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ruinakete · 2 months

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A small letter could be find at the threshold of her rooms: it was finely decorated with handmade purplish flowers, with a very quirky drawing of what it seemed like a lizard-like creature - seemingly a wyvern - and at the center of the paper, a brief text written in a hasty calligraphy, almost as if she was in a hurry or as if she was very tense in writing this. The text was the following:

《 The glance you gave me that evening was fulminating: I was raptured by your words and your attention for the most amazing creatures among all animals - wyverns. You are like one of them: alluring, fleeting and majestic. 》

On the back of the letter, a signature; the Red Dragoon Knight [ wanted to send it as anonymous, but I couldn't ; v ; ]

NEVER HAD MAGE DRAGON ENTERED HER DEN WITH CAUTION, at least, not with the degree she held now; standing at the threshold with an unwavering, bland gaze, accentuated with emotion only by the arch of a brow. it could not be a student. there was a specific box she had set up outside her office for letters from students, as most were pity stories to twist at her heart until she lessened the strict drop of their grade; in which, none worked, and the repeated offers ceased whatever patience she held towards her pupils.

so, if not a student━━━or at least, a student who followed her manner of organization━━━then a fellow instructor or sister / brother of the church. possibly. most likely. she would have to waste away her time actually giving the letter her time of day. unfortunate but the promise of frequent downtime had not been in the admittance papers so she ought to not complain.

poised claws raise the letter to her face, lips pursed and throat humming a low grumble; the barest of factors announcing her minimal curiosity. on instinct, zephia's gaze had followed the spaces of the paper, singling out the presses of ink and their curved letters before registering the intricate, yet amusingly quirky decor of flowers and wyverns.

the letter was read in seconds.

the mage dragon's skin reddened after a minute.

she sighed, turning over the paper to divert her attention unto anything else━━━if not the signature placed carefully there. sangria eyes narrowed and her lips twitched into the beginnings of a grimace, a curt disgust so glaringly opposed to the abnormal heat rising to her neck and ears.

that evening? how utterly vague. she spoke to plenty this past week, not to exclude the many others who sought her out at different periods of the day.

You are like one of them: alluring, fleeting, and majestic.

as if she was not one of the closest beings to a pure-blooded wyvern!

the door to her room was slammed shut by her hand, given hardly a glance as zephia gripped onto the letter, half a mind to toss it into a fire. away and gone, it would be! but that only meant evidence of the stranger's advance would be destroyed... no, that wouldn't do. instead, after a trained breath, mage dragon carefully folded the letter and set it on her desk. though the stranger had an acute taste and a highly respectable eye for wyverns, their worship of her would be best in person rather than through ink.

another sigh. she turned from her desk, rubbing at her temple, "lord sombron, give me strength. to be fooled by a glance yet cower behind words... tsk."

#reddragonprincess #☽ ━━━━━━ ❝ the cruelty of a mother's greed ・【 𝐈𝐍 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑 】 .#☽ ━━━━━━ ❝ to appease the handmade goddess ・【 𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐃 】 .#dare i say that this is the best (?) way to make her flustered (?)? compare her to a wyvern? JAJAJEKMWMEKMWKMSDKMK #zephia vc you're a wyvern enthusiast. i like that in a partner #and yeah my anonymous asks are turned off because of past issues. i do turn them on for events though! sorry about that! orz #but no worries since zephia wouldn't think of minerva since she talks about wyverns to A Lot of people. her main topic besides her man #wanted to answer this before march for timeline reasons ^^ THANK YOU ARIIII!!! i need to reply to their event thread but :pleading:#i hope they get to go on a real date in the future. this will affect the trout population ( me ) and destroy a habitat ( my heart ).#though i don't know if zephia understands whether or not to be insulted flustered proud or exasperated. sorry try again in a century #oh but while i do think zephia is Feeling she's definitely seeing this as a coward's attempt at her heart and will have griss hunt t

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flockrest · 8 months

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eavesdropping, are we? / accepting / @gloryseized ( Link )

"Where did you hear this from."

The fledgling stills, blinking in unabashed nonplus, as though he had thrown out a complete non sequitur and not a perfectly reasonable question. The implications seem to seize Tulin by the wing a moment later, though; he suddenly ducks his head down, shying away from the boundary he's crossed with twiddling wingtips and averted eyes. Even so, he treads on its edges. "From you, Master Revali."

From him. Cheeky. He's never breathed a word of those thoughts, adjacent or otherwise, to anyone or anything that would be alive enough to actively divulge them. Tulin wouldn't have any way of knowing about the knight he asks after, if not for the journal that had been returned to Revali in his first few days of roost-ridden recuperation — safekept in his absence, he surmises, by Teba. The boy's father.

...It shouldn't rankle him this much. A century of presumed death and a fledgling too curious for his own good — or Revali's. All but confirmed when Tulin blurts, seemingly spurred by his silence, "Sorry! I'm sorry, I didn't— I didn't know you'd still be here."

He chuffs, not quite laughing nor scoffing. His feathers are no less ruffled for it, but therein lies the crux of everything. Nobody, really, was expecting their Champions to "be here". To come back. Perhaps this was only to be expected.

Revali doesn't owe anyone his honesty. He hadn't back then — and certainly doesn't now, when he still finds, at times, the beginnings of far bygone names forming on his tongue or strange waves of wistfulness for an existence better left behind washing over him.

"It wasn't difficult to dislike him," he allows, after a long stretch of folding everything back into himself.

Tulin perks up, Windlines beneath his wings once more.

"Speaking with him was often more trouble than it was worth."

The fledgling nods sagely. He says, with the air of someone simply repeating something he hasn't quite digested yet, "'It's like talking to a stone.'"

Revali smothers the sound swelling in his chest before it can pass his throat. Yes, he'd written something to that effect, hadn't he? That Tulin would recall such a line, supposedly verbatim — made all the better by the fact he hasn't made the connection yet, between this knight he naively slights and the one he's enthused at length over.

And why would he? Or any Rito, for that matter. The blasted aches in his wings flare as his thoughts stray towards them, reminding him: a century has passed for all of them. Link, from what he's garnered in the Hylian's recent visits, is no longer even a knight. With the way he fits so perfectly into a space he’s either carved for himself or the others have made for him here, sometime in his journey before defeating Calamity Ganon…to the flock — to this flock — he is no more nor less than just Link. Champion descendant, apparently ( and isn’t that ludicrous in an entirely different sense ), but that's about the furthest they dare to reach. Sometimes, Revali wants to guide those wings to the truth.

( Sometimes, he wants to break this rhythm Link has created with his people, if only to have someone flounder for fragments with him. )

"He was much like Link," Revali says, head turning away and tipping back to gaze at the skies, at nothing and everything.

He doesn't have to see him to know that Tulin's leaned in with widened eyes, his own head tilted to the side. "Like Link? Really?"

