruiteen #and that's just the one from season 8.

[onchyart]

Top 5 scenes which showed exactly how crooked Will Graham is too.

*shaking your hand* you are in a right place, hop in, and I will tell you a story

put “top 5” anything in my ask and i will answer ok go

To summarize if you are dont want to read the whole thing: Will Graham's awfulness is not Hannibal's fault. Will was not seduced by evil, he got liberated by it. Do you ever had a friend that pretty alright on their own, but getting instantly 10 times worse when they are in a company, they want to impress? That's Will, and in a s3, he doesn't even need Hannibal around

I will start with 5, to show escalation

5. 01/07 Sorbet

-Seems to me he was humiliating someone. -Yeah, he was humiliating Jack. -Did it work? -I'd say it worked really well.

We can recall that their first eye-to-eye interaction (first episode) got warm and personal because Hannibal covertly mocked Jack's perception of Will as something delicate and special. Here, Will, smiling and having a great time while they are discussing one of Jack's great losses, how effectively Ripper got to him. No sympathy spared for their mutual friend. Petty cruelty on display 4. 02/09 Shiizakana

-Your psychiatrist came to visit me at the hospital before my trial. -Dr. Du Maurier. -She told me she believed me. -She knew there were others like me. Did you kill her?

Okay, what do you do with the person who bravely boosted your confidence in your own mind while everyone else is just given up on your side of the story? Sell them out to the most dangerous man you know ofc. And all of this because you don't feel like a special boy anymore. Unchecked jealousy +petty cruelty+ harming innocent (as far as he knows) person

3. 03/02 Secondo

-Are you here to take someone from him? -If I were like Hannibal… I would've killed you already. Cooked you… ate you… and fed what was left of you to him.That's what he would do. -You've given that some thought.

Will is indirectly threatening a woman, he doesn't know, who's help he wants and who is living alone, without any support. Chiyoh knows how to handle herself, but what he is doing is unnecessary cruel and has no meaning beyond making her uncomfortable and on edge. Plus, to show how well he knows Hannibal (and she doesn't). Once again, unchecked jealousy + petty cruelty+ harassing innocent (as far as he knows) person.

Intermission + honorable mentions (it's important for later):

Will is trying to shoot the guy that crawls from inside a horse, not for Peter or Hannibal, but for his own sick pleasure.

Will is listening to Bedelia talk about "whimsy and having Hannibal confused in a dream", just to try to wake him up and tell the truth about how he feels (codependency and all that). Taking Hannibal's side above anyone who is trying to catch him

Will, while cornered,w/o even looking at Jack, confessing, how he wanted to run away with Hannibal. He could phone Jack and ask him to wait, so they could be together against our guy. But no, Jack goes without a warning and nearly dies, because Will is more comfortable betraying him than a serial killer, they were trying to catch this whole time.

Will is telling Alana to fuck off from the house she is grieving in, because he is busy with his imaginary friends.

Will saying "Good for Jack" with disdain when Alana tells him about the state of his friend, who was trying to save him from getting his head open.

2. 03/11 ...And the Beast from the Sea

-Jack Crawford, fisher of men, watching my cork move against the current. You got me again. Hannibal told me where to find him.He knows. He knows who the Dragon is. He probably treated him.

Okay, we established that Will did everything to make Jack suspicious of him. And now he is getting caught red-handed, conspiring with his boy best friend, keeping important stuff to himself. And Will is enjoying it too, covertly mocking Jack to his face. While writing fanfiction in real time about Hannibal and the Dragon's relationship. People are dying, Will. Unchecked jealousy + petty cruelty.

1.03/12 The Number of the Beast is 666

-Unless you have a professional voice to legitimize what you're saying.

-Someone to hide the wire on the snare. Are you volunteering?

WIll is very entertained by the motion of Alana getting mutilated by the Dragon (he had frightening hallucination a sec before about this very thing but now, it's okay, apparently). He will fuck over anyone if it is suitable enough for his purposes. He needs a pet to lure Dragon out. Big time cruelty+ harming (very much) innocent person.

