#I am assassinated mid post

[292-ludovica]

t4t actually stands for ‘twofort’, a reference to the iconic Team Fortress 2 map ‘ctf_

[milf--adjacent]

Something that convinced me that transmysoginy exists more than any other argument was how immediate and violent the reaction from TMEs and adjacent folks was. As soon as you bring up the very idea of queer groups having power dynamics it's a flood of "You're intersexist" "You're transandrophobic" "You have no idea what's going on" "you hate gnc people", etc. etc. without ever trying to debunk the argument, and often resorting to character assassinations.

To 'debunk' the argument would mean they would have to address it which means facing their possibly hidden biases upon which they build their own narrative of superiority. They wanna say "you're a bunch of baddel bigot transfem supremacists" when in reality we're chipping away at their own supremacist values simply by mentioning that we are whole people who are consistently forgotten and undervalued by queer communities at large. They think we "want on top" when all we want is an end to veiled hate and dismissal of our thoughts, feelings, and experiences because we were forced to walk through life with a big 'M' on our records and somehow that means we lived the good life until we started "pretending" to be women. All we want is to be considered and included.

Like there was this gushing outporing of support for that post that told trans women to stay alive then told trans men to stay alive, and a bunch of TME people were like "I've never heard it phrased for trans men before!" and while I can respect their experience 1. We curate our own experiences here, so maybe follow some more positive trans men and you'll see plenty of transmasc positivity (I see plenty and I'm not even looking for it!) and 2. Which part of the community has a long, lingering, often unreported suicide issue? Which types of trans people are ostracized from the groups and communities that are supposed to help them and care for them? Which group of trans people makes up the bulk of the trans suicide stats?

Trans women are dying of lonliness and despair every day, and some TME people want to turn it into a "both sides" issue of "balance" and "fairness." I think one side lacks proper balance and fairness since one side has entire stores and clothing lines dedicated to their needs, but when I want a bra or shoes in my size, I have to wade through listings labeled "CROSSDRESSER SISSY BOTTOM TRANSEXUAL CLOTHING FOR MEN" to find something. I go to the queer support group and I am the only transfem in the room and the whole organization is run by TME people. I go to pride and there's so much fanfare for the drag queens who live their lives as gay men and only adopt womanhood as a performance, but even for the fucking TRANS MARCH, only one transfem is given space to speak on stage, and she is quickly bustled from the stage so a TME DJ can spin a super mid remix of I Feel Love (should have just played the extended dance mix for fucks sake) and yet another drag queen can perform.

It's not just me noticing these things, and many transfems aren't half as brave as me because of histories of abuse and neglect.

To even validate the argument that transfems are overlooked and neglected would be to address one's role in making that happen so consistently, so it's easier for that type of TME person to cast individual trans women as some sort of monster than to address their own internalized transmisogyny. No one likes to be told they're hurting someone, but no one goes full hater as quickly as a white queer person who is told their lack of empathy empowers transmisogyny.

[exhuastedpigeon]

Helllllo and welcome to my new Weekly Fic Recs!

This first one is going to be a little long since I’m going to rec my favourite fics that I’ve read so far in November. I’ll likely post a list weekly moving forward (probably Friday or Saturday) and will tag them as ‘Han’s Buddie Recs��� and 'Han's Weekly Fic Recs'

These fics are in order of longest to shortest and are separated into newly read, reread, and wips! Anything in italics is a comment from me.

Newly Read

and here, too, am i by Daisies_and_Briars/@cal-daisies-and-briars Teen || 41.1k Six months into their marriage, Eddie is still struggling to decide whether or not he wants more kids, when he knows Buck does. The universe may not scream, but it certainly talks.

I don’t have much else to say about this fic besides ‘it’s extremely great’

Tick Tick Boom by ChasetheWindTouchtheSky Teen || 30.4k Buck decides he doesn’t need therapy, reverts to some bad habits, and explodes. Or, the Breakdown Fic.

every time we stop talking (the universe starts screaming) by withmeornotatall/@chronicowboy Mature || 21.9k Buck gets reckless, eddie gets angry, they talk in all the wrong ways, and the universe decides to intervene

Divorce 2.0 era. 

All The Work That Needs To Be Done by trysetmeonfire/@try-set-me-on-fireTeen || 14.6k Bobby dies. Eddie worries. Life goes on.

This fic made me cry on multiple occasions, reader beware that it will probably make you cry too. It’s beautiful. 

Sixth time's the charm by CorgiQueen14/@corgiqueen14 Teen || 14.2k The mid-lawsuit time loop fic that you didn't know you needed.

I’m a hoe for a time loop 

you had to kill me (it killed you just the same) by MonsterRae1/@monsterrae1Explicit || 12.4k The Hire to Kill Au. Buck's a hired assassin sent after Eddie, instead, he ends up falling in love.

Got Weird by Daisies_and_Briars/@cal-daisies-and-briars Explicit || 10.5k Shortly after Buck and Natalia break up, Eddie gets tipsy and makes a rather forward move. Then immediately panics (not that Eddie panics, of course) and backpedals. Eddie spirals, Buck is confused. Lots of spontaneous kissing ensues.

The idiots in love tag was invited for this specific fic, I swear. 

I wanna spend my forever like that by wikiangela/@wikiangela General || 8.6k Eddie catches a cold and stubbornly denies he's sick, while a fondly exasperated Buck is trying to take care of him.

Something Dumb to Do by glorious_spoon/@glorious-spoon Explicit || 8.5k Buck and Eddie try something out together.

These men are idiots and it’s perfect and VERY hot. 

i'd swim to your call on my phone by heartbeatdiaz/@loserdiaz Teen || 8.5k Buck's daughter keeps calling 9-1-1 for help with her homework, Eddie is smitten and apparently 9-1-1 works better than Tinder

What's Died Will Never Stay Dead by HMSLusitania/@hmslusitania Teen || 6.5k The immortal firefam AU no one asked for.

Yet another Buddie banger from a ship that sank in 1915. 

swinging for the fences by inbetweenthestacks/@organizedstardust Teen || 6.4k Buck takes Eddie to a baseball game.

This is the first baseball/baseball adjacent fic I’ve read in the Buddie fandom that made my baseball obsessed heart very happy. You don’t have to care about baseball to like it though!The line “Is baseball just…math?�� made me actually laugh out loud because.. Yeah baseball kind of is math. 

if you go down in the woods today by oklahoma/@malewifediazTeen || 6.3k “Oh, oh. I can’t believe this. I can’t believe you.” Buck grips Bobby’s hands as he goes down to the ground, looking up at Eddie with hot fire in his big blue eyes. “You’re gonna owe me so many blowjobs when I wake up. D’you hear me, Eddie Diaz? You owe me so bad.”

They’re so goofy with each other in this and it feels so true to the characters and show. A delight! 

kiss and make up by 42hrb Explicit || 3.3k Instead of being soft and sweet or adrenaline fueled and filled with love and thanks that they're both alive, their first kiss comes in the middle of a fight in Eddie’s living room.

shameless self promo, but I loved writing this fic so here it is on my own rec list :)

if this love is pain (let's hurt tonight) by HungryHungryHippo/@hippolotamus Teen || 3.2k After Chris leaves for college Buck mysteriously disappears. Five years later he finally returns with some answers.

Honestly... it's perfect

let heart hold true by lecornergirl/@clusterbuck Teen || 2.4k Eddie comes out to christopher. things snowball from there.

nicknames, supernova similes and the family we make by thewolvesof1998/@thewolvesof1998 General || 800 words Bobby and Athena meet Buck and Eddie's new baby girl.

Reread

like a dog with a bird at your door by fleetinghearts/@shitouttabuckExplicit || 51k Evan “i love you like a dog” buckley has only ever known how to love like, well, a dog, but maybe eddie diaz is the kinda guy to give a flea-bitten mongrel a forever home

I wish I was lying when I say I’ve read this fic 4 times since it came out, but I’m not. It’s so damn good. 

Hot Ghost Problems by ebjameston/@ebjameston Teen || 40.9k The ghost would prefer to go by Buck, if Eddie wouldn’t mind.

I can’t find the worlds to tell you how much I love this fucking fic. It’s so good. It might actually be perfect. 

of bake sales and overdue realizations by brewrosemilk/@gayhoediaz Teen || 4.8k Eddie doesn’t notice it until it becomes a thing that happens even when it’s just him and Buck, without Chris anywhere near them - but even then, he doesn’t find it strange, or give it much thought. Buck is the one who starts ending their phone calls with a quick ‘love you’ but it doesn't take long before Eddie does the same, often beating him to it.

WIPs

Maybe More Than I Should by Leslie_Knope Mature || 30k || ¾ chapters complete Eddie caught sight of the man leaning against the side of his desk and immediately wanted to retreat to the relative safety of the hallway, back in time when he lived happily not knowing that Mr. Buckley was apparently some kind of male model masquerading as a third-grade teacher.

This fic is an absolutely TREAT

[saltieststar]

Welcome to Sceleritas' Masterclass on Gaslighting

No, no, no, Enver does not get to call us "his nearest and dearest," "his favorite assassin." Have the narrator tell us that "He did miss this," "He's teasing you," and "You're a sight for sore eyes." Tell us, "It's you I've been dying to see," and "We can be good for each other." Even after you tell this man you're not interested, you're on your own buddy, Gortash gives you an I most certainly am not, and he really must insist on you staying for the coronation as it is the first step to your shared glory. Not to mention if you piss him off but tell him you like him too, he pauses mid-threat and remembers all the times you spent together. NOT TO MENTION, DURGE HAS AN ENTIRE CRISIS OF FAITH OVER THIS ONE MAN, AND THEN LARIAN ACTS LIKE THEY ARE ONLY WORK FRIENDS. YA, I BET THAT'S WHAT YOU TELL YOUR WIFE TOO LARIAN. They're just a coworker, love. Nothing to worry about, I swear. We're not the crazy ones here. Okay, maybe a little, but we're not crazy about this. The obvious answer is that Larian is in bed with Bhaal. Sceleritas held a masterclass on gaslighting and brought Larian in on Scel's scheme to keep his young master away from the Banite.