He doesn't repeat himself. The fledgling — as his equally tiny peers seem to like doing — always makes something of his silence, anyway.

"Link’s lots better though, right? Master Revali?"

He does laugh, then: a brief huff of something that might be amused. "Well, he's not any worse."

#gloryseized #( okay look i WAS gonna do monologue between rev.ali and vah me.doh but then looked at the prompt again and realised #there wouldn't be any describing it'd just be him airing feelings in a convoluted 'i'm not feeling this but if i WAS here's what i have to #say about it' way skfjldf so timeline where the champions survive and are eventually extracted from their beasts post-botw it is!!#a century of fermented feelings have just turned them way too Complicated and i hope i've conveyed that lskdfjdkf #in any case thanks for this hilary!! <3 i am always Unhinged about them )#* ode / ic.#* ode / answer.#* ic / para.#* v / songs in the headwind.#long post cw

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waywardsalt · 1 year

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drawing is difficult for me and writing is something i’m considerably better at sooooo…

written list of ideas i have for a humanoid design for bellum bc i think im finally zeroing in on something after a few uhhh years of brainstorming

(if you read this and have like. some ideas you want to share or some possible [constructive] criticisms go ahead and share them if you want)

Not actually properly humanoid; he can take on a fully human look but it isn’t his default and requires a bit more energy

Therefore, he usually lacks ears (they’re just. holes), finger or toe nails, a navel, an adam’s apple, or basically any kind of human detail that could be easily overlooked at first glance (maybe leaning into a bit uncanny?). He does have these traits when he actually puts the effort in to pass as human

The traits shared between his usual humanoid form and the more explicitly human form are: an eyepatch over his left eye (he doesn’t have a left eye or eye socket in either form. it’s like one-eyed willy in goonies), yellow hair (actually the same color as link’s), a lack of a nose (effectively like it’s been torn off, just leaving the nostril lines/openings), and a lot of large scars pretty much everywhere (some are just normal looking scars, like one across his face that looks like items from a wound that cost him his nose, while others vaguely resemble the markings on his body when he’s in demon/normal form), so either way he’s going to draw attention

In his usual form (more obviously nonhuman) his left eye is his usual black and orange eye, and he has sharp teeth, but he can switch those to appear more human if he’d like

He’s below the average height and appears to be only slightly muscular, logically more built for flexibility or with the build of a dancer, but his demonic strength remains, though his speed and flexibility is limited by the form he takes

His hair is a mess and mostly short, and if he’s in the more demonic-leaning human form, it’s usually got streaks of black (black is in there in some way, how it appears is still a wip) in all of the yellow

Clothing can vary but most commonly he chooses something loose and casual, he doesn’t particularly value his clothes and doesn’t really have anything to hide and so pick stuff that won’t drag him down or get snagged in a fight, flimsy loose clothes are good

Other times he’ll wear boots and gauntlets and gloves in a more serious context, usually opting for designs and materials similar to what he gives his phantoms, he doesn’t fully lean into the phantom-style of armor or fighting unless he needs to focus on defense, however

In either of his human forms, he’s still capable of fighting (and in his more demonic form he can use his tentacles, the come from his back), and doesn’t so much as have a fighting style as he generally just kills with whatever seems most convenient or entertaining at the time, ranging from creating a weapon for himself to use to just bashing a guy’s skull in with his bare hands

He’s very violent but can talk just fine and can be just about eloquent if he wants but usually leans into being more chaotic and acting the part of a brutal ruffian if the job can be completed using force, so a lot of the time he doesn’t even bother with looking explicitly human most of the time

He greatly prefers his demonic form and uses the human form for specific reasons, and can’t actually use it if he’s too weak

#bellum height is weird bc my idea of a tall/short ph realted character got skewed bad when i decided linebeck is 6’ 8”#now that im writing this out ive realized that im reasoning thst bellum’s human form looks the way it does to lure in prey yknow #he tries to look normal and friendly and unassuming and then he fucking kills you brutally or just by turning you to stone #it’s less like. gijinka or whatever and more just a form he can temporarily take if he wants and half of the time doesnt bother passing #he takes human form to more easily communicate or to directly get info from people or if he wants to do some brawling or whatever #timeline of humanoid bellum’s nose: went from vague nose shape to missing half the nose to just missing the whole nose #bellum having the same hair color as link is something i use to my advantage. he absolutely abuses looking related to link #im mostly having fun with his human design but it is something i need to figure out bc he does use it in a lot of my aus #this is a mess but its fine just wanted to share what ideas i have bc good lord this is hard #its harder to create a design for an existing nonhuman than to just whip one up for an oc obviously but still. man #listen unconsciously assigning 21st century schizoid man as my bellum song was good and bad at the same time #amazing vibes for this character fantastic now i have to work on the now-inherent prog/jazz rock vibes bc that doesnt fit the setting #also mixed dirty little animals in there so now we’ve got this crude and raucous scrappy demon who starts bar fights to bare-handedly kill #this kinda just turned into 'bellum w/ a human form headcanons' but ig its hard to talk abt visuals without. visuals #he changes depending on au cuz its the idea of like. immortal being learning from and adapting to their changing surroundings kinda thing #i think my personal fears abt this stuff is that then bellum comes off as v. like. edgy #also might be a bit of over-designing or whatever but idk???? accepting constructive criticism for a reason #loz #legend of zelda #phantom hourglass #bellum #salty talks #really putting this out there huh. ew. lol.#shoutouts to bellum's human form and my oc damien fletcher for finally getting somewhat stable designs after actual years

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shrack · 6 months

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loki doesnt want to be alone but he also wants his friends to be able to live their lives. he wants everyone to live so badly that he spends centuries learning high level science, repeats the end of the world over and over and watches his friends disappear constantly, refuses to let the world die because without the timeline, everyone would be alone. nobody would be anything. so he sacrifices living his life, he not only becomes the sacred timeline but turns it into something ever-growing, yggdrasil supports the universe and if he has to do it, if he has to be alone so that everyone can be together, than so be it. because, as mobius said: "most purpose is more burden than glory."

#i feel like im gonna be in the fucking trenches defending these finale choices #loki series #loki #......#lokius #throw that in there too

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astarions-wife · 5 months

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Okay so looking at the facts, Astarion says he was “one of Cazador’s first” spawn, which makes sense considering it was ~200 years prior, which puts this at 1294 for his turning. However he says “one of” which implies he wasn’t the very first, meaning one of his siblings was before him.

Through the game, we can rule out a few of his siblings as being first. Leon canonically has to be the last, as I doubt that Cazador brought another spawn into the mix during the last 10~ years. Leon has a human child, that he had prior to vampirism, and with both the favorite spawn ledger, and Victoria’s appearance, we can assume she’s likely between 8-10 in that general range. The favorite spawn ledger goes for (six) years, with Leon being 5/6, and Violet taking one year. This can easily imply he has only been a spawn for six years, and also says that given Victoria’s appearance, she was probably only 2-4 when brought to Cazador’s palace, but that’s a story for another time.

