#I'm rewriting this for the tenth time

[yuliasolsystem]

Okay, I'm trying to write an analysis of Legato and Knives' relationship in the manga, but apparently the app has a limit on the number of pictures in one post and the online translator I use has a limit on the number of words... So I decided to just make some separate posts about my interpretation of Legato and Knives' behavior toward each other in canon.

In short, I think their relationship is more complex than just "Legato blindly worships Knives but Knives doesn't care about him". I can see a mutual attachment between them that doesn't develop into a normal relationship, romantic or not, because of Knives' refusal to compromise his principles a little bit and Legato's inability to understand his own emotions.

I think I'll just show some examples from the manga and give my opinion of what is going on there, and I want to start with this scene because it is usually brought up as an example of how Knives doesn't care about Legato. But I think it's a little more complicated than that.

In short, I think Knives is lying.

Yes, he does say that he couldn't care less about Legato's loyalty and he also says he doesn't believe in Legato's ability to stand up to Vash, but his actions during the last battle tell exactly the opposite: Knives relies entirely on Legato's loyalty and his ability to deal with Vash.

Before Legato showed up from God knows where with his Guernica, Knives was observing the battlefield both below, on the planet's surface, and above, in space

Note the tense expression on his face: he is clearly having a hard time fighting several opponents at once and trying not to miss a single blow.

But then Legato appears (saving him for the third time in the manga) and from that moment Knives' behavior changes dramatically: he leaves Vash and the inhabitants of No Man's Land to Legato and focuses on the battle with the Earthlings.

Now he's acting very self-confident and even look on his face is changed.

He relies on Legato so much that he doesn't pay attention when humans hook up cables to a fused entity. Even one of the humans comments that it was too easy (I used fan translation for this one example because it was closer to the original)

Earlier we could see that Knives was very observant; he could not have failed to notice the ship with the cable. Especially since he knew that humans were up to something and he even knew what exactly.

Therefore, even while focused on preparing to repel the upcoming attack, he could not simply ignore such a threat. So my only explanation here is complete trust in Legato and faith in his powers. For Knives this level of trust in a human (especially since several of his allies have already betrayed him) would be a sign of a very personal attachment, that's why I think Legato is something more than a mere tool for him.

But why does he treat Legato like that then? I think, the fact of this attachment is too hard for him to accept because if he does he would feel as if he is betraying his own principles.

Knives' problem with humans goes deeper than just hatred and fear. He neither hates nor fears Legato, even though Legato, probably, is the only one who could hurt Knives if he wanted to. I mean he could control Knives' body even as a teen.

So that's not the reason for him to push Legato away. What then? I can imagine, for Knives to accept a human is the same as for Vash to kill one. Just as Vash thinks that if he kills even the evilest person, he will betray Rem and start turning into a monster, Knives probably thinks that if he lets a human get too close to him, he will betray the memory of Tessla and begin to forgive humanity for everything they've done to his kind. And just as Vash hoped he wouldn't have to face the negative consequences of his pacifism, Knives hoped that Legato would follow him to the end even if he keeps pushing him away.

Judging by the look on Knives' face, he was surprised by Legato's appearance

but decided that it meas that Legato's still loyal to him and his goals to the end. But alas, by this point Legato's concept of "loyalty" is a bit... different...

..but I'll talk about that in another post, I guess...

[losersiren]

𝒜 𝒥𝑒𝒶𝓁𝑜𝓊𝓈 𝒴𝒶𝓃𝒹𝑒𝓇𝑒!𝐿𝑜𝓇𝒹

”𝒶𝓈𝓀 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝓁𝒹, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝐼'𝓁𝓁 𝑔𝒾𝓋𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒾𝓉 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓇𝓈 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒷𝑒𝓎𝑜𝓃𝒹 𝒶𝓈 𝒶𝒸𝒸𝑒𝓈𝓈𝑜𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓈.” A continuation of my oc Ambrose, The lord N: Don't I have a gift for you, Anon! God, I had to rewrite this so many times, BUT I'M DONE!! Eat up! This is a long one! I had to watch so many gun videos (like two), which was unexpected... CW: Fem reader (she/her), acts and talks of violence (not towards the reader), implied murder, threats, guns, fluff (with the reader lol), mocking, power balance (?) Jealousy (or pettiness) Wc: 3.5k 

A shotgun sound echoes throughout the forest, followed by yet another dead Grey partridge and light crunches of leaves beneath stomping leather boots. 

“That bastard of a man! A prick! Son of a bitch! Son of an adventuress at that!” Ambrose stops in his tracks, reloading his sporting rifle with more gunpowder. Anger consumes his entire being. ”Did you hear what that bloody cocksucker Patrick said to her?” He hissed through his clenched teeth, grabbing the tiny 0.5 mm sphere lead bullet and layering it on top of some fabric. Shoving it inside the rifle barrel, “If what he said changed from the last few hundred times you’ve re-told the incident, then I have no utter clue.”  The younger male rolls his eyes, picking up the tenth bird Ambrose has slaughtered this afternoon. He ignores his younger cousin’s sarcastic quip and continues. “ ‘If you wish for a lovely evening, do not be a stranger; send me a letter, and I'll be by your side.’ I should’ve darkened his daylights when those vile words left his devil mouth.” He fixes his gun upright, pushing the first trigger, waiting for another prey to be a victim of his wrath. 

“Is she spoken for? Have you outwardly said you intend to court her?” His cousin questions, and Ambrose, in retaliation to his younger relative’s question….blushes like a young girl. Clenching his jaw, he answers, “No,” “Are you mad?!?” “I’ve attempted…but my nervousness has sabotaged me alas.” Astonished, his cousin continues, “Then you have no right to be jealous of her, you fool.” 

Bushes start rustling. Ambrose aims and squints instantly, with a pointer finger on the second trigger. A small grey rabbit appears, and immediately, it's killed straight through its skull; a soft smile appears on Ambrose’s face. “For her, I'll be whatever is needed.” 

“You are not sane.”

“Don’t be rude, Finch. This is love in its purest form. One day, you’ll understand.” The older male shrugs his shoulders.

“Now,” Ambrose reloads his gun, repeating his past actions, but this time, he looks straight into the other male’s eyes. “What do you know about Patrick Barton?” “I do not-” Ambrose cuts him off. “ Do not lie to me, young Finch…” His voice becomes lower, mocking, his aura more sinister. “You frequent more gentleman clubs than I; lord knows I hate the people and atmosphere of said clubs– Your mother grumbles enough to mine about the subject.” In goes the gunpowder: “You surround yourself with such…’ vast’ personalities from the elites to the ladies of the night.” The grey-eyed man reaches into his waistcoat for a lead bullet. “Yet you tell me– you don’t know about a mere Lord.” He scoffs.

Finch watches his older cousin's actions. Of course, he only asked to spend time with him for information regarding the apple of his eye’s new ‘suitor.’ The young man knows his current situation, the number of Grey partridge carcasses he holds because of Ambrose, and how far deep he’s in the forest, alone with his turbulent cousin. This was a warning, a show of sorts, that he could join these insignificant birds. He tries to swallow the heavy lump stuck in his throat. Ambrose was always the odd man; his smile never reached his eyes, his charm as real as a disloyal man’s ‘ I love you.’ His older cousin wasn’t above putting his hands on his own blood to get what he wanted– Ambrose’s father’s scar is evidence enough. 

“He partakes in Hell’s, frequents them more than gentleman’s clubs, a gambler of sorts. Loves it! He brags about the thrills of it and his winnings. Folks whisper that he’s a dishonourable shark. But it's not just hell establishments he attends; If there's someplace to gamble away his earnings, he's there,” Finch sputters his confession. 

“And Mills? Does he attend those as well?” “Yes,” The younger lad answers his senior instantly.

Ambrose just hums in return.

Just finishing his task, he aims for his cousin; he wears an inexpressive face, his grey eyes darkened and vacant, with no light, no soul.

“Wait, wait! I told you what you wanted!” Finch pleas. He could run, but in retrospect, how far can he go? Ambrose has a fucking rifle. He’s a good shot, no, an excellent shot. Hell! It’s borderline impossible how he always hits his targets, especially with how hard it is to aim for those things. Finch is panicking; his cousin has already pushed the first trigger. The nervous lad just accepts it; what else could he do? He closes his eyes, expecting his death to come quickly, then he hears a gunshot…

And he's fine…? Another Grey partridge falls from the sky right before him, its dead eye looking at the twenty-year-old.

Ambrose’s gun aims towards the sky. He lowers it. Then he casually approaches the stunned male, who lets out a staggered sigh, relieved he escaped death by a hair. Ambrose looks down at Finch, grabbing his shoulder and leaning in close. “Don’t ever fucking lie to me ever again, especially when the topic concerns my love.” Finch nods rapidly, shaking like a leaf. “Of course, sir, sorry.” Then, the older male releases his shoulders. “Good. Gift those birds to a peasant; perhaps they’ll make dinner with it, oh, and the rabbit, too. Say I have decided to help my community or something along those lines.” He looks at the sky. “I have a woman blessed by aphrodite to court.” His smile is bright, contrasting how he was a mere few seconds ago. He pats his younger cousin’s back and leaves the forest– The lifeless Grey partridge stares back at Finch, and he stares back.

Social calls…How dreadful. Worse is conversing with Lord Barton. He’s a bore, vulgar, and has an underlying inconsiderate, bitter personality. Having your mother as a chaperone does not make the situation any more bearable. 

 “Have you ever pondered about the future?” he inquires.

What kind of wet rag question is that? 

You put on a gentle smile. “Of course I have. Since I was a chit, I would read the local papers with my father-” He cuts you off “Children.” You look at him in confusion. “Pardon?”

The gentleman looks at you like you’re the biggest dunce in the country. “Children, how many children do you wish for? It would be sensible for us to have eight or ten,” “Hah…well…” you lift the tea cup to your mouth.

The man has no decorum…

After that fiasco, you decided to take a stroll downtown, and perhaps you’ll get a book from the local store, some new fabrics from a linen draper, or even some oils. Your pin money given to you by your parents could only cover one item... what a conundrum….

“Do tell me why the viscount’s only daughter is doing without a chaperone?” He leans against the brick wall, arms crossed, his smile beaming.

