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#i’m just salty about the Cassandra thing still
fabuloustrash05 · 2 years
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As much as I loved the new ROTTMNT movie and his character, Casey Jones could’ve easily been replaced with Renet Tilley and there would’ve been no difference to the story.
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I hate to keep being so salty about Moffat’s era b/c RTD’s first era did have some things I didn’t like but man RTD was a freaking genius at weaving so much emotion and heart into his stories while still keeping it sci-fi
I mean we had arcs for soooo many characters it’s actually kind of crazy when you think about it, and I’m not just talking about Nine, Ten/Tentoo, Rose, Martha and Donna
The companions families as well--positive and negative b/c I’m still not over how difficult it must have been for Martha’s family after their year with the Master. But Jackie and Pete had their happily ever after (and a baby), Mickey grew so much, Sylvia seemed to have a bit of a change of heart regarding Donna at the end, Wilf was fabulously Wilf (we saw their families so many times on screen!!)
Like think about how wild it is that I know Mickey was raised by his gran, I remember Martha warning her brother Leo and he was walking with a gf/wife/partner? pushing a baby stroller, Martha’s dad had a gf who I think was called Annalise and there was drama about that cheating scandal...I know so much about characters that aren’t really the main companions in comparison to, for example, Amy and Rory
We had arcs for “minor” characters like Cassandra, Harriet Jones, Adam, The Face of Boe, the Slitheen that took over Margaret, even Jake from Pete’s World
We had a connection between Gwyneth and Gwen with the explanation as to why they look the same, same for the explanation as to why Tosh was there in S1
We had what was essentially like an origin story for the Ood in S4 when they had first been introduced in S2
Jack had his own spinoff, I haven’t watched Classic Who but Sarah Jane was incredible in what I’ve seen of her own spinoff too
Even though there’s some things I don’t like about Journey’s End the reason it was so exciting to see was b/c of the culmination of so many characters that had so much backstory coming together. Come on we even had a reference to Mr. Copper from the “Voyage of the Damned” special since he funded the Sub-Wave Network! Incredible, just incredible. 
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alatismeni-theitsa · 2 years
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Greek Colonization…
I feel like there should be more of a narrative about colonization, but I hate that it would always be used against us. As if modern Greeks are guilty for 3,000 year old crimes… Things can and should be said about modern Greeks in Africa or the Americas, and the effects that they had. Guess what, pretty much every culture has done terrible things, but you don’t see westerners appropriating Arab culture bc the slave trade (well they still do appropriate it, they just don’t justify it). It’s all hypocrisy! Attention should be paid to the ugly parts of Greek history, but that doesn’t mean that we’re less deserving of our own culture or stories.
The Medea is an amazing play and it highlights the terrible experiences that came from Greek colonization. The rape of Cassandra is another that highlights the actions in Troy and how they’re not good either. We should have more stories highlighting that, but it will always be equated with modern slavery and Western European racism.
People just need to get over their fetishization of Ancient Greece and acknowledge that they’re only saying this shit to defend their own interests and not for any moral reason.
I’m of Asia Minor Greek descent. Genetic testing has shown that we are related to the Anatolians that were colonized. It was our ancestors that were victims, but that doesn’t make us less Greek now. Colonization did have harmful effects, but it’s not black and white. We became Greeks. The Persians destroyed Miletus and the coastal Greek civilizations. The Latin peoples destroyed Constantinople and Byzantine Greek civilization. The Turks made us slaves, second class citizens, and finally forced us out of our homeland. The Turks then spent every effort they had to profit off of our culture while still discriminating against Greeks living in their boarders. When we went to Greece, we were seen as Turks and were discriminated against. Those who fled west were discriminated against further (my family included). However, all of the while, maintaining a Greek identity and pride. All of this to show, Greek colonization was 3000 years ago, but those colonized peoples should not be used as an excuse. We are them, we felt the pain and we grew from it.
It is not and never will be a reason for our culture and history to be free real estate for anyone who wants it. Not even to mention that they don’t even understand what it all looks like since Ancient Greeks were extremely homophobic, transphobic, xenophobic, etc. They want our aesthetics and will no everything to excuse their use of them
Thank you!! Also when we say "get over it, this was too long ago" we are actually talking about colonizations and wars happening literally millennia ego. Are the Italians themselves angry because of this ancient colonization? Are the Iranians salty because we beat them in some battles 2.000+ years ago, and we because they kind of conquered us in the end? No. Is it relevant in their/our lives? No. Then whoooo the fuck gives these internet people the right to be pissed about it?
*In fact it's the Grecoitalian (Griko) culture and language that are endangered TODAY in Italy and South Italians are seen as less educated sometimes and face bigotry. It is the Christian Greeks that faced centuries of oppression in Iran after the Arab invasion which was much more recent than the Persian wars or the Greek colonization of Italian grounds. And yeah Italians brought a largely culturally Greek-Orthodox empire to its knees with the crusade. Imagine if we were pissed about that today 🤦
Some people of the "New" world just need to learn how to view ancient peoples
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sylverstorms · 3 years
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Cassandra x Maiden ----Anonymity Ch.7
Ch.1 Ch.2 Ch.3 Ch.4 Ch.5 Ch.6
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Cassandra gradually starts taking up more of your time. Or, more accurately, demands it like it’s her birthright.
Every day, you wake her up with a kiss to her shoulder or neck and a whisper of her name. She comes to you when she’s bored at random times during your shifts, to either talk –complain— about her sisters or to outright distract you. There are times at night when you’ll feel the chill of her slip into your bed and press up against your back, but she’s always gone by morning light, like a dream.
She used to be just another component to your nightmares. Now… she’s what takes them away.
And you’re afraid.
That you’re growing to like the time with her while she’s just playing around, that it will cut that much deeper when you find yourself on the end on her sickle. Because how else can it end, you reason, between the two of you?
The thought momentarily makes your liplock with Cassandra taste bitter, despite the sweet strawberry taste of her lip balm -and no way she’s putting that on for you, right?
She has you pressed deep into a plush armchair with her palm on your chest, while her thighs are locked tight on either side of yours. You want to tell her that you should stop –both because you’re literally in the open and anyone can walk in on you and because it’s late—but her lips are doing wicked things to your neck and you can’t find your voice long enough.
When Cassandra starts grinding down on you though, rather impatiently too, you have to speak up before she starts something neither of you can finish.
“Cassandra.” you say breathily. A sharp nip comes over your pulse, then slippery lips close around the area. “Ah! Cassandra. You’ll be late for dinner.”
She tsks and pulls back, expression much like a kid that got her hand slapped away from the cookie jar. She dismounts you with the same sour look, smoothing down her robes.
“Walk me there.” she orders.
You rise and fall into step beside her, trying not to linger on how strange it feels. It should be nothing, really, considering all the activities the two of you nightly indulge in, but it’s… something.
Cassandra, uncharacteristically quiet, keeps gazing out the windows as though calculating or pinpointing something while you make your way to the dining room.
She comes to a sudden halt just before you reach it, turns to you, steals a quick kiss and then quickly leaves you behind, a colder aura about her as she strolls inside.
You hear Lady Dimitrescu’s voice, but not what she says. Once a few minutes have passed and you can safely blend into the background, you join the other maids on standby within.
You used to hate it here. Having them all in front of you like that, serving them wine, when they’re all to blame for taking any semblance of normalcy out of your life. You never glance at what they’re eating. You still dislike dinner time.
But.
When Alcina makes a snide comment about Heisenberg and you hear Cassandra’s laugh above Daniela’s giggle and Bela’s chuckle…
It no longer seems so bad.
-
-
“Bela, stay a moment.” Cassandra says after Lady Dimitrescu leaves with Daniela in tow.
“Oh, no.” The blonde huffs under her hood.
“I didn’t say anything. Yet.” The younger sibling raises her hands in exasperation.
“When you go ‘Bela~’” You bite your lip to keep your expression neutral as you’re cleaning the table because hearing the normally stoic sister mimic Cassandra’s voice like that is just plain gold. “It’s never good.” her tone turns flat once more.
Cassandra very pointedly rolls her pretty eyes. “I need you to cover for me.”
“See?” Bela sighs. “Absolutely not.”
“Well, it wasn’t really a question, I was just trying to give you the illusion of choice.” Cassandra shrugs. “I’m going out tonight.”
“What?” Bela damn near hisses. “Have you lost your mind?”
“It’s fine it’s, like, thirteen degrees.”
“How is that fine?”
The elder sister’s gaze then flits to you. There is no other maid in the vicinity that can overhear them, but she’s clearly uncomfortable with you picking up the implications of their conversation.
You still don’t get it. You guessed their aversion to sunlight has to do with their mutations… but why would the cold be an issue?
The survivor in you wants to know more. To know if this is something that can be used to your advantage when the time and circumstances are right for a potential escape.
Another part of you… just plain worries.
“I know what I’m doing.” Cassandra says, stern.
“Then you’re doing it alone.” Bela turns to leave…
Except.
“Oh, well. Guess mother should know about that little maid you’ve been orbiting around, lately.” Cassandra comments. “The one you even did a favor for? Just imagine her disappointment in you, the shining example of the family, stooping so low.”
Bela’s back goes rod-straight. The piercing look she sends Cassandra sends ice down your spine. You think she’s going to pounce… yet she exhales.
“One. Hour.” Bela states. “If you’re not back in one hour I’m coming to drag your sorry behind to mother. And she—” A gloved finger points directly to you, “Won’t be coming back with you in one piece.”
Wait.
What?
-
-
You didn’t know Cassandra planned to take you with her. But she didn’t deny it when Bela pointed to you. After her sister left, all she said was: ‘Dress well.’