Conclusion: it was hard to compress the whole thing in a top 5, because as much as Will is trying to help save people, he willingly became a person, who will harm the ones he is closest to, if he can get away with it. In Hannibal's presence he felt liberated enough to say some wild stuff, but s3 showed us, that he doesn't really need his favorite psychiatrist, he just wants him and everyone else can kick rocks. So, he and Hannibal, at their cores, are the same, selfish, cruel, petty, insecure creatures, whom I love.

#ask #thank you! #hannibal

[myopinionhi]

A Will Solace Character Analysis: the Underappreciated Soft Side

I've noticed many fanfictions have Will Solace OOC. So I’ve been thinking about aspects of Will’s personality fans seem to either gloss over or exaggerate. Here, this post is me doing an in-depth analysis explaining Will Solace’s canon personality in the books, and how it can sometimes differ from fanfictions. Sprinkled in this analysis are tips to fanfiction writers on how they write Will as more in-character.

There is one major aspect of Will that people seem to ignore or underemphasize. Nico best explains it when describing Will in this quote

Jason was a fighter. You could tell from the intensity of his stare, his constant alertness, the coiled-up energy in his frame. Will Solace was more like a lanky cat stretched out in sunshine. His movements were relaxed and nonthreatening, his gaze soft and far away. In his faded SURF BARBADOS T-shirt, his cutoff shorts and flip-flops, he looked about as aggressive as a demigod could get, but Nico knew he was brave under fire. During the Battle of Manhattan, Nico had seen him in action - the camp's best combat medic, risking his life to save wounded campers.

To sum it up, Will Solace is a very chill and calm character. A lot of writers make Will more irrational, impulsive, overbearing, and emotional than he actually is. Will is not the type of character to create drama unless he's, as Nico puts it, "under fire." In other words, the intense side of his personality doesn't come out unless the situation is urgent or dire.

Fans remember during the Second Giant War how he gets angry and argues with Nico over Nico's health and shadow-traveling, so many assume Will is going to be this fiery over a lot of other things regarding their relationship. For example, fanfic writers may make Will controlling or overly sensitive with Nico. However, keep in mind, Will gets heated with Nico during the Second Giant War because Nico's shadow-traveling is killing him. This is how Will describes Nico's dire state.

"Coach Hedge told me all about your shadow-travel. You can’t try that again."

"I just did try it again, Solace. I’m fine."

"No, you’re not. I’m a healer. I could feel the darkness in your hand as soon as I touched it. Even if you made it to that tent, you’d be in no shape to fight. But you wouldn’t make it. One more slip, and you won’t come back. You are not shadow-travelling. Doctor’s orders."

Will is a healer. When he touches Nico's hand, he can sense how little sleep and food Nico has been getting and how Nico's being taken over by darkness. Nico is on the verge of death and hasn't cared about his health for a long time. Nico is also stubborn about it, so Will has to be aggressive in order to save Nico's life. This aggressive behavior is not the norm for Will, but it can sometimes come out when he has to assert control in a life-or-death situation.

Will is a calming prescence. He's a diplomat. He stops violence on multiple occassions.

He's one of the few people who's able to calm Clarisse's violent rage, and he does so in a gentle manner.

Clarisse pointed her dagger at Rachel. "What about their allies, huh? Did you see that tribe of two-headed men that arrived yesterday? Or the glowing red dog-headed guys with the big poleaxes? They look pretty barbaric to me. It would’ve been nice if you’d foreseen any of that, if your Oracle power didn’t break down when we needed it most!"

Rachel’s face turned as red as her hair. "That’s hardly my fault. Something is wrong with Apollo’s gifts of prophecy. If I knew how to fix it –"

"She’s right." Will Solace, head counsellor for the Apollo cabin, put his hand gently on Clarisse’s wrist. Not many campers could’ve done that without getting stabbed, but Will had a way of defusing people’s anger. He got her to lower her dagger. "Everyone in our cabin has been affected. It’s not just Rachel."

One of the most underrated Will Solace moments is when he stops a bloody battle from happening between Camp Half-Blood and Camp Jupiter.  