“Lord Howard, have you dropped your hunting hobby in exchange for stalking?” He chuckles. “Witty as always, but dare I disappoint? I was just strolling about my day and coincidentally saw you– Perhaps fate has decided for us to meet?” He pushes himself off the wall and offers his arm. Was it coincidence or fate…? No, it was none; it was all Ambrose, him asking your fellow lady peers about your whereabouts. Then, wandering near whatever local shops would possibly pique your interest. Memories play in his head, such as when you both were young and would rendezvous at the local forest. You would acquire many hobbies when you were younger– your mother said you would have a higher chance of obtaining a suitor with diverse skills. He would remember them and watch you in amazement when you talked about them. 

You made him feel human. You made him feel alive. His father was never a loving one; he gained the son he wanted, and his heir then wanted nothing more to do with him. The only attention Ambrose earned from The Earl was if he needed reprimanding. Every laugh that was too loud, every fork that he unitized improperly, every action, small or big, was scrutinized. His mother was a vacant husk of a woman at home and a social butterfly in the public eye; she watered herself down to being a wife and a mother. She was neither. He detested both of them and hated that damned empty feeling of his soul and heart that matched his vacated house; he felt nothing. His world was as grey as his eyes.

Till he met the colourful Viscount’s daughter– If he got kicked by a horse and lost his memory, he would still somehow remember the day you two met—the memory ingrained in his bones, body, and soul. On the way to your estate, the stately carriage was soundless and suffocating, as if the air was thick. Ambrose remembers how he bore his eyes into his obsidian-polished boots, wishing for the minutes to pass faster.  

You were a naive hoyden the first time you introduced yourself; you forgot to say his title and yours. Using his common name and giving him an oh-so-sweet genuine smile, he hadn’t ever seen such an authentic smile for him and only him—not for his parents nor his riches. Just him. Your parents scolded you while apologizing profusely for your ‘disrespect.’ Before his parents could utter something backhanded yet elegant, Ambrose smiled. He didn’t know he could do that. For the first time, the young boy speaks up; he feels this protectiveness over you. But, at the moment, Ambrose couldn't care less about his father's punishment that would soon come; the only thing that mattered was you, and soon he’d found out that it would always be you.

An airy laugh escapes you. “Do you wish for us to be caught in a scandal every time we meet?” He raises a faux, worried face and voice. “Me?!? As a future Earl, I am fulfilling my gentlemanly duties by escorting a fine young lady and keeping her from potential dangers. What’s so scandalous about that?” You take his arm. “You’re far from sane, My Lord.”

“For you, My lady? I hope so,” He says proudly with his chest out.

A comfortable silence lulls you as you look at how the sun hits the trees, people, and him. The sun's rays lighten his dark brown hair, blessing it with an orange hue and grey eyes, becoming Iridescent, more akin to a pearl.

“The latest on dit says Lord Barton has called for your company?” He inquires 

Your face grimaces at just the sound of his name. As much as you loathe the man, he is a viable suitor with good money and an excellent reputation, but a suitable suitor does not equate to a good man. “He’s…an interesting individual…” His jaw clenches. You’re not being open as he wants; you’re holding back…he hates that you might be hiding something. Not you per se but that damned rake Patrick. “He’s a rake,” he spits out, and you gaze at him. He’s uncharacteristically serious.

You smile. “He is,” Ambrose turns his head to you, returning your smile.

“Quite the feat to dissect the woman you are trying to woo as well.” The gentleman’s eyebrows furrow. “He did not,” you huff. “Oh, he did!” Ambrose stops in his tracks and mummers your name softly. “If you would only permit it, Allow me to court you,” You raise an eyebrow at the sudden question, “Pardon?” He continues, “That bastard doesn’t deserve you.” “And you do?” he chuckles. “No, but I’ll do everything you ask me to, then maybe one day I'll deserve you; you wish for dresses? I'll buy you the tailor and store. Money is far from an issue. Heavens, ask for the world, and I'll give you it with the stars and beyond as accessories.” He turns his whole body to you, his hands finding yours, his leather gloves causing a barrier between your soft ones.

He hates that 

“Ambrose…” 

“Please…only if you’ll allow me.”  The love-sick man entreated “But what about the other more suitable ladies? I’ve heard-” “I do not care for them,” He interrupts you. “Every second I was apart, I only longed for you. The only reason I kept my studies up was to be the perfect suitor equal to you.” He caresses your knuckles. The butterflies in your stomach flutter more after each word spills out of his mouth. Your relationship with Ambrose was vague at most. You couldn’t put your finger on it; every time you were in his presence, you had this comfort no one else could recreate. You were hesitant to put a label onto it, and maybe you feel this way because he was the only man you truly felt you could be yourself with. 

“If you wish to court me, you must’ve thought to ask my father for permission rather than myself.” 

“I could’ve,” He pauses, “But I'd rather ask you first; I need your permission. I am not marrying your father, am I? I need to hear you wish for me as much as I yearn for you,”  

You amuse the thought. Ambrose is a prick at times, his teasing relentless, but despite that, he’s charming, sincere, soothing, and protective. He’s a good man, indeed. 

“I’ll bite, My lord.” “Please do.” He smirked, masking his nervousness.

You slap his hand lightly, reprimanding him, “Let me continue, you brute…I’ll allow you to court me.” “Truly?” he exclaims, Astonished. “Truly,” You nod meekly. In a haste, he kisses your bare hands, each knuckle, each finger. “I’ve been blessed indeed,” his voice is as blissful as a child receiving a sugary dessert. You yank your hands away from him, flushed from his actions. “You dog, we are in the public,” you scold him. “I shall make it up to you in our next outing; I vow,” You swear you could see a wagging tale behind him. You sigh. 

The day went on, and by sundown, Ambrose had hired a post-chaise for the both of you despite your protests of you living just around the corner. He claimed he had ‘Earl-like duties to attend to’ and you were just on the route back either way. As a gentleman should, he dropped you off promptly; as he left in the carriage, away from your estate, you softly ran your fingers over your knuckles. A smile adorns your face. “What an oaf,” you whisper to yourself. A fond grin decorates Ambrose’s face, a few giggles even, but as euphoric this day was, he did have business to attend to. A certain lord has decided to make his lacklustre presence known, and Ambrose couldn’t celebrate until he exterminated said pest.

Gentleman’s clubs were boisterous, loud, and untrustworthy. The men here are just as vile as the feed that is fed to pigs. The soon-to-be-Earl disliked them and only engaged in them because he needed to build his reputation. He may be judgemental, but he isn’t an idiot. Others may regard him as a friend, but for him, he could care less for it. The males around him start to recognize Ambrose, yelling pleasantries, which he would return and shut down politely or…as politely as he could in his eyes. A booming voice reverberates against the wall of the finely furnished building, only belonging to the one and only Patrick Barton. Unconsciously, a scowl appears on the young man’s face. Ambrose knew more than he led on about Patrick; he heard whispers of Barton’s hobby in the mills, rigging the boxing matches that were bid on by elites and peasants alike. Word says he would pay one of the desperate participants to lose on purpose– word is bound to escape one day or another. It is not a sustainable income source. Yet another reason Lord Barton is not fit for you.

Ambrose walks towards the table where the bastard sits, narrowing his eyes.

Lord Barton and his goons recognize the lord approaching them. Barton speaks first: “Lord Howard! Is it a blue moon? What on earth might’ve convinced you to come out of that dreadful estate?” He laughs, arranging some snuff onto the mahogany to snort. “Perhaps it’s because you plan on courting his woman.” a nameless male inquires. “No, could it be? I don’t blame you, Ambrose; she is a fine woman, isn’t she? She is just in need of training,” another male said, joining in. “So does every woman in this country.” Another chuckle escapes the vulgar lord. 

Ambrose’s leather gloves wrinkle. His fist clenched to prevent him from beating the man in front of him into a pummel. He has a plan, the grey-eyed man repeats in his head. Then he forces a smile on his face. “On the contrary, I've decided to pick up a new gambling hobby; why not ask the man of the hour himself for advice? Or even a game or two.” Ambrose signals a servant and orders drinks for the table. The man in question gets up, slapping Ambrose on his back. “Atta boy, never let a woman come between men; let bygones be bygones, what a joyance plan! Come, come.” The night continues, and Patrick is as drunk as the rest of the men in the club; Ambrose, the gentleman he is, offers him to join his carriage in his words. 'Let’s start this newfound friendship off with a bang.' Cold water hits the once-drunken lord, and he awakens, gasping for air on the cold textured ground. ‘Where am I?’ he thinks, discombobulated, looking around and grasping his situation. The dark forest surrounds him, almost engulfing him; the trees blow along with the wind, and the creatures of the night rustle in the background. A voice comes from the shadows, luring him away from his racing thoughts, “Gunpowder is such a messy substance, but did you know a man invented a gun powered by air? What a time to be alive! How revolutionary!” Patrick looks at the man, most of his body consumed by the darkness of nightfall, the moon only making his grey eyes visible. 

“Ambrose, what the utter fuck-” “Don’t interrupt.” He says sternly. “As I was saying, a gun powered by air,” He continues. “A watchmaker of all things invented it; how preposterous! He eliminated gunpowder entirely and named this new gun  Windbüchse or, I know you only know English, so pardon me, I'll translate, wind gun.”  

“It’s far better than my hunting rifle; the tedious thing is quite a hassle to reload. But this wind gun can load much faster, 20 rounds a minute! Compared to the other, it is much quieter. It's a shame its range is far smaller.” The man standing pouts. “But all is well. The Austrian army decided to order thousands of supplies, and it’s fortunate I even got my hands on one.” Patrick squints, trying to distinguish Ambrose, and it finally sets in. In a forest he doesn’t know of, with a man who has a gun in his hand in the dead of night. Not just any man but a Lord known for his physical fitness and hunting expertise since he was a just a lad. 

Fuck

“If this is about your lady, Ambrose, you can have her! There’s no need to do this!” Patrick tries to reason with the love-sick lord, yet it's no use. The other man scoffs, “I’ve always detested men like you, greedy, hypocritical. Ready to jump boat when things get too tough for your liking– where is your backbone? Where is your spine? Your pride?” Ambrose circles the pain-filled man on the ground. “You never deserved to even be in her presence; you aren’t even entitled to breathe the same air as her,” He then spontaneously kicks Patrick's ribs, causing him to curl up on a ball, yelping. Ambrose looks down at the pathetic man. “But, I am a fair man, unlike you, so I'll give you a chance to run while I read you the note I have written in your writing announcing your hasty departure after news of your rigging in the mills comes to light, your writing was not hard to duplicate as well; who knew mother’s penmanship lessons would come in handy,” He chuckles.