Pale Petra’s tells Dalyria in the inn that it’s been “a hundred years of eating rats”, so he was probably turned in the late 1300s, judging by this. Dalyria on the other hand was a physician to the Parliament of Baldur’s Gate, and given that the medical group she speaks of wasn’t founded until the early-ish 1400s, it’s likely that she was found during this time period.

This leaves three: Yousen, Violet, and Aurelia. Now I highly, highly doubt that Yousen was the first of the spawn. A gnome is an odd choice for a vampire spawn in the first place, so he likely wasn’t the first. This would leave Violet and Aurelia, although given one of my previous posts about Violet (found here), Violet likely wasn’t the first—the shadow curse was founded in the past hundred years if I’m not mistaken, and considering the evidence seems to lead her here, she was probably around the same time as Petra’s, perhaps a bit before.

This leaves Aurelia as the first spawn, which makes sense to me. She seems the most anxious, the most scared. She’s the only one who truly, truly begs you for help if you talk to her once Cazador is gone, and centuries of trauma would do that to anyone. Therefore, my ranking is as follows, in order:

-Aurelia

-Astarion

-Yousen

-Violet

-Pale Petras

-Dalyria

-Leon

I know their ages are different, but timeline wise this puts Leon as the youngest, and Aurelia as the oldest—which it doesn’t mean anything, but it’s interesting to think this, considering they’re the original two who are sent after Astarion at the Elfsong Tavern.

As always, this is completely in theory! Only a few of them have concrete evidence, so let me know if I’m missing anything—and feel free to use this for writing or lore as you see fit!

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sunderwight · 1 month

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SV AU where, while Luo Binghe is supposed to be in the Abyss, Shen Qingqiu comes across a hellhound puppy.

Now, there is an arc in PIDW where Luo Binghe became a hellhound. But it happened like at least a century out from where they are in the timeline, after Binghe had come into his full demonic power, and involved him turning into a slavering beast that eventually become a slavering man-beast (werewolf, basically) who could only be cured by having a lot of very questionable sex with his wives. Shen Yuan wrote a rant about how yet another potentially interesting transformation arc was instead reduced to porn tropes, but it was one of several dozen such rants across many similar story arcs. Airplane barely even remembers writing it because he was having a pretty shit week and just wanted to get the chapters out.

So it doesn't really occur to either him or Shang Qinghua that finding a hellhound puppy might be suspicious. Unexpected, sure, but demons are turning up all over the place all the time, really. And it's years before Luo Binghe is even supposed to be out of the Abyss, like a century before his hellhound transformation story, and when Binghe did turn into a hellhound his two forms consisted of a fully-grown beast and a fully-grown man-beast. Not a puppy.

Of course: that hellhound puppy is definitely Luo Binghe.

He unwittingly triggered this subplot early, and because he's still a young adult, he gets stuck in a juvenile puppy form because hellhounds don't reach fully maturity until they're like fifty.

Anyway, this creates something of a pickle for Luo Binghe, because he's legitimately stuck in this form and can't figure out how to change back. This is not part of his plans. He's fleeing from Huan Hua Palace cultivators who are trying to kill him, which they might succeed at because his Heavenly Demon powers don't seem to be working.

He runs right into Shizun, who is on one of his "investigate stuff to forget the depression" field trips with Liu Qingge.

Luo Binghe is fully expecting his righteous Shizun to kill the demonic beast, and has a moment to think that at least that's better than being killed by Huan Hua, before Shizun rescues him instead.

Shen Qingqiu, meanwhile, is actually kind of excited. There was a lot of lore in PIDW about how hellhounds can actually make loyal companions if they're trained up from young enough of an age, but finding hellhound puppies would be difficult for anyone who wasn't a demonic nobleman, and most of the "trained" hellhounds just disappeared into the harem as gifts to various demon wives and were never seen or heard from again. No additional information, like the full extent of their abilities or what kind of companions they made beyond "loyal" or anything! A species of demon that could even potentially be domesticated by humans, and it was just left at that?!

Needless to say, Shen Qingqiu's not letting Huan Hua Palace kill this one. This is a rare chance for him to get a cool monster companion!

Although... such a creature might die when Luo Binghe comes to take his revenge.

Well, he'll deal with that when he has a chance. Maybe Shang Qinghua can take it to Mobei Jun or Shen Qingqiu can find another place for it before then. In the meanwhile, at least going back to Qing Jing Peak with him is better than being killed on the spot. He talks Liu Qingge into going along with it (Liu Qingge thinks he's insane but also folds like wet tissue paper), under stipulation that the hellhound's demonic energies are sealed and it gets muzzled before they bring it back with them.

Shen Qingqiu rides with it in a carriage, and feels so bad for the poor doggo looking miserable without his demon powers or even his mouth free that he secretly takes the muzzle back off while Liu Qingge isn't looking.

Luo Binghe is overwhelmed with the mixed sentiments of confusion (doesn't his shizun hate demons? is a Heavenly Demon really so especially repulsive to him?), happiness (he's going home! Shizun found him and is taking him home!), worry (Shizun please do not un-muzzle random demonic beasts just because they look sad!), and some rather embarrassing personal revelations about the appeal of being Shizun's pet. The latter situation worsens exponentially after the first time he gets good boy'd and petted for the first time.

Regardless, Shen Qingqiu does take him back to Qing Jing Peak and settles in to train and observe his new puppy. No one thinks this is precisely a good project but it is a project, and is not for instance "staring blankly into the distance while kneeling in front of a sword mound", so on balance everyone decides they'll just keep an eye on things and make sure the hellhound doesn't maul the peak lord. Lots of "just dropping in for a visits" by a rotating cast of peak lords (they have a schedule).

But the hellhound puppy is a fabulous pet! Actually, Shen Qingqiu thinks it's really remarkable how smart and readily tamed he is? Barely a few days in and he's obediently following Shizun's commands, except for "stay", which he seems to struggle with. He doesn't maul or threaten any of the disciples, only growls at Shang Qinghua sometimes and makes a few aggressive displays at Liu Qingge. The former case is just good taste, and as to the latter, well, clearly the hellhound is sensitive and intelligent, and has a more-than-rudamentary understanding of words spoken to him. He probably remembers that Liu Qingge wanted to kill him when they first met. Shen Qingqiu takes his time soothing his puppy and assuring him that he won't come to any harm, he's perfectly safe on Qing Jing Peak with Shen Qingqiu.

At least, for now.