But he knew it wouldn’t do any good. After weeks of waiting, agonizing and steaming, the Greeks and Romans wanted blood. Trying to stop the battle now would be like trying to push back a flood after the dam broke.

Will Solace saved the day.

He put his fingers in his mouth and did a taxicab whistle even more horrible than the last. Several Greeks dropped their swords. A ripple went through the Roman line like the entire First Cohort was shuddering.

"DON’T BE STUPID!" Will yelled. "LOOK!"

People are so used to seeing demigods, especially male demigods, being aggressive fighters that they can't wrap their heads around a brave and strong demigod who actively tries to avoid unnecessary conflict and destruction as much as he can.

And that's Will Solace's strength: he has the ability to prevent as much harm as possible.

Will is a difficult character to write. There's a lot of dueling factors with his personality. He's calm and pacifying while also being brave and assertive. He's fun and lighthearted while also being intelligent, logical, and grounded. He's laidback while also being responsible and hardworking. He's insecure but not melodramatic. He's very caring and protective but not pushy.

Will's personality confuses Nico sometimes too.

He’d always thought of Will as easygoing and laid back. Apparently he could also be stubborn and aggravating.

The trick to writing Will is to keep in mind his default personality is a soft and lighthearted character. Writers tend to overemphasize the hard side of his personality when his default personality is actually the soft side.

Think of the relaxing, lanky cat metaphor Nico uses for him. He and Nico bicker often, and it works for Will because he rolls with everything and doesn't take things too seriously. He's able to alleviate Nico's moodiness with humor, wittiness, groundedness, and patience. Nico affectionately calls Will a "dork" because Will usually keeps things light. Interestingly enough, he's able to be lighthearted without coming across as insensitive or an airheaded goofball, the latter of which is something Nico dislikes about Percy's personality. On a related sidenote, another way writers make Will OOC is they make him too dumb or too immature. I know I mentioned to focus on Will's soft side, but be careful to avoid that too. He's a SENSIBLE, lanky cat.

The way Will keeps his composure during a stressful situation by using laughter while still being mature is expressed well in this exchange with Apollo. (Yes, Will has a lot to manage.)

It was difficult to think of this young man as my son. He was so poised, so unassuming, so free of acne. He also didn’t appear to be awestruck in my presence. In fact, the corner of his mouth had started twitching.

“Are—are you amused?” I demanded.

Will shrugged. “Well, it’s either find this funny or freak out. My dad, the god Apollo, is a fifteen-year-old—”

“Sixteen,” I corrected. “Let’s go with sixteen.”

“A sixteen-year-old mortal, lying in a cot in my cabin, and with all my healing arts—which I got from you—I still can’t figure out how to fix you.”

“There is no fixing this,” I said miserably. “I am cast out of Olympus. My fate is tied to a girl named Meg. It could not be worse!”

Will laughed, which I thought took a great deal of gall. “Meg seems cool. She’s already poked Connor Stoll in the eyes and kicked Sherman Yang in the crotch.”

The fiercer side of Will's personality comes out only when the situation calls for it; this happens sometimes when he has to be a caring family member, a responsible healer, or a warrior in a dire situation. Even when he gets more forceful, he doesn't get more forceful than he has to.

Since Will has such a balanced and lighthearted personality, what are his flaws? What are the dark sides of his personality? There are four main things that stick out.

1. He's insecure about his self-perceived lack of abilities.

"I agree," Will said. "I wish I was a better archer … I wouldn’t mind shooting my Roman relative off his high horse. Actually, I wish I could use any of my father’s gifts to stop this war." He looked down at his own hands with distaste. "Unfortunately, I’m just a healer."

2. He sometimes struggles to endure the heavy responsibilities he has as a healer and as a protector to his family.

“I got it reattached,” Will told me, his voice shaky with exhaustion. His scrubs were speckled with blood. “I need somebody to keep him stable.”

I pointed to the woods. “But—”

“I know!” Will snapped. “Don’t you think I want to be out there searching too? We’re shorthanded for healers. There’s some salve and nectar in that pack. Go!”