Just to be clear, this post is satire. I appreciate the nuance of Durge/Enver's relationship, but I think most of it is in the past. Romancing an amnesiac Durge is really going to have to wait until after they've conquered the brain. DO you know how many years it took Enver to train Durge to be a good boy? Too many.

[viaviv124]

Little addition to my post debunking Nayfrogs (i shall stay with this term because it's hillarious) because i just remembered. Bullfrog is a war vet. He fought in the Wasteland war.

We don't know when exactly this war was but Eden exists for roughly 40 years now, meaning Bullfrog is probably in his mid 30s considering he grew up there. Preeeetty sure this man is old and mature enough to decide shit on his own. You're telling me a guy who spent probably his entire or most of his life training to be an assassin and also served in a war against Eden is being groomed by something he saw on TV when he was a small child? We don't know if hybrids can reproduce on their own (allthough Bullfrogs full name "Bullfrog Korvin Jr." suggests it) and if he was made in a lab i'm also pretty sure the Rayman Show was forced on him in an attempt to "form" him.

I really don't get your grooming point, peeps. If y'all watched Spongebob as a kid and 30+ years you meet him and you hated him at first but would end up dating him eventually, would he have groomed you? He didn't even know you existed when you were a child. Please explain your logic to me because i am genuinely curious on how you came up with it.

As people have stated before, if an age gap makes you uncomfortable, that's fine. If you dont like a ship, that's fine. Block and move on. I feel like unless a ship actually has a bunch of problematic shit you want to call attention to (like literally a child and an adult, i will die on this hill) there's no need to say something. There's shit people shouldnt enable from my view point. But consenting adults with an age gap because one of them is pretty much an ageless being made of light? Yeah no. That's just petty.

[stranded-in-quantum]

Haytham Kenway <3

My art style is transitioning to something new and the mid process of it looks.... Interesting x3 I will be reworking some of my COD ocs for Tekken rn, but I am madly into Assassin´s creed hahaha <3 I will post my Detroit Become Human fandom contribution soon as well hopefully!

[littlefanficprincess]

I want to see your pretty face

Oneshot

Pair: Tord (post end) x reader

Song: One woman Army (Porcelain Black)