 “Now run, monkey, while you still can.” He sets the trigger and then turns the spindle of his gun clockwise till a clicking sound can be heard, indicating he doesn’t need to turn it anymore. Ambrose opens the barrel, puts in an 8.5 mm bullet, and then shuts it. 

“I’m sure we can talk this out reasonably, money! I have money! Have it all; buy your woman something nice-” Patrick feels his thigh get warmer at first rather than the pulsing pain of a bullet shooting through his thigh that would soon follow shortly after. He screams.“To think you have the naivety to think I couldn’t fund my lover for generations on end,”

Ambrose rolls his eyes. “Scream louder; perhaps you’ll awaken a bear to save you,” yet again, he starts reloading his wind gun, faster at that, “I am not one to repeat himself nor give mercy. Run, rabbit.”

With adrenaline coursing through his body, Patrick runs…or well, attempts to. 

 Ambrose reaches into his waistcoat for the forged letter, clearing his voice to read it while his other hand holds his gun. Though his attention should be on the task at hand, he is utterly distracted by possible outing plans you would adore. Shall he go canoeing with you? Or a picnic? A carriage ride underneath the newly blooming cherry blossoms? Why not all three?  

Oh. how he longs to see you again.

Notes: I'm gonna be so honest, romance is the hardest thing to write for me. It's probably noticeable, forgive me (⇀‸↼‶) I had to do some research for this one, but it was a fun process learning more about Regency lingo and gun history. For my next full fic. I was thinking of a yandere! Cannibalistic 50's housewife, but idk….hehe…if you have any ideas send them to my inbox!! I'd like to say again THANK YOU FOR THE SUPPORT!!! Reading all your kind words makes my little shy heart soar (o^ ^o) see you soon, my little guppies!! 

[f1goat]

his teammate + lando norris x part five

In which you find yourself getting closer to your brothers new teammate who's a dick.

lando norris x fem!verstappen (sister) + cursewords + eventually smutty i wrote this before, but i'm rewriting it because i missed somethings. you can comment if you want to be added to a taglist :) thanks for reading!

masterlist x playlist

“Hi! I’m here for Lando, he told me I could wait in his drivers room.”

You’re silently looking at the beautiful girl who’s suddenly standing in front of you. Where did she come from this suddenly? The race started a few minutes earlier. Everything about the girl annoys you already. The way she thinks you work here - it’s not like you’re wearing RedBull clothing -, but also everything she just said. Lando told her she could wait here for him. Pff. 

Last night you couldn’t help yourself and stalked some formula one gossip accounts on different social media platforms. You were glad to find out that it was a while ago since Lando has been spotted with a random girl. But now there’s a new girl for him standing right in front of you. Why annoys you that so much? 

Everything about her annoys you. Why isn’t she watching the race since she’s already on the track? Is she only here for Lando and his name and body? Doesn’t she care about the race? You shake off those thoughts. You remind yourself that she’s isn’t doing anything wrong. It’s Lando who you’re annoyed at. He invited her. If you only knew why it mattered this much to you. 

“I don’t work here, so I think you need to tell someone else,” you tell the girl eventually.

“Oh sorry!” She exclaims, “I’ll find someone else.”

“Try someone with a RedBull team shirt,” you say a bit sarcastically. She thanks you, maybe she didn’t notice your sarcastic undertone. 

While the girl walks away from you, you try to focus on the race again. After yesterday you decided to watch here again. Max his friends are still on his side of the garage and you’re still not in the mood to watch with them. Now that you have seen this girl, you start to regret your decision. You can only think about what Lando will do with her after his race. Fuck. 

Are you jealous of this random girl?

You watch how she’s walking towards Lando his drivers room with one of the mechanics. Why is she this beautiful? Maybe you would feel better if she wasn’t some model. You try to focus on the race again, but you don’t succeed. You can only think about this random girl and Lando, who will probably lay on top of her later this day. Fuck this day. And Lando.

For the third time, you try to focus on the race again. RedBull is having an amazing race. Lando is driving third, which is really good after starting on tenth place. Your brother is driving on his usual first place, but maybe Lando can challenge him later in the race. There’s more then enough time for that. You watch how Lando tries to overtake Lewis, but how he fails. A few laps it goes on like this, but Lando just misses out every time. You watch him try again, this time he actually succeeds at it. You clap in your hands for his move. It isn’t every day that someone can overtake Lewis from the outside. 

Then the unfortunate happens. Lewis is quick to try to overtake Lando again now he’s still in his DRS zone. He wants to fight for his position, which you get. Lando stays on his racing line in a tight turn, but Lewis misses it a bit. At least that how it seems like for you. Before you can realize it, Lando his RedBull is on the grass next to the turn and with a flat tire. He can’t come back to the pits. Every other driver overtakes him. Yellow flags are waving around. Lando gets out of his car. You can’t see his facial expressions, he keeps his helmet on. You’re sure Lando his facial expressions aren’t nice at the moment. 

You feel bad for Lando. Really bad. The mechanics around you are letting out frustrated screams. You hear how Christian is already complaining by the FIA about this move from Lewis. You get it. It takes you a lot of control to stop yourself from screaming with them. Lando worked so hard to come back from his tenth position to a podium place. Now his whole race is fucked. This is the second race of the season and also the second one he will end without any points. You let out a frustrated groan.

It doesn’t take long before Lando is back in the garage. He’s clearly not in the mood to talk with anyone at this moment. Nobody says a word to him. They all read his expressions and mood. You try to find eye contact with him, but you fail. Lando is pacing around in the garage while looking at the floor. When he looks up for a bit and watches everyone else’s reactions around him, it seems like he notices you. He’s walking closer to you. Or is your mind tricking you? You wonder what’s happening right now. Lando is almost standing in front of you. 

“Don’t ask any questions,” Lando mutters to you when he’s standing in front of you, “but hold me for a bit.” 

Hold him? What does Lando mean with that? Before you can question him, Lando comes even closer to you. He wraps his arms around your body and without thinking about it, you return the gesture. Lando his grip on you tightens. You slowly caress his back. 

Why does it feel this nice to hug with him?

“What a shit show,” Lando mutters annoyed. It’s obvious to you that he’s talking about the race. You keep your silence, but you don’t stop with caressing his back. “I deserved that podium,” he continues to say. He keeps on muttering about the race and how Lewis ruined it. Sometimes you hum a bit to him as reply. 

“I did deserve the podium, right?” Lando asks you after a bit of silence. 

You don’t have to think about your answer. “Yeah,” you state, “you were driving amazingly. You really deserved the podium.” 

Before Lando or you can say anything else, there’s someone interrupting you. 

“I figure you found the girl who was waiting for you?” A mechanic asks Lando. 

Lando looks up confused. You on the other hand know what this is about. When the mechanic notices it’s you who’s this close with Lando, he’s quick to apologize to you. 

“Sorry Y/N! I didn’t notice it was you,” he says, “but Lando that girl is probably still in your drivers room.”

You start to feel annoyed again. How could you forget about her? Why is Lando even with you right now if he can fuck out all of his frustrations with her? 

“Which girl?” Lando asks.

“The girl you told to wait for you in your drivers room,” you reply annoyed.

The mechanic is quick to feel the tension between you and Lando. He walks off. Leaving you and Lando with each other again. 

“What are you talking about?” Lando asks further. 

“Don’t act dumb,” you sigh. You walk a bit more backwards to create more space between Lando and you. 

Lando thinks about all of his movements from earlier today. He didn’t met a girl who he told to meet him later this day. He didn’t text anyone, he only made a few texts to you which he didn’t dare to send. He’s sure he invited no one. Now that he thinks about it, it’s a while ago since he did that. He doesn’t reach out for random girls anymore since he got a bit closer to you. There’s no chance that there’s a girl sitting there for him who he invited.

“I didn’t invite anyone,” Lando states.

You feel yourself getting more frustrated. Why is Lando lying to you about this? It’s not like your dumb. You talked to her yourself. 

“Don’t lie,” you say, “She’s in your room, just like you told her to do.”

“I didn’t!” Lando replies frustrated, he doesn’t understand what is happening. “It’s probably just a fan who tested her luck and got in.” 

“Great excuse,” you mutter, “just go to her already instead of wasting my time by lying.”

Lando grabs your wrist. You’re suddenly thankful that Max is still racing. You don’t even know why you’re behaving like this right now. Why do you even care about Lando and this random girl? It must be because he’s lying to you. Right? 

“You’re coming with me,” Lando groans to you, “so I can show you that I don’t know the fucking girl.” 

It doesn’t take long before Lando and you are standing in front of his drivers room. He opens the door, but doesn’t even look around. You’re quick to spot the girl again. 

“See there’s no one,” Lando states.

“Look again Lando,” you sigh annoyed.

Does he really believe that you’re this dumb? The girl is standing up from her earlier position and starts walking towards Lando. Who can’t really see past her anymore. You hear how he’s muttering some curse words. When you look at Lando you notice his surprised and confused expressions. Maybe he didn’t lie to you? Maybe he didn’t know she would be here?

“Maisie?” Lando asks confused. You realize that he does know her. You can’t say you’re surprised, but you did hope for another outcome. 

“Lando, hey!” She greets him back full enthusiasm. 

“See, you do know her,” you tell Lando annoyed, “So don’t lie to me the next time.” You’re already turning around to leave Lando and this Maisie alone with each other. When you want to walk away properly, Lando is still holding onto your wrist. 

“I didn’t know she would be here,” Lando tells you. 

“Yeah, yeah,” you mutter, “I’ll see you later Lando.”

This time he drops your wrist. You start to walk away, but you can’t help yourself from listening to what Maisie is telling Lando after you left the room. 

“So I guess this is the girl you ditched me for last night?” Maisie asks Lando.

Ditched her for? What is she talking about? You walk a bit further away, you can barely hear Lando his response. 

“What are you doing here?” Lando asks her a bit angrily. He’s annoyed that Maisie is here. This ruined a good moment he had with you. Things were finally looking good between him and you, but now is Maisie here. You’re mad at him again. Fuck. He wonders why you’re mad about it. Do you care that there’s another girl in his drivers room? Could it be that you’re a bit jealous? Lando can only hope so.