Although actually, the more Shen Qingqiu thinks about it, the more convinced he becomes that Hellhound (sue him, he's not the best with names) would be a perfect companion for Luo Binghe once he gets out of the Abyss. The only difficulty would be in how to convince Binghe to accept him, and also how to keep his now-loyal hound from trying to defend his master when justice comes due. Shen Qingqiu figures he'll cross that bridge when he comes to it, and in the meanwhile takes some time to explain to Hellhound about his disciple, Luo Binghe, who is enduring a terrible trial in the Abyss, but who will return one day having become Emperor of the Demon Realms and could probably use a steadfast and intelligent companion who is interested in more than just his incredible amounts of power or irresistible good looks.

Luo Binghe Himself: ?!?!?!

#svsss #bingqiu #scum villain #scum villain's self saving system #long post #lbh: either shizun doesn't know it's me and I have badly misunderstood his intentions in throwing me into the abyss #or shizun DOES know it's me and is lying but also letting me lick his face and sleep on his bed #...much to think about

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jedi-starbird · 4 months

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A happier galaxy where the disaster lineage is somewhat less on fire constantly and senior padawan Obi-wan has developed a fixation on Mandalorians:

Sometimes Feemor regretted just how much he had given away when he had spent 5 expensive months bribing a traumatised Obi-wan to call him brother when he was 14. His dignity, for one, his access codes and shadow cloaking techniques, another. So he had a very dignified reaction when he was awoken to the shine of his younger brother's eyes in the dark at the foot of his bed. "I wou-stop screaming it's just me-I would like a Mandalorian. How do I procure one?"

"How the fuck should I know?"

Obi-wan scowled as if Feemor was being difficult, he wasn't, he wasn't quite awake enough for that yet. "You're a shadow, you're supposed to know things."

Ah, if being a shadow granted you the secrets of the universe instead of just a great many planetary governments, Feemor wouldn't spend so much time wondering what dark rituals Dooku had committed to result in Qui-gon Jinn. (He already knew what regular rituals Qui-gon had committed to result in Obi-wan)

"I know that I'm about to punt you out of my room right now."

"...My birthday is coming up, I believe I deserve compensation for all the traumas."

Obi-wan's eyes were very big now. Feemor sighed. He flopped back down into bed. He resisted the urge to pull his blankets back up and roll over. 'Oh sure when it's time to see mind healers everything's fine but now-'

"Shouldn't you be asking Master then?"

"Master would not approve of how I plan to use the Mandalorian."

He squinted at Obi-wan for a long moment. Obi-wan stared back. He did some quick mental maths and tried not to feel old. Eh. Fine. Feemor swung his legs out of bed. "You had me at 'Master wouldn't approve'."

"Do you think I could get one by walking into little Keldabe and asking very nicely?"

As it turns out, yes he could. A few too many in fact, apparently Jedi, their ancestral enemy, in the Mando district attracted attention, who knew? Feemor knew, Feemor would have known if only he had been properly awake when this semblence of a plan was proposed. He stalked through the cantina towards Obi-wan who was leaning slightly forwards against a pillar, ah...speaking, to a Mandalorian with painted orange armour while surrounded by a larger crowd of Mandos. At least they seem mostly amused. He ignored the youngers squawk as he yanked the back of his robes so that he moved away from the Mandalorian and spun him around.

"You cannot solve centuries of animosity by batting your eyelashes."

"I'm not batting my eyelashes " Obi-wan sniffed," I'm shaking my ass, there's decidedly more effort involved."

"I miss when I was an only child." Feemor sighed deeply. He used the force to scruff the neck of Obi-wan's robes and dangle him slightly in the air. He ignored the shouting from beside him and bowed politely to the staring Mandos. "My apologies for the disturbance, this will not happ-" He considered his brother who was now yelling out his personal comm code with a wink. " Please excuse us, this very probably will happen again, we shall workshop it. May the force be with you all."

I don't have a fully planned AU but it is Codywan!!! cause I love those bitches but have some more dialogue I came up with for this AU. I'm imagining them both as like 20-23, Obi's close to knighthood. He's still a padawan for this because I think him causing Qui-gon headaches is funny. Feemor fully thinks this complicated courtship dance Obi's created is funny, he likes studying his little brother like a bug, he just wasn't prepared for him to just waltz into little kelbade and start hitting on people, though he really should have been.

Hand wavy timeline with Jaster alive but the clones are still clones, Jango was kidnapped and held in stasis or something, Jaster claimed them as Mandos. This is really just about Obi's first and biggest diplomatic achivement being friendly Jedi-Mando relations purely cause he was in his thot era. This also somehow saves the galaxy from the sith.

I like to imagine that Cody's brothers recorded that little exchange between Fee and Obi on their helmets and uploaded it online where it went viral on MandoNet before going viral galaxywide because wait holy shit is that a Jedi saying that????. Qui-gon gets called in for a very weird meeting where the council's like ok so the entire holonet has seen your padawan being horny on main but also this is like the biggest jump in our diplomatic relationship with the Mandos in centuries so like can we keep this up somehow? This results in Obi-wan being holonet famous, first through vode recordings but then he starts a space tumblr and twitter account and he's famous now. Then his friends and other jedi start accounts because wait we're allowed to do that? and those become big as well and this is literally the best PR the jedi have had in hundreds of years. the holonet loves them. the sith are fuming.

Obi-wan, scoffing: What were they gonna do? Shoot me? Feemor: Yes. Obi-wan: I don't believe in blasters. Bly: ...like as a concept...? Obi-wan: No, spiritually.

Obi-wan: I'm sure there's a nice Mandalorian we can find for you Feemor: I'm not sure those 2 words belong together Obi-wan: No of course not, we can't find a nice one, then they'd be all alone, we need to find an absolute bastard of one so that you two match :)

Obi-wan: Oh so Master gets to take in pathetic life forms but I don't? This one's already domesticated! Wolffe: Debatable. Feemor: Cody's a person! Not a stray tooka! Obi-wan: Master takes in stray people all the time! That's how he got me!

Qui-gon: How do you explain this behaviour Padawan ? Obi-wan: The force pushed me towards the Mandalorians Master, it was quite insistent on me developing better relations with them given our difficult history. Feemor: Fascinating, please do elaborate, I'd love to hear the theological implications of a force-assigned kink.

#yes i will put jedi on social media into everything #i think early 20s menace obi wan with equally menace cody is so good #cody looks at this ginger twink and is like oh theres definitely something wrong with him but he amuses me so hes allowed to stay #cody: obi wan has 57 mental illnesses and is banned from most public spaces how can i not fuck him?#star wars #obi wan kenobi #feemor #codywan #commander cody #feemor and obi wan #jedi order #disaster lineage #star wars fic

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upsidedownwithsteve · 2 months

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A soulmate AU: Steve Harrington x fem!reader [2.6K]

THE TIMELINE

“Love is born into every human being; it calls back the halves of our original nature together; it tries to make one out of two and heal the wound of human nature. Each of us, then, is a ‘matching half’ of a human whole…and each of us is always seeking the half that matches him.”