Part 2

(A/n): Tord doesn't appear yet, but I want to first bridge the gap between meetings.

~~~~~~~~

How long has it been since I've seen Tord? 2...3 years, maybe 4?

It doesn't really matter to me, I just hope that he is alright. To keep my mind off things, I began to work out. Run around the block a few times every morning, do some yoga and going to the gym atleast twice a week.

I never got the answer on why Tord was on that wanted poster, there were more wanted posters everyday. Makes me wonder what he did to be wanted for that much money.

It was currently morning, I was on my morning run when I noticed a flyer on the ground. I grab it from the concrete floor and let me gaze glide across it. It seemed old, it had small tears and faded colors.

Red Army

+47 12345678

'Red Army? I don't think I've ever heard of it. It wouldn't hurt giving it a call, I'm kinda curious' I fold the flyer and stuff it into my pocket.

Once I had finished my jog, I enter my house and sits down on the couch. I pull put my phone and the flyer. I carefully type in the number into my phone.

Ring...Ring..."Hello, this is Senna Akuna from the Red Army. How may I help you?" A woman voice was on the other side, she sound like she was in her mid-thirties.

"My name is (Y/n) (L/n). I found a flyer on the street about the red army, I was curious on what the Red Army is" I chimes, fiddling with end of my shirt.

The woman on the other side lets a groan "Paul said he got rid of them all. Well the Red Army is an organisation which has the goal to change the world. It has existed for many years"

"Is there anyway to join it?"

"There is indeed ons, I could set up an appointment to see if you're fit. It's alright if you refuse. I will warn you that if you leak this information, you will be assassinated" She informs.

"Well, isn't that just comforting. I am intrested in joining"

"Ofcourse. I have a spot for you on Monday the 27th at 2:30, Is that a good time for you?"

"Yes, where should I go?"

"Go to the abandoned walnut factory outside town, there you will be picked up by a car. Which will bring you the base, you will be escorted to my office. I will see you then, have a nice day"

"You too" I press on the hang up button, and let out a huff. The idea of being in an army sounds thrilling and also exciting. I'd say I'm pretty fit and thanks to all those times where me and Tord went to the shooting range. Even if I was rusty, I still knew how to use a gun.

┏━°⌜ 赤い糸 ⌟°━┓

Timeskip

┗━°⌜ 赤い糸 ⌟°━┛

(Y/n) taps her foot against the concrete. She has been waiting for a few minutes, feeling the breeze blow past her.

A car pulls up, the windows were too dark to see inside. The window of it slightly lowers, just enough to hear what is going on inside, but not see inside.

"(Y/n) (L/n)?" A voice inside questions.

"That's me" (Y/n) answers, nodding.The back door opens, inviting her in. She enters the car, sitting down on the seat. She closes the door as the car takes off.

┏━°⌜ 赤い糸 ⌟°━┓

Timeskip

┗━°⌜ 赤い糸 ⌟°━┛

She was dropped off at a big building, it was black and red. She carefully the approaches the enterance, noticing a red button next to the door.

Reaching out, she presses it. A click could heard and the door opens. (Y/n) enters, cautiously, looking around.

"You must be (Y/n)" A voice says. Making (Y/n) turn towards the source finding a man. He was wearing a red sweater, with a blue overcoat over it. He had brown hair with split bangs.

"The one and only" The girl responds. She eyes the name tag on his uniform 'Patryck'.

"Follow me" Patryck turns his back, using his hand to motion for the girl to follow. He leads her to an office, it was a silent between them. Patryck found the girl familiar but couldn't place his finger on where he saw her. He knocks on the door.

"Who is it?" (Y/n) hears the same voice she spoke to on the phone.

"It's Patryck, I have (Y/n) (L/n) with me" Patryck speaks."Right, Patryck, you can leave. (L/n), please enter"

Patryck gives a small wave, before walking off to somewhere. (Y/n) turns to the door, opening it and walking through it.

There was a desk with a woman sitting behind it. She had dark colored hair and a suit with a red tie. She motions for the girl to take a seat infront of the desk, which she does.

"I have looked at your portfolio, I'm quite impressed. I heard that you often visited a shooting ranch, is that correct?" Senna explains, looking at the person on the other side of the desk.

"Oh yeah, like...6 years I think. It was mostly with my friend Tord, I haven't seen him in a long time, so I stopped visiting" (Y/n) replies, scratching her cheek.

Senna hums "interesting" she writes something on a paper next to, she puts the pen down "Your future will be discussed, I'll give you a call next week"

[cosmic-metanoia]

Femininity Concepts in FFXVI

***Spoilers for Final Fantasy XVI***

Well, here I am again, now focusing on the female characters.

Like I did in the previous post, I will focus on the female Dominants first then highlight some secondary characters that really stood out.

*Jill - Come on, we gotta start with our beloved gal. She demonstrates this silent but strong (and even fearsome) spirit. She's very supportive of Clive but is not afraid to voice her opinions. She possesses a natural elegance and grace but demonstrates her fierce capabilities on the battlefield. She has a knack for negotiation and relating to others. We really see her unveil her dark side when she confronts her past head on in the Iron Kingdom. What's fantastic is that she asked for Clive's support and understanding but made it clear that she would be the one to face off against the Crystalline Orthodoxy's head priest (his name escapes me). Jill may not always make background commentary but her words are carefully selected and measured.

*Benedikta - She is your classic femme fatale that plays with men to further advance her position. Yet the one who she is in a love/hate relationship with is the one she can't have. She is ferocious yet what makes her different is that she contains this hidden sorrow and just wants to be genuinely loved. The way she frantically panicked when she lost her Eikon honestly brought tears to my eyes. She ended up with the wrong crowd and played this game of political chess in a room full of powerful men yet she instantly realized how useless she was to them in that moment of losing her most valuable piece.

*Side note: Let's hope that Leviathan the Lost is another female Eikon when the DLC hits in the next few months!! <3

*Jote - Okay, this awesome woman is HIGHLY underrated! She is incredibly enigmatic and we learn so much about her from the thoughts of other characters but never from her own lips! Initially players may brush her off as some unimportant maid servant but we see that she is so much more - a shield, a formidable fighter (though never witnessed!), a healer, a scout, etc. She's basically doing the jobs of Tarja, Clive, and Gav wrapped up in one! Yet her eyes give away her feelings towards Joshua and especially when she frets over his health. Yes, she longs for him but what makes it unique is that she loves him for who he is, not for what benefits his Eikon brings to the Undying that worships him.

*Mid - A freakin' prodigy. I mean, she is the head of the hideaway engineers! An occupation that is stereotypically masculine. She is 100% focused on her tasks and is not your typical 16 year old gal for sure. Her genius inventions, zest for life, and fast-talking mannerisms has all of the hideaway family wrapped around her finger (true, also because she is Cid's daughter). That whole scene with Joshua kneeling to kiss her hand upon meeting her cracked me up - she's the last woman who requires a chivalrous display but what I love is how she laughed and pulled him up and gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

*Charon - What can I say, this woman does not take s--- from ANYONE. She's even intimidating to some of the men at the hideaway which is absolutely hilarious. She is a hardened woman that commands respect but has her softer side which takes time to reveal. Money is on her mind but eventually she learns that there should be more to life - using her abilities as a cunning merchant to help a cause greater than herself.

*Tarja - Like Charon, she also does not accept any B.S. and takes her job as the non-magical physicker very seriously. What's great is that she isn't a nurse but the actual (and only) doctor of the hideaway. Her extensive knowledge is incredibly valuable and the hideaway would definitely not have survived without her.

*Vivian - A woman held in high-esteem who is so focused on the garnering of knowledge that she even gets targeted by assassins. Her intelligence certainly tips the scales in favor of the Cursebreakers to gain the upper hand.

*Anabella - I have a huge post written about her but I figure it's worth mentioning a particular aspect. She possesses quite the evil ambitions and is able to persuade not just the theocratic Sanbrequois emperor but powerful men from other nations - NOT just through her looks but through her conniving strategies. She longs for a powerful legacy forged by the greatest possible noble blood and even views herself as the prized breeding cow.

Some other examples of different aspects of female characters include: Eloise who is an astute businesswoman who conducted deals and contracts while her brother Theodore (sob) became her trusted porter; Martha who is the tough protector of Martha's Rest - the Rosarians put their trust and faith in her; the same with the Northreach residents when it came to Isabelle. What's great about her is that she is a courtesan but we see her blossom into a strong and trustworthy leader that many held in high esteem.

Even the stoic Dorys is the commander of a Cursebreakers squad.

I love how the story had female characters each with their own drives and ambitions whether they were motivated by a just cause or for evil reasons.

[nightmarerodent]

Please I am begging you tell us more about Hanzo and Takeda's relationship in the early days, that post made me sob

Ok. My job has the worst cell signal known to man and Tumbler is being a little brat right now and has deleted my answer three times now, but I shall endure because I feel like this topic isn’t explored enough and is just glossed over by NetherRealm.

Takeda was a lost, scared, angry kid that just lost his mother in the most traumatic way possible and then seemingly abandoned by a father he’s only know for a few days, being dropped on the doorstep of the most dangerous being Earthrealm has ever known. He had no one, was in a strange place, surrounded by assassins. Also, he was eight years old. Literal baby.

Then you have Hanzo. Scorpion. The man too angry to die. Lost his wife and son and spent years as a fiery hell wraith bent on revenge and now trying to rebuild the clan he had lost all those years ago. He’s given up on ever seeing his family again and is suddenly tasked with protecting and training a small child.

Of course they become overly attached to one another. Now I don’t think it was intentional on Hanzo’s part, at least not a first. Takeda is Kenshi’s son and he would want to honor that, but the second the kid slips up and calls him Dad instead of Master all bets are off. That’s his son now. Forget Kenshi, we are signing those adoption papers today. Now, Hanzo will try to remain impartial, but it’s hard to hide the clear favoritism when you make the youngest member of the clan your personal apprentice and heir.

Now onto Takeda. Again, eight year old, lost everything, needs stability. Naturally he’d cling to whoever provided that and after finally giving up on his father ever returning for him and Hanzo helping him through the pain, he’d cling to the grandmaster like he’s a life line. Double that because he’s also the youngest member of the clan by quite a bit, the second youngest being in their mid teens as seen in the comics. Hanzo had to personally raise and protect Takeda. As far as emotions were concerned Hanzo was dad. He’s the one that was there for all of Takeda’s milestones. He was the one that comforted Takeda when he cried or was scared. He was the one giving advice and life lessons and lending an ear when Takeda needed it.

Now, as far as early relationships go, there was tension for the first few months. Hanzo was stand off ish and Takeda was a bit of a brat, but by the end of year one he had become Hanzo’s little shadow and hung on every word the grandmaster said. Hanzo saw the son he had lost in Takeda and was willing to do whatever it takes to preserve what little innocence the boy had left. So to say he was a bit spoiled would probably be an understatement.

Still, all that extra attention must have payed off because by the time we see him in MKX he’s the youngest in Shirai Ryu history to achieve the rank of Chujin and has pretty solidly earned his title of being second in command.

[sgiandubh]

Zan, Zendegi, Âzâdi/ Woman, life, freedom

Disclaimer: I took an inordinately amount of time to ponder and write the following. Last lost occasion was just before the most Recent Blunder - not exactly the best moment to mention other Oriental affairs.

Last mid-December, we all (yes, even me) watched this, live from Madrid:

This moment was important, in many ways, and at the time, the focus was on the personal acknowledgements part of the speech. One of my very first posts on this damn blog even deals with some elements of context overlooked by many. Mordor has pretzeled its collective quarter neuron to try and demonstrate, once more, 'he didn't mean it like that' (he did exactly mean it like that, mind you). Some even bravely tried to link S to 'Mysterious Muslim Woman nr. 6625' (to no great success). Finally, Norouzi was mentioned, in more or less salaciously insinuating overtones . A ready-made explanation for something they simply could not grasp: it's a bit more complicated than Bridgerton's plot, I am afraid. Everything about that evening was discussed, apparently ad nauseam.