“I came to get what I missed yesterday,” Maisie says.

“We’re not fucking,” Lando is quick to say, “and I want you to fuck off. You can’t walk into her and wait for me like this.”

“I noticed,” Maisie replies, “It seems like your new girl is here.”

You can barely hear Maisie, but you’re pretty sure you have heard her right. Why would she think that you’re Lando his new girl?

“She’s not my new girl,” Lando replies annoyed. 

Maisie laughs. “You wish she is,” she tells Lando, “but if I were her, I wouldn’t want to be your girl. You can’t be trusted.”

“Fuck off Maisie.”

You almost feel bad for Lando after hearing the mean words from Maisie. Almost. You realize that Maisie is leaving his drivers room and that you’re still standing way too close. You need to get away from here quickly. You start to walk away with a fast pace. Lando his words are still on your mind in the mean time. Why does Maisie thinks Lando wants you? Why did he ditch her yesterday? Was it actually for you? This is all way too confusing. 

What you don’t know is that Maisie turns around to Lando one more time. You’re too far away to realize this or to hear anything about this.

“I pity her,” Maisie tells Lando, “Sure you can act nice for a few weeks, but Lando you’ll always stay the same awful person. Do you really think she deserves that?”

“Maisie-“ Lando starts to say.

“No Lando. Think about it and realize how right I am. Your family realizes it as well, right?”

Lando doesn’t even know what to say anymore. She’s right. Absolutely right. But he doesn’t want to tell her that. So he does the next best thing. He acts like a child and starts to scream at her.

“Oh like your an amazing girl?” He asks with a loud voice, “You’re only fucking with me for fame, you’re a fucking-“

“Shut it, I’m gone.”

She does what she says and leaves. Lando is left alone with his thoughts. The thoughts he doesn’t want to think about. He thinks about his parents. What if he had acted a bit different around that time?

He doesn’t want to think back about that time. But after Maisie her words he can’t stop thinking about everything he did wrong. Of course it wasn’t entirely his fault, but the most of it was to blame on himself. He acted wrong so many times. He was ungrateful towards his parents after everything they did for him. It’s his own fault that there’s barely any contact left between them. 

What if he’s going to treat you like that as well? It’s nice that he wants you, but is he actually willing to change for you? Lando lets out a big sigh. He decides to text his friend Max (F). Maybe his friend can help him with this mess. Thank god he invited Max for the race today, he really needs to talk to him face to face about this. Lando feels glad that Max is around here.

+++

“You’re telling me that you like a girl? And not some random girl, but the sister of your teammate?”

Lando can’t help himself and laughs. If you hear it like this, it sounds hopeless. Maybe it actually is. It probably is.

“And you haven’t even fucked or kissed her yet?” Max continues to ask.

Lando simply nods. He knows it sounds utterly ridiculous. Especially for someone like him. Where is his normal confidence? Normally he would have flirted like crazy with you until you were in his bed. Maybe it’s the difference that he’s actually feeling something this time? 

“This is actually crazy,” Max states.

“I know,” Lando sighs, “believe me I didn’t plan this.”

“But what do you want to do with it?”

“I uh,” Lando stutters a bit before he knows how to say what’s on his mind properly. “I want to uh, to change.” 

“You want to change?” Max asks confused, “Since when?” 

Lando informs him about what happened earlier today and even before that what happened between you and him. He talks about his friend what you did for him - or better said for the team - when he was an idiot and tried to fight security members of a club. He talks about his short messages contact with you and the way he blew up both of your Instagram accounts. Then he informs Max about your awkward conversation with him yesterday in the car after dinner. But also about the way you talked back at him for being too late at a dinner reservation. He tells Max everything about today, including the words from Maisie. 

“I already figured that I needed to change before that conversation with Maisie,” Lando confesses, “but now I’m afraid it’s already too late. What if I can’t change for the better anymore? I can’t expect Y/N to fall for me if I’m like this.”

“I don’t even know what to say,” Max reacts, “When can I meet the girl who’s making you willing to change?” 

“Tonight?” Lando suggests, “There’s this big after party for Max his win, I’m invited and you can come with me. I think she’s there as well.”

“Deal!” Max reacts happily. 

“But you do need to help me,” Lando sighs, “I have no idea how I can make sure I deserve her.”

Max looks at his friend. He notices the desperate look of Lando. He sighs. Only a few people know how hard his friend can be for himself. This is one of those times. Of course he isn’t the ideal son in law at the moment, but he is willing to work for it. 

“I think that decision is up to her,” Max tells Lando, “and if she’s already spending time with you, she thinks you deserve that. So that’s a good sign, right?” 

“But she’s always talking back to me,” Lando counters.

“You don’t have to change who you are, just try to fix your manners,” Max suggests, “be a bit more polite, stop fucking every other girl, all that bullshit.”

taglist ; @whore8io & @chonkybonky & @love4lando

[burst-of-iridescent]

You constantly portray Katara (in your posts and in your "dissertation") like some damsel in distress who is in a codependent relationship and does not defend her opinion in front of her partner, to the point that she allows him to mistreat her children. But the basis of her character is that she will never tolerate any shit from anyone. She always defends her opinion, and she does not oppose Aang precisely because their values are basically the same with Aang. You cannot agree with this, because then you would either have to admit that Aang is not the terrible person you paint him, or that Katara is not the perfect girl you want her to be. That is why you are forced to humiliate her and completely rewrite her character, just not to admit that she is in an equal relationship with Aang and their values coincide.

In addition, such a "katara" makes even less sense for zutara, because if her character has a tendency to codependence on her partner and a willingness to tolerate shit from him, then their relationship with Zuko would not be healthy, since Zuko is prone to self-pity, selfishness and outbursts of anger even after his redemption and he does not show even a tenth of the maturity that Aang has by the end of the show (and even if you do not agree with this, I hope you understand that if there is a tendency to codependent relationships in a person's character, then this tendency is realized in any relationship, regardless of the partner. And any such relationship will be unhealthy).

well i lost braincells reading this so i expect reparations for that, but i'm in a nice, salty mood today so... sure anon, i'll bite.

She always defends her opinion, and she does not oppose Aang precisely because their values are basically the same with Aang.

you must really dislike katara, because saying that the only reason she never challenged aang is because she never disagreed with him, rather than that her idealization of him blinded her to his flaws is... so much worse. are you telling me she thought it was right for him to recklessly burn her? or yell at her in the desert and abandon her to take care of sokka and toph alone? or kiss her without her consent? or give their airbending child preferential treatment over their other two children?

because katara doesn't hold aang to account for any of the things on that (non-exhaustive) list, and if your explanation for that is that she agreed with him, then we both know who here is really bastardizing katara's character.

do katara and aang share certain core values? sure. they're both kind, compassionate and hopeful people. but saying that katara's morals are "basically the same" as aang's is objectively untrue when they clash in both the southern raiders and sozin's comet over their personal moral codes on the sanctity of life and whether taking one can ever be justified.

neither of these conflicts are ever truly resolved, even by the end of the show. katara and aang never come to any sort of understanding or middle ground, or even raise the subject ever again, despite it being clear that they don't share the same perspective. katara even explicitly rejects aang's creed of blanket forgiveness by stating that she did not forgive yon rha and never will. i don't know about you, but that feels like a pretty major difference of opinion to me.

additionally, the fact that these are the only two times in the entire show that katara actually pushes back against aang's beliefs and decisions - and stands firm on it - proves my point, because she's only able to do so when she has absolutely no other choice. it's only the trauma of her mother's murder and the literal fate of the entire world that forces katara to challenge aang rather than excuse and coddle him. and that is unhealthy both for aang and katara, because an equal partner should be able to call you out on your flaws and mistakes without first having to be backed into a corner to do it.

That is why you are forced to humiliate her and completely rewrite her character, just not to admit that she is in an equal relationship with Aang and their values coincide.

i really adore this recent trend in atla fandom of insisting that it's zutara shippers who are responsible for adultifying katara or humiliating katara or any and all problems that exist within katara's narrative as if we personally wrote the show instead of just... pointing out what already exists in canon.

i'm not the one who robbed katara of all agency in her relationship, or refused to give her arc equal narrative space with aang's, or turned her into a subservient trophy wife with no legacy or voice. you can go take that up with the creators.

believe me anon, i wish i could manipulate canon for my nasty zutara agenda, but alas you can't have everything in life.

Zuko is prone to self-pity, selfishness and outbursts of anger even after his redemption and he does not show even a tenth of the maturity that Aang has by the end of the show

zuko didn't throw a hissy fit because the girl he liked didn't like him back, pressure her for an answer, force a kiss on her, or be preachy and judgemental towards her during one of the most difficult times of her life - but hey, whatever floats your boat.

(thank you for providing no evidence, by the way. saved me a ton of time reading more batshit insane misinterpretations of canon, or lies, or both.)

In addition, such a "katara" makes even less sense for zutara, because if her character has a tendency to codependence on her partner and a willingness to tolerate shit from him, then their relationship with Zuko would not be healthy I hope you understand that if there is a tendency to codependent relationships in a person's character, then this tendency is realized in any relationship, regardless of the partner.

i'm genuinely bamboozled as to why you seem to think that i called katara codependent, because i didn't. i don't think katara and aang are codependent, and i have never once said that. but i understand that sending anonymous, bad-faith arguments is a difficult, underappreciated job, so let's take the hypothetical and assume i did to help you out.

fictional characters are not real people, and so it is possible for them to have different dynamics with different characters. that's why i can ship taang or zutara or mailee but not kat.aang or mai.ko. because each of these relationships are written to fulfil different narrative purposes, the characters involved are not doomed to repeat the same patterns of behaviour in each relationship as real people might be - and the difference between the zutara and kat.aang interactions in canon proves it.

[sshannonauthor]

What will the tenth anniversary of The Bone Season contain in it?

It's a complete rewrite. The course of events is essentially the same, but I've tried to revise the book with the skill I've (hopefully) accrued over the last ten years, with a particular focus on making the worldbuilding more accessible, working in more fine detail, clarifying the passage of time, and refining the relationship between Warden and Paige. It will also have a fresh cover design.

I don't yet know if it will have any bonus material. I'm very proud of the work I've done on it, and I hope it will be a stronger introduction to the series for new readers, and a new take on a familiar story for long-term fans.