Which brings you to your current position, pacing by the entrance hall of the castle, in a warm coat and two layers of clothes underneath. You turn to look behind when you finally hear her steps descending the staircase.
And— you freeze.
Because Cassandra is not wearing her usual robes. She’s dressed in all black, yes, but the outfit is tight on her form, fitting every curve, hugging her wonderful legs like a second skin. She’s wearing knee-high boots instead of heels and her hooded, gothic overcoat reaches down to mid-thigh.
There’s not a single patch of her skin visible other than her face… and you can’t, for the life of you, explain why it’s that hot.
“You’re staring, plaything.” she chastises, yet doesn’t sound like she minds. Rather, she’s smirking.
“Uh—” you can’t really form words.
“We need to hurry, clock’s ticking.” she says as she jiggles the very key you’ve looked everywhere during work hours for. The key to freedom. To leaving the castle.
Cassandra double-checks her clothes before she opens the door. You file it as useful information for later as you hurry to catch up to her.
The path to the village –or what’s left of it— through the forest is… difficult. Mainly because Cassandra is entirely unbothered by any and all obstacles and moves like she’s on a walkway, leaving you to fight with every rock hidden in the snow.
You manage. Somehow.
Until a distant howl makes you jump and quite literally crash into her side.
Cassandra laughs. It’s a clear, beautiful sound in the dead of night. “My, my. Scared of a Lycan in my presence?”
“I thought it was just a regular wolf!” You whisper, mortified.
Yellow eyes blink at you. Then her gloved hand raises to yours, taking it in a secure grip. You didn’t realize you were shaking, yet the tremors quickly cease when she does that. It’s just your heart that still feels like it’s going to give out on you, but for an entirely different reason, now.
Cassandra safely leads you to the village. It looks more or less the same, except empty, void of life. You don’t linger on memories. You don’t.
“Show me your house.” she says.
You never thought you’d be tracing the steps of your front porch so soon. You only have to push the door for it to open. And the inside is just as you remembered. A quaint little house. It’s simply not… home, anymore.
Nothing is.
Maybe nothing ever was.
And the thought makes a thin, cracked wall inside you finally give. Cassandra is saying something a few paces behind you, but your vision has blurred, your eyes sting and hot, salty rivers roll past your lids.
“Are you listening to me?” she asks. “...Plaything?”
You can’t talk. If you do, you’ll sob and break to pieces on the floor like a pushed glass statue.
Cassandra’s grip is tight and demanding on your elbow when her fingers curl above it, but she turns you with gentleness you’d never think her capable of. You do not meet her eyes.
Her other hand comes up to your neck.
You can’t, you can’t—
“Alexia.”
Your eyes snap to hers when she says it, from the shock. You didn’t think she even knew your name. Cassandra shifts her weight from one leg to the other, then seems to decide on something and wipes the tears beading at your chin away with her thumb.
“Pack what you wish. We don’t have long.”
As you turn into your bedroom and open your wardrobe to pack a few clothes into a bag, just to feel a tad more yourself when you’re in your room in the castle, the sound of your name falling from her lips follows you.
Haunts you.
You have half a mind to get your mp3, phone and chargers before you return to her. Cassandra is holding whatever she wanted to get from the village in a box tucked between her arm and body.
“Come.” she orders. Her hand settles on your elbow again and practically drags you along.
You don’t talk on your way back to the castle.
From one of the many windows overlooking the front yard, you spot Bela’s eyes on the two of you until she retreats into the shadows. Rigidly, Cassandra enters and immediately goes by the large fireplace to warm up. You only then notice how much more fluid her movements get. Or rather, how sluggish she was during the trip.
You shut the door and turn the key and realize it’s much easier to handle your situation when you’re the one locking yourself inside.
You take off your coat and scarf, then make to head for your bedroom —according to your calculations you’ll only get 3 hours of sleep— until… you notice how cold Cassandra looks.
She’s one step away from hugging the flames. And you can still hear her call you by your name in your head.
Great. Another thing to keep me up at night. You think as you approach her.
Slowly, so as to not scare her, you slip your arms around her slim waist from behind. She’s like a block of ice in your embrace, at first. Her body thaws gradually, to the point she’s fully relaxed against you.
“Thank you for today.” the words don’t come easy –they’re like pulling teeth— but you manage to get them out clearly enough.
“You’ll thank me in very many ways, plaything.” she says. “Having your own belongings in the castle is not a privilege any maid gets. But.” her voice, although quiet, hardens the slightest amount. “If, despite my generosity, you harbor dreams of escape… I will turn them to nightmares.”
Your blood goes cold in your veins. You can only nod against her shoulder.
Cassandra turns in your arms to look at you.
“And if you ever try to leave me alone here… I will find you and kill you myself.”
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panlight · 2 years
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If you had the chance to rename the Cullens based on their time periods and personality, what would you pick?
Here's the thing about 'Carlisle': it makes absolutely no sense as a name for this era, but it's also somehow perfect for him? It's hard to think of this character being named something else. Honestly part of the reason I'm still so salty about 'Renesmee' is that I generally really liked the names she picked for pretty much all the other characters (okay "Beautiful Swan" is a little on the nose, but), which makes 'Renesmee' all the more like nails on a chalkboard to me in comparison. 'Carlisle' somehow has a sense of strength and gentleness at the same time, it's unusual but not made-up. It feels old fashioned and English even though it's not really accurate to the era.
If I had to pick something more realistic for the era, I'd probably skip over the list of most common names. Like 75% of men in this time period were named John, Richard, Robert, Thomas, William, Henry, George, Nicholas, Edward or James. But there were names we would consider weird or unusual in this era, too, that would still be historically accurate in a way 'Carlisle' just isn't.
Marmaduke. Lancelot. Tristam. Hercules. Cuthbert.
And of course if we make Carlisle's father hardcore Puritan, that opens up the Puritan hortatory names like "Stand-Fast" "Kill-Sin," "Humiliation" and "If-Jesus-Christ-Had-Not-Died-for-Thee-Thou-Hadst-Been-Damned" (this dude opted to go by 'Nicholas' instead and I don't blame him one bit).
tl;dr: 'Carlisle' is anachronistic but it works. If we want to be realistic, name him William or Nicholas. Percival or Lancelot would have similar weird, old, heroic sort of vibes, but seem unlikely for his father to have picked. Emmanuel? Ambrose?
Likewise Edward is just Edward. It works. Wouldn't change it. Edythe should have just been Edith. The whole point is that he has a boring, common name from his era; Edythe should have too. Ditto Alice. Totally works and is fine for the era. I legit really appreciated she didn't name her star characters like Tristan Apollo Cullen and Seraphina Cassandra Cullen or something. Edward Anthony and Mary Alice yes thank you.
'Esme' is the other one that really doesn't make much sense. I sort of assumed her family must have been of French origin for her to have that name, but even then they'd probably have used Esmee (with the accent on the second to last E that I am too lazy to manifest). I like how it's short and 'cute,' that seems to suit her. So maybe something with that same vibe. Use her middle name, Anne? Anna? Emma? Clara? Elsie? Kinda feeling Elsie.
Jasper is unusual but not unheard of. (Would actually have worked for Carlisle, too--there are a few from his era). He could probably keep it. "Ronald" would have been more statistically likely, but I don't think it has the right ~vibes. I'd probably just keep Jasper. Although it does read as a very old man name to me, fwiw, because I originally pictured Jasper Beardsley from The Simpsons.
Likewise Rosalie and Emmett are a little unusual for their time period but not anachronistically so. They were in use, just not widespread. Of all the names, 'Emmett' always felt the most modern and least old fashioned to me, probably because I went to school with an 'Emmett' so it was contemporary to me. (Likewise I had no problem with "Jessamine" in Life & Death because I went to high school with a Jessamyn, so it sounded perfectly 'normal' to me). There was in fact an uptick in the use of the name "Emmett" around the time he was born, so I think it can stay, too. I do feel like the nickname 'Em' is a little weird (especially when we also have an Emily and an Embry). With his last name having been McCarty in his human life, I sort of imagined his nickname would have been 'Mac' instead.
Rosalie was originally "Carol" but she could have also been 'Mildred" "Virginia" or "Evelyn" if we wanted popular names of the era. Like 'Emmett', 'Rosalie' isn't totally unheard of but not in the top 10. Carol just doesn't have the same fancy, look-at-me vibes as Rosalie. I'd probably keep 'Rosalie' because it would make sense that her parents would give her a kind of frilly name vs Mary or Helen or something. They always wanted her to stand out (unlike with 'Renesmee' when the Cullens are trying to blend in argh).
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jinmukangwrites · 3 years
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Day 5 (6-17): Aged-up | Mother and son | Brothers
Warnings: near death experiences, drowning, canon typical violence, kidnapping
Note: I felt like I've written a lot of Dick and Damian bonding this week... So I'm switching it out with Jason. I had other things I wanted to write for this prompt, but it got too late at night to write something long. Enjoy this short, hurt/comfort Jason and Damian bonding instead <3
-o-o-o-o-
Damian's only been captured for a few hours... and already he feels more miserable than he has in a long time.
None other than the Penguin stands before him, sneering cheek to cheek as his associates finish tying the knots around chest and the damp wooden pole his back leans against. The sand underneath him is rocky and sharp; he can already feel the curious laps of the returning tide against his tailbone. His hands are restrained behind the pole as well, while his legs are tied by his ankles. He's sitting, and stuck sitting thanks to the rope around his chest.
His head aches, which isn't very surprising considering the thing that got him in this situation was a well placed hit to his skull via a brick.
He didn't mean to get caught. He simply wanted to blow off some steam after getting fed up with Jason while on patrol. Of all people to be paired up with, it had to be Jason. It couldn't have been someone Damian gets along with like Richard, Duke, or Cassandra. It couldn't have been Timothy where they at least know when boundaries are being pushed with their banter. It couldn't have even been Stephanie, where she's at least funny.