I was stunned by his tone. I realized he was just as concerned about Kayla and Austin as I was. The only difference: Will knew his duty. He had to heal the injured first. And he needed my help.

3. He forces himself to bottle his emotions to keep his composure.

Will laughed under his breath. “I’m terrified. But one thing you learn as head counselor: you have to keep it together for everyone else. Let’s get you on your feet."

Here's a second example.

I rested my hand on Will’s shoulder. “Don’t worry. We’ll be back by dawn.”

His mouth trembled ever so slightly. “How can you be sure?”

4. He constantly worries about his loved ones.

Nico rested his hand on Will’s shoulder. “Apollo, we were worried. Will was especially.”

In conclusion, Will Solace's personality is difficult to get correct. But don't worry, if you write Will as a laidback, witty cat in your fanfics, I guarantee he'll be more in-character than many other fanfics with Will Solace.

(Note: I am only human. If you believe I'm misinterpreting some aspects of Will's personality, feel free to express it. What I say isn't 100 percent the right interpretation.)

#pjo #percy jackson and the olympians #will solace #nico di angelo #solangelo #percy jackson #heroes of olympus #trials of apollo #spoilers #meta #character analysis #fanfic #fanfiction #blood of olympus #hidden oracle #long post #toa #hoo #apollo

[yujateaandpi]

Oooooh, I just read your post about him knowing of his past in another timeline, and I know it may possibly have large and particularly harmful repercussions, but I almost feel as though that would be such a good counter-narrative to the one in the show. Even in this timeline I think it’d be really interesting to explore the idea that with his know-how he does still technically possess the means the grow into that thing (the no-where king), and this is a challenge that he overcomes with love and with his family, sort of maybe mirroring horse’s journey in the show. A part of him feeling like he must solely keep everyone safe, to make up for his actions in this other universe, and this arc being about re-affirmation of self strength by trusting others and building supportive relationships. It def sounds like a season two arc before they end the war in season three lmaooooo.

HAHA I love how there’s seasons to this plot. If the story were to ever expand, a confrontation with who he could have become would be incredibly interesting. I’m already posting a (non Inevitable War au) Centaurworld fanfiction on Ao3 and don’t have the energy to do another at the moment, but I might write up a loose outline incorporating these ideas!

#centaurworld #centaurworld au #inevitable war au #elktaur

[i-did]

Do you know when the racism and ableism accusations against Nora started? Because back when I was active in 2016/2017 and don't think they were a thing, or were very low-key. Was it something she said or are people just basing it off the things she wrote in the books?

From what I remember, the first time I heard the blanket statement of “Nora is racist/fetishizes gay men” blanket statement was early fall 2019 (which is so ironic for the fandom to say on so many levels lmao). There wasn’t a catalyst or anything, just she went offline 2016 and no new content was coming out and the aftg fandom is such an echo chamber that… an accidental smear campaign happened.

 Before then, I would see occasional “Nora used ableist slur” which… is funny (not that ableism isn’t serious) to me people care more about that than Seth saying the f-slur. IMO this is because with Seth, it clearly shows the character thinking it and not the author who is writing about what will be an end game mlm relationship. 

But anyways! Long story short, it's the fact that she’s an ace/aro woman who wrote a mlm book, and based off of the events in canon. There is no “Nora called me/someone else a slur” it’s “Nora wrote a book where slur(s) are used” and “the Moriyama’s are Japanese.”

Below I put my own opinion on these claims and go into more detail:

CW for discussions of: racism, ableism, mlm fetishization

Fetishization: (and mentions of sexism at the end)

To one question in the EC about her inspo for aftg she jokingly responded how she wanted to write about gay athletes. On other parts of your blog you could see she was a hockey fan and an overall sports fan (anime or otherwise) but I've seen this statement taken out of context and framed as “she's one of those BOYXBOY” shippers. Considering how… well-developed both Andrew and Neil’s relationship is, and it takes them until like the 3rd book and there is a whole complex ass plot going on around, you can see how that's just. Not really true. And considering the fandom is like… 85% women (queer women but still women) and I've gotten into a discussion with someone who is a woman and called Nora a fetishizer and was ignoring my opinions as a mlm, and I really just wanted to say “well what does that make you?” it's a very ironic high horse. She didn’t write 3 all 3 books to put Neil in lingerie pwp or crop-top fem-fatal fashion show, fandom did. 

