Didn’t Quite Turn Out How I Wanted, And Very Much Inspired By The Most Recent Episode Of Steven Universe-

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Happy 40th Anniversary to the Transformers

Feel free to check out the tribute I made for this special occasion.

Forgetting Jim...

I just thought of something that really makes me sad…now that Jim is a troll, will they forget what he was like as a human? I know he’s technically both, but let’s face it, there is very very little resemblance to human Jim in his half-and-half form. Even his personality has undergone some understandable changes, though at his heart he is the same.

It’s an established fact that over time, we as humans forget details, even about the ones we love, especially if they’re no longer around. And Merlin blatantly states that “There is no Jim.” Jim as a human? He’s gone for good. He is forever changed, and if he has the lifespan of a troll now…well… 

It’s just really kinda heartbreaking to think that Blinky, Claire, Toby, etc. will start to forget human Jim. Like imagine if one day, for whatever reason, they’re in Arcadia and come across a picture of Jim when he was human. And Claire, or Blinky, or even Jim himself, is just like “Wow, I forgot that’s what I was like.”

They’ll forget what his smile was like. That he used to sound different (though I know that’s the Grave Sand’s doing, not Merlin’s). They’ll forget how skinny his legs were (ha ha). They’ll probably forget what his favorite foods were. There are so many tiny, yet significant things that will be lost to time.

And what really worries me? If enough time were to pass, assuming he can live for centuries, once his human loved ones are gone, what if the trolls forget he ever was human? Like, I’m sure they’ll know it as a fact, but what if they forget the reality of it? What if Jim’s abilities and accomplishments as a troll completely overshadows everything he did before he ever was one? What if they forget the enormity of what he lost, what he sacrificed, in order to save two worlds?

Idk if anyone else will find this as sad as I do, but human Jim to me was such a wonderful wonderful character. I loved him so much, and it still hurts that he was eradicated. As much as I love new troll Jim, I just don’t think I’ll ever fully be over what we lost.

That’s it, son

From this video

Imagine this: Jim is injured after battle, he's found by some hapless bystander and taken to a hospital (lets say not the one Barbara works at or this would all be moot) and Strickler has to lie and say he's Jim's father to get in a run damage control.

Jim’s voice is slurred, and whether it’s the result of meds or pain, Strickler can’t tell. “Man…I’m…I’m winning at the dad category, aren’t I?” 

Strickler takes a cursory glance to make sure the nurse has left the room before raising a brow to the young Trollhunter - and gods, but he is young, Strickler needs to remind himself at times, Jim’s fortitude and wisdom is so often beyond his meager human years. “You and I both know that I had to say something that would let me in–”

“First dad runs off on me and Mom,” continues Jim, and oh dear, his eyes are glazed. “Second dad isn’t even my dad. Second dad just lied ‘cause that’s what he does. Lies and pretends and then, for a grand finale, tries to kill me–”

Strickler’s jaw tenses. This might be the meds or the pain talking, but it doesn’t mean he has to care for what he’s hearing. “I do believe I’ve made up for –”

“You really were close, you know? Like, so close to winning it all. The Father Figure of the year. You were my favorite teacher. Totally loved our office hours together.” Jim’s head lolls against the pillow. “You really had me buying it, you know? You caring about me. Are all Changelings great at that?” 

“I did care.” Strickler’s throat is tight, his heartbeat hard in his chest. Damnation, but he shouldn’t react like this, like he’s under attack, he owes this boy nothing–

–he owes this boy everything–

“You didn’t make Mom cry, though. You’ve got that going for you.” Blue eyes meet his, glazed but still somehow focused upon him, a blade being trained upon a target, searching for damage to be done. “Just made her hate you. When she remembered it all, anyway. Now she just misses you. Why do we do that? Miss what hurts us the most? I used to miss my dad, y’know. But I got better. Maybe she’ll stop missing you.” 

Strickler closes his eyes, a terrible thing to do when faced with an enemy, and damnation, he never wanted this boy to be his enemy. 

Seeing him hold the amulet, that first time, and what did his traitorous heart say?

“No. Not him.” 

Jim sighs, long and thready and oh so tired, settling onto the hospital bed as best he can. “I never told her, y’know. About my troll hunting. I broke my promise. Guess that makes both of us liars. But my thing is, I care too much. You never cared at all.” 

“Lies.” Strickler wishes his voice was sharp, a blade to defend himself with, but instead it’s a strained, whispery thing. “You think it that simple? You think I wouldn’t give anything not to care? I wish I had that power. I wish–”

I wish the amulet had never chosen you, I wish I had never met your mother, I wish I had never tasted her kiss, I wish I had never cared at all–

“I do care.” The admission is soft, barely clearing his teeth. Jim doesn’t even seem to hear it, so near silence it is. Strickler blames the thing in his throat, whatever the hell it is. He clears his throat, tries again. “I do care, Young Atlas.” 

Jim is silent, his eyes closed, lashes low upon his young cheeks. Gods willing, he could be sleeping off that damned, truth-inducing medication…

Jim’s whisper is soft. “Then act like it, Dad.”  

Scalped and beheaded multiple times

“He took my left hand!”

We know now that Merlin cut off Morgana’s hand and forearm and melted it down to infuse it into the metal parts of the Amulet of Daylight. (Were they already enemies by that point, or was that the final straw that made them official enemies?)

Maybe the hand was supposed to give the Trollhunter resistance to Morgana’s magic?

Angor Rot could not harm whoever wore the Inferna Copula, made of his flesh and containing his soul (though that didn’t somehow stop him from smashing the ring when nobody was wearing it - maybe because that was an accident). Angor’s eye is put in the amulet to counteract Angor Rot’s magic, and the Triumbric Stones (at least one of which was once physically part of Gunmar) are used by the Trollhunter to resist Gunmar’s mind control and create the Eclipse Sword, which is implied by the narrative to be the only thing able to kill Gunmar. 

I suspect the arm in the amulet was supposed to be more of the same.

(Also, there’s clearly part of her arm being melted in that cauldron, but since she screams, “He took my left hand!” rather than “He took my left arm!”, the cut was probably made below the elbow joint. Cosplayers, make a note.)

You are working the gate in the afterlife and for the first time ever, something the humans built has shown up to be processed. You’re not sure what to do, this… entity shouldn’t have a soul, but here it is in front of you, freshly dead and awaiting the next life.

Cybertronian food dump! Designing this stuff is addictive.

1) a typical cafeteria meal at the JAAT. Maccadam ensures the students get only the best, even occasionally arranging for “culture fuel” days, serving dishes from different city-states or colonies.

2) if you let steel woolies sit long enough, you get rust bunnies, delicious lil bunches of spice. It’s pretty easy to make them (Whirl keeps a bunch of steel woolies under his berth and just lets them rust until they’re ready), but commercial grade rust bunnies have grease and seasoning that adds to the flavor.

3) cyberflora aren’t really alive like organic plants are, but they do contribute heavily to the energon cycle, metal distribution, and energy generation of Cybertron. This one is called a brollypalm, a solar collector that gathers energon and charges it to a sweet buzz with the energy. Brollypods can be cracked open and drank, or they can be chilled to a gelatinous solid and eaten.

4) I have nothing to say about RAM-En except for the fact you’d better appreciate the pun.

I don’t think that we, as a society, talk enough about Uther cc’ing someone on the email