No, the entire family was there, and Damian got paired with the one he doesn't know how to deal with. He got annoyed by the constant, demeaning tone Jason would use on him, and after one too many backhanded insults that only Jason found funny, Damian snapped. He doesn't even remember what exactly was said, he just knows he yelled at Jason to go on without him, and Jason didn't stop him when he turned the other direction.
Thinking back on it, Damian probably insulted him back, and the reason he let Damian go was because he was just as annoyed as Damian was.
It doesn't matter now. What matters is that he didn't intend to stumble upon the Penguin and his goons in some warehouse by the coast. He was just going to take down a few classic muggers or something of similar nature and go back to Jason and act like the argument never happened.
He intended to go back and tell his father about the Penguin's actions, but he didn't notice a pigeon until he almost stepped on it. Startled, it flew up at his face and he fell backwards right through the already broken skylight. He barely managed to slow his fall with his grappling gun, but he still hit the ground pretty hard. Hurt and surprised, he didn't have time to even stand up before the brick was smashed against his skull.
And now he's here, under Gotham's docks, being tied to a poll while the Penguin laughs to himself.
"I'll just let the tide kill you for me," he says to himself, yet his idiot goons still cackle. Damian glares at them, but they only laugh harder, sending down their own insults until the ocean water begins to pool up to Damians toes.
The Penguin makes a remark that it's time to go, and that he doesn't want to get his new dress shoes messy, and then they're gone, leaving Damian to attempt to tug on the ropes holding him against the pole. He tries to reach for the small blades he keeps in the compartments of his gloves, but his fingers come away empty. Curse Gotham's Rogues and their ability to actually use their brains and disarm their captives when they get their hands on them.
He strains harder on the ropes now, twisting and trying to reach any knots with his fingers, but all he succeeds in doing is cutting off the circulation to his hands and pressing the rope into his chest.
He relaxes with a frustrated huff and glares at the water that's already risen a few inches to ripple close to his hips. He knows that not long from now, the water will be above his head.
For now, it's freezing, and once it reaches his fingers, escape will become all the more impossible thanks to numbing appendages.
He tugs on the ropes, then tugs some more, and he keeps going until he has to stop and let the blood come back to his fingers.
The water continues to rise, seeping through his suit and into his bones, rising to his fingers, then his arms, then his shoulders... It's when it finally touches his chin when the despair and terror finally settles.
He can't get out. He can't get out. The ropes feel no more loose than what they were when he began trying to undo them, and his fingers are so numb now they must be turning blue under his gloves. His jaw aches from his chattering teeth, and his nose is beginning to run.
He pulls desperately on his bonds now, his attempts to escape becoming more and more reckless the longer he sits here. He's hyper-aware of the movement of the water around him, and his panic is making it difficult to breathe.
Through his terror, he hears something. The motor of a bike. He hears the engine cut out nearby. He can probably shout for help.
It's his last hope. He can only pray that whoever came to the docks at this hour of night, that they are friendly. He opens his mouth to yell for assistance, but he chokes when sea water enters his mouth. He scrambles his bound feet against the rocky sand, attempting to lift himself up the pole just a little higher, but he doesn't go anywhere. The ropes are too tight.
He's not sure if the water near his eyes is from him flailing in the water, or if it's because of frightened tears. Either way, he can feel the water tickling his nose, and he only has a split second to suck in one last breath of air before the water rises above any means to breath.
"Robin?" A deep voice shouts, and Damian could sob at the irony of it. "You here?"
Someone came looking for him, but they don't know where he is. He's going to drown under the feet of someone who could have saved him if they had come just minutes before.
The water rises over his head now, and he can no longer hear anything besides the racing of his heart. He can't feel his fingers or toes anymore, and he's sure he will drown with bruises under the ropes on his chest.
He's going to drown. He's going to die. His lungs hurt, already his oxygen is running out. He's panicking and it's cold and he's going to die-
He doesn't know how much longer he holds his breath, only that eventually, his mouth opens against his will and sucks in water that may as well be fire going into his lungs.
Black creeps into his vision... and with the last sight of dark bubbles erupting around him, he loses consciousness.
-o-o-o-o-
He wakes up vomiting. A strong hand wraps around his arm and holds him on his side so he can empty his lungs and stomach of salty sea water. It feels like his insides are being torn apart, but eventually it calms down a little so he can finally suck in a gasp of air.
The hand on his arm becomes two, snaking around his shoulder blades to sit him up and squeeze him against a broad chest.
"Holy shit," a familiar voice gasps, "Jesus fuck."
"J'son..." Damian murmurs, trying to make sense of what's going on. His throat feels abused, and his head pounds like drums. He's so tired, his eyes begin to drop.
"Nah don't you fucking think of it," Jason growls, pulling him away from his chest and giving him a hard shake. Damian blinks, trying to focus. Jason brings a hand up and brushes his dripping hair from his face.
Then, it all comes back to him. The tide... The water... He was drowning...
He thought he died.
But here he is, untied from the pole and on the docks, looking at Jason's bare and dripping face with his helmet castaway on the ground. He must have given him mouth-to-mouth... And his chest aches like he's taken a beating. Must be the combined bruises of the ropes and from chest compressions.
He's suddenly overwhelmed with emotions, all of his fear slamming right into him.
"You came," he croaks, not sure if it's because of his abused respiratory system or if it's because of his rekindled tears.
Jason's face twists, then he pulls Damian back in to squeeze him tightly once again. The hug is a surprise, and it hurts, but Damian doesn't fight it. He's too relieved and scared and confused and ashamed to fight it.
"When you didn't answer the comms, I thought you were still mad," Jason explains. The rumble of his voice in his chest against Damian's cheek is oddly relaxing. "But then it started getting late and I didn't feel right, so I asked Babs for your coords and- fuck- I thought I got you killed."
"How did you know...?" Damian asks, not willing to go further into the sentence and endure the pain of his throat.
Jason gives a laugh, and it's almost hysterical. "A lucky guess? I don't know, I guess it's just habit to look in the water when something goes wrong at the docks." There's a pause. Then Jason releases Damian once again. "I'm sorry. I said some things I shouldn't have. This wouldn't have happened if I kept my cool."
Damian shakes his head. It doesn't matter now. "You came."
Jason's lips twitch. "Of course I did. We're... Brothers. Even if we don't get along all the time, I still don't want anyone beating you up other than me."
Damian let's out a laugh, though it dissolves into a fit of coughs. Jason rubs his back during all of it, then once he calms down he helps him to his feet.
"C'mon," he says, "let's get you back home so Alfred can check on you. The sooner we get back, the sooner I can get getting yelled at out of the way for letting you go off on your own."
He helps Damian up to his feet, and Damian gratefully clutches to his jacket to steady himself. "I am to blame too. Once we tell father you helped save me, he will be less angry."
Jason snorts. "You think I'm worried about the old man? It's Dick I'm worried about."
"Ah," Damian grins, all the fear finally ebbing out from his system. "I'm afraid I cannot help you there."
Jason helps Damian onto the bike and returns his helmet so it's over his head. He holds Damian in front of him with one arm securely around his chest as he drives. He feels safe nestled against Jason like this. It's strong and unyielding. His relationship with the older man has always been strange, considering they weren't always on the same sides when Richard was Batman.
But this? This is safe. It's warm. Is careful and gentle. Normally he'd be embarrassed to be so vulnerable like this near Jason, but like Jason said... They're brothers.
He cannot help but feel a little disappointed once they finally make it back to the cave. Yet it seems he's misjudged Jason once again, because after he was rushed to the med-bay and Jason got an earful from Richard... he fell asleep and awoke the next morning with Jason still there.
Things may not be perfect with Jason, and they argue a lot, but Damians sure things have a chance of becoming better.
They're brothers, after all.
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dessarious · 3 years
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What Makes a Family? Pt13
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The next time Marinette woke it was still dark. She was in her bed this time and when she looked around she found Luka and Kagami on her Chaise and Chloe on the floor. It was a common enough configuration and Marinette was ready to just go back to sleep when Tikki spoke.
“Alfred’s downstairs and wishes to speak with you.” She fished around the bed for her phone to see the time. Four in the morning. That didn’t bode well. “I think he just wants to speak with you before the others arrive.” That comment woke her up like a blast of cold air. She was going to be meeting her birth father and his kids, not to mention her twin. She was absolutely not prepared for this. She quickly descended the ladder and then the stairs to the living room. Alfred was sitting at the kitchen counter with her parents.
“Tikki said you wanted to talk?” Her parents started but Alfred just smiled at her.
“Yes Miss. I would like to talk to you about Miss Cassandra before the others get here. She had a very… unusual upbringing and there are some things it would be best you knew beforehand.” She just blinked at him for a moment trying to figure out what he could possibly mean.
“Okay.” He looked to her parents. “They can hear it. I’m sure they’ll be meeting her sooner rather than later.” She didn’t want them at the initial meeting because she wanted to feel out Mr. Wayne without them glaring at him, but she had no intention of keeping them apart permanently.
“As you wish. Your mother made a deal with Miss Cassandra’s father. Her life in exchange for a child.” Marinette frowned. She wasn’t certain if it was worse that the offer had been made or accepted. “Talia used the agreement to also create you. Sort of a test run for Damian from what we can gather. Your mother was furious at the deception and since that wasn’t part of her deal she ran with you and left Miss Cassandra with her father.”
“Well that explains why she left me here. She never wanted children in the first place.” She watched her parents exchange a look and Alfred seemed at a loss. “But that’s not the point. You were going to tell me about Cass’s childhood.” Alfred gave a nod but hesitated.