Also, I talked to an ace/aro friend about this, and she talked to me about how AFTG spoke to her very much so as an ace/aro story. Neil is demisexual, Nora didn’t know of the word at the time of reading it, but she did get an anon asking if Neil was demi after, and she said “had to look it up, and yep, but he doesn't really think about it” (paraphrased). Obviously it would have been cool if andreil were canonly written as wlw by Nora instead, (which would have increased the amount of wlw rep and demi rep) but tbh I don’t think tumblr would have cared about it nearly as much and everyone would just call Neil a cold bitch–like people do with Nora’s other published book with a main character who's a woman. Plus they're her OC’s, not mine. 

The fact is that 50% of all LGBT+ rep in literature is mlm, mostly white mlm, and not written by mlm. I’m not going to hold her to a higher standard than everyone else, she already broke a shit ton of barriers in topics she discusses that otherwise get ignored. I’m grateful to these books for existing even if it's a mlm story written by a woman. I still will prioritize reading mlm written by mlm–and vice versa with wlw– in the way I prioritize reading stories about POC written by POC. But credit where credit is due, this is a very good story, and a very good demi story. 

Ableism:

To me, AFTG is a story about ableism and how we perceive some trauma survivors more worthy than others. Neil and the foxes using ableist language shows how people actually talk. Neil thinks shitty things about Andrew, like the others do too, and thinks he's “psycho”. The story ultimately deconstructs this idea and these perceptions of people. Wymack, someone who says the r-slur (which is still not known by the general population as a slur even in 2021 much less the early 2000s when the book was beginning to be written and what the timeline is based off of) is a character who understands Andrew better than most of the others do, and gives him the most sympathy and understanding despite using words like the m-slur and r-slur. Using these words isn't good, but it is how people talk, and this character talks. Wymack is a playful “name caller” especially when he’s mad, the foxes think Andrew is “crazy” and incapable of humanity and love because of it. They call his meds “antipsychotics” as an assumption and insult in a derogatory way, when really antipsychotics are a very helpful drug for some people who need them. Even Neil thinks these things about Andrew until he learns to care about him. All the foxes are hypocritical to am extent, as people in real life tend to be. Nora herself doesn’t use these or tweet them or something, her characters do to show aspects of their personality and opinions and how they change over time.

Racism:

As for the racism, I've seen people talk about how racial minorities being antagonists is inherently bad, which I think lacks nuance but overall isn't a harmful statement or belief. However, Nora herself said she wrote in the yakuza instead of another gang or mob because she was inspired for AFTG by sports anime, (which often queer-bait for a variety of reasons). I haven’t seen a textual analysis acknowledging the racist undertones surrounding the Moriyama’s as the few characters of color who are also major antagonists, but instead just “Nora is racist”. Wymack having shitty flame tribal tattoo’s is just… a huge 90’s thing and a part of his character design. Her having a character with bad taste in tattoo trends doesn’t mean she's racist. There is the whole how Nicky is handled thing, but that's a whole thing on it’s own. The fandom… really will write Nicky being all “ai ai muy spicy, jaja imma hit on my white–not annoying like me–boyfriend in Spanish. With my booty hole out and open for him ofc.” and as a Mexican mlm I’m like … damn alright. 

I think there is merit to the fact that she writes white as the default* and unless otherwise stated a POC a character was written with the intent to be white is another valid criticism, as well as the fact that the cast is largely white, but everything Nora is accused of I've seen the fandom do worse. That goes to the debate of, is actively writing stereotypes for POC more harmful than no representation at all? And personally I prefer the lack of established race line that lets me ignore Nora’s canon intent of characters to be white and come up with my own HC’s over the fandoms depictions of “zen monk Renee with dark past” “black best friend Matt who got over drugs but is a puppy dog” “ex stripper black Dan who dates Matt” vague tokenism. I HC many of the upperclassmen as POC and do my best to actively give thought behind it and have their own arcs that also avoids the fandom colorism spectrum of “darkest characters we HC go to the back and fandom favorites are in the front and are the lightest.” 

