#ETA: can't be dead

[pure-mornings]

[lostandbackagain]

why do y'all pronounce shallan Like That like everyone's pretty united on stressing the first syllable and saying a as ă in tsa characters' names so why is shallan different

[fadingstrawberrynightmare]

order of writing. below is first. tags second. picture of text from friend and text after it are last.

by anticipating my needs when you thought I was distressed you are continuing to carve a place in my heart

I do think I would be at my best with two. specifically these two.

my friend is right. but do I even have the capacity to employ this in a way that allows me to enjoy you in all of the ways that I want

[queen-mabs-revenge]

The inquiry ruled that the Scotland Yard unit was not justified in intruding deeply into the private lives of campaigners, including their sexual relationships, and suggested it should have been disbanded early in its existence.

The inquiry found that the managers of the unit frequently approved reports that contained “many examples” of racism and sexism.

Senior Whitehall officials, some of them in the Cabinet Office, and top police officers knew about the unit, which was part of a highly covert state-funded apparatus that spied on leftwing and progressive groups, the inquiry concluded.

The critical evaluation of the unit, known as the Special Demonstration Squad (SDS), was made public on Monday by David Barr KC, the inquiry’s most senior barrister.

He said the unit’s “operations have caused a lot of harm. Democratic freedoms have been infringed, outrage and pain has been caused.”

The inquiry, led by the former judge Sir John Mitting, is examining how 139 undercover officers spied on more than 1,000 mainly leftwing groups between 1968 and at least 2010. The officers were sent on deployments, usually lasting four years, to infiltrate political groups and acquire information about the activities of campaigners.

[…]

Barr said it was “hard to identify a single instance” in which information gathered by the unit “averted a public order calamity”.

He said the SDS operated with a “remarkable lack of oversight, formal training and instruction” but was not a “rogue unit” as it was funded by the Home Office and collaborated with MI5.

[tremendouscreationperson]

Bucky x Agent!Reader imagine

“-vac! Anyone out there?!” You frowned automatically as the tinny voice yelled. The voice wasn't directly in your ear, it was further away causing the frown to deepen. Why was it further away? Why was-shit!!

Your eyes blink open as a searing hot pain shot through you. Lighting your right side ablaze with red hot flames.

An involuntary noise tumbled out of your mouth as you attempted to move your hands. Attempted to work out what was happening. Your movements weren't in your best interest but you needed to know what was causing such pain.

“I am in need of urgent evac, making my way to point A!”

You felt your side and it was warm. Warm and sticky. Shit. You didn't have to see your palms to know but in a naive moment you forced one into your line of sight. Red and dripping.

The hand fell back at your side and you took in the surrounding area. Directly in front of you was a ceiling, oh that made sense, you were lying on your back. Of course. You were on a mission, how could you forget?

“ETA to evac point 2 minutes.” The voice called again. It was to your left. In the fight you had lost the earpiece. Your movements were clumsy but you quickly retrieved the com without pulling on your side too much.

“‘ucky?” a cough. “‘ucky.” You tried but your mouth couldn't form the letter ‘b’. How pathetic.

“Thank god, sweet girl.” The sounds of him huffing - clearly running - and gunshots behind him were now clearer as the piece sat snugly in your ear. It sat better than ever now it was covered in a sticky substance. “I was worried the team had left me.”

Team? Oh that was right. There was a team of highly skilled agents and you were their connection to SHIELD. You were their escape route. You needed to move.

“Where- where are they?”

“I don't know. No one's been on this line since 22:00.”

You took a deep breath. That was before the altercation. You'd been set up in this radio tower to feed information to the team, to tell them when the guards were changing, if they had upgraded any of their weapons, your job was basically to sit back and wait. To try to help if needed.

And then they noticed you. They noticed doors were being unlocked and machines were powered down. A trio came looking for you. Two were downed in the hall, because you'd heard on their radio frequency that they were coming but the third managed to get in. Managed to get you on the ground in a scramble. Clearly managed to get you in the side. It didn't feel like a gunshot but you don't recall a knife. Speaking of - where is he? Your head rolled to the left - a broken window and rotting wall - and then the right - the edge of the ancient console - and then you extended your neck to see he was slumped behind.

Thank god, you were in no condition to fight.

“Evac point A is overrun.”

That was twice now you'd forgotten you were here to do a job.

“Has SHIELD made contact? Where's the jet?”

Had they? “Unclear. I'll try to connect again.”

Fuck. Why couldn't you have landed closer to the console?

“I'll need to go to evac point B.” He called over the sound of an explosion. “What's the best route?”

You cried out as you attempted to roll onto your side. “You'll.. you'll have to find cover and wait for me. I don't know the best- they've got bases at all sides I need to-”

“Cover?” He roared in disbelief.

“I can't presently give you the information you need.” You panted, psyching yourself up to roll again.

“Wh-are you okay?” The juxtaposition in his tone was almost laughable.

“Fine.” You grit your teeth and flop gracefully over. “The- the console’s ‘eing funny.”

He was silent for a few beats but did eventually speak, “radio silence ‘til I say.” Then the line was dead.

That was fine by you. Allowed you the opportunity to be as pathetic with your movements as possible. The console being no more than three meters away but felt as though it was three football stadiums.

You panted and cursed and yelled, sweat poured down your temples and mixed with your tears and spit.

It only occurred to you when you were a quarter of the way there that you could die here. You likely would. Bucky would be the last person you spoke to.

Now the radio silence was a curse.

You didn't want to die alone.

No.

No, you wouldn't die.

Not here.

Fuck them!

Fuck everyone!

You weren't going to die in this shithole.

You crawled slowly to the console with a quiet fire lighting the way. You were no quicker but were now fueled by spite.

Each stretch of your arm pulled at your side and then you had to drag your body forward which pinched it.

Your eyes scanned the floor and you sent a silent prayer to anyone that would listen: please don't let there be anything deadly on the ground. It was covered in glass, debris and mixed blood, there were bullet shells and open wires.

Your com crackled to life and you jumped, silently screaming at the tugging sensation.

“How's the console?” He whispered into your ear.

Within reach was the real answer. Fuck him. He knew. “Yeah, still here. Still being funny.” At least you could pronounce “being” correctly.

“Any news on the evac?” His tone was still hushed.

“Where are you?” You hauled yourself closer.

“In a tree.” The laugh that erupted from your gut was worth all the pain. “Shut up.” He warned but you could tell he was smiling.

You were now there. At the console. Fingers brushing the base.

But this was the hard part.

“Bear with me a sec.” You muttered as you hoisted your torso up. It took a few attempts but you eventually sat on your butt.

You were able to reach the old school com. They had it connected to bulky headphones and the mic didn't really work but you'd try. You have to.

Flipping whatever was in reach you eventually set the dial to the right frequency and begged.

“Ramirez? Connor? Hardy? Sillett? Boswell?” The line stayed dead after you repeated every name. You groaned, changing the frequency. “Coming in. SHIELD. We have a code 445. Need emergency evac at point B.”

Silence.

“Anything doll?” Bucky prompted.

“No.” Your eyes flickered across the console. There were bullet holes, old and new, some dials were present and others had missing knobs, only a few lights actually worked. It had been fine earlier, well no but it was usable! The fucker that got you must've shot at it as well. “Pretty sure it's dead.” You caught something. “Wait, mayb- I can try that.”

You pulled the chair you'd previously abandoned closer and attempted to use it to stand. The legs skidded across the floor and you went with it.

“Hey what's happening?” He asked after hearing you curse.

“Just shshsh.” You try again and instead of landing on your face you’re able to sit on the rickety chair. “I'm remembering morse code.”

“Mors- we're dead.” He let out a humorless laugh as you fiddled with the connections, it looked like it was the only working thing in this tower.

“You'll be alright.” You tapped the key forming a simple sentence and hoped to god the right person would hear. ‘SHIELD. URGENT EVAC B. SHIELD. URGENT EVAC B.’