“Yes. Her father had her bred and trained for one purpose. To be the perfect bodyguard for Ra’s al Ghul.” Her parents sucked in a deep breath and Marinette felt her mind go blank. That was… not what she expected. When she didn’t say anything Alfred continued. “She was meant to be the perfect weapon. He chose your Mother for her ability to read body language, and trained Miss Cassandra in only that and combat from birth. In order to do that he deprived her of everything else. She was not spoken to, so she never learned to speak, nor was she taught to read or write. She had no way to communicate with others.” Marinette felt fury that she’d never even imagined at that. At their mother, Cass’s father, and the league. How dare they do that to her little sister. That thought caused her to pause. She didn’t know their birth order… did she?
“How long was she there?” Her parents were side eyeing her and she realized how much anger was still in her tone. She couldn’t help it though.
“Until she was eight. She was sent on a mission and just never went back.” There was a lot more to that story, but she honestly would rather hear it from the source. So there had been five years between that and her being adopted by Mr. Wayne. Five years when she’d likely been completely alone. Marinette felt guilt well up even though she knew it wasn’t her fault.
“She’s been with Mr. Wayne for four years now so I imagine she’s learned some things.” Alfred reached forward to cover one of her hands and she gave him a small smile. He cleared his throat.
“She has. Her speech is still rather broken. She has trouble finding the words she needs. She’s far more fluent in sign language.” That made sense given she was far more used to watching than listening.
“Chloe knows ASL so she’ll be able to teach me, and translate if necessary.” She chalked it up to her luck that Chloe had decided to piss off her mother by learning sign language rather than something ‘useful’. Audrey had expected her to pick Mandarin or something else that was more widely used but Chloe noticed one of her mother’s employees in New York was deaf. That had been an interesting blow up.
“I have a feeling the two of you won’t have a problem communicating.” Alfred’s voice was dry but amused.
“They may not but the rest of us likely will. If Chloe doesn’t have time to help we’ll have to take classes.” Her Maman said it more as a proclamation than a comment and her Papa just nodded in agreement. She felt herself choke up as she thought about how lucky she was. That brought a new wave of guilt.
“We really are the epitome of good and bad luck. I have to wonder if it’s my fault her life was so horrible.” Tikki and Plagg both flew up to her face looking pissed off.
“Your good luck rubbing off on her in the womb is likely the only reason she was able to escape in the first place. It’s definitely the reason she ended up with your birth father. You are not to blame.” Tikki sounded certain and now she had a whole host of other questions.
“Tikki’s right. As my Chosen, bad luck and misfortune were bound to follow her. I’ll be able to shield her from the worst of it once she has the ring.” Plagg sounded… determined. She’d never really thought about that, but now she had to wonder if Plagg’s ‘I don’t care’ attitude was to cover their own guilt.
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remmushound · 3 years
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Curse of the Clan part 53! @selfindulgenz @scentedcandlecryptid
“How do we track Krang?” Leonardo asked when the story concluded.
“You don’t.” Was Knight’s answer, “If Krang is free, he will be seeking revenge on the ones who trapped him; it may not have been you in this life, but Krang will not see the difference. All you can do is wait and trust your instincts. You wouldn’t have been reincarnated if you couldn’t complete this task. He will come to you, and after he does and you defeat him, the council will be there to clean up the mess…
~~~
Back at the lair, Leonardo was stewing in his own thoughts. He, for one, was never good at waiting. If something had to get done, it had to get done right that moment, as soon as possible. No delays, no time for second guessing. Sitting there on the couch, surrounded by his family, doing nothing was the worst kind of torment! He just wanted Krang to find them and fast so they could handle the conflict and return to their normal lives. All this waiting was driving him crazy and he just felt so helpless—
“I feel the same way, Leonardo.” Splinter’s voice sliced through the silence like a blade and made everyone look toward him.
“What?” Michelangelo asked, the fastest one to break out of the silence that had plagued them.
“I feel helpless too.” Splinter said with a slow nod, closing his eyes in solidarity.
“Too?” Raphael asked slowly.
“Yes.” Splinter said; now he too was confused as he opened his eyes and looked around at the faces staring back at him. “Like… like Blue said.”
Silence, followed by Leonardo saying, “No I didn't…”
“No?” Splinter’s ears pressed back. He looked from Leonardo to the rest, who all shook their heads. “Oh…”
Draxum hummed, unamused. “I guess we found Yoshi’s power.”
More silence. The faint trickling of water was a constant this low in the sewer. The rumble of Donatello’s machines across the lair, the hum of the fridge, the low drone of the television that even Splinter wasn’t paying attention to. Eventually, the steady tapping of Leonardo’s fingers joined the melody of background noise.
“I want a kitten.” Michelangelo stated.
“What?” Raphael, and all others, turned to Michelangelo.
“After this whole Krang thing is done, I want a kitten.” Michelangelo stated again, closing his eyes and nodding matter-a-factly, “A fluffy orange kitten and I’m gonna name him Klunk. And I’m gonna buy him the most expensive cat trees to ignore, and give him wet food every day, and buy him lots of feather toys to play with. And he’ll sleep with me every day.”
There were a few moments of the clan looking around at each other, Michelangelo’s hopeful statements ringing in their minds.
“After we defeat Krang…” Leonardo was the next to talk, mind set on breaking the awkward silence, “You know what we’re gonna do? We’re finally gonna finish that Hip Hop Christmas Album.”
His words were met with groans from his father and siblings and confused murmurs from his friends.
“You’re still on that?” April groaned, shaking her head and laughing.
Leonardo threw his arms into the air in surrender. “It’s a good idea! Just because you’re all lame doesn’t mean a hip hop teenage ninja turtle mutant album isn’t a good idea! Have you heard my voice?”
“More than I would care to have.” Donatello commented, rolling his eyes.
“You’re welcome!” Leonardo said, flopping over to rest against Donatello and pull the softshell close, “Love you brother! And Let me guess; you want uranium when this is all said and done.”
“No.” Donatello said with a scoff, then immediately added, “Well— yeah. But I also wanna rebuild Shelldon…” Donatello carefully removed his necklace so he could hold Shelldon’s memory chip in his hand. He stared at it for a long, drawn out moment before Leonardo carefully brought his hand against Donatello’s so they were holding Shelldon together. Donatello finally smiled. “It… it’ll be my next big project… I really miss him…”
Leonardo smiled and rubbed Donatello’s shoulder, which in turn made Donatello rest his full weight into Leonardo and lay his head on his twin's shoulder. Leonardo welcomed the affection gladly and wrapped an arm around the softshell.
April took a deep breath through her nose. “I… would kinda like to start sending in college applications.” She brushed her hair out of the way of her face, “Thinking about going into journalism…”
That was met with an uproar of applause from all but Draxum, who didn't quite seem to know what college was. April was swarmed by hugs and affectionate touches from her friends as they praised her.
“You know we’ll support you every step of the way, Apes!” Raphael declared.
“Yeah! Just way the word and we’ll get you into any school you want!” Leonardo prodded April’s chest. “Within reason, of course.”
“Okay, we need role models, teachers, sources—we’re missing the references, people!” Donatello immediately pulled out his phone and started on seeking out potential references.
“Guys!” April laughed as she shoved the turtles off of her, “All I saw was I was considering it! Still gotta finish up school first.”
“It never hurts to be prepared.” Donatello said.
“Well… I’m not so sure what I wanna do yet.” Sunita said, laughing weakly as she twiddled her hair, “Maybe just get out in the workforce, try some things out…? Maybe something with children?”
“There’s no rush.” Draxum reassured, “I was well into my adult years before I realized I wanted to be an evil, warring warrior scientist!”
“And ignoring that note…” Splinter said slowly, then cleared his throat, “I want to adopt another goldfish. Since Piebald was flushed and mutated, I’ve been feeling a little bit lonely.”
“We can get you another one, Splints.” April smiled as she patted the old rats back affectionately.
“Pathetic!” Draxum growled, jumping from his seat and onto the table so he could make his announcement loud and proud, “While you waste your time adopting a normal, puny goldfish, I shall adopt a shark! And name him Sharky and train him to fight for our cause.”
“It’s not a competition…” Splinter grumbled, slightly jealous that he hadn't thought of it first.
“What do you want to do Cassandra?” Michelangelo asked innocently.
Cassandra considered. Then, taking a page out of Draxum’s book, she kicked over the chair she was sitting in so she could stand on it like a sailor on the bow of his ship tasting the salty winds.
“I want to rip our enemies to shreds, dance on their graves, then dig them back up and—“
“CJ, CJ, CJ.” Leonardo had to repeat the name a few times before he got Cassandra’s attention, standing up to address her while she stared down at him, “We’ve all been talking about, you know, getting pets and jobs and stuff. Killing and then dancing on the graves of our enemies is just a liiiiiiiittle much. So bring the bar just just a little bit. Just a little. Think smaller.”
Cassandra took a while to answer, struggling to think of just one, small thing she really wanted to do. She flipped her chair back over so she could sit backward in it and rest her head on the backrest. Her eyes lit up all at once and she finally knew what she wanted to do.
“I… kinda really want to rebuild my parents old bakery. It was burned down when I was just a kid and… and it was never rebuilt. It’s their legacy and I want to restore it if I can…”
“Aw, that’s sweet Casey…” April wrapped an arm around Cassandra and gave her a gentle squeeze, “If anyone can do that, it’s the great Cassandra Jones!”
“Thanks, Apes…”
“Raph?” Leonardo said with a gentle urgence, “You’re the last one. What do you want to do when we win?”
“I… it’s kinda stupid…” Raphael rubbed the back of his neck.
“We’ll be the judge of that.” Leonardo said, “Lay it on us!”