*I however won't criticize her harsher or more than… everyone else who still largely does this in fanfiction regarding AFTG as well as literature in general. This isn't a Nora thing, it's a societal thing, and considering the books came out in like 2014 I'm not gonna hold her to a higher standard than the rest of the world. She's just someone who wrote her personal OC’s and self-published expecting no following. I don’t know her race and I’m not gonna hold her to a higher standard than everyone else just because. 

The criticisms I've seen have always been… ironic IMO, and clearly I have a lot of thoughts on it. I think most people say those things about Nora because they heard them, and it's the woke thing to say and do and don’t critically analyze their actions or anything, but just accept them. 

#ask #aftg discorse #fandom culture #fandom politics #fandom psychology #mailob #damn cant wait for my words to be twisted lmao #sorry the ableism one is the shortest I wrote that one first actually

[ikeromantic]

Strength

An Ikesen Mitsuhide fanfiction, approx. 2000 words. This scene occurs toward the end of Ch. 12 in the romantic route.

First: Mitsuhide and the Maiden

Previous: The Greatest Harm

Mitsuhide found Motonari in gambling house, as expected, but at the promise of violence to come, he was easy to persuade.

“We’re gonna march on tha shogun tonight, huh? ‘Bout time. My gun is gettin’ rusty with all tha waiting!” Motonari walked beside the kitsune warlord, almost bouncing. “I can send my men over to get tha guns and powder in tha mornin’. It’ll take that long ta get there and set a camp. Too bad we can’t just rush tha castle an’ get tha party started tonight!”

It was strange to think the man genuinely enjoyed fighting. For Mitsuhide, battles and killing were a means to an end, but he never sought them out. Still, it was good at least that the pirate was on his side. He’d rather point this avatar of destruction at a target than to be the target.

“Yer awful quiet, fox. Get in a tiff with tha woman?” Mouri chuckled. “Can’t imagine why.”

Mitsuhide gave the pirate a thin, sharp smile. He couldn’t let the man goad him, not tonight. Not with so much on the line. “My little mouse is fine. It is not easy for her to stay here while I go to fight.”

“Huh. Ya sure that’s all?”

The man was too damn perceptive. But they said madmen often were. Mitsuhide chose to ignore the comment.

Kennyo was staying in a widow’s home at the edge of the market. Of course, Mitsuhide was not supposed to know that - but the abbot knew he knew, and his arrival should not overly alarm the demon monk.

He sped them in that direction. The sooner the three were on their way, the less chance to slip and break this fragile alliance. It had to hold until Ashikaga’s head left his body behind. That was what Mitsuhide focused on. Not the last look he’d shared with his little one. He couldn’t think about the tears in her eyes, or the way his heart felt torn in two when he considered leaving her behind.

“What are you doing here, kitsune?” Kennyo’s deep growl came from a shadowed walkway in front of a closed shop.

“Looking for you.”

The abbot stepped out into the moon’s silver glow. His scar was a black crevasse across his face, a crack in the universe through which hell could be seen. His eyes burned with a dark and lightless hate. “You came to betray me?”

“He came ta tell ya we’re leavin’! Time ta make tha shogun pay fer ruinin’ my fun.” Motonari put his hands on his hips and leaned back on his heels. “Ya comin’ er did ya decide ta tuck yer tail and go back ta prayin’?”

Kennyo growled, a low rumbled in his chest like distant thunder. “Demons do not pray, nor do good men pray for the deaths of others. If it is time, then let us go. In silence.”

Mitsuhide raised an eyebrow. “Do you need time to pack?”

“I have all my worldly possessions on me now. And what I need most is always to hand.” He tapped the bottom of his staff, and the dark street rang with the sound.