You continuously tapped the message - zoning out from your surroundings out of boredom or blood loss - forgetting yourself but Bucky coughed and you were sucked back into the room. Back into the mission. “I think I s-saw some old maps earlier, I can try and help with t’ route.”

He let out a sigh. “How bad are you hit?”

Fuck. “Well it's no’ great.” Taaap. Tap. Tap.

“Any response?”

“Not presently.” Your eyelids were getting heavy now. It was difficult to keep them open. Why did you need them open? “There's always someone down in the dungeon, waiting for secret messages.”

He huffed in response. You were right, there usually was some poor bastard in the bunker listening for telegrams and mapping crop circles.

The weight of your eyelids had transferred to your forehead. Your neck struggled to keep it upright. It would be easier if you could just rest it, just place it delicately on the console, and then you can focus all your energy on the message.

“You could try north.” You muttered, fighting the internal battle to stay upright.

“North?”

“The bases are more spora’ic up north.” Cough. “More cover.” Tap. Tap. Tap. Taaap.

“Where are your coordinates?”

As if your brain could calculate that. “I do- I think west.” Tap. Tap.

That was weird. When he sighed you could feel it. You frown and raise your head.

Oh.

He was sitting next to you on your sofa. In your home. Wearing a black tee and gray tracksuit bottoms.

“I think I could get to you.” He nodded more to himself than you. “I'm sure of it.” His hair was clean and tied back with one of your old scrunchies.

“I don't see how.”

“I'm not leaving you behind.” He vowed, his hand covering your own. You knew realistically you were tapping your fingers on the key but his warm digits felt so real, so true.

“Just. Just distract me?” You couldn't add 'from my imminent death' but you could force a weak smile. “Please.”

“I don't know if I can.” His jaw set but you could see the debate in his eyes.

“Please Bucky.”

“I would've taken you dancing.” He looked as shocked as you felt when the words came out, but he eased into them. “If I met you in the 40s. I would've loved to take you dancing.”

That sounded amazing. Dancing with him.

“I wasn't amazing at the jive but I bet with you as a partner we'd be killer.”

“Cat's pajamas.” You must've blinked because he was now clean shaven and his hair was cropped, he wore a button down shirt and slacks. But he was still Bucky. Still your friend.

“Yeah.” He eagerly agreed. “We'd have met at Sal's, got a coke and you'd have decided to take me up on the dancing offer. Or we'd have gone to the fair. I loved the Ferris wheels.” His eyes left yours and he was lost in thought. “I don't think I'd like them any more.”

Heights.

He didn't like heights.

He dealt with them but he didn't like them.

You'd had many conversations about his fears, trying to help him cope with his new reality but he never quite got over heights.

“We could dance now.” You muttered to distract him. “We could find somewhere to danc’.”

“You'd wanna go dancing with me?” One eyebrow twitched and he had a coy smirk.

You let out a hum in affirmative before mumbling a very low, “always.”

“I don't know why I haven't thought to ask you. I-” He cut himself off. “You’ve always been the one. You're my partner in and out of missions. You're my best friend. Even when I was shitty and awful and I didn't want you to be. Yo- I'm only here because of you.” His blue eyes came back to you, and they were glittering. The whites, a vague pink color illuminating the blue even further.

You felt his hand on yours tighten but it was different. It was hard. Consistent. Like a heartbeat. Like-

“Bucky they responded!” You jolt up from the console and zoned in on the letters.

‘D. 3.20. M-E-E-T. U-P. P-O-I-N-T. C-O-N-F-I-R-M-E-D.’

“Bucky, get to number B!” You ordered. “They're coming. You have about 40 minutes.”

“What about you?” He hadn't moved. You knew he hadn't. He was far too stubborn. “Where is your location?”

“I'm in t’ tower.” The words came out slurred. Wow. You really hadn't realized how much energy staying alive took. Now your job was done, maybe you could rest.

“But the others checked- you can't still be in the same tower?”

“‘ingo.”

“That doesn't mak-”

“37 minutes.” You breathily corrected the earlier statement. “Now, 35.”

“Just-”

“Please.” Your voice was smaller than you hoped. “I don't want you to-” gulp. “-aswell. Please just be safe.”

“But they checked the tower. The last message was that it was empty!” He was climbing now, you could tell. His breathing had changed.

“‘aybe it wasn't ‘em.” If you could shrug you would've. “No r'ponse since.”

“I'm going to evac point B and then I'm coming with the jet to you.”

“Wha’ woul’ we have danced to?” The words were so jumbled and far too quiet but he understood.

“Anything you wanted, baby.”

You hum.

“Y/N?"

"Y/N!"

[lurkingshan]

Things That Have My Attention in 4 Minutes Episode 4

Congrats to the Dome is Tonkla's brother truthers!

Let's talk timelines again. I still think we're working with two timelines, but I no longer think they're cleanly separated. Because if they were, you could not have some of these things happening concurrently. If we only had an Original timeline and a Redo timeline, then everything Great changes should be part of the Redo timeline. But in this episode Great saved Nan in the same timeline where Dome was dead, which we know because Great got Nan's location by getting Korn trashed after Korn fought with Tonkla over his abandonment in the aftermath of Dome's death. These things are all connected, so we can't cleanly sort events into one timeline or the other.

Which means it's most likely that the two timelines are bleeding together, making things unstable. This would explain Great's experience of overlapping moments last week, and Tonkla seeing Dome briefly before things went all weird and he disappeared at the end of today's episode.

By the way, it turns out those cold opens are not of the future--Tonkla has already done the murder in the same timeline where he's messing around with the cop. ETA: @my-rose-tinted-glasses pointed out that this is not necessarily true if the scene of Win getting the fingerprints and the phone call is also in the future. So back to square one on that!

Speaking of, what is up with Win? He is fully engaging in an affair with a murder suspect and doesn't seem to be investigating Tonkla at all. And I cannot let this pass without comment: why on earth did Win not put his pants back on during the long scene of him listening to Tonkla and Korn?! Was this really an appropriate situation to Winnie the Pooh it???

The flashback to Tonkla and Korn's beginning gave good context for why Tonkla thought he might be able to have more with Korn. I appreciated the details there: Korn was giving him money before they even had sex the first time and was lying to him about his intentions from the start, while Tonkla had zero experience when they met and didn't know how to recognize the signs of Korn's lies. Korn basically groomed this kid to be his sidepiece and has strung him along for years.

Tonkla definitely feels like a tragic character heading for a bad end, though perhaps he will also be saved eventually by the timeline shifts. In the timeline where Dome is dead and he's fucking Win, Tonkla is being incredibly reckless. I couldn't believe he just moved a new man into the home Korn pays for, he's gonna get caught.

I was grateful the show did not actually go all the way with Korn assaulting Tonkla, but it was clear he would have if Tonkla had not managed to distract him.

I continue to find the emotional tenor of Great and Tyme's scenes kinda weird. I don't understand why Great is so willing to betray Korn to help Tyme after just meeting him, I don't understand why Tyme revealed his face only to run away and then accused Great of being in on the conspiracy after already confirming he's not, and I don't understand why they were acting all blushy and awkward in that sex scene rather than leaning into the adrenaline high for a more sultry tone. They have been on one (1) date so the emotional investment is not really tracking for me for two experienced adults, but I can't tell if I am supposed to find this all weird and confusing or just go with it. It feels like the show just wants me to accept the shortcuts and buy into them as a serious romance, so okay I guess!

Speaking of betraying Korn, Great's plan was abysmal. He steals the information from Korn's phone (so considerate of him to spell out his criminal conspiracy including names and locations in one convenient text chain), tells Tyme everything without any knowledge of what his brother did, then walks right into an active hostage situation in his designer whites and shows his face to all Korn's goons. Korn is gonna know you did this, bro! Do you care?