“I… kinda wanna do a secret santa gift exchange.” Raphael admitted, “One where we all make the presents and don’t just buy the first cheap thing we see. You know… something more special…”
Leonardo smiled widely. “That’s not stupid at all, hermano. In fact? I think that’s the best one yet!”
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bestworstcase · 3 years
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I know you were turned off to most cassunzel stuff by the fandom as per question 5, but what about Salty Ask 6: Has fandom ever made you enjoy a pairing you previously hated?
hm. i… don’t think so tbh?
the thing is for the most part i am pretty indifferent to shipping--like, i’m aro gkfhdjdks 95% of the time i really could not care less about the romantic lives of the characters in the story du jour except insofar as it has a marked impact on the story, and even then something like--eh, using gideon as an example, where you have this intense complicated fucked up relationship between gideon and harrow wound up with the rest of the story in such an integral and fascinating way--even then i’m not like, i don’t ship it in the fandom sense, i’m invested in it in the exact same way that i’m invested in, like, the resurrection beasts or the river. (sidebar i finally read harrow. lmao) or there’s things like spop or rwby where i enjoy watching textual romantic arcs build and come to fruition between the characters but that’s the extent of my interest in the ship--or returning to the subject of cassunzel, even before the fandom souring it i wasn’t really a cassunzel shipper so much as i liked (& still like) cass and rapunzel and cass quietly developing romantic feelings for rapunzel over the course of s1 is an important facet of the way i read cassandra’s character; which is… still the case now fhdndgc the souring has not actually meaningfully changed the way i read the characters or my take on cassunzel re: it being very toxic for cass so much as i have just become very bitter about the way the cassunzel side of the fandom tends to treat cass.
anyway the point being: i like stories, not ships. 100% of the time when i ship a ship it’s because it either: 1. adds something essential to the story that i find lacking in the actual text, and/or 2. creates possibility for transformative or divergent stories based on the original text. meaning, the quality that makes a relationship truly shippable for me, the necessary ingredient for me to SHIP a pairing, is making me want to write stories about it. not just fics but like--fully fledged stories a la bitter snow.
and… of course the way fandom shipping works is by and large just making the dolls kiss or be domestic together or sit around talking about their feelings or tenderly caring for each other and that’s fine but it’s BORING and does not make the writer brain go brrr so; if the actual text failed to provide the ingredients for my brain to make a big canon divergent or rewrite or au mess with in the kitchen of my hyperfixation then the fandom’s treatment of any given pairing is… probably not going to do my grocery shopping for me either.
as for pairings i hate--in contrast to just being, like, not a shipper lmao--& excluding the obvious of like, “that’s a literal child you want this adult to date” etc. where a pairing is just bad, if a ship is a NOTP it’s almost always a cassunzel situation where certain patterns of bad fanon / characterization i don’t agree with / tropes i dislike turns me off HARD on a pairing i was indifferent or lukewarm to, and once that happens there’s kind of no going back gjdhjk
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Me Rambling about Moon!Varian
aka none of my friends watch this show and I have to get my thoughts out about this somehow.
So I have a lot of feelings about the Moonstone Varian AU, which I know is dumb since the show’s come and gone and the theory didn’t come true. (Which I’m still salty about. I mean, come on, it would make so much sense! It would explain the blue streak in his hair, his immunity to Rapunzel’s hurt incantation in the s3 premiere, why the black rocks ravaged his town in particular, but I digress.) But heck, just because the theory didn’t happen, that doesn’t mean it’s not a good idea, so AU time. But my Moonstone Varian AU is different from a lot of others that I’ve seen, so I’m going to explain it. If that sounds like something you’d be interested in, keep reading under the cut!
1. Most fanfics/fanarts of Moon!Varian that I’ve seen take place around season one, when people thought it could be canon. That’s fine but I prefer ones that take place season three and beyond, when Varian has redeemed himself. Mostly because he’s already ashamed of what he’s done. So when he discovers he has destructive moon powers he freaks out, fearing that it’s going to hurt his friends and the kingdom and taking it as further proof that he’s a bad person. It’s just so much angstier that way.
2. Due to these fears he keeps his newfound powers from his friends for as long as possible. Of course they find out eventually. 
3. Backstory time! Varian got his powers due to his father taking a magic blast from the moonstone 25 years ago as seen in the episode “Beyond the Corona Walls” (Yes, Edmund and Adira took the blast too, but they didn’t have any children since then. I like to think if they did those children would have some moon powers as well.) He then passed that power onto Varian. 
4. Because he only has the powers of an energy blast and not the stone itself he doesn’t have all of the moonstone’s powers, just a part of them. Hence, why he only has one blue streak of hair as opposed to all blue hair. But, as we saw based on the damage that one energy blast did, it can still be pretty destructive. But probably not enough to like, level cities. 
5. Due to the point above, when Varian uses his powers only that one blue streak glows, along with his bright blue eyes. 
6. Quirin had wondered if his son had these powers ever since he saw the blue streak in his hair. He had hoped not, and since he showed no signs of powers for over a decade Quirin let his guard down and figured his suspicions were wrong. So, he never told Varian. (Let’s be honest here, there are a lot of things that Quirin didn’t tell Varian.) Varian’s not too happy that his dad kept this from him after he finds out. 
7. As to how he finds out? Well, I go back and forth on this one. I have one idea where he finds out when Cassandra kidnaps him and he has to tell her the black rocks incantation. Reading that incantation out loud is what triggers his powers. Cassandra is thrown off by this new discovery, as it kind of throws a wrench in her plans. But she can’t really change them as people show up to get him back pretty quickly. He tries to use his powers to help during the battle but as he just found out he had them it doesn’t go smoothly. 
8. The other idea? Varian finds out about his powers after the big climactic battle with Zhan Tiri, and his piece of the moon reacts, wondering where the rest of the moonstone went. 
9. No matter which origin story I go with, Varian’s powers don’t go away when the rest of the moonstone does, which scares him, and is another reason why he doesn’t tell Rapunzel. She’d thought the moonstone was gone, how would she feel if she found out that it wasn’t? Because of him? Plus, they don’t have the sundrop anymore so how could they stop him if his powers hurt people? Of course Rapunzel is sympathetic and tries comforting him when she does find out, because this is Rapunzel. But he still worries. 
10. Ever since his powers flared up black rocks (as well as occasionally some red ones) show up whenever he gets really emotional. Which is tough because he can be an emotional kid. He tries to use his powers to get rid of them right afterwords. 
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glorytoukraine2022 · 3 years
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Hi! I‘m new here, and, if anybody has read my blog, I said to expect a lot of character analyses, salty, or otherwise. Well, here comes the first one.
I want to make one thing clear to a lot of TTS fans out there. When we criticize and express our problems with Rapunzel and how she mistreats her friends, we’re not saying that her trauma and negative upbringing isn’t important. We are well aware of how Rapunzel was raised, who she was raised by, and the results of her negative upbringing. We are well aware that Rapunzel’s treatment of her friends results from the behaviors she observed from Gothel or that Gothel instilled in her. Rapunzel learned her behaviors from Gothel the same way we all do from the people we are raised by. We are not saying that Rapunzel needs to be perfect. We are not saying that Rapunzel isn’t allowed to make mistakes.
What we are saying is that none of this is an excuse.
The reason so many of us are frustrated and angry with Rapunzel, in some cases even hate her, isn’t because we have overwhelmingly high expectations of her. It’s because she never LEARNS from her mistakes and corrects them. She doesn’t GROW from them. She never makes the effort to unlearn the unhealthy behaviors that stem from 18 years of an abusive upbringing. And nobody with more experience who should know better (Eugene, Arianna, etc, etc) ever try to help her in unlearning them.
Rapunzel should not be coddled. She needs help. She needs to deal with her trauma and unlearn these unhealthy behaviors in order to be a good Princess, a good Queen, and just a functioning member of society in general. But she never does. She continues to believe that the way she treats people is okay. That she’s in the right. But she’s not.
As I said before, her trauma is NOT an excuse. Her trauma is NOT an excuse to hurt her friends and cause THEM trauma! Because that’s what she’s done! Rapunzel’s trauma is not an excuse to throw a panicking child into a fatal blizzard that could have killed him. Rapunzel’s trauma is not an excuse for leaving said child alone for months. Especially when said child was an orphan and his father, whom he was completly reliant on at the time, was trapped. Rapunzel’s trauma is not an excuse for not allowing her best friend to have her own life and disrespecting her boundaries at every turn. Rapunzel’s trauma is not an excuse for refusing to own up to her actions and admitting when she’s wrong. Her trauma is not an excuse to hurt others. It’s not an excuse for Rapunzel refusing to do the right thing. Over and over.
While Rapunzel letting Cassandra go at the end of the series gives me hope that maybe she’s moving in the right direction or that she realizes that she has a lot to learn about friendship, Rapunzel still has a LONG way to go before she becomes the friend and ruler that she needs to be. Until then, I do not have very high opinions on Rapunzel or high hopes for Rapunzel’s future as a friend or ruler of Corona. I’m not saying this because I am unaware of her trauma or have unrealistic expectations of her. I am saying this, because she has made no effort to change her ways. 18 years of abuse don’t go away easily. But until Rapunzel acknowledges her wrongs and makes a real effort to unlearn her behavior, she will only continue to fail as both a Queen and a friend.
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tokaywineandcheese · 3 years
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Hi! Poinsettia, Locust, Queen Anne’s Lace for the floral questions? ☺️
Heyo dim (sum)! Hehe. I really need a tag for you that’s not just ‘dim’ ;-; @1-800-i-ship-it blu can i steal your phrase and make it ‘wholesome dim’ becuz that is 100% absolutely correct.