But not the Persian reference. That went completely under the radar and I think it's a shame. So why that reference?

It was everywhere. On October 28 2022, in Buenos Aires, for example, Coldplay (and the exiled Persian actress Golshifteh Farahani) were openly supporting on stage the Persian women's unprecedented protests. This specific wave of protests followed the horrendous assassination of Mahsa Amini, a student who died while in police custody for the crime of 'wearing her headscarf improperly', on September 22, 2022:

So no Muslim woman and - I bet the farm - no Alex Norouzi were instrumental in this choice. Someone else was. A someone who openly protested, too and at a very early moment: as early as October 1st, 2022. Kindly refer to the 0:28 mark:

This made no waves, at its time, either on X or Tumblr. It wasn't exactly convenient to the Narrative, you see. And Norouzi, spare for being Persian himself - something else that escaped the Mordorian intelligentsia for almost five years (!) - is, in my humble opinion, quite a different story altogether.

I started to write a horrendously long post about history, culture and all the personal rest. But I realize it would just be too much. I would simply discuss AN, the Add-on a bit later: that should make things more clear.

[xxswagcorexx]

Hey do you maybe have any lifesteal fic recs? There’s not a lot of rec lists in this fandom and I’m not sure where to start!

okay so um. i am perhaps the Worst person to go to when it comes to this stuff because. You See,

if you want a more. comprehensible list, my two swagdoons fic recommendations is probably the best place to start (1, 2). i am also going to shout out the nevada series and no bills in the mail since i've seen a few people talk about them on tumblr and i love both of them!

but i have gone through my bookmarks and have complied some fics! all of these fics are complete :)

Sweet Berry Pie by beaningeneraldenial

Clown is a busy assassin with too much experience on him to not attract a lot of potential clients and employers. One contract has him going away on the week of his and Branzy's 2nd anniversary, which Branzy doesn't appreciate much. He knows, however, how to make their anniversary celebration good! He makes a pie… he only adds a bit of gunpowder in it. or: Clown should've left a post-it note on the fridge saying "Do NOT touch, Branzy!" before he left for the week. He regrets it only a little.

Repent, Harlequin by trafficpose

The problem with knowing Clown: suddenly, chaos was an option.

Tunnel Vision by jukeboxtea

Mid is far from a quiet person. But when she’s in battle, she’s deadly silent. (or, a short character study on Midmysticx.)

Wire snare by dogdomesticated

Getting a read on intent. What will kill you first: the toxin or the detonation? A short abstract exploration of Rekrap's character and themes in Lifesteal season 3.

Rollercoaster by Thrills (IWantToRemainASecret)

Branzy compares Clownpierce to a rollercoaster and other shenanigans.

i wouldn't blame you if you turned around by Anonymous

sometimes things don't go the way you want them to. it's a story clown has heard time and time again.

What do you see when you look at the stars? by lovecore_jpg

“..What do you see?” “..What?” Planet paused, a little confused by the question. “Like– when you look out at the stars. What do you.. see? ..Besides stars?” ---------------------- Planet likes to stargaze when everyone else is asleep. This time, somebody joins him.

Olethros by arospecitzsubz (Octaveice)

"Theoretically, the ruin goes before the grace. He'd named his sword for a reason."

Brown Eyes by PacificSeaOtter

Nobody knows what color Clownpierce's eyes are- not until Vitalasy, Subz, and Rek start a bet trying to figure it out. Thus ensues the saga of failed, but hilarious attempts to get Clown's mask off.

and I swear I could slit my throat with your dull knife by Scared_Rodent

Like a frozen lake, Branzy noticed how Ashswag's expressions hardly changed, how nothing he saw surprised him at all. Branzy remembered falling in love, remembering dates by the beach with nothing but his smile. On the deadliest server in the world, Branzy remembered him.

winter in prague; 1618 by whichlights

winter in prague; 1618. tensions are high after the defenestration of multiple catholic officials, and a war will break out not quite two years later. in this time of tensions, a vampire by the name of clownpierce is injured. his friend is there to care for him, at least.

drinks in new york; 1926 by whichlights

drinks in new york; 1926. prohibition has swept across the country, but that doesn't mean the party stops. world class performers, drinks, and more- all at greenwich village, a historical hub of gay activity. clown and redd have holed up in a townhouse in the village, and have been having a wonderful time in new york.

games to play on work break by Felix_J

"A boring place is what it is. Hell." Jaron says, and it might sound a little bitter. Ash gives him a blurry look. "No, why do you look at me like that." They've stopped asking questions, (Jaron knows asking questions is not a good thing, and generally, he doesn't care). "You think, that was such a hot resort, and Satan is the greatest of 'em, you're curious, right."

A man, a squid and a clown walk into an elevator… by Thrills (IWantToRemainASecret)

Branzy is crushing hard on the dutch man he and Chief share their elevator rides with, and he seeks to learn Dutch in order to form a connection with him. Too bad he can speak English. Too bad Chief isn't going to stop Branzy.

Now as the curtains rise up by softnoblade

Maybe next it’ll snow. Maybe the remains of this server will be preserved, frozen under layers and layers of snow and ice. Perhaps, decades from now, some unlucky archaeologist will stumble across the remains of this server, and simultaneously uncover both the preserved remains of war and the immortal beings that had slaughtered them.

def function (singularity): by Anonymous/np13

it's always why did you mess with your player data and you're missing half your data structures and never ‘how was playing with your data. messing with code looked fun was it fun’ (it is, right up until it's not.)

sunsets on powerlines by w_nter

It starts with a broken lightbulb in his hands, or maybe in a forest, or maybe in a cabin tucked deep in the woods. (or: a purpleduo + the darkest minds au)

bona fortuna by sinoptics

The god of chance enjoys a visit to the human realm.

throw a punch by vanivanilla

there’s not much to do in prison, or: planet and jaron have a brief conversation as they reset their hunger

In Moments Alone (In His Office, With Pillows And Tissues) by Clownsplin

Although his outward appearances suggest otherwise, Clownpierce's moments alone are filled with stiff joints, aching muscles, and tear-stained cheeks. He gets small moments throughout the day when his pain lessens, even if by an infinitely small amount.

atlantis by Anonymous

Planet is stuck in a space between life and death, waiting. (A million miles away, Jaron is in the same position. A couple of feet away, Bacon had tried to run. Turns out there's not a lot to do when you can't respawn without being immediately killed)

farewell to the port by Anonymous

The day Branzy becomes a pirate he wakes up on a small island somewhere in the Caribbean, drunk out of his mind and distinctly lacking shoes.  He thinks, somewhat despairingly, that he really should not be gambling again anytime soon.  or, The Golden Age of Piracy, and the situations and decisions that drive people to become outlaws.

lose the battles by Felix_J

"you lost." it states. unless there are any more tricks up planet's sleeve, which there shouldn't be. but planet... is a strange one. "thanks." they say, and that's right, that is a full blown smile. krow still can't figure out exactly how planet's expression works, but this piece shines out, same as his eyes shine. "thank you." planet repeats, like they're not sure krow heard, or do know it can't exactly believe its ears.

Phantom in Your Foyer by arospecitzsubz (Octaveice)

Half the damn crowd had been cheering.

Kiss me in the corridor, but quick to tell me goodbye (You say that you're no good for me) by Mx_Artemis

Ash is no stranger to evil, nor is he a stranger to ClownPierce. Honestly, is it such a crime that he wants to catch up with him?

The immortal and his assassin by Thrills (IWantToRemainASecret)

He opened the door without any theatrics, no slow creak open or dramatic swing wide, he simply opened it like he was an old friend visiting a familiar face. And- Hold up, that is a familiar face. The soon-to-be-dead man was sitting on the edge of his bed, eyes shut as he slowly sipped at his cup of tea. He opened his eyes lazily, half-lidded gaze settling on Clown’s face in a way that made him feel as if he had been drenched in freezing cold water. Because he had killed his man before.

no hard feelings by sinoptics

“Hey, Redd,” Clown starts as he reaches Redd, voice ever so slightly out of breath, and then he pauses awkwardly. “So.” “So?” Redd repeats, confused as to where this is going to go. “Our arrangement is off. From now on.” Clown states. What the fuck.

or; the fic in which Clownpierce fumbles not one but two bad bitches

anything you say can and will be held against you by Felix_J

It's funny to see how Red tries to process the little things and guess if they belong to Ash, or Ash's persona that doesn't differ from him as much as he thinks, or maybe much more so, or just things Ash makes up. Ash likes to add a lot to the last pile. Poke around, like a little challenge, reminder he's not all that easy. Currently, with the fucking fish. roses and smoke week, day 6: aquarium | fantasy

For that star trapped in your chest by dogdomesticated

Thunderclouds. Stuck waiting around for Vitalasy to show up, Subz goes down a line of thinking he's been avoiding, and by then it's too late. Something about trust, something about defining what you can't see. Light, and where to find it.

The Boy and The Forest by BearAndHoney

As the tale goes there is a boy who wants to be king adn loved. And as the tale goes there is a forest full of mysteries that one else has been brave enough to explore.

the fox's young master by Felix_J

He finds a fox in the forest, dark fur-broken leg, and it reminds him, as it always does. He takes it home to fix it up, and it doesn't matter if it's just a mindless creature, if. To pass its time, he tells it a story. roses and smoke week, day 3: myths | gods

foreguess by Felix_J

I'd never go on dates just like that, after being married so long, you know that, Ash? Red'd move his head on the seat, and he wouldn't be able to see his eyes through the sunglasses. What's even the point of that kinda date? He would continue, not really ask, because of course he has to poke and argue, it always goes in a loop. Even though he knows, and he agrees with Ash. Thanks, Red, Ash'd answer and break it, because there'd be something in his stomach that's so soft, there is. roses and smoke week, day 2: swap | horror

predictable shows by Felix_J

"I'm rewatching the footage for the auditions, yeah." Red nods, slack. He considers picking the remote from his hands to push unpause, but doesn't think Ash won't find it a serious offence and make it end up on the floor in a corner at all. or, "one of them is lying" boosfer + swagdoons swap. roses and smoke week, day 2: swap | horror

The Mourner by Anonymous

The mourner stands in the open, partially hidden in the smoke. Holding out a bouquet of roses as they wait for their loved on to return.

Case #091413 - Always Bet On Red by orphan_account

Case #091413 Statement of… Branzy? No last name given apparently, about a relationship of unclear nature with someone only known as “Clown”. Dated September 13th 2014, recorded by Zachery Prince at the Institute Cordum.

little comforts by sinoptics

He turns to Vitalasy then, who’s tending a pot on the stove. “Hey, uh,” He starts, and Vitalasy makes a hum of acknowledgement. “Zam could probably use some affection.”

Mutual Hell by Kappuccinokat

Mapicc exhaled, frustrated, and stood up, walking over to the empty window. Zam tried not to relax too much. “I’m assuming this is hell, then.” He drummed his fingers on the window sill. “That’s what I gathered, yeah.” — Or; Zam had lost it all, and now as he awaits his fate in hell, a familiar face threatens to break his resolve.

Homemade Headache Cures by ros_is_writing

“Vitalasy,” Subz announced. “I can’t fucking see, and it fucking hurts.” He emphasized his point by knocking his head against Vitalasy’s shoulder, the metal of his armor hurt slightly. Vitalasy made another sympathetic noise in the back of his throat and bumped his chin to Subz’s head. Normally their head bumps were comforting to Subz, but now they just made his head hurt worse. Damn these fucking glasses.

Siren's Song by KingdomKey

The Phantoms are a renowned pirate crew who sail the seven seas. Their ship comes across a rocky island, and as they carefully traverse it, they come upon a strange creature. It certainly isn't friendly.

sweet dreams i'll always share with you by Anonymous/cutthesky

Red can transform into a plush version of himself (a big Minidoons). Shenanigans ensue one day as Ash and Red wait to fall asleep.

Cut it Out by Anonymous

He always had Ro and his knife, didn't he?