[ebony-hawthorne]

miraculous rewrite part 3: adrien agreste

ok so just before we start all of this. The biggest change with adrien will be his fashion, because i personally do not have a ton of issues with him. Oh and i'm getting rid of the sentimonster thing

Adrien was born into a happy family, or so he thought. He had a mom and dad who loved him, more money then god, and lots of people around the house to take care of him. He would have sp much fun! When he was 7 all of that changed.

His mom got sick with a terminal illness. He was left home with his attendants more and more, because his father had to take his mom to hospital visits, and he had work, and she couldn't plau with him anymore. Soon people started coming to his house, once, twice a week.

As a hope to distract him, gabriel started putting him in his advertisements. And he was a hit! And it seemed to make his parents happy. Sure there were weird guys, and he found the clothes uncomfortable, but it made his mom smile. And soon he got to spend more time with her to!

His dad got tons a family photos with them, she came to his shoots, and would play with him again! He thought she was getting better! Sure people still came, and tthere were whispered conversations he wasn't a part of, but he thought it was about boring adult stuff. The stream of people had stopped comin and everything! Life was looking up!

It all shattered when he was 10. Not even two weeks after his tenth birthday, she passed. He didn't know how he had been so wrong, so off the mark. She told him she loved him and then she was just... Gone. He was broken, devastated. But that barely scratched the surface for his father. He became a shell of himself, a broken man. He cut himself off, from everyone, leaving him to play with his new assistantt/nanny and bodygaurd. But he didn't really feel like playing anymore. It was less fun. He found himself not wanting to go out, only leaving the house for photoshoots and other modelling stuff. His fatheR didn't even leave for those anymore.

He ended up getting homeschooled by nathalie, his fathers assistant, because going out caused him to much anxiety. He didn't like being constantly fawned iver and looked at. Especially the weird looks. But after awhile his dad wanted to attempt to bring some normalcy back ibto his life, and enrolled him into school. So, 5 years after his mom died he went back to school, and had no hope. Until he met marinette...

Redesigns coming soon!

[streetlamp-amber]

GUIDELINES

about the author + blog rules

⤾ NAVIGATION 　　 → MASTERLIST

✧˖*°࿐ABOUT THE AUTHOR

.·:*¨ ailís — 22 — fae/they (okay with girl gendered terms) — bisexual enby ¨*:·.

ꕤ — i’m bilingual, my first language is french but i only write in english (though i might incorporate french in some fics/one shots).

ꕤ — i'm back in school for the first time after dropping out of college four years ago so i'm struggling with keeping my school-work-social-activist life balanced (because yes i also got involved with my university's student committee for Palestine literally during the first week of class). i'm currently a free student, meaning i'm in no particular bachelors program, and i'm hesitating between majoring in art history or photography. i won't be following any posting schedule on here, i write when i have time to and i'm a little bit of a perfectionist so i won't rush myself to fulfill your requests with writing that i'm not satisfied of.

ꕤ — things i like: blueberry bagels with cream cheese, autumn, concert photography, poetry, music (arctic monkeys, lorde, blur, wallows, inhaler, fontaines dc), movies (studio ghibli, nolan’s dark knight trilogy, irish cinema, french cinema), tv shows (peaky blinders, broadchurch, derry girls, true detective, doctor who, the sopranos, new girl), sports (montreal canadiens, liverpool fc, celtic fc, f1), the colour green, europe (but not england or germany), cillian murphy, david tennant, art museums, batman.

ꕤ — i’ve been writing fanfiction for years (it all started with very poorly written one direction imagines on instagram and wattpad when i was thirteen…), improving both my writing skills and my english vocab + grammar along the way. my earliest works available are from 2021 (on ao3) because i’m too ashamed of anything posted before that (and it was also very bad).

ꕤ — i’m very multifandom and will mostly write content related to my most recent hyperfixations. there’s a list down below with all the characters i read and am interested in writing fanfiction for.

✧˖*°࿐WRITING + RULES

ꕤ — this blog will be mostly dedicated to one shots, blurbs, headcanons, drabbles and maybe short series.

i do write long series on wattpad (and also on ao3 but that one is currently on hold). i’m in the middle of a friends series rewrite with a joey tribbiani x female oc storyline that i’m very invested in (this might be the first multi chaptered fanfic i ever complete). i also started writing a tenth doctor x witch oc au but i’m taking much longer to update this one as it will mostly be original episodes instead of following the doctor who storyline. i also have a tommy shelby x oc fic that’s been on hold for a year that i plan on eventually getting back into writing.

ꕤ — i honestly don’t really care about canon (especially when it comes to stuff like the dc universe). i will always respect identity traits that are important to the character like race, sexuality, disability, etc., but i might get ooc sometimes when it comes to their personalities.

ꕤ — i will try to keep my reader inserts as physically vague as possible except if it’s indicated that the reader is afab. however, i am physically disabled with chronic pain so i might incorporate some aspects related to that in my writing (it will be indicated at the beginning of the post).

ꕤ — i am okay with minors interacting with my sfw writings but if i see anyone under the age of 18 interacting with nsfw stuff you will be blocked. i can’t stop you from reading it but i am not comfortable with you interacting with that content.

ꕤ — requests will be answered once i’m done writing them. i will try my best to do so as fast as possible but i tend to write multiple works at once so if you see me post other things after you sent your request, don’t get deterred. if you send a request i don’t want to write, i’ll reply to the ask to also let others know not to request something similar.

ꕤ — do not translate, copy or publish my work on other platforms without my permission.

!! DO NOT REQUEST !!

major character death (canon or non-canon), underage reader or character, incest, any kink involving fluids, noncon/dubcon, self harm, eating disorders, yandere, abuse, manipulation, butt stuff, cheating/infidelity, a/b/o

✧˖*°࿐CHARACTER LIST

✵ doctor who

⋆ tenth doctor

✵ peaky blinders

⋆ tommy shelby

✵ dc universe

⋆ batman/bruce wayne ⋆ batmom/batfamily ⋆ scarecrow

✵ bridgerton

⋆ benedict bridgerton

✵ supernatural

⋆ dean winchester

✵ broadchurch

⋆ alec hardy

✵ true detective

⋆ rust cohle

✵ harry potter

⋆ sirius black ⋆ barty crouch jr ⋆ fred weasley

last updated 5 october 2024.  　　 divider by @saradika

[triflesandparsnips]

...I sometimes go feral for things in OFMD that maybe others don't (yet). So here's what I'm feral about right now:

These are two touch-starved people. And here they are, touching one another. Holding hands, yes, but also-- touching.

Here are some things to know about the human hand:

"The human hand contains about 100,000 nerves, of at least 20 different kinds. Twelve receive various touch sensations; eight are motor fibers, carrying commands from the spine; and all are specialists--"

The hand is an astonishing sensory tool. Our world is composed of nothing except that which we can translate through our own sensory inputs: What we "see" is what our photo receptors translate into little electrical impulses that our brain then turns into pictures; what we "smell" is the brain's interpretation of what molecules an olfactory neuron can detect...

...but what we "feel" is not only what our very very tiny, very specialized mechanosensory neurons register, but also how those registered sensations interact, how they are processed in concert and conversation with one another to clarify what is being sensed, how they are transformed based on the perceived importance to the situation and the object being touched to allow for a physical reaction to occur even before the brain can fully register what's happening and respond accordingly.

A touch, for the touch-averse, can be a full-body flinch before our brains even register that a sensor has been triggered. A touch can translate into danger because the body has learned that that is what is paired with this or that physical sensation, this or that emotional situation.

The experience of touch happens before-- outside-- human thought.

And the thing is, the thing I keep thinking about, is:

To experience touch-aversion, but to take a deep breath, and to believe in the soft intent of the other person-- to take the time and effort and concentration necessary to let the brain and body rewrite even a fraction of its trauma-- is an immense act of vulnerability. And, my god, so, so, so much trust.

"Each fingertip has more than 3,000 touch receptors, many of which respond primarily to pressure. These are packed in just under the surface of the skin, where each reports events in overlapping fields about one-tenth of an inch across."

Something else I think about, though, is that another phrase for touch-starved is "skin hunger."

To be "starved" is to not receive a necessary thing; to "hunger" is to ache for it.

Stede and Ed's kiss, just before the handhold-- I see hunger in Stede, absolutely.

In the handhold, though, I see him giving Ed the option of this necessary thing; and I see Ed accepting it, receiving it-- and in doing so, sharing that necessary thing back again with Stede, an act of reciprocity that could have been purely social, if they wanted.

But. The slow movements after. The hand overtop the other. And then the thumb war: fingertips walking across one another's skin, one over the other over the other.

Three thousand touch receptors, each activated, each sending signals that they're taking the slow and aching time needed to process and accept.

They're taking the time to stand in that moment, and let the sensations cascade. To not hide it away in some emotional experience other than "I am touching the man I loved, and may love still--

"--and it is safe, it is safe, it is safe."

"The tongue, lips, and fingertips are the most touch-sensitive parts of the body."

And here's where it really comes together, now that you know all that-- here's why I'm feeling feral about this new moonlight scene, here's the thing I need you to know:

To hold hands is as strong a feeling, in pure sensory experience, as it is to kiss. A hand held can be a kiss forestalled.

A hand held can be a kiss all in itself.

And there they were. In the moonlight. Holding hands.

[bettsfic]

Hi betts! Ive been finding your posts really motivating, they make me want to write more and more. So id really appreciate if you could give me advice for this problem!

I just dont know how to revise! Or maybe the problem is that i dont know how to write drafts that need revising.

Basically what happens is that i write a draft as fast and messily as i can. And then i reread it, and i really like it! So when i get around to fixing it up, i end up chopping out things just based off of vibes. And then i read that version, and i hate it! It shows a lot more technical skill for sure, and it coheres a lot more, but i feel that its completely lost its voice and style. I tend to write in fits of emotion, and i feel like any revising outside of that mindset just sort of... strips the text of its sincerity?

Where do i go from here? Its not easy to practice revision when its so disheartening!

When i attempt to write badly, it either turns out good enough that im scared to change it, or bad enough that im not interested in it anymore.