(ngl i dont even know half of these flowers ;-;)
Poinsettia: Favorite holiday dish?
Um. I...don’t think I know any holiday--jk just thought of one. I may be dum. I love two holiday dishes actually, both of which I do not eat on their holidays lolol. The first is glutinous rice ball/tang yuan. More specifically, the black sesame one. That is the ONLY one I will eat. Red bean and peanut can both die, sorry. The other is zong zi! Which,,,idk the English name of. It’s like, glutinous rice stuffed with stuff (I like mushrooms and peanuts and uh,,,you know what, I don’t really know what’s in it,,,I just,,,eat,,,,but I like the vegetarian version) and wrapped in bamboo leaves. Okay actually....idk the difference between zong zi and luo mi ji I’m sorry ;-; I like,,,that thing. The salty one. SORRY DIM THIS IS PROBABLY CONFUSING TO YOU ;A;
Locust: What was your favorite book as a child?
This went stabbed me at the heart ;-; Pretty sure it was.......Percy Jackson? Lolol. It’s still one of my favorites. Though...what defines a ‘child’. Before I turned 18? Because I already loved Cassandra Clare and Brandon Mull’s books back then, and they’re still my favorite authors ;-;
Queen Anne’s Lace: Would you rather carve pumpkins or wrap presents?
I have never carved pumpkins and wrapping presents can be boring. Okay like, if it’s wrapping presents for friends, I will do that so diligently you don’t even know. It’s about the love put into it as much as the present itself okay ;-; But...if its generic wrapping presents? Ew, no thanks. I’d really prefer carving pumpkins. But...carving pumpkins and wrapping presents for friends? There’s no choice. There is no ‘would you rather’. I would enjoy both a lot :3
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You know, I never liked Cassandra’s personality or her redemption. She lacks compassion for others. Think of how Cassandra treated Eugene. It’s one thing to be skeptical about an ex criminal, but if they prove themselves and make amends, they should be given a second chance. Cassandra doesn’t see the person behind the criminal. She can’t look beyond their past. That’s what made her redemption ironic. She was shown the compassion she has denied to so many. Learning it should’ve been in her arc
Her whole arc was a hot mess, and S3 only made it worse. It could have been so good. At the end of S2, I was so pumped to see where it was going, and they flubbed the execution.
She’s also shown to be extremely untrusting of people when she meets them (read: Eugene, Lance, Adira), and so it made no sense that she trusted Zhan Tiri right away without even knowing her name.
Cassandra: Who are you? Zhan Tiri: A friend. Or, I’d like to be. Cassandra: Oh, okay! Makes perfect sense and requires no follow-up questions despite my previously-established character!
I mean, Cassandra does eventually start trusting people on an individual level, but it takes a long time for her. It wasn’t until “The Quest For Varian” that I personally started considering Eugene and Cassandra actual friends. We see them warm up to each other through the course of S1, but it wasn’t until Eugene called her cold blooded and she laughed it off and said she walked into it that I was convinced they were actually friends.
And it wasn’t until “Keeper of the Spire” that she called Lance her friend (in a general, “these people are my friends” comment, but it did get Lance to say, “Wait, we’re friends?”)
She never did start trusting Adira (obviously).
All that being said, though, Cassandra being forgiven speaks to Rapunzel’s personality and not Cassandra’s (not that I think Rapunzel should have just forgiven her, I’m still super salty about how Punzie acted in S3 a lot of the time, they wrote her so OOC in order to force their narrative). People might not think that Cassandra “deserved” to be forgiven, but it wasn’t really about what she deserved at the end, but what a good person Rapunzel is. I don’t think Cassandra deserved her redemption because up until Zhan Tiri took the Moonstone from her, she was completely prepared to just take the Sun Drop for herself. It wasn’t until she was double crossed that she was “sorry”. 
Honestly, the whole thing could have been so good, and they stumbled and tripped at the finish.
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dragonswithjetpacks · 3 years
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For anyone who was interested in my Cullen/Trevelyan fic, I've got four chapters up, now.
Beautiful War
Summary: Dame Claira Trevelyan is known to be a stubborn and off-putting woman. She was always told she never amounted to anything, that she was never pretty or graceful enough to marry. She believed that for the longest time. But her strength and her compassion managed to catch the eye of someone beyond her what she imagined possible. A man just as stubborn and oblivious to how his feelings for his leader are more than just respect.
Chapter Four: Agree to Disagree
Previous Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3
Read here on Ao3.
The requisitions for the journey into the Hinterlands were well underway. Word had not yet arrived how successful the troops were with aiding the refugees. But Claira had suspected the constant warfare in the area had much to do with their letters being intercepted. Or that there may have not been a chance to write at all. With her going to the Hinterlands, it would provide the others in the Inquisition with enough information to proceed further with their plans on the Breach. It was important not just as her first mission, but the Inquisition's as well. She needed to be ready.
"You're sure you don't need more?" Harritt asked as she watched the last of the supplies being loaded onto a cart.
"I'm certain, Harritt. If I take anymore, we'd be low on stock here. I'd hate to put you behind in orders."
"It's no trouble, my Lady. I'm happy to help."
"And I appreciate it every bit of," Claira smiled.
"How about the new setup? Is it fitting well?"
Harrit had known the lady was a warrior but heeded her request to remain flexible. The leathers were hardened but the metal was light, granting her the protection she required but also the movement of a quickened fighter. She looked down to admire her armor, fitted specifically to her measurements. With a smile, she could not recall the last time something was made so well for her.
"Like a glove," she patted her chest piece.
"So glad to hear it," he smiled proudly. "If I don't see you before you set off, make sure you take of yourself!"
"You as well, my friend," Claira waved and began to make her way toward the door into Haven.
The snow was falling lightly on the mountain and the sun was just warm enough to keep the bitterness at bay. It was a good sign. Claira pulled at her gloves, tightening them closer to her fingers. As she reached the stairway to the gate, she turned to observe the soldiers training. They were always loud. But today, they seemed particularly riled up. Their Commander was shouting at them, correcting their stances, and striding through the rows watching carefully. He seemed so focused, his brown lowered and his lips turned down into a stern frown. It suddenly softened as he caught Claira's stare.
"Lady Herald," he called after her, causing her to stop.
He trotted through his crowd of men, but he was in no true hurry. His hair was a bit tousled, no doubt from the exercise throughout the early morning. His cheeks were very red, but if anyone spent a good amount outside they would have the same appearance.
"Do you have a moment?" he asked.
"I do," she obliged him.
"We haven't gotten a chance to truly speak," he placed a foot on the first step and rested his hands on the hilt of his sword. "That's partially my fault. I apologize."
"Not at all," Claira shook her head slightly. "You're a busy man."
"Indeed," he smirked. "Correct me if I'm out of place, but I was wondering your stance regarding the mages and tempalrs?"
Claira paused. The intent was misguided in her mind, she was certain.
"I don't recall having a stance, Commander."
"Yes, with the disputing between us, I don't recall you having a chance to speak on it."
"And so you wish for me to speak on it now?" she looked around to find they were, in fact, alone in their conversation.
"I'm simply asking your opinion, my Lady."
He was doing his best to appear curious, but Claira could see through his hardened gaze that he was seeking an argument. Perhaps he felt he could sway her into siding with the templars, given her family was close with the Chantry. Or did he know of her origin at all? No, he most certainly knew. This was a ploy if she ever knew one.
"I've hardly had a moment to observe our situation. Of course, it will depend on who we are able to reach out to. As of right now, either option looks grim in this war."
"Of course."
"But... since you ask... I'm inclined to agree with Cassandra. The mages could also be of use."
"Is that so?" he shifted, his back straightening as if to form a wall she could not break down. "What of templars?"
"The templars?" Claira tilted her head. "Many of them still follow the Lord Seeker. They've holed themselves away from this. Nulled the Nevarran Accord. It doesn't seem rational, to be honest."
"So you're saying the templars are lost?"
"What? No. No, you've proven that, Commander. But I fear there is no hope for the Order. They will act on their own, now. And it appears they have chosen to turn a blind eye."
Cullen grimaced breaking the eye contact they held. "I'm a bit disappointed to hear you say that."
"Well, I'm not here to please you. Or anyone for that matter."
"Then you won't mind humoring me with your reasoning?"
"Did you question Cassandra or Leliana with their judgment?" Claira crossed her arms against her chest.
"I trust their judgment."
"Oh!" Claira shouted, composing her stature even further. "Is this about trust, then?"
Her voice was louder than she thought, causing a few of the lingering scouts to look in their direction. But they did not stop their altercation in spite of a few curious eyes. In fact, Cullen stepped upward onto the stair his foot was resting on, bringing him closer to the Herald.
"Why wouldn't it be? They're the Hands of the Divine! She trusted them with her life."
"And they agree with my opinion, so what makes it different?"
Claira was not backing down. She matched his move, placing her dominant foot forward and down a stair. There was a respected distance between them, but the tension that rolled within that space was crashing as waves would against a rocky cliff. Many of the soldiers felt uncomfortable nearby and retreated to their tents.
"Because they'll agree with anything you say because you've been labeled the Herald of Andraste," he pointed a finger at her.
"And you'll disagree with it because that would mean things wouldn't go your way. You templars are all the same."
"What do you know of the struggles of templars and mages? The Trevelyans have been catered to for years."
"You know nothing of the Trevelyans."
A nerve was struck, and he knew it quite well. Her voice was deep and cold. Her arms dropped to her sides but her shoulders remained upright. The waves seemed to subside but the cliff remained vigilant. They both stood, their eyes not leaving the other as if to wait for some sort of outburst.
"Perhaps we should end this conversation," she lowered her tone. "I have important things to attend to before nightfall."