- Aristophanes, Plato��s Symposium.

I. ATHENS, GREECE: 8TH CENTURY BC

The gods were angry.

Or so you’d heard. It started with whispers. Murmurs from the town and its people. Rumours spread across Athens the same way the breeze did at the start of summer. They said the gods were angry, furious.

How could the mortals be so silly? How could they possibly rile their gods like this? Again?

Stupid humans, foolish humans.

You didn’t understand.

But then one morning before the sun rose, you awoke to a reddened sky and a heavy wind, a storm brewing over the horizon, a dark mass you could see above the sea from your bedroom window. Preachers took to the streets then, standing on the cobbles with bells ringing above their heads, warning every person listening about the end of times. It had happened before, they said, their faces masks of horror. It was happening again.

The gardens all died, grass turning black, crops to dust, life fleeing from the ocean as Poseidon uprooted the seafloor, waves crashing against the cliff's edge. Athens turned to decay, colour slipping from the world as the gods ruled over it from the skies and sea. A punishment fit for the crime, the elders said, telling stories at the marketplace, of how their own grandparents had once been born together, joined at the heart, four arms and four legs.

One soul.

They said Zeus came from Olympus, that he’d crashed down to earth riding a bolt of lightning and he ripped the mortals apart. They said it was a bloodshed, rivers of red running through the plazas, wells turning thick like tar.

Zeus cursed everyone, you heard. Your kind had been getting too prideful, too full of ego and greed and want for more. The gods feared an uprising, they sat on their thrones and they resented to power you all craved.

So they did something about it.

With their wounds left to heal on their own over months and years, each half of a mortal was thrown to different corners of the earth, destined to spend the rest of their lives searching for the other half of their soul.

It seemed nothing more than a fable, a horror story for children, something you would never have believed. Soulmates? Someone made just for you? An impossible notion, you were sure you would have once thought, if you hadn’t already met yours.

He was at the forge when the first bolt of lightning hit the ground.

The concrete split and temples on the cliff sides shook, the tiles on each home shattering as they fell. You heard people yelling from your garden as the ground shuddered and an eerie quiet followed. A hollow silence, a calm before a storm and then something else hit the ground too.

Bigger, heavier, more powerful.

You dropped your basket and ran.

Still barefoot, you left the sodden clothes on the grass and fled, passing the sanctuary of your home, the temples beyond the rivers, the forests that came before the sea. You ran to the plaza, through the marketplace that was buzzing with fear, shoulders burning with pain as you slammed your way past everyone who ran against you. You were battling a tidal wave of townsfolk, each one crying and yelling.

You heard shouts of Titans! Furies!

People yelled out names they once didn’t dare whisper, each word said like a curse. Cronus, Crius, Oceanus, Thea. Standing on the marble steps of the Parthenon, a preacher in guided robes had blood running down the side of his face, a cut on his head matting his greying hair. He was ashen, clutching at his scribes and shouting at the frenzied crowd below.

“Tartarus has risen!” He yelled, “the gates of Hades have opened and we, foolish mortals, shall pay for our sins! The father of gods shall come for us, he shall feast upon thy flesh and bone and—”

The preacher's harrowing words were cut off abruptly as another crack in the earth opened up. The shining marble split and the man fell through, the world itself swallowing him whole. You didn’t have time to react more than a strangled cry coming from somewhere deep in your chest. You clasped your hand to your mouth, fearing you’d lose your breakfast, that you’d become too dizzy to keep moving.

The ocean was growing closer, too tall waves and swirling, dark pools buried into its depths. Ships were being sucked under, their white sails the last thing you saw before they were swallowed by Poseidon’s fury. A golden chariot raced down from the sky, sparks flying in the air as it landed on the roof of the Acropolis. More marble shattered and Ares, the god of war, had landed on earth to do his duty.

By the time you reached the forge, the plaza was running red, just like the elders had said it would. The bronzed statue of Hephaestus that guarded the entrance to the blacksmiths had come to life, the god himself taking its form as he spewed fire across the village, molten heat and steel dripping from his large hands, coal crumbling at his feet. The air smelled like ash, like fire and death.

As you searched for him - your other half - eyes wide and frantic, your chest heaving, Hades stood in the shadows across the cobbled road. Inky black dripped from him, from his robes, his skin, his mouth. He looked ghoulish until he stepped into what was left of the daylight, a trick of the sun turning his gaunt face handsome. He grinned at you, each tooth pointed and sharp and he held out a hand. A pomegranate was placed in his palm, the fruit cracked open and the ruby seeds spilling out of it like tiny jewels. He beckoned you, a voice in your head whispering, silky, sultry, full of promises that couldn’t be real.

Surely eternal damnation was better than a fate like this?

You moved, your body not your own, one foot in front of the other, your hand outstretched. Images flashed through your head, dark swirls of three headed dogs, rivers made of souls and gates of bones. But when they opened, there was a garden, more beautiful than the ones in Athens, with their marble pillars and fountains that led into ponds. In this garden, temples stood gleaming and tall, with maidens dancing amongst rose bushes, naked and with hair to their waists. They waved to you, more scarlet coloured fruit held in their hands and they were laughing, singing, pulling you closer--

Another bolt of lightning - bigger and louder and brighter than before - hit the ground and the maidens disappeared. The god of the underworld grinned once more before he stepped back into the shadows and turned to smoke, melting into the bloodied ground.

Zeus had landed in Athens.

And you couldn’t find Steve.

Steve Harrington, son of the town’s head blacksmith, was tending to the forge when the first god came to earth. He’d left you in bed, the threadbare sheets around you still warm, your skin littered with his leftover kisses, marks from his greedy fingers the night before. The sky had been scarlet when he walked across the plaza and in the far distance, a plume of smoke rose from what seemed like the ocean. The Methana volcano was simmering, waiting, spewing fumes of gas and dust.

A warning.

The forge cracked when Zeus arrived, the bricks splitting along with the forge floor, cobbles and bricks turning to rubble under the men’s feet. Fire and coal tumbled from the cast iron cages, half made swords of burning steel falling at their feet. The sky above rumbled, the windows shattering as bolts of lightning hit the land and people screamed, torturous sounds that made Steve run blindly out into the plaza.

Some were kneeling, their heads bent and their palms open to the sky, to the gods. A sacrifice that was ignored. Others ran, diving into buildings that immediately fell on top of them and Steve watched in horror as people dropped before him, falling like sacks, crumpled to the ground as they clutched their chests in agony. They called out their lovers' names, their voices hoarse, pleading, desperate and all at once, a crowd surged behind Steve, carrying him with them, his shoulders burning at the momentum.

He had to find you.