How do i revise a draft without removing the things i like about it? Do i just need to get better at identifying what i like about my work?

that's an interesting situation, anon. i guess my immediate question is, if you like what you write, why do you even want to revise?

in the 50s, the beats popularized this idea of "first thought, best thought," which basically means what goes on the page is what belongs there, and the first words that come to us are the right ones, not because they're good, but because they're first.

for your own purposes, for the sake of discovery, i think this is a great mentality. the process of invention is the purest practice of creativity. you're putting things on a page that weren't there before, and if you're doing that in a way you find satisfying, and if you're pleased with the results, then i think you should keep doing it. it seems to me like your willingness to revise and your ability to say, "no, i liked it better before," will naturally develop into a more dedicated revision practice. eventually you'll write the thing that makes you go, "wait a minute, that's not right," or maybe, "i like this, but it doesn't quite honor the story i want to tell." and those are the seeds of revision.

don't get me wrong, i'm a firm believer in revision. but more than that, i'm a believer in letting your joy guide you in any creative process. revision should feel good. you should want to revise. you may not always be eager to revise, but you should feel strongly enough about the nature of what you're creating that making it better will make you feel better. but if you don't want to revise, then you shouldn't feel obligated to.

still, if you want to get a sense of what revision can do to your work so that you can experiment and grow, i would recommend writing something short, maybe a thousand words or fewer. then put it down for a week, and rewrite it without looking at it again. put that down for a week too. then rewrite it a third time without looking at either previous draft.

when you have all three drafts, try to look at them with a discerning eye. which one overall is best and why? or if you can't tell, go through and highlight all the sentences you like and count them. whichever story has the most highlights wins.

sometimes revision isn't always about making something better. sometimes it's about approaching your work so many different ways that you've conceived all possible angles and chosen the one that's best. sometimes the first thought really is the best thought. but sometimes it's the fifth thought, or the tenth, or one that someone else has to bring to your attention. i think if you broaden your definition of revision to be "considering every way this thing can be written," it'll help guide you toward a process that works for you.

[viridian-artist]

🍬 - if you were in canon, what would the fanbase for your ship be like? for ren or julian, have fun!!

ASK GAME

I'll be answering this question for Ren!

BRIEF DISCLAIMER THAT I SELFSHIP WITH THE CHARACTER AND NOT THE CONTENT CREATOR.

So, my selfship with Ren actually dates back to season nine. I'll start from there and then talk about how it's changed with the current tenth season!! For Season Nine, I feel like, with any "new" Hermit, people would be excited to try and see how many Hermits they can ship with them. When it came to them and Ren specifically? Ohhhhh, tall and short. Dog and bunny. Red and purple.

I think some people would've tried to mischaracterize it a bit during the King Ren arc by trying to push Verna (side note: I do use my name for certain s/is, including my Hermitsona) into being a queen alongside him being king, rewriting the important fact that they have no desire to have any of that power for themself. Verna might also be rewritten by some fans to be more submissive and write out the stubbornness they have as it would be seen as rude to them. For the fans that do acknowledge that stubbornness, they'd use it for angst. (I mean, I do personally so–). Post King Ren arc, that's where I feel like the fan base would gradually shift into generalized agreements over the couple given the HermitEmpires crossover event in which my Hermitsona is also my Empiressona for Season Two and it could make for more softer moments between the two?

By the time Season Ten comes around, I feel like fans would be more accepting of the ship as I know there would be loads of people against it in favor of other ships they feel are "more canon" (still side eyeing the anons that were so rude about me feeling insecure about my selfship a few months ago when Doc was talking about the ship between him and Ren). I think fans would also latch onto the ship more this season due to my Hermitsona going for the vampire aesthetic and leaning into a bit of a Twilight theme? I'd think that by then, it could even be boosted up into being one of the more well known/popular pairings with Ren.

Overall, there would be the fans that would mischaracterize my s/i just to get the ship to fit their views, the ones that are aggressive about it being in the way of their "superior" ship, and those that would like it a lot. I know my friends and I absolutely love the ship, so I'm not too concerned with it.

[barry-j-blupjeans]

@taznovembercelebration - 100 / 3

Lucretia was revising. There wasn't much she could do for the actual retelling of certain situations- whatever she wrote down in the moment was going to be the most accurate- but her grammar and writing style had definitely improved in the last sixty years. And the misspellings, don't even get her started on the misspellings. By this point, most of the earlier journals had been transcribed nine or ten times. Most of the time, she tended to just reformat the formatting of things. She still needed two journals per cycle, at the very least, but she could cram much more into them than she used to now that she knew what she was doing. The first journal was always for the physical aspects of the world, the flora and fauna. The second (which usually led to a third, and then maybe a fourth) was a recount of their year. If warranted, she'd have a third strictly for the civilizations they came across.

She had an important job. If she didn't remember, then who would? If anything, revising was her time to go back through all that had happened. It scared her a little when she read through a journal and realized she didn't remember anything she had written down without prompting. They still didn't exactly know what all went on inside the Hunger. Her journals could be the only thing keeping civilizations alive. It was very possible that their little crew of seven was the only thing in the way of these dozens and dozens of worlds being forgotten completely.

Her door creaked open. Lucretia didn't look up, one hand keeping track of what she needed to transcribe over again, and the other writing.

"Hey," Barry said from behind her.

"Weren't you rewriting this one last week?" came Magnus's voice. She felt a hand on her shoulder and she finally stopped, if only not to smudge the ink. Magnus leaned over her, squinting at the journal. She turned to see Barry sitting down on her bed, leaning back against the wall.

Lucretia had a lot of time this cycle. She had a lot of time in general, for a human, but this cycle seemed to make it go by much slower. The atmosphere here was fine when Barry and Lup had run their tests, but the second Merle had stepped into it, he had started coughing and wheezing, and never stopped. They stayed close to the ship for a while, after that, but they still had a mission to do. Davenport had been able to breathe just fine, but the grass had given him a terrible rash, which transformed into ugly blisters overnight that never had the chance to heal.

And Taako and Lup… Lucretia glanced at Barry, who had closed his eyes and leaned his head back. Lucretia didn't want to think about what had happened to Taako and Lup. But the same principle applied. If Lucretia wouldn't remember, who would? She didn't want to put that pressure on Barry or Magnus, or anyone. They had too much on their plates already.

The world was fine for humans, at least. She still woke up expecting to see one of the only two crew members she had left dead. She was trying not to let herself think about it too much. There had never been a cycle where only one of them remained and Lucretia sorely hoped that it would never come to be.

"Yeah," Lucretia said. "I'm fixing it."

"Was the first one bad?" Magnus asked, plucking up the original journal from her desk. A younger Lucretia would have reached for it back, and he would have kept it away like a two player rip off of monkey in the middle. Now, she just sighed, leaning back in her hair. Magnus used her head like another desk. "What is this, cycle three? It's not that bad."

"That's because it's the tenth rewrite of it," Lucretia said.

"Dang!" Magnus said. "And you still spelled "gullible" wrong."

"I'm not falling for that one again," Lucretia said. Magnus laughed and snapped the book shut, dropping into into her lap. He rested even heavier against her shoulders. A younger Lucretia also would have been uncomfortable here. But sixty years of being in close quarters with, possibly, the most physically affectionate person she had ever known, had given her a lot of endurance. If anything, the weight of Magnus against her was a nice reminder that she wasn't alone. Yet, at least.

"Did you need something?" Lucretia asked after a few moments of silence. Magnus hmmed at her, playing with the buttons on her robe. Barry remained silent. She thought he might have actually fallen asleep, but she couldn't see passed Magnus's shoulders.

"Just, y'know, some quality Lucretia time," Magnus said. "Gotta get my hours in."

"Well, I can't fault you for that," Lucretia said.

After a moment, Magnus retracted himself from her, and she opened her journal back up. She looked back when her bed squeaked to find that Magnus had laid himself back down into it. Barry, who was apparently still awake, moved his legs to give Magnus room. Magnus reached out for him anyway, trapping one of Barry's legs on the top of his chest, an arm wrapped around it, as if that were a normal thing to do. For his part, Barry didn't look too uncomfortable. He simply offered Magnus his other leg. Lucretia was reminded of the time Taako had offered to break her left arm in cycle thirty-six, so it could be even with her already broken left arm.

They continued on in relative silence, though Magnus started humming after a few minutes, fidgeting with the edges of Barry's jeans. Or Lup's jeans that she had stolen from Barry that he had just stolen back, if the flames embroidered on the cuffs were anything to go by. Lucretia picked her pen back up and began to write again. She was about half way through her recount of cycle three, on the five entire paragraphs she had devoted on describing Merle eating an incredibly stinky fruit, for science. Well, he had said it was for science, but she caught him eating another one when Taako and Lup weren't even around to see his reaction.

"I'm a hundred and twelve," Barry said.

Lucretia paused, her pen hovering above the page. She turned to look back at them. Magnus shifted in bed.

"That's wild," Magnus said. "I'm…" he let go of Barry's legs and started counting on his hands.

"Eighty one," Lucretia said. "On a technicality."

"Fuck that's old," Magnus said. He patted his face, as if he was expecting to suddenly find wrinkes. "I don't feel eighty one. But I don't, uh, I don't exactly feel twenty one anymore, either. Luce, you're… eighty?"

"Seventy-nine," Lucretia corrected. "Going by year, at least."

"I always forget you two are just babies," Barry said.

"Excuse you, I'm eighty-one," Magnus said. Barry swatted him on the shoulder, not looking too amused at that. Barry hadn't looked amused about a lot of things since Lup died this cycle. He had his hands resting in his lap and he wasn't looking at them.

"But like, when I was nineteen, I didn't know fuck all about anything," Barry said. "I thought that the biggest problem I had was that someone might notice I wore the same shirt three days in a row. I didn't- like no offense to either of you, but nineteen and twenty-one is so fucking young. I know you're not, anymore, not really, but I still can't believe that you- that it's-"

Barry took a deep breath and let it out shakily. Magnus reached for his hand this time, and Barry took it.

"Sorry," he said, wiping his eyes with his remaining hand. "We've been doing this for over half my regular lifetime, I don't know how y'all can still cope with how long it's taking. I'm over a hundred. Men in my family don't usually reach over eighty, like- that's wild, right? I feel like I'm cheating."

"I mean, technically you are still fifty two," Magnus said. "Just, y'know, not your brain."