**********************************************
A night drinking at the tavern was not going to fix things for her, and she knew that very well. But going back to the Chantry meant packing for the next day. And her mind was far too busy with other things to focus on that. A few drinks would quiet her thoughts. Or so she would have herself believe. She looked down into her drink to find her reflection at the bottom disappointing. She cast it aside, alerting the barkeep of a refill.
"You look stressed," she said.
"I think I need a good rest," Claira muttered, toying with the handle of her mug.
"It might just be me, but I think sleep is the least of your concerns, Lady Herald."
There was no doubt she was right. Claira tapped the bar side, feeling her anxiety rise again. It shot up from her calves to the base of her neck and no matter how long she bounced her legs up on the barstool, it would no go away. Who was he to judge her? Why was he so salty about disagreeing with him? Why did he feel the need to bring her family into the equation? Why was he yelling? Why did he have to get so close? Why was he so pleasing to look at? No... no, no... He had no right. To be that way or to be so-
"Damn it all," Claira sat back in her chair, throwing her mug up as she let the liquid courage flow down her throat.
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Cullen was in the wrong. He was just too arrogant to admit it. Still, each time the anxiety rose to rear its ugly head, she felt that slight twinge of guilt with it. Claira was a horrible liar. Even to herself. She knew she needed to apologize. She didn't know what for. Perhaps she was in the wrong for acting harshly. Or for insulting him as a templar. It mattered not. Leaving the argument as it was would cause it to fester with negative thoughts, eventually spreading doubt like a disease. It would not only be a poor way to start their fellowship with the Inquisition but also jeopardize their future of working together. It was the right thing to end the bickering now.
"Commander, the fires have nearly gone out from the cold," a captain complained while still attempting push-ups.
"Then I suppose you should have thought of that before taking a break this morning to eavesdrop."
"Yes, sir," he groaned.
Cullen's pride was often stronger than he'd like to admit. He didn't want to say his stance on the templars was wrong, but he refused to admit there was another way when he was so easily dismissed as if his thoughts and experience had no place at the table. Regardless of the Order, the templars were a part of something he felt compelled to. It was not so easy to let go and if he could do something for them, he would always choose them. There was respect for Cassandra and Leliana, and he would gladly discuss his intentions freely with them if given the chance. But something about Claira made him irritable. He knew nothing about her. And yet he was supposed to take counsel from her? He was confused and suspicious of her actions. There were still many questions he needed to be answered in order to comply with her demands. Where was she during the rebellion? Why does she sympathize with the mages when the rest of her family sent aid to the templars? Why did she feel so strongly about the mages when she had clearly never been around them?
He rubbed his chin in thought as he recalled the fierce expression when she loomed over him on the staircase. She stood against him when many would not. Still, he knew he should not have been so aggressive. A simple talk to get to know her would have sufficed. Instead, he responded with anger like a fool.
"That's enough, soldier," he said, wanting to find peace on his own. "We should get some rest. It's been a day."
Cullen was off toward his tent, too stuck in his own mind to pay attention to the sarcasm across the field. Many of them were joking under their breath about the Herald. She was fearless. And he had to admit, she most certainly was. He entered his tent, shedding his pauldrons along with his cloak and rubbing the back of his neck. A good sleep would do the trick, but he was convinced that the restlessness he felt would not allow that to happen. Claira was leaving the next morning. As much as part of him wanted to say good riddance, the other half wanted to seek her out. With nothing but doubt chasing his thoughts, he grabbed his cloak and wrapped it around his shoulders. If sleep would not ease his thinking, then a decent walk would have to do. He set out toward the pond at the edge of the camp.
**********************************************
Claira knew that since the sun had set, she would find Cullen in his tent. This made her even more nervous. It was difficult enough for her to seek him out, but to intrude into his personal space was beyond challenging. She would be out of her element. Then again, it was more important for her to settle things rather than let her own arrogance show. The closer she grew to his tent, the louder her heart banged against her chest. She stood in front of it for a moment, studying the slightly lifted flap. She couldn't hear him inside, even when she called out to him quietly. She lifted the canvas and found there was no one there. There was a candle, barely lit. And his pauldrons rested on a wooden chest. His bed was left messy. And there were garments unfolded but placed neatly on top of a chair next to his desk. He must not use it that often. She blushed upon seeing them, allowing the door into the tent to fall. Turning away, she half expected to return to her quarters.
"He's brooding again," she overheard a couple of scouts walking toward their tent.
"He's always brooding," the other replied.
"Not his usual brooding. This is serious."
"What makes you say that?"
"Didn't you hear? The Herald had a bit of a disagreement with him this morning. He's been sulking ever since."
"Well, who would argue with the Lady Herald?"
"I mean, it's good someone does, right? There should always be someone with a different look on things."
There it was. The guilt again. She couldn't go back to bed, now. For Maker's sake, the troops thought he was sulking of all things. Pulling her tunic tightly against her neck, she made her way to the edge of the camp. The next place she thought of was the training dummies. But as she cleared the tents and saw them lined before her, she was nearly blinded by the sight of the moons. They cast long dark shadows that contrasted the white snow. Just beyond the camp, she could make out the outline of someone walking along the edge of the pond. There was no doubt about it. It was Cullen.
As she approached him, she felt a rush of impatience as if the fingers of anxiety traced her spine. It sent a cold chill down her back. But then she caught the silhouette of the side of his face, his cheekbones and nose standing out against the cold moonlight. The trim of his fur shifted in the wind along the lining of his neck. He wasn't wearing his pauldrons and she caught a glimpse of his tunic hanging loosely from his chest. She caught herself looking and wondered why so suddenly she was thinking of him this way. Surely, it was the ale. But despite his good looks, she pressed on, reminding herself that physical appearance was only a distraction.
"Good evening, Commander," she called out to him as she neared the banks of the pond.
He turned, clearly surprised as she grew nearer.
"If I could have a word?" she requested.
Cullen looked back out toward his men, still buzzing through the camp. They were well occupied. He wanted to go back to them. He wanted to tell her no. He was not interested in what she had to say. But curiosity took the better of him. Though, he took a good long while before answering her. The brightly lit moons made the snow glow around them, reflecting light onto her pale skin. He had noticed her freckles after being so close that morning, but never really looked at them on her face. They traced her cheekbones under her eyes. And along the left side, she had a faint tattoo. It also appeared that her hair was cut by her own doing, being much longer on one side than the other. Her nose was quite prominent but her lips were full. As were her cheekbones. And her eyes were shaped like almonds. For a moment, he lingered on how she was quite beautiful. He also noted she was still in her armor, which meant she never went back to her quarters. Which led him to believe she lied in order to end the conversation.
"Of course," he responded plainly.
Claira was quiet for a time, listening to the sound of their feet crunch through the snow. She thought it would be rude not to appreciate the moons and the setting it had laid before her. The stars were always so clear above them. But for that night, they glistened with magic in the sky. If anything were to go wrong, she hoped she could at least remember that moment.
"I want to apologize for my behavior," she finally began. "I feel terrible for the way I've spoken to you."
Cullen wanted to agree with the statement but quickly shut his mouth. He would not ruin the conversation the second it had begun. If she wanted to speak, he wanted to be welcoming.
"It isn't just me you are disagreeing with. I shouldn't take it so personally," she continued.
Claira stopped after realizing they were closer to camp, now. She did not want the others to hear as much of their conversation as they had before. Cullen gestured toward his tent nearby.
"You were rather defensive from the beginning," he pointed out. "I'm not exactly sure where the conversation took its turn."
Claira reflected upon their previous encounter as they approached Cullen's tent. He lifted the flap for himself but did not bother to appeal to the courtesy of welcoming her into his sleeping quarters. She flinched as it fell upon her, but stepped in, regardless. He was reaching across his shoulder to untie his cloak when she spoke.
"To be fair, you were rather demanding."
He stopped for a few seconds to glare in her direction. Looking slowly back over to his shoulder, he wisked his cloak off with one gesture and lay it across his exposed garments. She was correct in guessing he was not one for sitting but also embarrassed for peering into his tent without his presence.
"No, you're right," he said, squinting at a scroll written in small lettering. "Your interrogation should have ended the moment Cassandra began to trust you."
He put the letter down but has hands pressed against the desk for longer than they should have. He closed his eyes, lower his head deep in thought. Guilt and forgiveness were not emotions he was good at portraying.
"I couldn't have expected everyone to set aside their doubts," she assured him. "You were right. They value my decision-making due to the circumstances. I haven't considered this and have taken that thought lightly. It's just... it still feels so odd. The title hasn't settled with me. I do no understand its weight. I only feel like myself. Like a person."
"You humble me, my Lady," Cullen sighed as he straightened up. "I should not have doubted you, to begin with. I apologize."
"No no, please," she insisted, stepping toward the candlelight. "As a leader, I should reflect on my impact on others as well as listening to opposing opinions. When the time comes, I want you to come forward."
"When the time comes?" he questioned her wording.
"I'm truly not certain of what will happen between the templars and mages. The Hinterlands will be a representation of this war. I know where I stand, but there will be a time for all of us to speak. And I hope you will continue to speak your mind."
"Even if we disagree?"
"In most circumstances, I would ask for you to speak if you disagree," she affirmed. "I find an arguing opinion can leave an open-minded compromise. However, it appears with this specific case, we seem to be... stuck. It's a sensitive subject for us all. But that doesn't mean you should change your mind because no one agrees with you. I won't suppress your choice. I do hope, though, that we can move past this disagreement once the decision is made."
Claira knew her truth would put Cullen at ease. But she owed him nothing. Especially if he was going to be difficult to reason with. In return, Cullen felt the very same. At the very least with their conversation ending in agreeing to disagree, they could tend to the matter more delicately without a bitter taste for the other. They knew in the near future, they would clash once again. And hopefully, when that happened, their understanding would have grown.