Lifesteal > Eastside > Create a Posting by bloodynocturne (avoxutopia)

Craigslist has always been an odd place, a collection of people in the same place; selling, buying, searching, looking to give or take something. And sometimes, there's small connections. People searching for each other in a circle, narrowly missing one another every time.

Southbound by ros_is_writing

“We could always use the above ground station,” Planet said in the same tone of voice that they used before. Nonchalant, bored even. Like they hadn’t just suggested an actual crime. “No.” Bacon said immediately. “That’s illegal.” “What’s illegal?” Jaron asked.

Poopies' Fun Day in the Hypixel Pit by rainy_writez

With the end of Lifesteal season 4, Poopies the endermite (who is still here somehow because it defies the mere concept of law) has become restless. So Spoke takes it to the Hypixel Pit for a fun day of incomprehensible violence. Surprisingly, Poopies ends up leaving with a new friend… or maybe more?

losing by B0LTZ

take a breath, spit out the blood in your mouth, and get back up on your feet. you still got a couple of motherfuckers to prove wrong

see with your two eyes by Felix_J

He's not a god, because the flag Red sails under doesn't believe in gods. And then he's wrong. In the reasoning, not the other thing.

carry me to tomorrow by Anonymous

Ash chooses to trust himself to the unwavering night.

mixed media: flesh, electricity, bone by Anonymous

“Do you think we’re friends in other universes too?”

(hello) my old heart by Anonymous

What he doesn’t ask is why Ash chooses, over and over, to step through that door, through Lifesteal and Earthbound and the wastelands of an apocalypse. The void knows how many other worlds they’ve followed each other through without a second thought.

fun activities to do with the person you're stuck under house arrest with by oneirogen

Open heart surgery doesn’t even rank up high in the number of weird shit he’s done on this server. Maybe approaching the top tens, if he's being generous.

smile for the camera (repeat and do it over) by gin (tabanthas)

You’re an ally and an enigma at the best of times. At the worst, you are a challenge. You are never, never a friend. OR: rek and his trust issues &lt;3

divine intervention by Anonymous

"If we went through this all again," he says, and it sounds so far away. "Would we still find each other?" (Less than a metre away, Jaron stares at the sky. To his side, Bacon looks at the rubble by their feet. Even when you know it's coming, the end still feels like a loss you can't prepare for)

a parting of clouds by genesis_frog

What do you say, after all of that? Subz and Zam's first conversation after the sign room.

there will be darkness again by genesis_frog

Zam has been in the Eclipse Federation nearly a month now. Subz is getting more and more obvious by the day. Vitalasy steps in.

let me hold it lightly by genesis_frog

It’s a quiet life, outside the world border, but it’s one Zam and Subz have made for themselves.

to the previous respondee: by orioncataclysmic

IMAGE: more bolded comic sans. This time, it’s held up by washi tape, patterned with dicks. It reads: i like war and death and asthma attacks and if you don’t you’re a bitch and your moms a hoe OR: a battle of wits, told through an apartment corkboard, messages between Zam and Mapicc, and glimpses into Mapicc and Bacon's lives

Steam Heart by enderpearlnecklace

After sneaking onto an airship full of pirates, Branzy tries to find a way to escape.

Dear Diary: Today, I killed someone by Fey_wilde

Squiddo prides herself on her excellent memory. It’s one of her only positive attributes, one she can count on in nearly every situation. In just a blink of the eye, she can recall a story, an adventure. Every single bit of data crams itself into her head, sorting into neat piles, ones she can sift through with speed and efficiency. Mobs, history, abandoned places, extinct worlds, glitches, she knows them all. Her memory never fails. Yet, no matter how hard she tries, no matter how many hours she spends lying awake, unseeing eyes staring at the ceiling of her makeshift base, she just can’t remember why. Why did I join Lifesteal?

New Years Eve by Nox_aMillion

Going to the roof was a tradition the two of them had for New Years because apparently they liked extreme parkour off a roof while fireworks actively went off. Or the privacy was nice. Something like that.

Halloween Night by Nox_aMillion

Honestly they had done everything else there was to do on Halloween at this point. They were even dressed in repeat costumes, Red as a demon and Ash as a vampire. (Yes they could be more creative but any costume was a costume.) The two had been coming back from a fear farm when Red mentioned that there was a party at this house tonight. It was nearly two in the morning by the time they got here but the party was still going strong. Parties in houses like this didn’t end until the police got there.

[feartoxinjelloshot]

honestly i am not a fan of how this drawing turned out BUT i did invest some time into it so i would be amiss not to post it for posterity if nothing else.

context:

so, i spent a long time ruminating on what to do with the league of assassins in my au. obviously, a lot of the canon material concerning it is staggeringly racist, not to mention just kind of stupid overall, so i knew that i wanted most of it to go out the window off the bat. at the same time there were certain aspects of it that i knew i wanted to retain - the immortality, the lazarus pits, talia's original antihero stuff, damian being a weird little knife child, etc - so eventually i decided that the "league of assassins" as it were doesn't really exist; ra's has simply operated im plain view for long enough that people who were paying enough attention went "hey, what the hell, he has a guy lined up for everything, surely he's running some kind of secret evil shadow organization?" he's not. he's really not. he's just been alive long enough that he has a lot of personal favors owed to him at this point. his actual "organization" is like, at maximum three people who owe him life debts at any given time. he's also not really evil per say. he's just really weird.

what ra's is actually doing (amidst some good old garden variety ecoterrorism - if ivy can do it so can he, and it was a core aspect of his motivation for several decades) is acting upon the pathological obsession he has with the lazarus pits. the lazarus pits in my au are a mix of the birth of the demon and BTAS lore surrounding them: they are natural deposits that must be manually dug out from underground wellsprings to be used, but they are also deeply connected to earthly magnetism and can be located via complex leylines and other ambiguously supernatural means. ra's, from his first discovery of them, has been dedicated to obsessively cataloguing and "deciphering" what he perceives to be the grand mystery of the natural world we live in, and that once he "solves" it, he can show the truth to others and the planet will be transformed into a paradise. (you may note this is not dissimilar to the riddler's pathos concerning patterns - more on that point later probably). this also has ties to his mortal occupation as a physician. he has a strong lingering investment in finding new ways to cure ills, and sees death as the ultimate ill, and therefore he wants to find a way to universally cure death.

now, a lot of this is directly informed by his backstory from birth of the demon, which happens to also contain the sole appearance of the other character in this image, Huwe (we aren't given another name for him to my memory, so i'm forced to assume that's his only one). huwe was an enemy-turned-ally of ra's who eventually became immortal alongside him up until the mid 1800(???)s, where they had a fight that ended in ra's killing huwe by stabbing him with a fire poker. i thought the dynamic between them was really interesting and underutilized in that comic so i decided to bring it back - it goes pretty differently in my au but i have not worked out the specifics to any degree of clarity yet so i will leave that for another post.

there is also more going on with talia and damian in this au, but this is getting long and they aren't even in this post so ill give the cliffnotes version: talia was raised to be more or less a 'warden' of the lazarus pits and she is immortal like ra's, albeit much younger chronologically. she has a vested desire to lead a "normal" life and live and die as a mortal. after having damian, who is ostensibly supposed to be her successor, she sends him away to live with bruce as a form of achieving her dream vicariously through him - as long as he remains mortal and lives as he wishes to, away from the inherited responsibility of the pits, she can bear the weight of it knowing he's out there somewhere. ra's's side of this is a whole other thing about immortal loneliness and his family being the only ones who he can relate to at all after all that he's done and a weird amount of parallels to the joker of all people but this is getting WAY TOO LONG.

TL;DR ra's (long hair) is a strange immortal doctor and the other guy is huwe, his totally-not-gay-and-also-immortal friend.

[redgoldsparks]

December 2023 Reading and Reviews by Maia Kobabe

I post my reviews throughout the month on Storygraph and Goodreads, and do roundups here and on patreon. Reviews below the cut.

The Priory of the Orange Tree by Samantha Shannon 

Despite how much promise there is in the premise of this novel I was ultimately fairly disappointed by it. I'll start with the positives: it's set in a diverse and creative fantasy world with multiple different countries and cultures. It has several queer characters, including one of the four POV characters. It has dragons, even though I think they were severely under-utilized. It is also far too long, and astonishingly, nearly every scene in the book felt rushed. I think it actually had too much plot; if I had been editing this book I would have suggested the author cut one of the POV characters and use the freed-up space to flesh out the queer love story, which was the emotional heart of the book. This book is marketed as adult fantasy, yet whenever a character is in serious danger they are nearly always rescued by a talking animal with super-speed abilities. Choices like this book made the book read younger than I expected. It also suffered, perhaps unfairly, due to the fact I read a book with a much smarter and more interesting use of dragons, human/dragon cultural tensions, and dragon politics earlier this year: Seraphina by Rachel Hartman, which I would recommend over Priory any day of the week.

Red Paint: The Ancestral Autobiography of a Coast Salish Punk by Sasha taqʷšəblu LaPointe

Sasha taqwšəblu LaPointe is a Coast Salish poet and punk who digs deep into the lineage of women in her family searching for connection, strength, and healing. While writing a Master's thesis, LaPointe opened the door to memories of a childhood sexual assault, precarious runaway teen years, and the intergenerational trauma that affected all of her family after the colonization of the Pacific Northwest. The memories that surfaced shattered her life. The path to picking up the pieces was slow, and involved traditional healing ceremonies, friendship, writing, music, and multiple journeys to places where her female ancestors once lived. I found this book very quick and easy to read despite the often heavy subject matter (it also includes a divorce and a miscarriage). Some passages are quite beautiful, but the author was an emotional mess for most of the time period she recounts and behaved in some questionable ways towards many of those around her. It ends on a hopeful note, and I would recommend it, especially to people with connections to the PNW area, while keeping the content warnings in mind.

Golden Fool by Robin Hobb read by Nick Taylor 

I hardly even know how to talk about this book because I loved it so much. It's a rich, nuanced, painfully human follow up to the earlier Farseer trilogy. I am amazed at how deftly Hobb wove the narratives of her characters across three decades of their lives and counting. There's Fitz, the royal bastard and reluctant assassin, who we first met at age six. Now in his mid-thirties, he is finally exploring his magical talents, teaching, learning, and taking more and more misfit young people under his wing. There's Chade, who we first met at a mysterious and wise teacher- now he's a royal advisor, and his hunger for power and influence might yet take him down a very dark path. There's Kettricken, who as a teenage princess was engaged to a stranger, now grown into a powerful queen bent on changing her kingdom for the better. There's the Fool, whose multiple identities are threatening to collapse as more and more of his prophesies come true. And Burrich, Fitz's adopted father figure, who in his anger and grief disowns a son who reminds him too much of his past. All of these characters feel so deeply rooted in their own histories, traumas, choices; I care so deeply about their lives and see so clearly how the twists of fate led them to where they are now. This is seriously one of the best fantasy series I have ever read, and I highly recommend anyone who loves long form fantasy to go back and pick up book one, Assassin's Apprentice.

The Well by Jacob Wyatt and Choo