The market was in ruins, once fresh vegetables and fruits now smashed into the concrete, the smell of baked bread hidden under burning embers. Panicked horses fled their owners and carts, almost knocking Steve to the ground as they tried to escape the carnage. The sea level was rising, the shadows of boat sails towering over marble buildings, the hulls of ships teetering closer to pillars that once held the statues of the gods now seeking revenge. Steve had been raised to honour them, to covet them, to fear them.

And he’d never felt as scared as he did when he spotted you across the square, eyes wide and not yet finding his, your gaze too trained on the statue of Aphrodite that was crashing down too close to you. The white marble hit the floor and shattered, sending clouds of dust and dirt into the already smoke filled air and you disappeared from Steve’s sight once more.

Panic flooded him, a fear like no other and suddenly the gods that reigned from the seas and skies didn’t seem as terrifying anymore.

He yelled your name, choking on the fumes from the fires that had started to rage all around, Hephaestus riding a cloud of black coals and burning embers as he let fire pour from his palms and open mouth, a gaping maw of molten lava that dripped from and melted everything and everyone it touched. Steve flung himself to the ground to avoid the flames, crawling desperately forward before he caught himself and began to run again, hissing as the gaps in his shoes filled with shards of broken stone. Red poured from the soles of his feet but he didn’t think anything could hurt as much as the thought of losing you.

Again, he screamed for you, the letters of your name hitching in his throat, scratching like glass and more people tore in front of his path, running from the destruction. Bodies fell before him, couples forever trapped in a lovers embrace, their faces hidden in each other's chests. They became one again, four arms, four legs, two faces.

Joined at a heart that was no longer beating.

Steve didn’t want to die without you.

He found you in the rubble as Zeus moved closer, a grey and white shadow of a man, a huge hulking figure that didn’t seem real. He didn’t look like his marble castings, the statues that were gilded with gold leaf. He wore no olive laurel on his head, he bore no kind smile nor gentle eyes. Instead he held bolts of lightning in his hands like swords, like spears, throwing them at his victims with cruel precision.

A storm followed him, bigger than anything Steve had ever seen before. It turned the red clouds above the god purple and black, an inky slurry of darkness and electricity crackled between spaces. The air buzzed and Steve’s skin prickled, the static making his ripped and bloodied shirt cling to his damp chest.

Poseidon had finally shown himself, emerging from the waves, his skin a sickly green, his eyes darker than the deepest depths of the sea he came from. He held a triton, seaweed hanging from its points, his body scarred and battered from the horrors he created in the oceans. He seemed too big, a giant, an almost titan and rain poured from Zeus’ purple clouds as he advanced onto Athens.

Steve saw your arm, a limp hand from beneath a pile of stone and he cried as he lifted each piece of what was once Aphrodite. The marble face of the goddess of love smiled warmly at him and it felt mocking, it felt like an arrow to the chest.

You were still alive, barely awake, nose dripping blood and a slice across your forehead that narrowly missed your eye. You cried when Steve pulled you free, his strong arms wrapped around your torso and you clung to him, barely daring to look at the horrors that surrounded you. He smelled like smoke and fire and the metal sting of blood, but under it all, there was something like home that still lay on his skin.

He seemed frantic, calling your name over and over until you nodded and said his back, like it was only upon hearing your voice that he believed you were alive. Steve sat amongst the debris of Aphrodite and held you, your weak frame pulled into his lap and he cradled you there, your head on his shoulder and your arms around his neck.

You weren’t sure what you coveted more fiercely, the young man or your last breath.

A shadow lingered nearby, listening to the soft murmurs you shared the pretty lies you both needed to hear as you told each other it would be okay. Hades stood close, statuesque and with black plumes at the bottom of his dark robes, a midnight blue cast over his skin. He looked like he’d never been close to looking human. He held a timepiece in one hand, a golden thing that ticked too loudly and he grinned at you and Steve, watching, waiting as two creatures by his feet held scrolls of names. They were made od nothing kind, created from bone and other people’s spines, their too long tails and forked tongues that flickered over the skin of the dead as they sent their souls below.

Steve knew he’d fight a god before he let them take you.

But he didn’t get such the luxury of battling for his lover. Zeus moved closer still, rain pouring harder, electricity making his hair stand on end. The father of gods himself stood tall before you both, his eyes as white as his long hair and beard. Nothing about him softened as he gazed down at you both intertwined, blood from each other staining your lover's skin.

Steve pulled you closer, his hand cupping the nape of your neck as he pushed your face to his throat, shielding you, protecting you. You clung to him tighter, hands fisting in the rags of his old shirt and you wondered if you’d ever get to see him again. If this life was it, if this was all you were allowed.

The two of you in the ruins of Athens, the goddess of love shattered at your feet. Four legs, four arms, two faces, one soul. Connected by a heart that seemed weaker than ever in the presence of something cruel.

Silence came before the crack, the world stilling, Athens at peace. You found solace in Steve, your nose pressed to his neck as you held onto him, praying for something painless. You pushed two kisses to his skin then, the side of his throat that seemed to make your lips fizz and Steve sucked in a breath, his lips at your temple, cherishing the last touch he got of you.

“I love you,” Steve whispered and his voice cracked on each word. Tears from his eyes stream the dirt on his face, running rivers down your cheek until they mixed with your own. “I’ll find you again. In the next life, and the next again. I prom—”

A bolt of lightning, so hot it felt frozen, struck the breath of space between your chests. Something inside of you cracked then, ribs splintering as the weapon found your heart and you couldn’t feel Steve’s arms around you anymore.

You couldn’t feel anything.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington smut #Steve Harrington fanfiction #Steve Harrington fanfic #Steve Harrington oneshot

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unbrxken · 1 year

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for: @starbcrn-kids

main muse: Lucille

guest starring: Starla, Fantasia Bastards

Starla didn't even look over at the transporter when she heard it. She just closed her eyes, reaching up to pinch the bridge of her nose.

"Lily, my love... I'm not turning around... is this a Mackenzie call?"

Lucille raised an eyebrow at the woman, looking over at the nearby redhead, staying silent.

#starbcrn kids #(timeline: turn of the century)#(muse: lucille)#(muse: starla marshall)

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lackadaisycats · 6 months

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Hello! I wanted to ask about these drawings of Sophie and Nina! I recently took more notice to what kind of dresses they were wearing and wanted to know more ! The lingerie dresses Nina and Sophie are wearing seem more fancy (is that the right word? More like very detailed). I believe those type of dresses were worn during the spring and summer by various economic classes. The amount of detail and the type of fabrics seem to be used kind of makes it look more expensive. So I wanted to ask if those dresses were saved for portraits and more formal events, or did they have others like this? My knowledge of the Edwardian fashion era is very scarce, so I wanted to ask. And finding information about the type of dress Sophie was wearing in her standalone portrait was a bit hard to find lol. To sum up more of the question, were the two more in the middle or upper class when they were younger?