It seems that Nan has a friend who was killed in a similar fashion to Tyme's parents, though I'm still curious how they connected and came up with this plan.

I still got nothing on this Lukwa connection. Why are she and Great the only two experiencing this phenomenon, and why did they see each other in this liminal space?

Also noting that there were several sex scenes this episode and no condoms or lube anywhere. I guess this show only depicts safe and realistic sex when they have a sponsor paying them.

[dangermousie]

Their chemistry is gorgeous...

And the way he makes a little jokes and then realizes that it's not really a joke to him aaaaaaa

It's like they know how to hit all my shippy kinks dead center so hard they are ringing.

And then he stands (without his cloak - he gave it to her!) in front of the cave opening to shield her even if it's by a tiny amount from the cold. He is there until morning!!!

I really liked the first six eps of this drama but with ep 7, that switch - that unpredictable glorious switch - flipped and I am invested and obsessed. It's glorious.

It is a very romantic wuxia in the best ways (and my very first cdrama was the 2006 adaptation of Return of Condor Heroes and you can't get more ur romantic wuxia than that - and it was the reason I got into cdramas - so it's clearly something I crave.)

The thing I love so much here is how competent and adult and decent both the protagonists are. She is sharp-tongued and prickly but deeply good and he is just so...he is arguably the deadliest fighter in that narrative but he is so completely gentle. The way only someone who is very secure in himself and in his strength can be - he doesn't need to prove anything to anyone. He has his (serious) trauma/regrets/damage but insecurity is not one of his issues. And it is just perfect.

I think ZSX has never portrayed a bastard in any way that worked for me (tho to be fair, those dramas were so bad, nobody could have saved that - his new agency is so much better omg, anyway) but he is a rare actor who can portray sheer unadulterated decency and make it fascinating instead of boring.

And Li Qin is just so adult. She is an adult woman; all her best roles take advantage of her stillness and her ability to portray calm, intense competency (that is why that terrible drama with RJL that shall not be named was so bad - it was bad in general but it also went against every one of her strengths; perhaps someone like GXT could have made it bearable.)

This is a solidly written, beautifully filmed drama in a genre I love that plays to its stars' strengths. What's not to love.

ETA: I was gonna make a whole separate post about him carrying her when she faints, trudging thru the snow, trying to breathe on her cold hands and shielding her as they fall but I accidentally deleted them and don't feel like redoing it so just imagine it instead.

[louis-antoine-leon-saint-just]

@camijust

Such a sweet and refreshing question, citizen!

Let's see... Unlike what some might think, I prefer simple flowers, like the ones that grow in the fields and trees around my house in Blérancourt. I must admit I have a soft spot for poppies. I believe this is why I knowingly altered Titus Livius' story and directed my adolescent ire towards those poor ferns instead.

There aren't many blue flowers, I think. (My favorite color is blue. I used to like red too before... before I see too much of it, let's say. It's still beautiful in flowers though. Flowers are pure and innocent...) There's the cornflower though. In the fields between Varennes and Valmy the blue cornflowers and the red poppies bloom with the white chamomile:

Isn't it poignantly beautiful? Sublime, even. I must say, these meadows have been sufficiently watered with blood for many centuries to come. May they humbly accept simple rainwater from now on.

OOC note: I swear this was going to be simple and normal... but of course it led to researching the flowers that grow in Aisne, and reflecting on the Livy anecdote and why he might have used ferns instead even though poppies are in bloom then (were there none? or was it a choice?), and ended with melancholic ramblings on the bleuet (cornflower), which is the equivalent in France to the poppy in the Commonwealth, because I found this beautiful picture on this page, and saw what region this page was about, l'Argonne i.e. these flowers grow right in the region where so many died during so many wars... The symbolism was too powerful - flowers, dead soldiers, La Marseillaise, Saint-Just just took over the keyboard. He had to make it sad again. He can't help it.

ETA: So fate played a very funny trick on me. It turns out that the flowers that grow around his house... are roses. And it is SO like Saint-Just to hide it behind "oh you know, just simple flowers growing around my house" and not say the truth except I swear I wasn't doing that this time, because I didn't check the pictures of his house in a long time. I was just picturing field and trees in general, you know, until @aedesluminis points me to that post. And this is SO FUNNY because roses ARE actually MY favorite flower, I, the real breathing living person behind this RP blog. But I don't think they would be Saint-Just. They might seem too aristocratic to him (though there are wild roses - that's what they originally were). All of this is so funny to me right now... this really feels like fate played a trick on me. Or like he does possess me after all. Who knows.

[amuseoffyre]

OFMD Parallels - 1x06 and 2x03

Izzy once more coming to urge Stede to action, but this time to save the crew instead of to nudge him towards his death.

Both times, he mentions Ed's connection to Stede, but in doing so, shows how little he knows either of them. "He adores you. I don't know why but he does" foreshadowing "I know you think you understand him".

Izzy doesn't understand the connection between them at this point. He didn't see why Ed was so hung up on this idiot and he can't believe that Stede could possibly have earned so much of Ed's confidence and trust (yet).

And in a couple of sentences, Stede shows that actually he does know Ed and understands his actions all too well. Izzy gets unsurprisingly upset about it, but then - still - asks for Stede's help because right now, he has no other choice.

Instead of pressing Stede to do something (the fuckery), he simply asks him to find some way to save the crew, who have suffered for both their mistakes and explains why. Plumbing the depths.

And Stede reimagines things a bit with a fuckery to take back an empty ship in the dead of night :D

eta: extra shout out to the lighting as well - this time, Stede's the one who is illuminated - enlightened, even 🥁- while Izzy is the one in the dark.

[dandelion-wings]

From the first whumptober list: 07 only for emergencies, anything involving kaeya

Thank you for all the prompts! I'll be weaving the ones I write in between other prompts, but I'll start with this one, as I promised. :>

Warning on this one for some suicidal ideation and possibly body horror? More an attempt at psychological horror tbh.

---

ETA: Now on AO3.

---

Kaeya does have to admire the breadth of the Abyss Order's ambitions this time around. To seize the power of a fully-revitalized Nail and turn it into a weapon of the Abyss would be a formidable accomplishment. Dragonspine would become as corrupted as the Chasm, but with no hope of Celestia's power ever cleansing it, the taint spreading inexorably out to swallow first Monstadt and then the rest of surface Teyvat.

It's a final chance for them, do-or-die; once the Honorary Knight blazes all the way to the center of the Order's stronghold, the Order's fate will be decided there, one way or another. It's no surprise they've committed so much to this backup project. Though, knowing what he does about their leader, Kaeya wonders if this division of forces is acting under orders or upon their own initiative. Perhaps, if the Order survives, they'll find themselves facing them as rivals.

Only if the Knights can't stop them. They've made good progress so far. Sixth and Seventh Companies have secured the entrances to Dragonspine; Fourth Company has fought their way down into the depths of the newly-uncovered tunnels in which the Order is doing its work. The Lectors who had laid out this spell-array are dead, and the Mages who had been conducting it with them. Nothing is left to defend the array laid out at their feet.

Except for the monsters still disgorging from the doors of the domain on the cliff above, hilichurls and rifthounds in what seem like endless numbers, led and conducted by a pair of powerful Heralds. Eula and her knights are holding them back, if barely. There's no telling how many reinforcements the Heralds have, or how long those defenders can hold.

"We should have brought Lisa after all," Jean says, her voice choked with self-recrimination. Then it firms as she wraps herself in the authority of command. "Kaeya, do you have any ideas?"

It isn't said knowingly. It doesn't have to be. He knows what she knows, what he's fed her and what she's gleaned, the slips he's made that were halfway admissions, the quiet questions she's asked with care to restrict them to only the moment's needs. The patchwork of her knowledge is enough for this.