Lizzy lives with her grandfather on one of many small islands in an world plagued by mist and monsters. Her mother, father, and grandmother all died fighting against the leviathan that used to threaten the seas between the islands; Lizzy has heard the stories, but never knew any of them. Her daily concerns are with goats, the market where she sells their cheese and milk, and her crush on a girl who works the island ferry. Magic doesn't regularly touch her life, except when she foolishly steals three coins from a wishing well, and is then tasked with completing the three wishes that are bound to them. This story has much the feel of a fairy tale with it's orphaned protagonist, three wishes, three tasks, and characters who are often more archetype than fleshed out people. But it manages a sweetly emotional ending and simple but lively and effective illustrations.

The Secret Lives of Country Gentlemen by KJ Charles read by Martyn Swain

Set in England during the reign of King George the third, this historical romance delivered a satisfying amount of plot along with the spice. Gareth is the son of a Baronet, but grew up with none of the privilege of that position having been send away from home after the death of his mother during his childhood. He works as a law clerk in London with few connections, no friends, and nothing much to recommend him. He seeks companionship at a tavern that turns a blind eye on the illicit sexual activities of men in the upper rooms. There he meets Kent, a working class man from Romney Marsh, with whom Gareth sparks an intense and intimate connection. Then it falls apart. Gareth is sacked from his job. He fights with Kent. His father dies unexpectedly, and Gareth is summoned to a manor house he hasn't seen in years to take on the responsibilities of a title, including the care of a teenage half-sister and his father's mistress. And by chance, the house Gareth inherits is in Romney Marsh, home of many waterways, pastures, smugglers, and also Kent, his former lover. I enjoyed the dynamic between the two romantic leads, and the crime plot which entangled both of them. If you are interested in R-rated M/M romance with action adventure and danger, I'd definitely recommend this series and also KJ Charles' Will Darling series.

Subtle Blood by KJ Charles read by read by Cornell Collins

A very satisfying installment in the Will Darling adventures! If this is the final book, I am happy with where it's left the characters, but it does also leave the door open for more. If you enjoy spicy M/M romance with a hefty side of action/adventure, this is a great series. It kept me company through a week of holiday cleaning, cooking, and baking, and I think it's my favorite yet from the series.

Death Strikes: The Emperor of Atlantis by Dave Maass & Patrick Lay

This comic is grim, funny, gory, and darkly poetic. It's impossible to read it without an awareness of the history of the script, which is based on a suppressed opera written in 1943 two prisoners at the Terezín concentration camp in Czechoslovakia. The authors did not live to see their play performed. Maass and Lay have done an impressive job transferring a story meant for the stage into a comic. The stars of the show are the characters of Life and Death who narrative and frame the story of a paranoid dictator in the fictional nation of Atlantis and his reign of terror against his own citizens.

The Cliff by Manon Debaye

This was beautifully illustrated but too sad and violent for me to enjoy reading. It's the story of a dysfunctional middle school friendship between two unhappy girls who make a suicide pact. This story will really hit for some readers but it wasn't for me.

Walkaway by Cory Doctorow 

I really enjoyed this book, even thought I think it's more interesting as a collection of ideas than as a novel. The characters in the first third felt somewhat flat, and the dialog is often delivered in hefty paragraphs with minimal dialog tags. But the story picks up in the second half and by the end I was reading it daily in big chunks. The concepts this book explores are what really shine, especially the idea of walking away from capitalist society and living in self-sustaining communities without formal governments or laws. This novel contains some future technology which we don't currently have today including 3D printers which can print food, clothing, and building pieces for vehicles and housing and also internet interfaces implanted into people's bodies which allow them global network access from anywhere almost all the time. The nation state of Canada also seems to have fallen before the start of this novel, as most of the characters end up walking away from the US into northern Canada to find these alternate communities. I liked seeing Doctorow play out the clash between on faction wanting to run a group house as a meritocracy versus another group committed to allowing all members to work as much or little as they want to or can, for example. The book does not shy away from showing the violent crack down of the existing governments on these alternate communities. There are major character deaths. But the other big theme of the book is exploring the digital scanning and uploading of human consciousnesses to the web allowed people to walk away from death.

[pyxes]

BUCKLE UP FEW FOLLOWERS/MUTUALS WHO INTERACT WITH MY POST... because right now is a good time for me to tell you all the tale of Idaho’s cannibalism law and the still very much relevant christian-fascist fear of anything that goes outside their bubble.

Idaho House code 18-5003 is perhaps my favorite part of history because it’s one of the most unknown but most jarring example of moral panic and is comparable to what we see today with Q-Anon, MAGA, and even general republican politics. I am going to try to keep this as short as possible but that might be a hard for me (post writing warning this is like...super long but also super cool and interesting). Like I said, I am completely entrenched in this part of history so I may go off rail a couple times.

To preface, Idaho is the only state in the union that explicitly has a law outlawing cannibalism. There is nothing like it in any other state which, when hearing this, people are generally shocked. The law states:

18-5003.  CANNIBALISM DEFINED — PUNISHMENT. (1) Any person who wilfully [sic] ingests the flesh or blood of a human being is guilty of cannibalism. 

(2)  It shall be an affirmative defense to a violation of the provisions of this section that the action was taken under extreme life-threatening conditions as the only apparent means of survival. 

(3)  Cannibalism is punishable by imprisonment in the state prison not exceeding fourteen (14) years.

One would expect this to be cause by some crazed cannibalistic maniac but no. In 1990, it was caused by an orchestrated nationwide fear that “satanist” (use context clues on who was labeled as such) would kidnap children-specifically white, Protestant, blue eyed, blonde hair, girls-who would then be sacrificed. We know this now as a product of the Satanic Panic of the 80's-90's. But where does the Satanic Panic and fear for our little Suzy’s life come from????

Well with all terrible things in contemporary American history the vast majority of this goes back to gross, disgusting, turkey-neck Reagan. I know. Yuck. Don’t have to tell me twice. But to understand more we have to go back a little further to the Vietnam Era and the Jesus Freak Movement.

The fundamental idea of the Jesus Freak Movement was to break away from the period typical charismatic Protestantism. The "Freaks" were generally peaceful but a few bad seeds lit the fuse for what would become the early aughts of the Satanic Panic. Two of the most notable are The Manson Family and Jim Jones' Jonestown, both of which used New-Age Christianity to further their dark self-fulfilling prophecies. Because of this, anti-cult organizations began to form and would label anyone with differing opinions from, again, charismatic-fundi Protestantism, as "devil worshippers". These organizations really did nothing to help victims, nor did they care, they only served a purpose to yap and uphold Christian Morality.

Okay, so with that out of the way, it's time to talk about the man who unfortunately survived a gunshot, Ronald Reagan. Even with the recent assassination attempt, Reagan was dropping in the 1882 mid-term polls. He was not a good man but he was a good grifter, like what we have currently been witnessing with Donald Trump. Seeing that he needed to align with something he sought refuge in the growing Religious Right movement, even though he was the first president to not attend church while in the whitehouse. His “griftey-ness” seemed genuine to some, especially Protestant Evangelical America. This is because of three calculated speeches at the National Religious Broadcast, the National Prayer Breakfast, and the National Association of American Evangelicals. These speeches would regain confidence in Reagan and would give way to a new political group to rise, the Moral Majority.  

After this alignment with the Religious Right, Reagan was to the average American W.A.S.P (White, Anglo-Saxon, Protestant) as John F. Kenndey was to the average Irish American Catholic. And if you have ever met and old Irish Catholic lady, you know they SALIVATED at the meer image of sexy John EVEN before he was president. Before Reagan, the Moral Majority was a right-wing movement whose relevance could be compared to a child putting their fingers in their ears and going “la-la-la”. The movement was founded by known anti-semite, Teletubby hating, sexual abuse defending, televangelist, Jerry Laymon Falwell Sr in the late 1970's. The Moral Majority was a loud but ignored group until Falwell’s association with Ronald Reagan. 

Falwell saw how moldable Reagan was and would personally invite him to speak at the National Religious Broadcaster Conference of 1982 previously discussed. He would use Ronald Reagan as a tool to further legislation that made his world more comfortable for him. SOUND FAMILIAR???? The moral majority had one mission and that was to create a ginormous red voting block that upheld conservative Christian ideals. These ideals really have not changed much from today with them focusing on a “traditional”, nuclear, bible abiding family. Traditional meaning strict heterosexual gender roles with males at the helm that we all know and are disturbed by.

One aspect of the Falwell’s Protestant Christianity, also referred to as charismatic Protestantism, is the idea of eschatology. While yes, all Abrahamic religions believe in eschatology, Falwell’s version was much more extreme. Instead of pondering of what happens with one's soul after they die, Charismatic Christianity cranks an imaginary biblical dial up to its max setting. Anyone who did not follow their beliefs were sinners and were bound to go to hell. It was, and still is, quite easy to be persuaded by the Devil, some examples include being gay, trans, Jewish, Muslim, a democrat, not want children, not tithing, playing Dungeons and Dragons, wearing pants if you are a woman, listen to secular music, breathe wrong... the list goes on. All things that deviated from the views of the growing Moral Majority turned into a calculated tabloid sensation that created a real time imaginary world that only served to push their political agenda.

Many of the tabloids were orchestrated in a way that disrupted the white suburban lifestyle institutionalized by the “White flight” of the 1960’s. A good chunk of these rumors was formulated via fear to persuade blue collar workers of the growing divide between them and those who wish to push a liberal agenda. The component of Protestant blue collar workers is important because it is distortional composed of economically stressed people who still held on to traditional American cultural values which affirmed the theology of the Moral Majority. This is still relevant today, I mean look at the voting stats in this years election. Or I don't know listen to you weird uncle who gets his checks garnished talk about how he voted for trump because of "taxes".

There are more blue-collar workers in the nation than televangelist, but the televangelist still persuaded the working class with the teachings of the prosperity gospel because that is the goal of their game. Fear provokes rumors and that was the plan to control the general population at the time. Rumors are created to both satisfy the need to reduce uncertainty and provoke more anxiety. It did not help that at the core of these rumors all held shared beliefs between thousands of people who share the stress of demoralization fronted by Satan.

Besides the views held by the religious right, a book would come out in 1980 that would confirm all the mass rumors surrounding satanic ritual abuse. Now discredited and laughed at, Michelle Remembers is the book that conservative America needed in terms of mass satanic cult confirmation bias. The book was written by “recovered-memory” therapist Lawrence Pazder and details the not-so-true story of his patient and later wife, Michelle Smith. Although the Health Insurance Portability and Accountability Act was not around at the time the book is straight HIPAA violation after violation. The book is filled with Smith’s accounts of being tortured, sexually abused, and witnessing human sacrifices that she was sometimes forced to be a part of. One of the books many covers plays into the fear of the kidnapped blond-hair blue-eyed child previously discussed, the child is holding a doll surrounded by candles with the eyes of an evil satanist looking down at her ready to sacrifice and consumer her at any given moment. 