Another question, did these take place before Sophie and Nina came to America? I was wondering since the picture of the two took place in 1902, while we know Rocky was born in 1904; so the timeline would be pretty quick from when they went to America to Sophie and Rocky's dad have met and so on.

Sorry for these long winded questions! Thank you for your time!

Nina and Sophie immigrated with their family when they were teenagers, before the turn of the century. They were working class. Lingerie dresses were a sort of outdoor summer look of the Edwardian period. They weren't strictly relegated to the upper classes - how fancy they were fell on a spectrum. And, in fact, a lot of middle class and working class women gathered their own material and made their own dresses. The dresses in the "photo" here are more of the fancy, probably-not-homegrown sort, but they didn't belong to Nina and Sophie. They were borrowed (for the photo) from a family they both worked for as housekeepers. Something like a shirtwaist (a sort of blouse) and skirt would have been their more normal attire. Though by modern standards even a lot of relatively workaday Edwardian clothes look pretty fancy without context.

#lackadaisy #lackadaisycats #edwardian #fashion #lingerie dress #q&a

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whereserpentswalk · 2 months

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You have a computer that can access the internet of any dimension. You don't have the ability to physically go places, just to observe them and interact with them through this one machine.

Sometimes you'll just do it for fun. Seeing other timeline's versions of sites and the content that's created there. Getting to see work from artists if they hadn't sold out or moved on. Or getting to see what YouTube is like in a world where it never become corpratized. Or get to go on Vine in a world where vine exists in 2024. You've read writing from Shakespeare if he had been sent to the new world, seen stories from Lovecraft if he had unlearned his bigotry, seen experimental films from George Lucas if star wars had floppe, heard music from Kurt Cobain if he hadn't died young.

And you've gone off to weirder places to. You've seen what political discourse is like in a world where Constantine converted to Buddhism instead of chrsitianity, where that's the dominant religion of the west. And you'll see conservatives talking about how sjws are undermining the west's Buddhist values, or YouTube videos talking about chrsitantiy as this forgotten dead religion from the crisis if the third century. And you asked someone in the comments of that video what they thought a world would be like if chrsitanity survived, and they said it was impossible, that it was doomed to die out just because it did.

And you've talked to people from a world where humanity lives underground, where an apocalypse made the surface of the world uninhabitable, and every human on earth lives in massive subterranean complexes. You talked to them about what they wanted, if they wanted to see the sun, see the forests and the birds and the creatures that they knew were above them, and most of them didn't really want it. Most of them didn't really want to see the surface, they had grown up having never seen it, it didn't bother them, they were confused why anyone would be that committed to finally go somewhere that humans weren't. And there was one person who told you they did always really want to see it, that it's their hyperfixation, but that they'd obviously go back with the other humans if they had the chance, that they couldn't live somewhere without them.

And you've seen a world where humans where dead, where only robots and ai and cyborgs were still around. And even though they couldn't touch you, you were afraid, because you thought they would hate you. But they didn't, on every site where they talked about humans they talked about how cool you were, and how much aprication they had for their culture. And when you made a post asking if they'd want to hurt humans if they saw them, everyone who replied called you weird.

You've seen the internet in a world where cryptids and monsters are real. And you ended up on a forum for vampires. And you asked a newly turned vampire how they felt, and they said it was cold, that their body felt so cold, but it was still their body, and that they still wanted to live, still wanted to find a way to enjoy their life even if they didn't like their body.

And you've seen a world where all humans are completely aroace, and don't desire sex or romance at all. And you decided to upload sexual and romantic art, and even fetish art, to one of their sites. And the people there loved it, despite not understanding its purpose, they loved the way the artist depicted the world, saw it as so unique and strange, as something weirdly beautiful, and not at all gross, because nobody ever told them such things were gross.

And you've made online freinds from other worlds. People who you can never touch, never see, but who you see through their words. You've comforted someone who doesn't exist in your world, from a country that doesn't exist in your world, but you've comforted them, and made sure they don't get hurt or hurt themself, from very far away, because despite everything you can't help but care.

Mabye the internet isn't that bad. Mabye the world isn't all horrible. Mabye people aren't that bad.

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baronvontribble · 6 months

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thoughts on the vampire ascendant

so, the ascension ritual was conceived of by the archdevil mephistopheles to give cazador power, right. like, this is a two century old deal with a devil. we know that deals with devils always involve an ulterior motive. something deeper is going on under the surface. so why would mephistopheles give cazador a deal like that? a guarantee of seven thousand souls? he could get that just by starting a war.

no, i think it's bigger than that. he is, after all, very specifically empowering cazador. it's an all-of-the-perks, none-of-the-drawbacks situation. the perfect vampire.

the perfect vessel.

astarion, impulsive as he is, hasn't given a lick of thought to this. if cazador had any safeguards in place to keep himself intact, astarion isn't aware of them. he hasn't even considered that he might lose himself to the ritual, and there's plenty of proof that he does.

in the hordes of the underdark expansion of neverwinter nights (yes i'm old for knowing this), mephistopheles is specifically plotting to turn toril into the lowest circle of hell under his rule. this will make him more powerful than asmodeus, thus making him the lord of all the hells.

it explains why he's the one the crown of karsus was stolen from in baldur's gate 3, because of course he'd have an object that powerful in his vault. but it also explains why he would assist a vampire in ascending, because an ascendant vampire's body would be the perfect vehicle for an archdevil looking to rule the world to work through.

there is no way for astarion to come out of the ritual intact. it wouldn't have been designed that way in the first place. particularly if this is one of the contingencies mephistopheles came up with before the events of hordes of the underdark (which, given the timeline, it is). ascended astarion is almost definitely an archdevil's puppet, much like cazador would've been if he'd been successful. whether it's one of mephistopheles's lieutenants or the asshole supreme himself pulling the strings, it's fucked either way.

anyway, no judgement, i'm just adding to the commentary/theorycrafting around it in case anyone wants to take a poke at this kind of narrative direction. food for thought, basically!

#no one cares andy #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #astarion ancunin #astarion #baldur's gate 3 spoilers #bg3 spoilers

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bet-on-me-13 · 6 months

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Dan is (Insert Character)

So, I've recently fallen in love with the idea of Dan being reformed and being a part of various characters Backstories, like This post about Dan being a Farmer Friend of the Kent's

So here are a few more examples of that!

Dan is Thomas Wayne: Dan is reformed and moves to Gotham to start a new life, while there he meets and befriends the elderly Wayne Couple, who never managed to have kids. Eventually the Wayne end up adopting Dan (who changed his name to Thomas), and he becomes Thomas Wayne. He even has a Kid. Unfortunately as a Parole Requirement, he had to lock away his powers, meaning he couldn't save himself or his Wife the day they got murdered in a Mugging. He became a Full Ghost, and in his rage at the death of his wife he relapsed into his old Violent self. Danny, while he understood the feeling, unfortunately did have to arrest him for his rage filled rampage. His Sentence is finally up, and he wants to see how his Son is doing.