"Well, yeah, I'd be super dead by now," Barry said. "I just… I don't know. I've been thinking about it a lot, I guess. We don't exactly, uh, know how long this is gonna last, but if we do get to the end of the Hunger and we're all still kickin' then I- I mean, I don't have a lot of time left. I don't wanna say we're lucky, but it's not something we're used to. Especially not as humans. I mean, Taako and Lup-" Barry's voice cracked on Lup's name. He cleared his throat. "Taako and Lup have been alive for way longer than we've been doing this. Dav and Merle, too. But we're just- it's been a while, out here."

"I get it," Lucretia said. "It doesn't feel right."

"I try not to think about that," Magnus said. "'Cus then it will feel kind of wrong. But like, we're here anyway? I'd love to punch the Hunger out of existence or whatever, but thinking about after makes me kinda sick, I guess. But we're doing a lot of things we shouldn't be able to do anyway, so I guess what I'm trying to say is like… I don't care how old I techincally am, because I'm not counting this. Yeah, I've lived my lifespan like, three times over, but I'm still kickin'. I can't- I don't wanna think about it. It makes me sad."

"Sorry," Barry said. Magnus shrugged. "I just- sometimes I can't not think about it."

"Because of Lup?" Lucretia asked quietly. Magnus stilled, grimacing. Barry nodded, looking toward the door, and then the ceiling, and anywhere else he could avoid her gaze.

"Yeah," he said. "'Cus of Lup. Again, I don't wanna say we're lucky-"

"We are," Magnus interrupted. "We coulda been swallowed by the Hunger and been like, digested into evilness or something-"

"I'm pretty sure that's not-"

"But we weren't," Magnus said. "We just- we're here. We've had a lot of chances that we almost fucked up, and a lot more that we did fuck up, but that doesn't mean we're not lucky. Like, Lup wouldn't have looked twice at you if you hadn't been on this mission-"

"I know," Barry said, looking a little conflicted.

"And it's not a bad thing!" Magnus said. "But- ugh, Lucretia, words?"

"We're lucky because we have time?" Lucretia said and Magnus nodded, sitting up a little. Barry's feet fell into his lap. "I think I get what you're trying to say. I really do get how it's awful that we have to do this, and that it feels wrong, because we- the three of us, specifically- we're not supposed to live this long. But Magnus is right, I think. We are- we are really lucky. And we shouldn't be thinking about the what if's, because we can't really know what will happen, or when something will happen. We just have time. And it's a bad thing, but it's a good thing. If that makes sense."

"Kinda?" Barry said. "I think? I just… it's hard to be okay with it."

"You don't have to be," Magnus said. "I'm not okay with it. But I'm here. We're here. Mostly 'cus this planet doesn't hate our guts or whatever-" Barry snorted. Lucretia cracked a small smile. "But we're here. And whatever comes after, we'll deal with after. But we're lucky. And I think it's okay to think that."

"We're lucky," Barry repeated, as if trying it out.

"We're lucky," Lucretia said. She pushed the journals for cycle three aside, and found the one for this cycle.

They were lucky. She had to remember that.

[cresvalkyrie]

Giving you full reigns to ramble about ur rejuv au :3

Hey R!!! :0

So for your ask, I'll talk about what's changed since the rejuv 13.5 update. I know I said that I wasn't planning on retconning stuff for the chroniclerverse with v13.5 update but... it's honestly just so good that I have to retcon the new lore into it. I will regret it for the rest of my life if I didn't.

Now the chroniclerverse has a time loop, separated into major and minor cycles. Major cycles is comparable to the game's version updates, and including 13.5 there are a total of fourteen major cycles so far. Minor cycles are like when we start a new game to make a different set of choices, and this one we have no way of keeping count because there's just too many of it. After the disastrous end of the thirteenth cycle, Hauyne gained some control over the time passage of the minor cycles, allowing her to turn back short periods of time at the cost of her stamina. As of the end of .karma files (paragon), she can reverse time back a week at most for three times before collapsing from exhaustion.

Hauyne also has some retcons in design, now including the scars on her left eye (her backstory was revised too) and her physical age has now increased from 16 to 19. She still has the 16 year old look during the thirteenth cycle (aka the first versions of her design that you all are familiar with) because of some things going wrong when Crescent resurrected her into the Black Box vessel, causing her to regress physically in order to conserve her strength. This problem is not present in the fourteenth run, so she was able to regain her original appearance as a young adult instead of the child-like appearance she has as a 16 year old.

Not only that, Hauyne used to have hosts in the previous runs up to the thirteenth, which is when she had enough strength to retain a body of her own instead of having to borrow her deceased classmate's. The first two runs, she had Aevis as a host, then Aevia for the third and fourth, followed by Axel in the fifth and sixth, Ariana in the seventh and eighth, Aero for the ninth and tenth, and finally Alain for the eleventh and twelfth cycles. Only in the thirteenth cycle did she have enough influence on the world for her to keep her own body instead of possessing someone else's. It gets wacky since she also inadvertently inherits the memories of her hosts, which also stacks up with her own extensive memories considering her chronological age is currently somewhere in the 650s if you include the time gap between Storm-9 and the events of rejuv.

Aaaand... in the fourteenth cycle, Crescent is a Cresselia. I know people are going to kill me for this, especially with her backstory reveal in .karma files paragon, but honestly there's a reason why I made Hauyne's story into an AU and not a canon rewrite/divergence.

Also, there's way more lore about the aura wielders now, and I'm hoping to explore that side of the AU with sleepy in rp sometime soon. Gotta love a cousin bonding session where they re-discover their ancestral roots sjdkfhksjfhkdsf

[lacependragon]

Once again consumed by the unending annoyance and rage at people caring more about a pair of fictional women kissing (badly animated, at that, it's so fucking stiff) over the treatment of real-life people who are actually, really suffering. Who have been harmed and abused. Who continue to struggle.

Oh, and if it's not the fictional women, it's the bird man.

Like. You'd rather support a sexist, ableist, racist, transphobic, cunty organization and throw them your money eagerly and willingly, while pretending they aren't horrible, to continue being this horrible, all over a pair of fictional women kissing than support trans and queer creators.

When canon is created by a bunch of prejudiced chucklefucks you take the canon FROM THEM and make your OWN while arguing that they need to PAY THEIR FUCKING WORKERS.

Go read your fucking fanfiction! God knows none of you write it. Or else you wouldn't whine so hard about creators taking too long.

"But all shows are like that."

I don't care. I don't buy Spiderverse merch. I don't buy RWBY merch. And I certainly don't beg for a shitty organization to greenlight another season of a show made by shitty people just so I can watch them abuse and belittle and fire everyone ELSE on their crew who ISN'T a fucking freelancer or contract worker.

Write a fucking fanfiction and stop acting like a show who keeps firing EVERYONE WHO CARES ABOUT IT is actually good enough to "justify" (no such thing) the massive harm and hatred of queer and trans people within the workspace, the livelihoods destroyed, and the careers forever tossed aside.

There is no CRWBY.

The writing is shit.

And more importantly: real people are getting hurt.

Write a fucking fanfiction. Stop using the fucking V10 hashtag. And remember that real world people are suffering and that if you condone this suffering, you are shitty.

Writing fic and drawing fanart is great! But seriously you chucklefucks drop the fucking tag.

No show, especially one that is:

fatphobic (only villainous or perverted characters are fat)

colourist & racist (all dark skinned characters are villainous or die, with the exception of fucking EMERALD and Oscar, but we have Hazel, Arthur, and Sienna to start)

ableist (no one is allowed to go without prosthetics, scars exist only for vibes, disability is never given a nuanced discussion, demonization of mental illness, not to mention the entirety of Ruby's storyline in V9)

queerphobic (toxic masculinity is everywhere, Ren's basically the only guy allowed to be remotely feminine, the obnoxious lack of queer men on screen due to RT's well-documented homophobia)

or sexist (yeah you'd think it wouldn't be, but when you consider the amount of V9 that is focused on Jaune at the detriment of focusing on the TITULAR CHARACTER'S MENTAL HEALTH, and considering this isn't the first time, I'm calling it)

...should have this much of a stranglehold on people's lives! It's not fucking worth it!

I love RWBY. I have loved RWBY since the Red Trailer. Those four girls mean a lot to me. I also acknowledge that it is full of fucking flaws that I work very hard to overcome and rewrite in my fanfics.

So, do like me:

Write a fucking fanfiction.

It's better than the show's actual writing, these days, anyway. And this doesn't hurt real life people who RT continues to harm just because, I dunno, they fucking can?

Anyway I'm disappointed in people. You can want V10 without using the hashtag. You can want V10 while speaking up about how people are mistreated and you don't want it to continue. You can want V10 and be happy to wait.

But if you prioritize the tenth season of a fictional web show over fixing the problems within the company, both specifically and as a whole, that are destroying people's lives, then you're just a loser.

Just a fucking internet loser.

[merrilark]

20 questions for fic writers

Thanks for tagging me, @i-seeaspaceshipinthe-sky!!

1.how many works do you have on ao3?

Only 2 after I purged and changed my username. I used to have around 10 or 12, I think, but I was embarrassed by my writing and deleted them. Sorta regret doing that. :x

2.what's your total ao3 word count?

1,044! They're both quick one-shots.

3.what fandoms do you write for?

The fics before I deleted everything were mostly Doctor Who and Sherlock. The two there now are for Bad Samaritan. Fics I'm currently working on are for Doctor Who, Misfits, Bad Samaritan, The Umbrella Academy, Red Riding, and Wanted: Dead or Alive.

4.what are your top 5 fics by kudos?

LOL. Well, seeing as I only have two still up, my most kudos'd fic is my Whumptober prompt fill focused on Sean. :)

Before I deleted everything, though, I'd say that my most kudos'd fic was a Doctor Who AU where Rose met Simm!Master. It was also, now that I think about it, 90% whump.

5.do you respond to comments? why or why not?

Always! I love chatting with other people. :)

6.what is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Not posted yet, but it will almost certainly be my Bad End AU for Bad Samaritan in which Cale does actually kill Katie and Sean becomes Cale's new project.

7.what is the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Deleted this one, too, but it was a slice of life kind of fic about the Tenth Doctor and Rose going out for chips before heading off on their next big adventure. Fluff and silliness all around. Maybe one day I'll rewrite it.

8.do you get hate on any fics?