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rabbitsparklez · 4 years
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Cassandra⭐
This will be pretty long, so grab some snacks.
*breathes* Okay. At the end of the show, I think I can just plainly say that I don't like her. (If you don’t want to hear negativity on Cass, don’t read the rest of this).
It took me forever to warm up to having a new main character in a show that follows my favorite movie, especially since she and Eugene didn't get along in Season 1. I'd say I had warmed up to her by S2 and thought she was a fun addition to the "adventure squad", but she dropped down again for me at the midseason. From that point and throughout Season 3, I just got more and more frustrated with her. There are 3 main reasons why I don't like her:
She’s toxic and a bad influence to Rapunzel.  I don't think I have to go into much detail about this, since it's probably already obvious. Ever since the beginning, she's had a toxicity towards Rapunzel by telling her who to and not to trust, what to do, how not to do things - and she wasn't "politely correcting her", she was nagging her and making her feel bad about everything she did wrong. Eugene accepted Rapunzel for who she was, and saw a good person in her instead of the object that Gothel saw her as, but Cassandra needed solid appeasement to make any peace with Rapunzel, and the show called that "friendship". Let's not get started on Cass blaming Rapunzel for everything bad that's happened to her when it was clearly not her fault in the least. Rapunzel didn't need any more toxic influence in her life, and here we have Cassandra, who she calls her best friend. Don't get me wrong, Rapunzel was also unhealthy by desperately wanting Cass to come back when she made it clear that she wanted to have nothing to do with her, but I think that it has something to do with Mother Gothel's influence on her. Since the beginning, I've strongly suspected that a lot of the reasons Rapunzel was so drawn to Cass was because she was used to being told who to be and what to do. I'm still salty over the fact that the are called "best friends", when it's so poisonous from both sides. And I hate, hate, hate it when people ship them. 
She cost too much. So they added a new main character to a three-season spinoff of a movie - and made half the show about her. That alone is wrong, but I'm angrier over the fact that they pushed everything out of the way to clear a path for her. There are so many explanations and plot points that they could've talked about, but they decided to make the show all about her instead. The fact that she was a bad influence on Rapunzel, as I mentioned before, blockaded Rapunzel's character development and made her a weaker character. In the midseason of Season 2, I was so happy to see Rapunzel standing up for herself and not letting Cassandra tell her what to do, but Season 3 was like that never happened. I had hope in "Cassandra's Revenge", seeing that she had moved on a lot, but in the finale, after all of the horrible things Cassandra put her through, she's still pining on to her. Rapunzel is supposed to be a resilient and independent character, and this situation was poison for her character development. Even at the end, Cass' redemption was incomplete. She just said "I'm sorry" and left. She paid no consequences, and that made Rapunzel look bad, because she could've sent her to prison but didn't. The worst thing of all is how Cassandra effected Eugene in the show. She practically replaced his character importance and I will NEVER be okay with that. So many times he was sidelined so that Cassandra could be focused on, because the writers knew that Eugene would handle things differently - but again, Cassandra took up half the show and Eugene was sidelined so many times that it's like he doesn't even matter. But let's face it - Eugene is the most influential and critical character in this entire franchise.  Rapunzel wouldn't be here, Gothel would still be around, and so much more would have happened if it wasn't for him. Moreover, he is one of the most complex, unique, and most carefully designed Disney characters - but the writers basically threw all of that to the dumpster so they can focus on a different character. I hate everything about that. Of course there's going to be someone who argues with something along the lines of  "Eugene is one of the main characters and is in almost every episode! He gets plenty of focus!" .... but they completely miss my point. Any character who adds humor and a reason for dialogue to take place can be around for many episodes, but they turned Eugene into that character. Why? Because he's the "dorky boyfriend". But more importantly than the "dorky boyfriend", Eugene is the foundation to Rapunzel's life. He saved her in many ways, and even died for her. "No Time Like the Past" is an abomination and should be destroyed. Eugene said something valid and reasonable, but of course they had to show that Cass was still redeemable, so why not change his mind to make him agree with her? They literally invaded a character's mindset to make him agree with something. That's wrong on so many levels! (Well "Flynnpostor" made a point that showed that this episode technically never happened, so I'm thankful for that). So much potential was wasted in making Cassandra a main character. Everything was bent to make the story about her - Rapunzel's mental health, the safety of Corona, Eugene's persona, and a large portion of the plot. And she’s not even an original movie character.
She’s Uncharacteristic. This is probably just in my opinion, but I don't like the fact that she doesn't fit into the theme of the show. One of the things I've always loved about Tangled is that it's so unique. It is very distinguished from other Disney movies by it's character aspects and gags, such as magic hair, criminals, frying pans as weapons, a hilarious duo of animals, friendly thugs, and so much more. But Cassandra just.. isn't Tangled. She's a character with little sense of humor, who wants to be a warrior. I won't judge anyone who likes her personality or the fact that she's different from the theme, but it annoys me because, as I said before, she's almost the main focus of the show. Also, she judges some of the other characters for their personal characteristics such as Rapunzel's optimism and energy, and Eugene's witty charisma and waywardness. 
In conclusion... She's taken too much of a show that's she's completely different from. She not only stole characters' roles but was a bad influence on them. I know that people are going to disagree, and that's okay because we've all got different opinions, but please leave this as it is. Saying otherwise will not change my mind. Thank you again!
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minijenn · 3 years
Text
Actually, while I’m looking at this old list of Keys plot ideas, I gotta say some of this early stuff i had planned out is waaaaaay different than what’s actually in Keys. Soooo allow me to indulge you all with some commentary on Beta Keys to the Kingdom, if you will (under the cut bc of potential Keys spoilers): 
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Ok, so far so good, generally the same as what I’m sticking with in Keys, fun fact, the title “Keys to the Kingdom” didn’t originate until I came up with the idea of the 13 Keys. It’s original title was “Reconnect”
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LOLOLOL Aquanort showing up in the very next chapter I’m boutta write would like to have a word with 2018 MiniJen
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Ok, generally on the level (though the focus did sort of shift from the Heart Squad when I eventually came up with the whole Keys idea, but tbh Sora spends a lot more time in Keys trying to get those three out than he does in KH3, that’s for fucking sure) 
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Love to see that each of these plot points were pretty early ones I came up with; We may not see a lot of Vanitas’ redemption arc until way later on in Keys but its something I had in mind since almost the very beginning
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Ohohoho that last one is interesting, huh? Almost like I’m a sucker for parallels or something ;) 
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Yeah this is pretty on the mark with what Keys’ second half is gonna look like imo 
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Oof that second one tho, i mean its not like Kairi doesn’t wanna help Namine but this girl’s got a lot on her plate already with her runaway boyfriend XD 
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Lol you can clearly tell that first one was concieved way before I fucking started planning the Beauty and the Beast chapters XD 
Ooo and then i wrote a few preliminary notes for some of the Disney worlds so let’s take a look at those, starting with Beauty and the Beast: 
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RIP in pieces the idea of Gaston and Maleficent working together, i don’t even know what I was thinking with that XD 
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Kinda went soft on that  theme of “what makes a monster” in the actual chapters, but its there if you squint I suppose. Also “should fall relatively early into story” lol ok fam (proceeds to put it almost halfway through the story)
Then we go onto the notes for the Moana chapters and yeah this is all pretty on the mark tbh not much to say here: 
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Then we get to my Tangled notes and WOW what a huge difference we have here: 
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First of all, set during the series, how fucking interesting. Second of all, I guess I just forgot to include Cassandra in that list??? Third of all, Xehanort why you keep recruiting fucking twinks to your evil bidding????
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Not gonna lie tho, Sora bonding with Varian would have been sweet and pure 
And ah boy some pretty somewhat spoilery Gravity Falls world notes: 
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First of all, I’m still very keen on the idea of Sora basically just adopting the Mystery Twins bc they’re pure and innocent ahaha; second of all, lol Bill working with Xehanort? Fuck no to that, what was I thinking XD  Bill is an agent of his own chaos, that fucking triangle flies solo (but will still 100% manipulate my poor son, he just gotta do it, whether its in UF or in Keys) 
Then I also made a list of things to keep from KH3 and things I wanted to change so for funsies lets look at stuff I wanted to keep:
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Yep yep these are pretty much on the mark, yep (especially that Sora sass XD) 
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LOLOL RIP IN PIECES THE DEMYX AND VEXEN REDEMPTION ARCS WHOOPS NOT IN MY KEYS XD
Speaking of stuff not making it in, here are things i planned on changing: 
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Several things here: 1. I guess i didn’t focus on Riku and Mickey’s search for Aqua that much after all (didn’t want the story to be bloated, it already has so much going on in it); 2. Following the plots of Tangled and Frozen, yes, but what I failed to put in there, is allowing the KH characters to be more involved in those plots which is what KH3 should have done
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loloolollololo its almost like you can tell I’m salty about how KH3 ended or something???? idk hahaah salty about plenty of other things in KH3 too, I fucking went off here
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Again its almost like I’m salty about certain things in KH3 like no Destiny Trio interactions or Kairi’s arc being fucking botched and wanted to fix shit in Keys whoops XD 
And finally we have stuff I wanted to take out of Keys from KH3 entirely: 
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Lol I’m lying about that last one aohohohohohohohohohohohhohohohoho
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Several things here but most importantly, was there really ever a point that I considered killing Kairi off in Keys? Because if so I’m a fucking moron. Same with considering giving Xehanort any kind of redemption, that old fuckhead is gonna fucking die the death he deserves in Keys. Also not really including any replica stuff at all; But RIP in pieces Re:Coded and Verum Rex, ya won’t be missed, at least not by me 
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