Smith’s story set shockwaves and inspired another “victim” of satanic ritual abuse to come forward named Laurel Rose Wilson with her book Satan’s Underground. The two would go on and appear on the Oprah Winfrey show and speak their “truth” and have it confirmed on nationally syndicated television furthering the fears of many. Although both books have been disproven and scrutinized by investigators both books sent a shockwave throughout the globe, with Michelle Remembers being known as the “whistle-blower” book. One of my favorite reviews regarding the book is “Five Baphomet pentagrams for originality and five more for hilarity.” Looking through the lens of today it is easy to call out the embellishments and laugh at Smith and Pazder’s elaborate trolling, but back then this book was truly groundbreaking and instilled more fears in Christian America. DOES THIS SOUND FAMILIAR ARE WE MAKING CONNECTIONS YET! I mean think of all the brain dead idiots on youtube still claiming to be a victim of satanic ritual abuse.

At this point the Satanic panic has surpassed cult rumors and became a real threat to once secure neighborhoods. Parents began to fear for their children's safety when sending them to school, nowhere was safe from the evil grasp of Satanist. One event regarding this would be a product of the rumors and be the catalyst that ceased the Satanic Panic of the 80’s and 90’s. This event is known as the McMartin Preschool Trials which would later become the longest and most expensive series of criminal trials in American history. The story of the trail starts with Judy Johnson claiming her son was sexually molested by McMartin Preschool employee Ray Buckey. Ray Buckey was soon arrested, and a letter was sent out to the about 200 parents who sent their children to the preschool detailing the alleged acts perpetrated by Buckey.

Quickly receiving this letter, the number of children abused by Buckey reached 360. During the investigation claims were getting muddy with Buckey having an array of costumes, branding children, creating child sexual abuse material and dispersing it to others, slaughtering animals, and any other satanic ritual abuse activity. Buckey was not the only one charged in the case, his mother, sister, as well as several other employees were charged with the same counts as well. All together they had 208 counts of abuse that were a product of cult practices. There were even claims of underground tunnels made to traffic children. Eventually it would come out the children were being coached by investigators to make false claims in regard to what happened at the preschool. In the end all charges but 12 were dropped and the preschool was demolished which can serve as a metaphor for the panic in general. Something created out of falsehoods only to be destroyed by factual evidence based. 

Do I believe the Buckey and others involved were abusing children in the name of Satanic Ritual Abuse? No. But I do believe that something must have happened for a child to recount what happened, persuaded by investigators or not. What could have happened to spark such controversy could take the form of many types of abuse, it does not always need to be sexual abuse is abuse. One thing about children is that while yes, they have very active imaginations they also lack awareness of what being abused is like unless they suffered. It is not a concept they are born with so it should be a red flag to an adult when a child says something relating to being abused. Instead of focusing on the real issue of the claims being made, the parents of McMartin Preschool could not face the reality of abuse being perpetrated by a non-Satanic cult affiliated person with bad intentions. I think the idea of parents automatically blaming Satanic ritual abuse is, well to be frank, disgusting. It takes away from the reality of the situation and gives backswords credence to abuse happening inside their bubble. 

That is where the crux of this super mega long text post lies. People have always refused to acknowledge reality outside of their safety nets. When the reality of their constructed world is broken there is no other way to explain it other than fiction with the intent to blame everyone but themselves. Reading this you can not help but make comparisons to today, most notably with that of Q-Anon and Charismatic Fundamentalist. It feels like every week Q-Anon comes up with a new child-trafficking conspiracy like Pizza-gate/Wayfair-gate, turning Jill Biden's panda costume into some symbol of child abuse, thinking a trans predator is awaiting in every women's bathroom, creating child victims with drag queen story time, etc, all while turning a man (Donald Trump) into a god who has been charged numerous times with abuse of a minor along with his sex-trafficker friend (Jeffery Epstein) who certainly did not kill himself.

These hypocrites all preach the same ideas as Falwell and his Moral Majority constituents: that all those who do not follow their path are monsters out to abuse children, when in reality they do not care about the abuse of children. The state of Idaho does not care about children and is actively pushing legislation to make the lives of women and children more difficult every day. Long before the overturning of Roe v Wade, Idaho governor, chud Brad Little supported sentencing women to death for getting an abortion. Shortly after Roe v Wade was overturned, Idaho immediately put an abortion ban in place, making sure to sign “abortion trafficking” laws that would prosecute anyone who crosses state lines and then followed that by eliminating Idaho’s committee dedicated maternal deaths. Eliminating a committee who’s sole purpose was to understand maternal deaths all while OBGYN’s flee the state the to follow that up by cutting $38 million in state funds dedicated to preventing child abuse while also repeatedly killing bills that would put an end to child marriages in a state with one of the highest rates proves the Brad Little and his cronies do not give a single shit about kids. This obviously is not just an Idaho thing but this is a growing trend across the nation. They only care about ownership. They only care about furthering an agenda to keep their world theirs. Thus, they orchestrate lies to control the masses while they themselves turn them into truth. 

For the few who read this I hope you are now informed and also enjoyed this little history lesson that is doomed to repeat itself. We are all aware of the signs of what is to come but stay strong and do not fall into it. They want you to. Be vigilant and be informed.

[sincerely-sofie]

Have you ever wanted to draw something but you fought due to your skill level at the time you decide not to do it

Ohhh man. I’ve got so many projects that I want to make but haven’t because I view my current skill set as lacking— and they’re almost always drawing related, because I’m very insecure about my drawing skills— even moreso than my writing skills. To go on a tangent and paint a picture of how severe this visual art insecurity is, I will list off how many people I have directly permitted to read my major written pieces once I passed my mid-teens:

My older sister, because she was my co-writer for the project and not letting her read my work wasn’t an option

My mother on one occasion

My aunt, who has experience with writing and publishing, and I have only ever sent two pieces to

Look at that number of people. The number of pieces I shared with them, in total, was four out of the hundreds of projects I’ve made over the years. I was so precious about my writing because I’m insecure about it. I’m even more insecure about my art. I couldn’t list off all the drawing projects I hesitate to make because I think it’s impossible with my current skill level, not even in a thousand years, but I’ll give a few examples that are always in the back of my mind lately.

A semi-animated pilot to a fantasy-comedy cartoon parodying The Office, starring a goblin secretary who’s trying to assassinate her employer and take over as the final boss of an RPG-esque dungeon that operates like an office building, while her employer is a lich who misinterprets all her efforts to kill him as her being flirty, leading him to develop a very severe crush on the goblin. The project is titled “Boss Fight”, and I have all the resources I need to make it, but I drag my feet because of my art insecurity… also I would be doing all the voice acting myself, and I don’t find my voice very appealing even when I change it to fit different characters.

A webcomic about a fantasy world populated by bipedal bug people that features a very brief “save the world” plot, then focuses the rest of the storyline on how the characters recover from the events of their backstories and the trauma the experienced while saving the world. It’s titled “The Creeping Chronicles”, and I love the project but am so insecure about being able to do the story justice with my art skills that I’ve tentatively pivoted to making it a book series instead. It’s got 21k+ words across 10-ish chapters because I’m too insecure about my art to draw it fully.

A slice of life comic titled “Welcome to Wayside” that’s basically Gravity Falls meets Stardew Valley where a young girl saves a cryptid’s life and now he’s stuck helping her until he repays the life debt he owes. The story features a vaguely men in black-style evil secret agency called G.L.O.O.M. (Gents for Ludicrous Oddity Organization and Management) who have various ranks are named after facets of fashion (khakis are their grunt labor and pocket squares are researchers) and they use a threat-ranking system based on dress codes (i.e. “WE HAVE A BLACK TIE DOWN ON SOUTH STREET, REPEAT: BLACK TIE DOWN ON SOUTH STREET”), and I adored G.L.O.O.M. along with the cast of characters featured in the story, but I don’t feel confident in my ability to design interesting-looking original cryptids.

I could leave this post at that, but I’ve got an important thing to say on this subject—

If you want to make something but are hesitating to because your skill levels are lackluster, make it anyways.

Doubt kills more dreams than failure ever can. Let yourself make the thing, and let yourself make the thing badly. Love it and how ugly it is. The perspective is all askew in this part, and that character is horribly off model there, and isn’t it all amazing? You made that! You made a thing! And you wouldn’t have this thing that you made if you waited until the conditions were perfect to make it and refused to create the thing before your skills were sufficient.

There’s this terrible thing about creative projects— one that is very noticeable in drawing projects especially, in my experience. As your artistic skills develop, your artistic vision also develops to become more and more detailed and masterful… and it’s always going to be outside of your grasp. If you wait until you’re ready to make the thing, you will never make the thing, because you’ll never feel ready no matter how much you build your skills. But if you make the thing before you feel totally prepared, you’ll learn and grow artistically as well as personally, and will be able to feel more confident in future thing-making efforts.

[gingerlurk]

Lovers' Crest | Chapter 18: The Assassin

Din Djarin x f!Reader

Masterlist

As the eve of battle approaches, strange alliances are formed and you acquire something new.

Word count: 2.8k

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, slow burn, non-canon (the Razor Crest never gets destroyed, it also gets upgraded with a cabin), post season 3, canon characters present, ANGST, I'm sorry, yearning, feelings of jealousy, Din speaks!

A/N: A short chapter. The next one is a biggun though. Thanks for reading!

--

Crawling across this coarse sand is something you could do without, but hell if you would dare refuse the Armourer her various missions and requests.

Shoving one elbow over the other, you scoot up until you can peer over the bluff. You spot them. A helmed figure all in black, belly down and training a hyper powered scope across the encampment’s lines.

A fucking sniper? You don’t pause, but shimmy across the edge and rustle toward the threat. When you come to be directly above them, you contemplate your move. Cock this up and they could get a shot off, and you have no idea what they might be aiming at. The action you decide to go with is risky but you don’t think you can get them away from the rifle by any other means. 

So without thinking about it too much more, you grip a chunk of rock for purchase and leap down, landing with feet on either side of their knees. You lock your own to their ribs. Lunging forward and hooking your arms under each armpit, you jerk them bodily sideways, lifting them off the weapon and taking you both into a dusty tumble.

You’re about to get them pinned down when the sniper breaks your knee lock with an athletic flip. You give a cry of alarm as you’re hurled upside down for a second before being dumped on the ground at your opponent’s head, who twists around and goes to reciprocate your attack with an elbow hold. You slip the move and once again try to get your knees in to pin them.

The two of you struggle in the dirt, neither one getting an upper hand.

You jam rigid fingers into a shoulder joint, then try to get the arm secured behind them. They grunt but manage to convert your grip on you and your upper arm is being painfully held in a vice-like lock. Your unbound arm braces to throw this assailant off of you. Fuck this, you think, time for--

‘Fennec! Stand down!’ His command freezes you both mid-grapple. You look over your shoulder and see him standing on the ridge above you. Your heart stutters. ‘She��s not—’ Din calls, hesitates and sighs. He waves toward you, ‘She’s an ally of… of the Armourer.’

The grip on your bicep releases and you drop your hands, trying to scramble to stand with as much dignity as possible. Your opponent hadn’t managed to land any serious blows, but the wind’s been knocked right out of you anyway. You work to not collapse. The first time you’ve heard his voice in months and… She’s an ally… of the Armourer.  