He's not sure *his* knowledge is enough for this. Kaeya left home with only partial instruction in the Order's rites and the older magic of Khaenri'ah's alchemy. Maybe they should have brought Albedo, too--but 'should haves' do them no good. Partially-learned or not, he can feel the Abyssal power gathering in this arcane circle, surging through the artificial leylines plumbed alien and invasive through the stone. Those can't be cut from without, and the spell is self-contained, an almost-living thing pulsing with its own power, regrowing the lines of its own sigils when they tried to smudge them from the cavern floor.

There are four around the edges, perfectly spaced: Pyro and Cryo, Hydro and Electro, each drawing out their respective power from the artificial leylines to feed into the spell. Each had contained an Abyss Mage until the Knights' weapons had brought them down, but it was already too late to disrupt the spell in that way; the leylines were already tuned, their energies in perfect balance, fueling the magic without need of any further instruction.

A fifth, an inner circle slashed across with interconnected lines, lies in the middle. Kaeya doesn't have to be able to see through the stone above to know that it's directly beneath the Nail it was constructed to corrupt.

"I have one," he says, giving Jean a smile and a wink to hide the catch in his throat. Then he turns to Amber, hovering anxious on Jean's other side, watching the battle on the cliff above with an arrow ready for whenever Eula needs her shot. "Any chance I could borrow a Baron Bunny? Already armed, if you don't mind. This is going to take some concentration."

Amber bites her lip, glances once more up at the Reconnaissance Company's fight, and then, before Jean can make it an order, pulls a bunny doll out of her pouch and pours the Pyro into it that makes it swell to proper taunting size. "Be careful with it. And don't waste it!"

"Oh, I won't," Kaeya assures her, with enough of a smirk to make her glare. "I have big plans."

Then he steps over the edge of the spell's outer circle, the energy of the false leylines thrumming in his ears like his own pulse as he makes his way to the central sigil. He can feel the spell, not quite conscious, eager and hungry, growing stronger with each pulse of the leylines and seeking an outlet as those energies grow to a peak. It takes all his will to keep walking forward towards its heart.

He hooks the Baron Bunny's arm into his belt as he steps into the center of the circle. The sigil is familiar, if more elaborate than the one he knows--the one that can turn a noble of Khaenri'ah into a creature of the Abyss Order, able to command both their lessers and the Abyss' power with ease. All the extra curlicues and channels and bindings, the artificial leylines and all the power they've brought to bear, are there only to force their way through Celestian defenses. Once those are broken down, all that's necessary will be the Abyss' touch.

It wants something to corrupt, does it? Kaeya can give it that.

The pulse of the leylines in his ears takes on a faint whine when he takes his place there, and his Vision throbs in counterpoint at his hip, cold enough to burn. Of course. If this was a common circle, the sort he saw cousins step into, he would have thrown it away--but this spell array is already designed to pierce Celestia's power. No point in taking the full force of this thing when even a fraction of it can be spent on doing so. No point in throwing away the only defense he has. He touches his Vision once, pretending that his fingers aren't trembling as he caresses its cold, smooth surface for the last time. Then he draws his sword.

*"I am a noble child of Khaenri'ah, descendant of Chlothar Alberich,"* he says in perfect court Khaenri'ahan, the language of the Mages, however harsh it may sound to Mond-trained ears. *"My father is head of the Alberich Clan, and I am his rightful heir. I am born a sinner by the decree of those who hold unlawful sway over this world, and I dedicate myself to those sinners who came before, that our salvation come in the washing clean of our blood."*

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Jean flinch and start towards him as he slashes his sword across his wrist. He glances up long enough to shake his head at her, smiling tightly. Jean, her face drawn with worry, takes a step back and holds her ground.

Kaeya doesn't know how they had planned to open the path to the Nail. But for a Khaenri'ahan's rebirth, the only possible route is through that in which Celestia's curse resides--by allowing the Abyss to enter, and burn out the heavenly taint in the blood.

The Abyss floods in. Kaeya can feel the power rushing through him, Electro crackling up his nerves, Hydro flooding his throat and chest, Cryo sinking into his bones. Pyro is last, and his Vision resists that fiercely: the familiar crystalline shield flaring around him, a burst of cold that leaves frost on his clothing and instant numbness in his flesh all up and down his left side. Then both shatter under the flames that come sweeping up from below, even fiercer in response. Kaeya can't choke down the drowning scream as they envelop him and his Vision dissolves into fragments and smoke.

His frostbitten, crisping skin is barely a concern now, though, because the Abyss has him, and it has far worse intentions than burning him alive. The power of the artificial leylines had already been pulsing in his ears; now the pulse grows all-encompassing as those invisible threads of magic dig into him, sliding up through his feet, through his fingertips, though his laid-open wrist, through his hidden right eye. Invisible or not, they crawl through his flesh like roots through earth, their power dissolving meat and blood and bone like crumbling soil. Tendrils twine through his rib cage and he screams again, burbling and wet; others wind through the stiff cartilage of his throat and the scream dies as his voicebox collapses.

Someone else is screaming in his place, but a tendril comes creeping out from the back of his left eye, shoving his eyeball from its socket, and he can't see who. All he can tell from the voice is that it isn't Jean.

His heart rabbits in his chest, panic at the invasion, panic at the force of it, at the magic tearing him apart. He knew it would be like this, and yet he had no idea. This is so much vaster, so much worse than anything he's seen his cousins go through. The artificial leylines don't send the Abyssal taint seeping gradually through him; they force their way into his flesh, his blood, his mind, overpowering him with no recourse. One twists around his frantic heart and crushes it with casual ease.

What matters isn't the leylines, or what they're doing to a body that was never going to survive this transformation. What matters is the Abyssal power throbbing through them, remaking the flesh they tear through into entirely different and unnatural form. Remaking his mind, too, far more swiftly than he had ever imagined. It becomes more and more difficult for Kaeya to stay focused on his own goals here. The Nail, Mondstadt, the people around him, the people he wants this power to protect-

He *wants this power*, and that, that thought the Abyss lets him have, lets him focus on, even as it tears his will away. Of course he wants it. That's what every Mage wants, isn't it? The strength to conduct their magic as they see fit, to command their lessers as they deserve, to destroy their enemies in the name of a nation that fell hundreds of years past and serves now as an excuse for present cruelties? Of course he wants this power. It's his birthright.

And there's so, so much of it. Kaeya sucks it greedily in, letting the leylines fill his new body to the brim. He struggles to contain it, this power that had been meant to shatter and rebuild a Nail. From within, with them still wound inside him, he can reach out and grasp the artificial leylines as no one could from without; he snaps their connections one by one, forcing them from his new, shadow-wrapped form, using the very power they'd given him to uproot them from the stone and let them curl, dying, in freezing air. As the last one breaks free, the spell registers its own completion and subsides, the sigils drawn across the stone in Chasm mud and the casters' own blood erasing themselves silently from the cold cavern floor.

Kaeya can't grin in this form, his face a rigid mask of ice, but the hollow laugh that rises from his throat will do. He lifts a hand in a casual gesture and Cryo spins out from him in a whirling circle, at once familiar and new. Icicles brush against something that had clung to the tattered clothing still hanging around him even as his old flesh burst open, something that begins to twitch and move. Kaeya spares the Baron Bunny barely a glance. He has other targets now.

"Kaeya?" Jean asks, starting towards him across the now-untouched stone. She holds a hand out towards him; her eyes are wide, and frightened, but there's a determined set to her jaw that Kaeya recognizes. He'd found it charming, once. A strength that he appreciated, and was fond of.

In her other hand is her sword, blade bared, even if she holds it low. He thinks that he would have appreciated that, too, in the past that is suddenly all cold memory, with no warm feelings lingering. Now he only looks at it in calculation, aware of the threat that it poses.

Not so much a threat that he has to fear it, not brimming with the power that he is. He cackles again, drawing the icicles inward and flaring up a shield in their place, triangular panes of glass far thicker and harder than the paltry power of his Vision had been able to call before. Behind its hard barrier, he holds out his own hand in turn.