Dan is Billy Batsons Dad: A little known fact about Billy Batson is that whenever he transforms into Shazam, he unconsciously makes himself look more like his Father than a future version of himself. So imagine his shock when, in the middle of a fight, one of his enemies takea a closer look at him and suddenly yells out, "Is that DAN!?". Billy now wants to know how these Extra Dimensional Monsters know his Dad's name. And why they seem Terrified of him...

Dan is Alfred's Dad: Alfred is taking one of his famously rare Vacations, and the rest of the Batfam decides to ask where he is going. "Oh, I'm going to visit my Father" "Wait what? Aren't you like 100 years old?! How is your dad still alive?!" "Did you not know? Alfred is a Demigod" "WHAT?!"

Dan is Jonathan Kent: Dan settles down somewhere in Smallville, Kansas. Unfortunately, as a Halfa he isn't physically capable of having kids, but as luck would have it a space pod carrying a small baby crashes into their fields one night. When that baby starts developing powers, Dan is experience enough to help him control them though. Just imagine one day, a Villain discovers Superman's Civilain Identity and tries to attack his Dad, only for his dad to be stronger than him.

Dan is Ra's Al Ghul's Dad: Dan was reformed and decided to get sent back in time to live his life, so he wouldn't interrupted the present Timeline. While there he met a lady and had a Kid. Unfortunately, he was forced to return to the Zone to wait for the Future to happen when his son was barely into adulthood, but he did decide to give him a Birthday Gift. The Lazarus Pits. Once in the Zone, he had to wait for a few centuries to pass before he was allowed to return, but once he was allowed back to the Living Realm he immediately began to search for his Son. The Pits should have kept him alive this long, so hopefully he lived a nice long life. Wait, who are these Cult Guys around his Lazarus Pits? And, where is his son? And why does that lady feel so familiar? Who is that little Demon Brat?

Dan is General Sam Lane: Simple really, Dan is Lois Lanes dad, and she is technically a Quarter Ghost but she had never awakened her powers. If you want to use the Injustice Timeline, then Lois gets resurrected after a few days and finally awakens her Halfa Powers. She is there to stop Superman from fully turning to the Dark Side, and asks her Dad to help Clark keep his emotions in check.

What do you think?

#Dp x dc #Dpxdc #Dc x dp #Dcxdp #Danny Phantom #Dc #Dcu #Dan Phantom is Thomas Wayne #Dan Phantom is Billy Batsons Dad #Dan Phantom is Alfred's Dad #Dan Phantom is Jonathan Kent #Dan Phantom is Ra's Al Ghul's Dad #Dan Phantom is General Sam Lane #Suggestions for more characters Dan could Be/be connected to?

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thethiefandtheairbender · 2 months

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as a lifelong ATLA fan who narrowly had ATLA dethroned as my top show by The Dragon Prince steadily over the past 5 years, the similarities between the two have very little to do with the surface level parallels that get regularly drawn between them.

Like ATLA, TDP has Books for seasons and chapters for episodes, but unlike ATLA, which only touched on storytelling sparingly as a theme, TDP is obsessed with interrogating storytelling and history and the presence of unreliable, biased narrators throughout many of its episodes (most notably 2x05, 2x06, 3x06, 4x04, and 4x07 among them). Half of what you learn in the 1x01 intro ends up being a lie once you reach S3, with more being steadily deciphered.

Yes, TDP has different magics with people living under those umbrella terms... for the elves. Humans are coming culturally at things from a completely different angle, and the elves' connection to their primal sources are discussed philosophically in detail, informing their practices and their culture first hand, including the way they chafe against humans, who are arcanum-less. Many animals in the world are also connected to magic, which influences both their design and which ones get hunted for humans' more 'clever' solution in dark magic, including each other.

The core issue of the Puppetmaster, down to being a coercive magic formed by someone deeply resentful of their imprisonment? Said puppetmaster is the main endgame antagonist of the entire show with all of S4 onwards being exploring the ethics of controlling people against their will in various methods, and the entire show itself being a thematic battleground of fate (imprisonment) vs free will for virtually every single character.

Where ATLA mostly concerns itself timeline wise with ending the war, very little thought is shown by any of the characters as to what they'll do after the war. This isn't a problem (as it reflects the sheer domineering scope of the conflict) but even Zuko being firelord is only ever really addressed with 2.5 episodes left till the finale. TDP, meanwhile, ends its 'war' in s3 and s4 opens up with dealing with the old wounds festering between people with centuries of history, the struggles that come when people aren't able to let go and believe they're safe or mourn in a healthy manner, and the religious/cultural clashes that may occur when trying to integrate different groups of people.

TDP also has an evil father with a devoted daughter and a brother who eventually defects, but it explores the reality of an abusive parent who loves/will sacrifice for you and your right to leave regardless, even if that means leaving the sibling you truly deeply love and who loves you in turn. Which means that when you and your sibling are on opposite sides of a deep ideological conflict, it actually really fucking hurts bc we've seen first hand just how much they love each other and also how and why everything fell apart not in spite of that love necessarily, but also because of it.

Is this to say that TDP is a 1:1 with ATLA or that it's better? No, not at all, and the latter is subjective. I prefer TDP, but I think they're about on equal ground when you look at each show currently as a whole (although TDP has two seasons left to go).

But TDP takes a lot of what ATLA was doing thematically with some of its most interesting beats and then builds or expands upon them further. It talks further and more consistently about the cycles of violence; in many ways, Jack De Sena's character, Callum, begins the series largely where Sokka had ended (and he's not the most like Sokka anyway; very much his own thing); we get Faustian bargains and centuries' long grief and fucked up people who are trying both succeeding and failing at not doing fucked up things. There are antagonists, but it is very hard to actually label anyone at this point a straight up villain. Moral greyness is where the show starts, and it just continues from there.

That's not to say the show is nothing but dark and depressing - like ATLA, there's a steady thread of hope and humour even as the show gets steadily closer and closer to its 11th hour point - but the show is usually emotionally heavier. There's more blood and potentially disturbing imagery with body horror and on screen death. There's so much foreshadowing you basically can't go more than 5 minutes into any episode without having something that's going to come back around or be referenced again like 3-5 seasons later.

Just to be clear - TDP is like ATLA, but it's like ATLA in interesting ways beyond the more shallow surface level that usually gets attributed to it, while still very much being its own show and its own thing. And that is why I tend to recommend it to people who like ATLA.

Thank you and goodnight

(Also, the fandom doesn't have any ship wars, and the show is queer as fuck)

#tdp #atla #the dragon prince #avatar: the last airbender #mine #parallels #analysis series #also betrayal. tdp talks a lot more about betrayal #now im trying to think if there's any character in tdp who hasn't felt or been outright betrayed #i. DON'T THINK SO??#atla meta #tdp meta

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