‘Sorry about that,’ the person next to you – Fennec – turns to collect her rifle. You take the beat it affords to huff deep breathes and plant your hands on your knees for a second, straightening before she turns back. ‘Didn’t realise there was another body in play. Din Djarin has asked me to scope the perimeter, watch for scouts.’ She stands squarely in front of you, offers a hand. ‘Fennec Shand.’

You take her forearm in a shake, give your name. ‘Same here. I mean, neither did I. And I am, an ally I mean. Am out on business for the Armourer right now actually…’ You’re babbling. You glance back up to the ridge – Din hasn’t made any moves to approach the two of you. ‘Seems like we need to improve our lines of communication,’ you say loudly, watching him.

‘Mm,’ Fennec says. You look back to her. She pulls off her helmet and you take in the dark features and stern expression of the only other human face you’ve seen in weeks. ‘What business?’

‘Uh, also… looking and… s- scouting…’ you say lamely. 

She lifts her chin at you, assessing. Then, ‘Well we can divide territory, cover more ground? Does that sound good?’

You nod, gaining some composure. ‘Sounds good. I’m most familiar with the chordal coast and the eastern plane.’

‘Good,’ she says. ‘I’ll take the rest. Watch your back.’ She pivots 180 and strides off.

Standing alone again, you look back to the ridge. Din is gone.

They gather around the table dancing with data and shifting troop positions. The air is stuffy and the room dim, a crack in the rock above letting in a single shard of white light in which specks of dust swim back and forth.

You take a deep breath, willing your nerves and doubts to the side before explaining how the gigantic imperial walker is going to help your side’s battle efforts.

‘It’s too powerful and too valuable to just destroy outright,’ you’re saying, taking in the deeply engaged helms of almost everyone in the place. The only one not looking at you head on is the only one you want to see. Din’s head is twisted to the side, as is his body. Your understanding was that Ari Wren had summoned everyone here specifically, key personnel in the approaching fight. 

So he’s here. In the same space as you for the first time in weeks and denying you any attention as you describe how you’ll risk your life to defend his clan.

‘I’ll need a partner,’ you say, trying so hard not to look at him. ‘Someone who can get me up there and be able to manoeuvre around the undercarriage.’

You’re floored to see several hands raised. Numerous Mandalorians stepping up to work with you.

Not Din though, whose shoulders hunch and put a deep wall between you.

‘I will take you,’ Wren says with finality. ‘You will stick close by me in the battle and we will action your plan when it is here-’ she indicates a point on the map.

‘Oh-okay,’ you murmur. ‘It’s a plan.’

It’s all nods and affirmative gestures around the table. You move on to point out some spots where you’ll prepare mines to lay down on the perimeter, get assigned a few individuals to accompany you. Eventually you peter out and go quiet.

‘Anything else?’ Wren asks. You shake your head. ‘Good. Report to the armoury for equipment assignment. If you need training, let me know.’

Dismissed, you start to move out of the room.

‘Din Djarin,’ Wren says behind you, just as you’re moving out of earshot. ‘Will you take everyone else through the troop formations you and I have been discussing?’

Some sharp pang spurs your footsteps on and you hear nothing more. Nope, don’t think about it, you urge yourself as you stalk toward the assigned location. Do. Not. Think. About. It.

You think about it the whole way. It’s only when you emerge into the armoury, which bristles with stacks on stacks of a dazzling array of tools to kill, that your mind finally goes blank. You freeze in your tracks and wonder what the fuck to do.

Then you spot her.

Fennec Shand is standing by a rack of increasingly elaborate looking long rifles, holding one to an eye and observing the trigger action. She seems totally engrossed and like she hasn’t noticed you bumble in. But then she speaks up.

‘I’ve been waiting for you,’ she calls across the space, in a voice so assured your feet start moving before your thoughts do. She puts down the sniper rifle. ‘I have something you may be interested in.’

You stay mute, come to stand with an awkward swinging of hands just shy of her. She eyes you over, toe to head, peers at you with curiosity. 

‘Are you trained in any staff or pole-based combat?’ she asks. The question is so left field, words stick in your throat for a moment. 

But you mentally shake yourself and answer. ‘Uh, s- some, yeah,’ you stutter. ‘Some staff techniques. But, uh, it’s just been awhile. I’m more used to just hand-to-hand…’

‘Mm,’ she replies. ‘Double-headed techniques?’

‘Uh, sure…’ What--?

She spins on the spot and heads down a row of weaponry, gesturing at you to follow.

From a small bank of two-handed weapons, she lifts a mean-as-hell looking gaffi stick. A long, thick staff. One end curves to hold a vicious spiked bludgeon; the other is fashioned into a winged barb. It has a blooded and intimidating conveyance of murder. Shand holds it out to you.

‘Think you can fight with this?’ she says.

‘Where did--?’

‘Donated to the cause,’ she says, shrugs. ‘By a friend.’

Okay, fine…

You step forward and hold out your hands. She draws the weapon level and drops it into your palms. You’re so grateful you don’t fumble or struggle with it – it lands heavy but with a balance that spurs your reflexes to give it a half twirl and bring it aligned with your body. It’s a good height, hefty but ergonomic.

‘Thought you could make use of it,’ Fennec says, a wry smile.

‘Sure,’ you say, yet again. ‘With some practice.’

She nods in appreciation, like she was hoping you’d say exactly that.

‘Then come with me.’

She grabs a smaller, chunkier pole and leads you to the opposite end of the armoury, which you’re amazed to see opens into a sizable training ground.

It’s not surprising you’ve not been back here. Though you’d been permitted some liberties in this place, you’re well aware certain things have been off-limits. Apparently not anymore.

Fennec strides to a spot that allows plenty of room to move and then settles into a readying stance, raising only an eyebrow.

After a beat of hesitation, then one more just for the embarrassment, you manage a cooling breath in, then out, and move into a wary circle with her. 

She reads your face, moves when you move. You draw the savage pole around to hold one end tightly in a fist and slant the rest across a raised elbow.

Unsure how to start, you try a basic cross swing, meeting her parry and converting the movement into a pitch downwards. The edge just glides over her forearm as she twists away.

‘Good!’ she says.

Another motion, you tap the bashing end on the ground and with the momentum make to sweep her legs with it. She backflips over your pull but, as she’s righting herself, the winged end is coming down across the back of her neck. She senses it, twists at the waist and brings her small staff up to block and shove it away. 

After a few more moves you step back, huffing a little.

‘You’re quick,’ you say. 

‘That’s fortunate,’ she replies. ‘You’re a natural with that.’

The smile slips onto your face before you even think about, the usual twinge of sadness that bites at your every emotion scarcely present for a moment. It is genuine and glad for the first time in… gods, how long? Not since…

The sound of heavy footsteps startles you as someone strides into the arena. As the new arrival moves closer, your expression turns to wide-eyed apprehension. You think you recognise that even, sure gait.

You turn and your anxiety is confirmed when Ari Wren comes to stand a few metres away holding weapons of her own - a long blade and an ornate shield. Fennec nods in greeting and you stand there like a lemon, gripping your stick and fidgeting with it. 

‘Ah, good,’ she says by way of hello. ‘Shand thought you may be a good hand with that item.’

Ah fuck she’s talking to you, you think. Say something now, please.

‘I appreciate the… allowance,’ you say. That sounded… okay?

She just nods.

‘Do not let me interrupt,’ she continues. ‘I have practice of my own to do. I will not take up much space.’

Fennec tips her head, ‘Alone today?’

‘Indeed.'

'Your usual sparring partner not joining you?'

Wren shakes her head. 'He was. But Din Djarin seemed to have other duties to attend to on this occasion.’

Your lead weight of a heart drops into your stomach, cold and nauseating. Willing the treacherous thing back into your chest, you turn to Fennec and make a motion to continue; she doesn’t make you hover and readies once again.

As you move and twist and test the scope of the weapon, you take sparing glances at Wren, who is making a ceremony of various battle stances. Broad and strong, and so sure with the blade and shield, she’s impressive.

There’s more important things you should be considering right now, you know this. Like how Fennec Shand, decidedly not Mandalorian, can just be here, handling their weapons and wandering the Covert like a family member. Like what the Armourer had said to you about ‘things having changed here’. 

Like why you’ve committed yourself to such risky and dangerous plans in order to take part in this looming battle.  

But all you can think about is what Ari Wren is to Din.

Before you can even contemplate stopping yourself, you’re asking questions.

‘So, uh, Wren…’ you start, throwing the words over your shoulder so she hears you. ‘You and Din work well together?’

‘He is a sound strategist,’ she says, moving with fluid grace from one stance to another. ‘And has valuable insight into the imps’ tactics.’

‘Uh huh,’ you mutter, trying out a few flows of your own, long-ago lessons seeping back into muscle memory. Fennec continues to meet each thrust and counter you present to her, but she’s clearly paying attention to your conversation as well. ‘And you spar together too, usually?’ 

‘Often yes,’ Wren says easily. You bite back bile. ‘He pairs well with most of our Covert for training. And is always willing to meet for a match with anyone. Usually.’

‘Right…’

Fennec is giving you so much side-eye you actually manage to land a blow, clipping the leather armour of her torso. But her sly smirk doesn’t shift one bit. She shakes it off and straightens, signalling a pause to your little exercise. 

‘So, what do you think?’ she asks, gesturing at your gifted weapon.

You nod in satisfaction. ‘S’good, well balanced. I like it.’

‘Think you’ll be able to take on their storm troopers with it?’ 

‘Well,’ you wipe sweat from your brow, give the gaffi stick a heft and a twist. ‘Like I said, you’re fast enough. But,’ another, unbidden grin pulls at the corners of your mouth. ‘They, usually, are not.’

She grins back.

A hot breeze pearls sweat on the skin you have exposed to the humid evening air. It’s a little uncomfortable, but you’re still glad for electing to take in your practice time out in the open. It had come to feel too on edge in the cavernous training space, increasingly busy as the eve of battle approached.

You’re not worried about being discovered by unwanted prying eyes. The patch of earth where you’ve staked your claim is just a little ways from the mouth of the Covert’s primary cave network. A high, crescent ridge gives cover to eighty percent of the surrounding terrain. The only exposure is to the south, where the elevation affords a dazzling view of a dark, shifting sea.

You complete one full run through of a wave form with your staff, before pausing to flex and test the range of motion in your new leathers again. It had been a surprise when a Mando craftsman had presented them to you. ‘On orders from the Armourer,’ he’d explained in a gruff tone. 

Similar to Fennec’s fit-out, but even more lightweight and modular, the garments fit you like a glove. You could move about in them with ease, the only rigid aspect being something hard and moulded laid under the shoulder pieces, stitched securely into the firm leather.

The coolest thing about the attire was you could add and remove parts to suit your attack or defence needs. Like now, when you’ve stripped the sleeves and greaves and are shifting across the dusty ground barefoot.

A step here, a lunge here. Bring the weapon around in an angry slash. You feel strong and sure, letting yourself get lost in a violent dance.

It’s when you orient the gaffi stick again to ready a chain combination that you sense eyes on you. You look around, but see no one other than the sentinels on the ridge – looking outwards. You glance back into the opening of the cave. It’s angled such that it drinks in light almost the moment its opening is breached, so it looks pitch black on approach but anyone could stand just within and see clearly out without being seen themselves.

Just as you lock eyes on the darkness, a sudden movement and the slightest glint of reflected light on steel convinces you someone had been doing just that.

But the opportunity to scrutinise that more closely vanishes when the unmistakable sound of inbound craft finds your ears. Fearful for a moment, you whirl to spot a guard making signals that their orbit patrol has returned.

Early. The orbit patrol has returned early.

You look out to the sea-soaked horizon and spy them. All three ships on a rapid approach. The warm evening air feels like a cruel slick of ice down your spine.

Because this only means one thing. 

They’ve arrived.

The enemy is here.

--

Prev | Next