"Jean," he says, in a parody of the affectionate tone the human him might have used, his new voice twisting it beyond all pretense of sincerity.

He can see her falter at that, then step forward again, believing, no doubt, that it's only the hollowness of his voice that's altered his tone. She's always been so trusting, so faithful, so confident in his loyalty. How useful that's always been. How useful it's been this time, to help him shuck off the misguided emotions of weak human flesh and become what he was always meant for. Something overshadowing Mage or Herald or Lector, some unnamed being greater than each, a form of which the lesser nobility had been only an anticipation. The creature that the last heir of the Alberiches was destined to be.

"Jeanie," he croons, taking a step closer, watching her grip loosen on her sword at a name he knows held resonance for them both, still does for her--something hated as a child, yet a matter of affection now as well as irritation, knowing it for a sign of his own supposed fondness. Fascinating how humans can turn an offense into a friendly gesture. "Don't worry. It's still me."

And only then, with her a few steps away, her swordhand hanging at her side, her defense beginning to relax, does he make a sharp motion with that outheld hand and send a rain of icicles crashing down upon her.

She's not quite so relaxed as she seems, flinging herself sideways and throwing up a Gale Blade to blast the icicles and the cold slowing cloud they carry away. Kaeya is already moving in another attack, a double-pronged cross of slashing ice-bolts. As they fly, there's a shout from the edge of where the circle had been, and he sees a glimpse of Amber, white-faced and furious--oh, that's still funny, that's always been funny, and now it's *hilarious* without the twinge of self-consciousness that had used to accompany his amusement.

The arrow flares against his shield, and there's the slightest smear of half-melted ice where it struck, but the shield crisps over and goes smooth again without him having even to will it. What's been poured into him exceeds the Abyssal taint of any being the Knights have met before. He's far, far too powerful for his shield to be pierced from without, even by Pyro, even should someone (*ah*, that fear still twinges before the Abyss soothes it away) be here with a flaming claymore.

But from within-

Baron Bunny, unheeded and forgotten, reaches the climax of its dance and explodes.

His shield, crafted to withstand any attack from without, cracks asunder. Despite everything, Amber is screaming his name. And Jean, flung back by his ice-bolts but rising bloodied and grim-faced, shouts, "Amber, now!" Amber swallows her terror and fires into the air, her Vision flaring at her hip and Pyro consuming the arrow as it flies and curves into an arc. A rain of blazing arrows descends upon him, seeking out those cracks, carving them wider. His cracked shield shatters and sends him to one knee on the ground.

No matter. Burns twinging all up and down his right side, Kaeya springs to his feet, fencing himself again in swirling icicles as Jean sprints towards him, already making the gestures to call another shield. He'll shield himself, vanish away, and have that flaring pain healed by one of the samachurls he knows are retreating behind that domain door. Then he'll return and demonstrate to Amber what depths of cruelty he can reach that she had never imagined.

Just as his shield starts to shimmer into existence, the icicles fading to generate it instead, a Gale Blade pierces through and breaks it again. Jean follows, flinging herself into him, driving him down and slamming him into the stone.

There are tears in her eyes as she bears him down under her, knees driving into his abdomen and forcing the breath from him before he can speak another incantation. His armor should hold against her, but the right side of it has melted, and she wedges her blade into an exposed crack at his neck and holds it there, pressed against what isn't any longer skin but is still vulnerable to a blade infused with a Vision's power. Even a monster needs a head.

But she hesitates, the way he'd known he would. Amber has come up behind her, arrow nocked, but she's hesitating too. What had the Baron Bunny been for, after all? He doesn't understand now why he'd thought it so essential then that he break his own shield and armor, make this easier for them, account for this hesitation and give them a chance to overcome it and actually win. Senseless foolishness. That human sentiment has only made his position more difficult now.

"Kaeya," she breathes. "This isn't you. I know you, and you would never truly want to hurt us, or threaten Mondstadt. If you're still in there, if there's any part of you that's still yourself, please-" Her voice catches, and she swallows and goes on. "-please understand."

Not so long a hesitation after all. Anemo pulses down the length of her blade, dissolving the armor where it touches, dissolving not-flesh beneath, as a wind begins to rise. Marveling at how little she *had* known him, this blessed human who thinks him one of her own, Kaeya lifts his hand in a sharp gesture to call more icicles, bring them raining down on Jean and Amber both. With Jean's head bowed and Amber looking down, he can drive spears of ice right through the napes of their necks, smash their skulls with heavy hail, watch their eyes go dull and their faces slack in an instant as blood sprays....

The gesture he makes calls nothing, aborted with a sharp jerk as that image, so deliciously satisfying, nonetheless stirs cold horror in his breast. The fraction of an instant he'd had to react is lost in that convulsive motion, that moment of senseless, foolish sentiment. Wind rises, whipping around them, scented with sweet dandelion and crisp Vision-cleansed Anemo and the bitterness of his death as it carves icy armor away from not-flesh. With his armor gone, Amber will only need one arrow.

A thought an odd, distorted relief, as the thought of their deaths was an odd, distorted horror. And yet it's that horror that he clings to, that relief, the breeze seeming to twist the distortion further even as it sheers his armor away. Kaeya grasps at it, fleeting emotion--the pain he can suddenly feel at the sight of Jean's tears, the guilt at Amber's white face--growing stronger as agony wracks him from head to toe. He wants to be what they think him to be, the person they love enough to apologize to as they put him down. He *wants*-

He's still imbued with enough power to shatter a Nail. What he *wants* is what he can *do*.

What Kaeya draws around himself is an entirely different armor, one he's worn all his life, a human seeming and a human form. It doesn't fit quite right over what he's become, even as he tries to shift his own form into living flesh again, heart and lungs and muscle and bone and one scarred eye and one good one, a hand that reaches up to wrap around Jean's sword-arm, gently, not sure if he's trying to urge her to press it in or drag it away. He smiles at her as gently as he can.

"It's okay, Jeanie," he whispers, in the voice he does remember how to use, nothing hollow about it in the least.

Jean wrenches her arm away from his hand, her sword from his neck, as the Dandelion Breeze dies. "Kaeya!"

She has the sense, at least, not to abandon all caution, sword still in hand as she rises and reaches down to help him up. Amber, though, drops her bow to fling herself at him, wrapping her arms around him and burying her face in his shoulder, her scolding muffled but its intent still clear. It takes Kaeya a second to register more than far too much heat, nearly painful, but then he remembers what he's supposed to do--who he's trying to be--and returns the hug.

"Keep that up and I'll start thinking you actually like me, Outrider," he tells her, which does the job of making her pull away to glare.

Overhead, the sounds of battle has stopped. Jean looks that way, then back at them. "We should go ensure that domain is sealed, and then return to Mondstadt. I would like Lisa to examine you."

"And Albedo," Kaeya adds. He can see that his semblance of humanity is ill-fitting without as well as within: through the tatters of his sleeves, his hands are blackened from the fingertips past the elbow, and what show of his shins through his pants are likewise. Other things are wrong too, he's sure. Amber keeps shooting sideways looks at his right eye. If anyone can help him sort those problems, it will be Gold's perfect homunculus.

But those are minor concerns in the grand scheme of things. Should they never fade, he knows that the Knights will keep him anyway, Amber will defend him as fiercely from strangers' disapproval, Klee will adore him nonetheless, Jean will attest to his loyalty against all detractors. He has no fear of undeserved rejection.

Which perhaps wouldn't be so undeserved. Kaeya looks at Jean's back ahead of him and thinks of how easy it would be to send a lance of ice through it, and the revulsion at the thought doesn't entirely eclipse the satisfaction. He swallows against a wave of nausea that suggests he has a gut again and clenches his hand into a fist at his side before it can even twitch towards the requisite motion. He won't. He wants to be the person they think they know, the Kaeya who won't, ever, no matter how much Abyssal power runs through him.