“Then I will meet you both at the edge of town when the moon touches the mountain tops.” Mitsuhide gave them a nod.

“Goin’ ta smooth things over with tha lady? Ya know if ya need some help, I -”

“Will be silent because your voice grates my nerves as surely as a stone in my sandal.” Kennyo interrupted Mouri with a grimace.

Mitsuhide gave the monk a look of gratitude before hurrying off to the inn.

His little one was gathering the last of his things when he arrived. And seemed in much better spirits. She even smiled as he came in, though there was still an edge of sadness to it. “Everything is packed and ready to go.”

“Good. Mouri will be sending people for the guns tomorrow. Be ready.”

“I will.”

There were a thousand things he wanted to say in that moment. Promises he couldn’t keep. Words of love that would only make it hurt more to be apart. Mitsuhide was good at speaking - when he was playing a role. When it was the truth of his own heart, he found it hard to put the feelings into words. He was no poet. Not like Yoshimoto.

His eyes went to the floor, where the letter had fallen. It wasn’t there anymore, but he spotted the creased paper soon enough. Sitting on the desk, open. Was that the reason for her mood? Had Yoshimoto’s poetries cheered her where he could only seem to make her cry?

In silence, he picked up his things and together, they went to saddle the horses. They, at least, seemed happy to finally be traveling somewhere. Being cooped up in the stables was hard on war-trained mounts.

“Can I come with you? As far as the meeting point?”

Mitsuhide nodded. “Of course.” He couldn’t help the bitter twist to his smile. “I wouldn’t deny you that.”

Neither of them said much on the ride through town. The air felt heavy, and it seemed wrong to push sound out into that darkness. Though unspoken words churned in his chest.

The chatelaine looked lost in thought as she rode. Her posture in the saddle, relaxed. Her eyes forward, looking at some distant point and trusting her mount to navigate the empty streets. It made Mitsuhide proud to see how far she’d come. How much she learned. He held back the compliment though, worried what other words would escape with it, should he speak.

Soon enough, they passed the city gates. The last of the dim torchlight fell behind them, and ahead lay only rolling fields and an endless expanse of stars. Mitsuhide felt lost in it. He had messed this up, as he’d known he would. Giving his love only tears. If Yoshimoto could make her smile with only words on a paper . . . perhaps . . .

The dark figures of Motonari and Kennyo took shape in the darkness ahead. Their horses stood in the field nearby, heads down and grazing. Mitsuhide stopped as they got close enough to make out their allies’ faces. He turned to his little one, feeling brittle like rusted iron. “This is as far as you may come. Turn your horse and go back to the inn.”

Not the parting words of a lover but right now he couldn’t trust himself to be himself. He needed this mask. The kitsune warlord, heartless and cold. It would hold him together. It had to.

“I will.”

Motonari scoffed. “Is that all yer gonna say? Ya know, in tha west they kiss to say goodbye. Ya should try it! Maybe slip her some tongue -”

“Keep your vulgar thoughts to yourself,” Kennyo rumbled. “Your bellowing is disturbing the horses.” He threw the pirate an icy glare. Without looking away from Mouri, he said, “Mitsuhide - we will go on ahead. Do not keep us waiting.” Then he grabbed Mouri’s arm and pulled him toward their mounts.

Mitsuhide didn’t know if he should be grateful or resentful of the courtesy. Now he was alone with his love, and his heart trembled near to shattering. Conflicting emotions tore at him. Jealousy and worry, love, anxiety, doubt . . . he couldn’t let any of it show.

His little one dismounted, beckoning for him to follow. Reluctantly, he did.

Her face was angelic in the starlight. Like a spirit. The silver moon shone in her eyes as she looked up at him. “Mitsuhide, I want you to have this.”

It was hard to look away from her beauty to see what she held. When he did, his eyes widened. “This -!” The bellflower hairpin. He felt stunned, frozen in place. What did this mean? Why? His gaze lifted to meet hers.