No, but I did get a weird comment on a Teen Titan fic where someone started talking as if their OC was part of my fic, then began roleplaying with themselves in my comments. It was really weird lol

9.do you write smut? if so, what kind?

I dooooo, but I'm too shy to post it. Maybe one day. Usually the smut I write is pretty emotionally charged, whether it's happy emotions or sad/angry/whatever... I'm not often too interested in writing PWP (or at least, not to post lol)

10.do you write crossovers? what's the craziest one you've written?

I loooooove crossovers. I haven't written too many crazy ones, though. I guess the most tonally jarring one would be a Doctor Who/Red Riding or Doctor Who/Bad Samaritan WIP I tossed around for a little bit before deciding that it was more fun for me to think about than actually write.

11.have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I'm aware of!

12.have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope!

13.have you ever co-written a fic before?

A few times! One I love the most is an Umbrella Academy fic that was supposed to pick up immediately after S2. Me and my friend had planned on finishing it and posting before S3 but life got busy and it's back in WIP hell.

14.what's your all time favorite ship?

I'm too much of a shipper to answer this question LOL. I can't possibly pick just one.

15.what's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

All of them. D: I simply cannot get over the fear of being bad or boring. It's like hitting a brick wall every time I try to finish or post.

16.what are your writing strengths?

People have told me that I'm pretty good at understanding the psychology of characters that I write and that makes me happy. It's my favorite thing to sink my teeth into.

17.what are your writing weaknesses?

Pacing is hard for me, and just getting plots out onto the page is hard. I know what I want, but getting a character from point A to point B in an interesting way is like pulling teeth. Which is insane because that's such a necessary thing lol

18.thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

No opinion! Write what you want.

19.first fandom you wrote for?

LOL probably Sonic the Hegehog when I was 9.

20.favorite fic you've written?

Unfortunately I do not have one. :x

Most of my favorite writing has been with other people through roleplay. I think that's where my writing creativity tends to shine. It's just a little sad it's not something I can easily share with others.

---

Tagging! @salvador-daley, @jozstankovich, @crabstick, @elliethesuperfruitlover, and I am totally blanking rn so actually anyone who wants to! sdkfls sorry! long day

[leareadsheresy]

Horus Rising Part 1: The Deceived

This post contains spoilers for the The Deceived, the first part (and approximately the first half) of Horus Rising by Dan Abnett, first published as a novel on (as nearly as I can tell) April 6th, 2006. This is all material I've read years ago, so I can't provide fresh eyes on it. However, that also means I've been thinking about it for a while.

I considered doing a plot summary but I'm not going to; it was taking too long to type. So. It's immediately obvious what Abnett is doing here with the dramatic irony -- the first line of the book is "I was there when Horus slew the Emperor" and the book remarks of the Justaerin lead by Ezekyle Abaddon that they seem to be of a different, black Legion, etc. -- but I have to remember that this was published in April 2006, during Warhammer 40k 4th Edition. The Horus Heresy wouldn't be its own game until October 2012, six and a half years later. He is laying it on thick because doing a pseudo-historical book series where the whole point is you know where things will end up and the drama and tension stem from how it'll get there still feels novel; it doesn't yet feel assumed.

I do want to call to attention one specific passage, though, early in the book, that is significant to me:

"Except that for all its martial technologies, the enemy lacked one essential quality, and that quality was locked within each and every case of Mark IV power armour: the genetically enhanced flesh and blood of the Imperial Astartes. Modified, refined, post-human, the Astartes were superior to anything they had met or would ever meet."

Around the same time I first read this book I also read Guy Haley's Dark Imperium, the first version before the rewrite to bring it into line with the revised 9th edition 40k timeline. There is a similar passage early in the first edition of that book introducing Primaris Space Marines, which says clearly that the first generation Space Marines are hopelessly outclassed and made obsolete by the Primaris. Reading those two passages in close proximity made it viscerally clear that Black Library, GW's publishing arm, is ultimately all just ads for whatever miniatures they're trying to sell at the moment. This is something I'd been aware of before then, but the juxtaposition of those two passages really drove it home. (The Dark Imperium rewrite removed that passage in favor of something that says there's effectively no difference between Firstborn and Primaris anymore.)

Anyway, I'd also like to draw attention to the way Loken's squad seems to have a dedicated plasma gunner; since Heresy isn't its own game yet, Dan Abnett seems to be writing the Luna Wolves as fighting with M.41-era tactical squads. Though given that Loken is First Captain of the Tenth, you could read that as just being a command squad thing. The book also talks about Devastator Squads instead of heavy support. This isn't important but it's kind of funny, in an "Oh, of course they hadn't figured that out yet" way.

I think the book handles reasonably well that the Imperium of Man are implicitly villainous, while stepping back a bit from fully addressing it. The setup is that the 63rd expeditionary fleet arrives at 63-19 to discover a flourishing human civilization and send a peace envoy to negotiate Compliance, who the emperor of the planet has executed out of turn for saying something offensive. The fleet then sends a force of Space Marines to attack the planetary capital and decapitate the civilization's government. The locals bring up the issue of "Why couldn't you just leave us alone?" but, like, dudes you killed their diplomatic envoy out of hand; what did you think would happen? On the other hand, it's made clear that leaving them alone really wasn't an option -- even if the locals hadn't executed the visiting diplomat and had merely politely requested that the fleet leave, the options were always surrender or war, and this is being presented as A Problem… but the execution of the envoy provides moral justification of the invasion so the audience isn't forced to confront the Imperium being fully villainous right away.

Something I didn't notice when I read this the first time, but which stands out now, is that this part of the book is literally called The Deceived. I think my eyes just skimmed over that title page years ago. The subject of this part of the book is the way everyone relates to Horus, a character who does not get a point-of-view section and who's clearly flattering everyone around him at all times; everyone loves him because he seems to love and value everyone. One of the common complaints about False Gods and definitely one I felt when reading it was that it has Horus slide into treachery too quickly, but in light of specifically this section's title, I think that maybe makes me like what I remember of False Gods more? Horus is already deceiving everyone. One influence on me here is Arbiter Ian's videos where he makes the argument that the Heresy couldn't have worked if the Warmaster hadn't been at least planning for something like it as a possibility for long before the events of this book -- he was clearly moving people and materiel around for a scenario like this for decades. On my first read I think I assumed the book was being coy about it but was leaning towards Horus still being loyal at this time so his treachery would be more tragic later; on my second read, it seems like Horus is already a secret traitor and is playing everyone, which might make False Gods less jarring… but I do think makes this one somewhat less interesting. I would much rather read a book about a mostly-loyal Horus turning traitor than an already-traitor Horus setting his plan in motion. The book is trying to eat its cake and have it, too.

(I said some mean things about Horus Heresy YouTube Lore Explainers earlier, but Arbiter Ian's great, and his historiographic approach to Warhammer fiction is consistently interesting.)

I do not like the way Samus and warp daemons and Space Marine possession are handled, I think for two reasons, one substantial and one petty.

Here's the petty reason: Samus has a series of catchphrases he whispers in peoples' ears before possessing someone and murdering their friends, and some of those catchphrases are effective while others are fuckin' weaksauce. "Look out! Samus is here" is not a scary catch phrase for a daemon. "Samus will gnaw on your bones" is also pretty blunt. "Samus is the man beside you" is great understated horror, but the way his creepy whisper is structured, it starts strong and gets weaker and ends on its weakest point. It really, really diffuses the tension Abnett is trying to set up.

Here's the substantial reason: If you're going to do a book series where one of the plot points is Space Marines and Imperial civilians raised in the radical atheism of the Imperial Truth, totally convinced there's no such thing as gods or spirits or supernatural forces, first encountering daemons and warp possession and having their view of the universe shattered, it is no good to set it when someone higher up can immediately show up and go "Oh yeah we totally know about those already but it's a secret; don't tell anyone daemons are real, also, this is just like those other times you fought possessed people who just happened not to be space marines, remember?" And granted it's Horus who provides that explanation but it's too obvious -- if he's jerking Loken around, he should have been able to present an alternate take on things that both left Loken more reassured while leaving the audience wondering whether Horus knows more than he's saying or not, instead of just immediately telling the truth in a way that reassures us the Astartes aren't actually facing an outside context problem, don't worry, we've totes got context for this. Like, the book sets up a really interesting source of drama and immediately diffuses it, like Samus's whispered chat in macrocosm. And that kinda relates to what I said above about Horus already being a secret traitor: This is the wrong point in the Heresy to start the Heresy novel series. A better version of this story would have had Samus's possession of Xayver Jubal be a more jarring, less explicable event, with Samus himself being creepier, and set Horus himself earlier along on his development towards treason.

That said, the Horus Heresy wasn't originally planned to be a 64-volume series. GW originally greenlit three books: Horus Rising, False Gods, and Galaxy in Flames. In light of that it's clear why they jumped right into Horus's, uh, heresy. But the book is shooting for two different goals and falling just short of each.

(There's also the arguable issue that it's hard for warp fuckery to be a truly outside-context problem for the Astartes, given how much warp fuckery they had to face up against during the Unification Wars, but you could even use that -- if the Unification Wars were two hundred plus years ago and knowledge of warp fuckery had been suppressed in the name of the Imperial Truth, then ancient stories of Astartes fighting things like this coming up in the wake of Samus's massacre could be a way to establish the horror of the situation. Later on the book goes into the warrior lodges, secret societies where Space Marines are encourated to speak freely to each other outside the boundaries of rank and regulation -- the book could have had old stories of daemonic possession come out there, while being suppressed outside of the lodge meetings.)

Anyway those are my thoughts on Horus Rising Part 1: The Deceived. Subsequent entries to this blog will probably be shorter than this. This took a long time to compose.

[gayandbifiremenofmine]

Okay, since I'm free tomorrow I'll be reading Hold Steady, Hold Steady for the probably tenth time this night

It's a fic where, after Eddie announced he was leaving the 118, Buck met an entity that sends him to an alternative universe where he's still a probie and nothing of the things we see on the show happened yet. You could say it's a canon rewrite, but Buck's knowledge of the future both helps and makes things worse for him.

I absolutely love this fic, it made me cry so so so hard. There's also a sequel that covers 5b, and it's still extremely amazing.

Both fics are well written and thought out, so if you're still on the vibe for a alternative universe with all the hurt and comfort you can have, that's a good fic for you!