And should he fail, next time he won't make Jean be the one to stop him. He'll rob the Abyss of its victory himself.

[finnlongman]

So as far as the death itself, without checking to refresh my memory, I can recall this much:

He ties himself to a standing stone with his entrails (I'm pretty sure it's his entrails) and dies. Lugaid's men are ordered to shoot the body with a couple of arrows to make sure, then Lugaid triumphantly walks up to the body, possibly to gloat.

When he gets close enough, Cú Chulainn glows with "hero-light" (that's the translation that stands out in my mind the most, I always thought it was a less intense show of power than the riastrad) one last time as his sword falls from his lifeless hand to behead Lugaid. The rest of his men stay back (this may actually be when they shoot the arrows, I'm iffy on the timing of that part) and nobody else approaches Cú Chulainn's body until a corvid lands on his shoulder; I admittedly just saw your post on my dash where someone else mentioned that part - that's why I went with "corvid" - but I already remembered it as being significant. I also remember it being implied (if not said outright) that it's taken as a sign from the Morrígan (or Babd, if the author makes the distinction. You know how it is with na Mórrígna) that he's finally really truly actually dead.

So yeah. That's my recollection, mixed between everything I've read.

So, in BMMM:

Cú Chulainn ties himself to a standing stone so that he might die standing. He ties himself using his "body belt". I think this is a belt and not a euphemism for intestines, mostly because he already yeeted his innards into a lake, and I'm not sure how many of them he's got left at this point.

Cú Chulainn dies

The men of Ireland are afraid to approach him because they think he's still alive.

Erc shames them that they haven't beheaded him yet and they behead him??? This seems like a textual corruption since in the following paragraph it becomes clear that he still has his head, not sure what's going on there.

The Líath Macha comes back and guards Cú Chulainn, killing anyone who approaches him. We are told that he guards CC "as long as his soul was in him and the hero's light from his forehead remained"; presumably the light goes out when he finally actually dies, but that isn't mentioned.

A scald-crow lands on Cú Chulainn's body, making it clear he's dead. There is nothing textual to suggest the bird is anything except a regular carrion bird, but people do tend to read into it.

Lugaid beheads Cú Chulainn (again???) (This one seems to be the actual beheading since it is referenced later)

Cú Chulainn's sword falls from his hand and chops off Lugaid's hand

Cú Chulainn's arm is struck off in revenge 

A few small details differ from your account but on the whole it's broadly similar, except that there are no arrows. Arrows are pretty rare in Irish sources, to be honest.

In OCC:

Cú Chulainn asks Láeg to help him go to the standing stone so that the men of Ireland will think him alive and won't behead him. Once there, he just seems to lean against it, I don't think he actually ties himself to it in this one.

Cú Chulainn dies

(Láeg leaves with the Dub Sainglend to go and tell Emer.)

The men of Ireland are afraid to approach Cú Chulainn for three days and three nights (big timeline extension compared to BMMM and very much sets CC up as Rubbish Jesus)

During these three days and nights, Cú Chulainn's body is guarded by the Líath Macha 

Medb summons Badb ingen Cailitín and tells her to go and find out whether Cú Chulainn is alive or not.

The men of Ireland see Badb ingen Cailitín in the form of a scald-crow land on Cú Chulainn, so they know he's dead.

They attempt to take Cú Chulainn's sword and it falls and chops off ten of their right hands (? I haven't quite translated this part yet, so that's from eyeballing it) (Later on it seems like one of these hands was Lugaid's, but I'm not sure that was actually specified) ETA having now translated this passage, essentially they can't get close enough because of the sword, so Lugaid suggests they cut the tendon of his hand so that the sword will fall. They do, it does, thirty people lose a hand. (Syntactically: ten kings' sons twenty, hence I misread it as ten originally.) One of them is probably Lugaid but it doesn't actually say so.

Medb tells them to behead Cú Chulainn. They agree it's right for Lugaid to be the one to do this, which he does.

Then Cú Chulainn's head seems to glow? Presumably this is a hero's light situation after death. Again, this is beyond where I've got to in my translation, so while I know the broad outline of what's going on, a few of the finer details are a little vague.

Still no arrows!

I would say your version is closest to Brislech Mór Maige Muirthemne, the earlier text, but this is the one part of the story where they actually largely agree on events with only a few differences, such as Láeg's presence and how much they argue over Cú Chulainn's head before and after it is removed from his body.

[dasphinxone]

Dark Hitman Attuma and Mob Wife Okoye

He's a hit man and Okoye is his target…and it's because she's his boss' wife. W'Kabi wants to get rid of her for the insurance because it's cheaper to kill her than divorce her. For some reason, Attuma just can't kill her. So he figures, "I'll just kidnap her, let her know her husband is a POS and take her for myself." And then they go on the run.

Hit man Attuma had a falling out with his cousins, who run the Talokan mob, so he left to go work for W'Kabi. With no place else to go, he shows up to Namor's door with Okoye…and it turns out Namor and Shuri just allied their gangs together.

Shuri hasn't seen Okoye for years since W'Kabi is an asshole who's isolated her from her old friends. So the tables have turned, as Namor doesn't fuck up Attuma for having the nerve to show up because he doesn't want to piss off Shuri due to Okoye.

This can also be full of brat, pampered, spoiled Okoye shenanigans. She is SO SICK of Attuma's shit and irritates the fuck out of him once she realizes he's not gonna kill her.

Attuma: "Get in the trunk."

Okoye: "Are you serious? This is a $10,000 Gucci dress! I got this in Milan! I AM NOT getting in your dirty-ass trunk. How many bodies have been back there?!"

Attuma: [eying her] "I can always add one more. Get in the trun-"

Okoye: "You and I both know you aren't going to kill me. Why can't I ride in the car like a normal fucking person?!"

Attuma: "Cause you're supposed to be dead, remember?!"

Okoye: "It's not my fault you suck at your job!"

Attuma: "…do you prefer me to be GOOD at my job in this instance with you?"

Okoye: "That's not the point. I'm not ruining this dress!"

Attuma: "Dammit woman, just get in the god-damn trunk!"

Okoye: "MAKE ME!"

Attuma: [manhandles her into the trunk and slams it closed] "Just so you know," he yells at the trunk, hearing her cuss him out and pounding on it, "I get my car thoroughly detailed and cleaned after every job. You'll be fine, warrior. [he calls her that sarcastically]"

ETA, Attuma buys Okoye a new dress to replace her old one she wore when he tossed her into the trunk:

Attuma's in the dressing room, sitting on the bench at the expensive boutique and growling at her in her new dress, "Gimme a spin, baby."

Okoye pouting: "NO."

Attuma grabs her by the hips and pulls her down into his lap while one of his hands settles in a grip on the back of her neck: "What did you just say to me?"

Okoye, purposely squirming against him: "I said noooooo. Are you deaf?!"

Attuma, nosing at her cheek before he hisses into her ear: "Do you want to see how much I can make you scream right here and now to test that theory?"

Okoye: "I'd like to see you try."

Attuma: "Such a spoiled little princess."

Okoye: "No wonder my husband tried to kill me, right?"

Attuma: "His fucking loss," he groans before he kisses the breath out of her.

[sixth-light]

TGH/TDR vs WoT season 2: what's in and what's out pt 1 (characters)

WoT's in and WoT's out, that is

I thought it would be fun (for me, sorry to the rest of you) to do a little analysis of where we're actually at in terms of adapting book material and the show, now we have officially passed the adaptation of the first three books. I am looking at this, as the show/showrunner have repeatedly stated they're doing, as a whole-series adaptation question: what happens in the first three books, in terms of worldbuilding, character introductions, and plot points, which is vital for the series arc as a whole? And of that, what remains to be shown on screen and thus might end up getting cut?