She reached for him with her empty hand and touched his cheek. “This is my prayer for victory. Kyubei told me that’s what it symbolizes.” She pressed it into his hand. “I want you to keep it with you while we are apart. Don’t lose it though! It’s my only precious bellflower.”

Her smile was radiant.

“You are a wonder.” Mitsuhide could not stop a tear escaping his eyes, but she wiped it away with her thumb before it could fall. “I thought . . . I thought you would wish me goodbye in tears. Or -” Or tell him she’d had enough of this life, that the shadows around him were more than she could take.

His little mouse nodded. “I might have but I came to a few decisions about myself. Most importantly, that I’m tough enough to be by your side no matter what.”

He blinked. “You . . . decided that as you packed? And . . . read that letter?”

“Yep.” She laughed softly. “It’s funny, actually. I was beginning to doubt myself. I am not the kind of strong you are. I am not a warrior. But I am strong like me - you taught me that. To trust myself and my ideals.”

Her eyes were so warm, and Mitsuhide felt himself leaning into her touch.

“That letter from Yoshimoto reminded me of the things I’ve done. And all the lessons you taught me so that I could survive in this world. We make each other stronger.”

Mitsuhide put his arms around her, still holding the bellflower hairpin tightly. “All of that, you decided in such a short time, hm?”

She laughed again and nuzzled his chest. “It was already inside me, I’d just forgotten how to use it. And now I can access that strength when I need to.”

He stroked her hair, enjoying the closeness. His heartbeat was thundering in his chest, but the anxiety was fading. Leaving behind it only his love for her and the promise of a life together. How had he lost sight of that, even for a moment?

“I want you to remember your strength too. You don’t need to burn yourself out to protect me. Use your strength to fight your hardest. I will be here, waiting for you. Safe.”

Mitsuhide whispered her name into the night, full of his love for her. His heart in each syllable.

“Make sure you come back to me, Mitsuhide.”

His lips curled up in a genuine smile. “You surprised me again, little one.” He pulled away enough to see her expression. “Instead of tears, my weepy little mouse wishes me good fortune. With a smile like the sun.”

“Hey! Did you call me weepy?” Her laughter rang out, fierce and full of joy. “I’ll make you weep for that!”

“Mmm, and it is that fiery tongue and heart that never breaks that made me fall in love with you. Thank you for reminding me.” He tucked the bellflower beneath his armor to keep it safe. Then lifted her hand to his lips to press a kiss to her wrist, feeling the beat of her heart through her warm skin. It matched the rhythm of his own.

She shivered at the touch and her cheeks pinked. A reaction he loved to see. It made him wish for homecoming sooner rather than later.

“You’ve shown me resolve, beloved. And as your future husband, I must show you I can do at least as much. I will return to you.”

His little one studied his face for a moment, her eyes bright. “I love you.”

“You should save those words for my return.” He felt his grin widen but he couldn’t help himself. “Because when I do, I will give you cause to say them so much that you grow tired of repeating yourself.”

He pulled her close once more, wanting to feel her warmth a little longer. Only knowing that Kennyo and Motonari stood a little ways off stopped him from doing more than holding her. “I promise you,” he said softly, his breath tickling her ear, “when I return, I will tease you mercilessly. I will tease you until all you can think of is my touch. And I still won’t stop . . .”

She took a deep, trembling breath. “I am looking forward to it. And you know . . . you aren’t the only one that can tease!” Then she stepped back. “I should let you leave. Good luck, Mitsuhide.”

His smile held his gratitude and love. With one last wave, he watched her mount her horse and turn back for the city gates.

“That’s one wide grin yer wearin’” Motonari chuckled as he approached. “Ya slipped her some -”

Kennyo’s growl cut him off before he could finish. “Speed and silence.”

“Yes, let’s not keep the shogun waiting,” Mitsuhide agreed. He should have been tired, but he felt full of vigor. This would not be easy - but he knew they could do it.

The three men mounted and rode into the night.

Next: Siege

#ikemen sengoku #ikesen mitsuhide #mitsuhide akechi #ikemen mitsuhide #otome guys #otome #fanfiction #fanfic #fluff #light angst