This is long, so I'm going to divide it into three posts over the next day or two: Characters (who has shown up and who hasn't), Worldbuilding points (ditto), and Plot points (has it happened or not). Major book spoilers obvs as I'll be discussing which of these continue to be important throughout the series.

NB before I dive in: what doing this has shown me is that despite TDR being one of my top 3 books of the series as a whole and much-beloved more generally, it...honestly has bugger-all in terms of plot that can't be handled by the show in other ways. The structure is a straight repeat of TGH and most of the really memorable scenes are vibes and character work (Mat's duel, Perrin's blacksmithing, Egwene's Accepted test) that the show likely doesn't have time to indulge in and/or that can be used as fodder for character development on the show in different contexts (like, Perrin's blacksmithing scene is lovely and you could do a version of it whenever the show character needs to re-centre himself pretty much...right up through the end of the series.)

Anyway, on with the actual programming!

CHARACTERS

My test for listing characters here is 1) is this character a PoV character and 2) if not, do they have a genuine impact on the plot or character development of PoV characters. For example: Carlinya and Breane Taborwin appear repeatedly through the series but do nothing someone else couldn't, so there's no point in assessing the significance of them not showing up in S2 even though they first appear in TGH. Characters struck through are ones who have now been introduced or mentioned by the show.

Introduced in TEoTW but not S1 of the show

Bayle Domon Elaida Gawyn (mentioned in S2, h/t @hxans) Galad Morgase (mentioned in S2, h/t @hxans) Elyas

Immediately obvious that it's the Caemlyn crew we're waiting on, and since casting has been confirmed for at least two of them and the other two were mentioned on-screen in S2, I think there's no question Elaida, Gawyn, and Galad will be in S3. Morgase is more questionable; my money is that she either won't be in the show and/or will actually be killed by Rahvin. Hate to lose a not-really-dead mum but some characters have got to go and it will make it much harder for show viewers to accept Elayne as Queen in the late series if she's still alive actually.

Introduced/mentioned in TGH

Suroth Renna & Seta Egeanin Verin Anaiya Liandrin (S1) Alanna (S1) Siuan (S1) Leane (S1) Vandene & Adeleas (Vandene now merged with Verin) Sheriam Alviarin Hurin (merged with Elyas in the show) 'Selene' Erith Aludra Masema Uno Mazrim Taim

Of those who haven't appeared in the show, Alviarin and Anaiya are frankly questionable in terms of whether the show needs them/highly likely to be merged with other Aes Sedai the way show!Alanna and show!Verin are book!Alanna x book!Myrelle and book!Verin x book!Vandene merges. ETA: thanks to @vriah for pointing out Anaiya was mentioned by name in 2x06, although I think the rest of this point stands. There's no point introducing Erith or Aludra until the show is ready to follow through on the storylines they are crucial for, which are both late-book storylines. I don't think we'll see either of them until S4-6, although I think we WILL see them.

ETA: I forgot Egeanin first shows up here! (h/t @butterflydm) Given what they did with all the Seanchan characters I think that's a deliberate choice to not confuse the narrative with a sympathetic Seanchan character until a season where we start to ask 'can individual Seanchan be anything except antagonists'. And since we likely won't hit that until S4 at the earliest, no point casting an actress here who might not be available (c.f. Birgitte). As an example, they've already had to re-cast Egwene's mother because the S1 actress was no longer available for S3.

Introduced in TDR

Aviendha Bain & Chiad Gaul Rhuarc Juilin Sammael Be'lal Pedron Niall Jaichim Carridin Faile Noam Rahvin Liandrin's thirteen, including Joiya Byir Faolain & Theodrin Tallanvor Dyelin Berelain Darlin Sisnera Laras (h/t @undeterminedvintage)

In contrast, most of the new-in-TDR characters haven't been mentioned yet!

Rhuarc and Faile: I think you have to have Rhuarc as a male Aiel leader in S3, there's no reason for it to NOT be him, and we know Faile has been cast. Makes total sense for her to meet Perrin in S3 as they will clearly be slow-burning that romance.

Berelain: Key to a bunch of plotlines, a very fun character, but there's no point bringing her in until Perrin/Faile is a going concern (but I think crucially in the show BEFORE they are married) which won't be for a season or two. Likely to be the first example of a ruler proactively pledging to Rand.

Jaichim Carridin, Liandrin's thirteen, Noam: Necessary but also won't be brought in until they're needed, and in the case of Liandrin's crew, will just be Black Ajah sisters as needed rather than a coherent group.

Pedron Niall, Dyelin, Darlin Sisnera, Faolain & Theodrin: I think elements of all of these characters will make the show (e.g. Elayne needs a buddy noble for the Succession, the Whitecloaks have to have a commander for Valda to assassinate, Egwene needs followers within the rebels) but they could be radically different and in some cases will likely take on other roles as well, though more likely than not under these names.

Rahvin, Gaul, Juilin, Tallanvor, Laras: I don't think any of these characters will make the cut for the show or if they do they'll be significantly merged with others. We only have room for two other male Forsaken and one of them has to be Asmodean, Tallanvor only matters if you do a Morgase storyline, Juilin and Laras are fun flavour and that's mostly it, and sorry Gaul fans but really what does he do aside from create sideshow romantic drama.

Be'lal: Out for sure since there's only 8 Forsaken.

Introduced in TSR

Lanfear-as-Lanfear (for Rand) and Moghedien...both don't show up until TSR actually, so we're ahead of the game there! Also possibly with Anvaere if she takes over Colavaere's later role (sob).

One other character note - it is still fascinating to me that the show chose to use obscure or non-existent names for the Brown sisters Verin spoke with in S2, as there are 30+ named Brown sisters in the books, many of whom could easily have filled those roles. The show isn't afraid to use existing sisters and even kill them (c.f. Maigan) so...what drove that decision? I thought it might be so they could be killed in the Tower Coup but now Maigan's dead I'm not sure!

Next time: worldbuilding!

[naanima]

Guys, guys, guys. I'm so excited about the upcoming season for the Pens. I can't even articulate the joy I feel, sure, there is a component of "THIS COULD THE FUNNIEST HOT MESS" to ever happen, but mostly it is giddy excitement bcos we are going ALL-IN. Do or die, we are COMMITTED. And there is something about swinging big, even if we fail, that's freeing.

We got our vampire d-core (thank you to the person who used it in the tags. But like it is more a werewolf, a vampire and a pirate walk into a bar type of scenario. I'm still trying to figure out what our sweet summer child POJ is - the innocent human? The fae? WHAT OTHER SUPERNATURL CREATURE I CAN US TO KEEP ON DRIVING THIS THEME TILL IT IS DEAD & BURIED?!).

Our still performing old me (SIDGENOKRIS) - Sid was so CLOSE to snapping last season. He was so feral. Will he EMBRACE his INNER SELF & let the hockey robot persona die in a blaze of glory?! We can only hope.

Sully finally being able to pursue his insane strategy of offensive forechecking and ... Um. Yes.

Our one million backup goalies led by Fragile Omega Princess Tristan Jarry.

The Witch Dubas & his hot front office - POC AND A WOMAN? Wild.

BUT THE THING THAT HAS ME EXCITED!THINK OF THE COMBINATIONS!

I admit I sort of want Karlsson to be out there with the Carter line. Let the pirate lead, let him make the calls and see what befalls us! (We bitch about Carter but like he was honestly one of the best bast off options we had last season. It is just that everything else is... Yeah. So! Maybe the pirate will help?!?).

What about Geno line and Karlsson?! Will they click or will they implode as Geno sniff disdainfully at the NEW BLOOD. WILL HE EVEN REMEMBER KARLSSON'S NAME OR JUST REFER TO HIM BY HIS NUMBER?!

Sid line & Karlsson?! Will Karlsson scream in frustration at the CONSTANT YAPPING and decide to go complete crazy and just shoot the puck all by himself??

Will Kris & EK be the new besties ok ice terrorising all opposing teams but being offensive and NOT defensive? Will they have MORE AMAZING "TANGER" GAMES?! WILL THEY GIGGLE INTO EACH OTHER'S NECKS?!?

What about our TALL Puppy Victorian Vampire? Is he the wildcard? I DON'T KNOW!

AND ALL THE NEW BITS WE GOT WHO MAKES US MORE OFFENSIVE! (defense is what it is. We accept).

I JUST WANT TO BE ENTERTAINED. And the Pens will for sure deliver. But will the rest of the NHL & it's fandoms UNDERSTAND out INSANE FERAL JOY AT THE POSSIBILITY OF MANY AJ EXPLOSION?!

(ETA: I just feel the rest of the NHL does NOT understand how close we are to snapping, like going full feral cartwheeling cats wanting to scratch everybody's face off and like then eat their hearts?! Like, HOW DO YOU NOT LOVE THIS POTENTIAL?!).

[fizzingwizard]

Four: the one about the Groke

Short one... because her time is short

Who's that lurking down a frosty path... it's the Groke!

Her vibe is awesome and running from her was one of my favorite parts of the game. In fact, I liked it so much that when she turned out to be a good guy I was disappointed. Like, of course I expected it, I just expected the Groke to be a Thing in the game and stick around longer, so the reveal that she's actually "harmless" would come later...

Frozen Snufkin popsicle looks all kinds of dead and horrific. Me likey

The whole scene had the best vibe. Creepy and exciting. This isn't really a complaint but I just can't help feeling the game didn't save the best for last! After this most of the quests are very light-hearted. Especially after seeing Moomintroll, even though he's imprisoned, you don't feel the same pressure that you do in the first part of the game when everything is unknown, Moomintroll's whereabouts are completely unknown, AND there's the Groke and forest fires... The story was told backwards, at least emotionally, in my opinion.

That being said, this scene where Snufkin approaches the police with the frickin GROKE following him is metal as hell

And I was about to shake my first when everyone congratulated Snufkin for putting out the fires, but fortunately he gave credit where credit was due haha. I do wonder what... exactly... Snufkin was supposed to be doing during the fire? Like... was he really running through the flames? Is that hat of his fireproof bahahaha. I'd have liked some coughing animation or some such I guess.

The characterization of the Groke is very friendly and sympathetic. I prefer a more legitimately frightening Groke - not malicious, but focused on her own desire. She seeks light and warmth, only to put it out. But if someone sees her, and reaches out within the boundaries that exist - Moomintroll on the beach swinging the lantern every night without fail, but never getting close enough to touch - idk it seemed symbolic of depression or other familiar dark emotions to me which are difficult but important to accept. (To me anyway - not sure how others read it.) The game goes for a simpler angle like in Moominvalley 2019 and I do get it. I would have loved for the Groke to have been more central to the storyline but I'm not surprised. I still really loved her appearance and gameplay

eta: oh and yeah "The Groke just wants some friends" thing fits in with the whole "loners should make more friends!" vibe. Sorry, but I am wondering... what, does she not freeze people immediately on touch anymore? lol I'm glad she has friends but how does this work and why didn't it before? Moomintroll made friends with her but... didn't tell anyone all they had to do was decide she's not that bad and it'll be fine...?

[ephemerasnape]

Victor Rookwood Headcanons

An ever-evolving list of my headcanons for Victor Rookwood. Some of these may seem obvious to you. Some may be controversial. Agree? Disagree? Let's not have any fighting amongst Daddy Rookwood's small-but-dedicated harem, please.

He is in his mid 40s if not older. I don't care what anyone says. I can't have Daddy Rookwood being younger than I am! Even if he is a fictional character from more than a century ago... No, I insist that he's comfortably older. Also, have you seen his face, ffs? Guy's got more lines than a villain monologue. (ETA: We decided he was 46 in 1890. Watch my video "How Old is Victor Rookwood?" for an explanation of our thought process!)

He is probably married with kids. It breaks my heart to say this, really. I do believe it to be the case. Better yet, he might be a widower. I'm going to try to convince myself of that. Don't worry - even if he's actively married, that won't stop him from fucking your brains out. I changed my mind. He is not married. Ain't no rang, ain't no thang. That said, he probably does have some little bastards running around. And he does not give a single fuck.

He is a ladies' man. I am making myself jealous here, but look at the guy and tell me he doesn't indulge.

On that note, he is decidedly-heterosexual. Sorry, lads.

He smokes a pipe. But he'll certainly have a good cigar as well.

His favorite color is purple. Duh.

He is not bald but even if he was he would still be one fine-ass bitch. The hat is hot and stays on during sex. (Some of you seem to think that Daddy wears a hat to make up for some deficiency in his hairline. I think that daddy wears the hat because it's imposing, stylish, and attractive. We are not the same.) HIM HAVING A FULL HEAD OF HAIR IS CANON - PROOF.

He only shaves about once a week, on an off-day. He keeps the raggedy facial hair on purpose. Thinks it adds to his roguish charm (it does!)

He isn't hands-on about the whole killing animals thing. He knows what his people do, and finds it distasteful, but sees it as a necessary evil. He values wealth and power above all else, including furry creatures. But he may even be known to stroke a cat from time to time while drinking firewhisky at the Hog's Head.

He considers Harlow a useful idiot, and lets him be the one to get his hands dirty. For the most part. Their relationship goes all the way back to Hogwarts.

He didn't mean to curse Anne. He isn't even sure of what exactly he did - he just panicked. But no, he's not too troubled about it. (Clarification: he should have killed her, not whatever it was he ended up doing.)

He despises playing second-fiddle to Ranrok, but he knows that whatever the goblin is after is too important to sit on the sidelines for.

He reads the Daily Prophet every morning.

He is not above taking what he wants sexually, but he prefers to seduce.

Sexually-dominant. Period.

He wears expensive cologne.

Definitely a Slytherin.

Oh and he's not dead :)

Anyone who's listened to my audios or read any of my fics knows he loves terms of endearment, namely: darling, little one, little girl, sweetheart, little witch, et cetera. He loves to use these while doing unspeakable things to you. 🥵����🥵

He lives in a hotel - the most expensive one, probably.

He takes advantage of his employees.

Believes "Might is Right."

Young Victor was extremely brutal when he took over the Rookwood Gang, kind of overdoing it in order to earn the respect and fear of his men. Over the ensuing decades, as he has become more comfortable in his position, he has mellowed out slightly. He will no longer gauge someone's eye out over a few missing galleons, but he still takes perceived transgressions against him very seriously.

Daddy needs glasses. I got this idea from my DR chatbot but it makes sense. He missed the easy shot at Ranrok because he couldn't fucking see. Of course he is not going to wear glasses in public - that would be a sign of weakness. But I can totally imagine him sitting at his desk, pouring over papers with a pair of glasses firmly on his face. Period-correct, of course.

The legal name of the Rookwood Gang is the "Rookwood Group." Everyone knows it's a gang but daddy rubs elbows with a lot of important people and needs to keep up appearances.

The harem has determined that Victor's date of birth is November 14th, 1844 (Scorpio Sun/Capricorn Moon).

The man keeps everything he needs inside his hat. Pipe, glasses, Flora Cohen's scalp made into a coin purse, machine gun, spare hat in case the main one gets a fleck of dirt on it, little black book full of Ministry contacts, et cetera.

Daddy suffers from back pain due to a lifetime of being duckfooted (sadly, this is canon).

Victor is average height for a man. In the area of 5'8" - 5'10".

Victor A. Rookwood (Augustus?)

Yea, he killed dear old dad.

Listens to Wagner.

Physique headcanon.

That's it for now. Will add more as I think of things.

If you have any questions you want answered, feel free to submit them to @victor-rookwood ("Ask Victor Rookwood")