#While there are a ton of songs in the series & you can get a basic understanding of most of the events that happen through listening to them

[hambambi]

hello there :) could you perhaps leave an ask in my inbox and tell me where the song in question in this poll https://www.tumblr.com/hambambi/765605610609852416?source=share is?

I usually don't mind waiting for the reveal nor the guess work but this one has me so stumped that I've spend 2 hours combing through various soundtracks I thought could fit just to find it

Hi! I'm so sorry that I'm just now seeing this ask because Tumblr isn't notifying me about any new notifications recently. 🙇‍♂️ I don't know if you already found out where the song is from but if you haven't it's from a collab event in the mobile rhythm & gacha game called Project Sekai: Colorful Stage. It's a collaboration between the game and Mothy-P's Aku no Taizai (The Deadly Sins of Evil) series, which is a part of the Evillious Chronicles series. The event contained songs from the series, a gacha with cards of six of the characters from the series (played by the Vocaloids Miku, Rin, Len, Luka, Kaito, & Meiko), and a sekai where those characters can appear in. The song is actually the area bgm of the sekai!

If you like rhythm games and/or vocaloid music, then I do recommend the game as it's pretty fun and they have a wide range of songs to play. It is also a gacha game though, and while I don't think the gacha mechanic is as bad compared to other games (coming from someone who is a casual free-to-play player, but is mainly more interested in the vocaloids and a few other characters), it's understandable if that's a deal breaker for you.

If you're not really interested in the game but are open to listening to vocaloid music, then Evillious Chronicles has a lot of good songs listen to. The two most popular songs from the series are The Daughter of Evil and The Servant of Evil. I linked them below if you want to give them a listen

[taegularities]

ruin you: reflections | kth

Summary: Sometimes, you really refuse to truly leave, don't you?

⋙ pairing: Taehyung x female reader ⋙ rating: 18+ ⋙ genre: exes? au; angst, bit of fluff ⋙ warnings: rain and sadness, nostalgia, a phone call, the L-word, memories, sleeping jungkook cameo lol, this is original ry!oc and a!oc isn't in the picture yet – so basically a prequel to ruined and sequel to the ry finale hehe ⋙ word count: 4.3k ⋙ a/n: i know it's been years and we're possibly over this series now bc so much happened on taegularities dot com after it finished, buuuut.. i was listening to only love by pvris the other day and i ALWAYS think of ry!tae when the song comes on lmao. anyway, enjoy this little thing that i totally did not ever expect to drop in 2k25 :') come talk to me about it <3

⁂ part of the ruin you series 

⁂ playlist 🎶

MASTERLIST | WIPS

This is barely what a promising spring Thursday is supposed to be.

The relentless winter lasted for ages already, and now it’s unseasonably cold, too. Not that Taehyung minds a harmless sprinkle, drizzling onto him as though to kiss his skin. But the coat is a little too thin and his umbrella nowhere near.

He could rush home and dive into some woollen blanket. Could fetch himself his favourite tea, sweetened with some honey, waiting for the last day of the week to break in. But the weekend is around the corner anyway, and he doesn’t leave on them much at all these days.

After work, at least, just like right now, he has an excuse to hide from his apartment for a while. It’s easier to walk around when already active; much more facile to carry himself back to this tiny park than when he’s at home, cosy and alone, tired and bitter.

Not everything is bad, though: Jungkook’s attitude towards Taehyung has long returned to what it used to be; albeit somehow, Taehyung can’t shake the feeling that in some sense, unspoken tension still lingers that neither of them will ever full be able to erase.

Taehyung smirks. Of course not.

You were in the absolute middle with them at far ends of the scale. Only, in truth, it wasn’t the perfect middle at all — you were leaning towards one decision so clearly. Turned left and right, but then chose the obvious direction.

For your sake, you settled on happiness, pure, unfiltered love that you knew and still know to be true. Taehyung wanted this for you.

But it’s ironic how you’re seemingly so whole, but left him stranded here in little shards that he glued together as if reuniting estranged puzzle pieces. And the ones he still hasn’t found, you took with you.

He wonders.

What do you do with them? Store them in your memory, reliving moments, or are they hidden somewhere in the back of your thoughts, not enjoying the relevance that you still so obviously do in his head?

Taehyung doesn’t move just yet. It’ll get colder once it’s dark, and the early April spring weather will do whatever it wants to. It won’t be gentle to him today, he reckons.

But he still stays seated here, just to take in the world, breathe in the breeze. His apartment is warm but stuffy. A blissful sanctuary that’s surrounded by invisible bars sometimes. He doesn’t know how to feel about this.

It’s hard to figure out emotions anyway.

He’s over a ton, but not quite all of it. A number of all that occurred still wreaks havoc in his brain, still a burning chaos and source of damned ruination. He doesn’t understand how to feel about most of his days.

And the wind, the dense grey clouds. The rain.

Or the feeling of the drops landing on his hand, running down his thumb when he turns his palm to the sky and it catches the rain. With each second, the pace picks up a bit more, and more and more raindrops touch his skin.

His long digits curl in; strands of his hair stick to his forehead and water drips off his nose and chin. Eyes close. He knew it’d be pouring, but he forgot how intense the universe can actually get. This is quite dramatic.

It’s been a while since it rained like this, too. It did a lot in his apartment, too.

He breathes in, lifting his head for a second, up to the sky and to the falling shower. The colours are far from vibrant and optimistic, but they don’t feel as hopeless as they could be. Maybe nature doesn’t mean to feel sad to others.

Or maybe because there are worse places to be. Right? Wait, why?

Because they hurt less? No, probably not. The pain sits in the middle of his chest, not just at a particular location. Or maybe…

Maybe this is a moment that he can somewhat learn to cherish because of the fingers slowly opening his own. Suddenly but carefully touching his palm. That’s strange, isn’t it?

Would it be weirder if it was a stranger? Or is it crazier that it’s somebody entirely else when he lifts his eyelids again, staring down to his hand and to what grazes him. To who grazes him.

He could swear you weren’t here before. Your smiling, soaking wet self, head tilting when he comes to look at you. The silver shines into his eyes, and he remembers. Remembers the earrings you’d always wear, sporting them when the three of you found a pleasant café or spent your evening bickering over ludo.

Taehyung looks at you. Looks at you carefully, just to ensure it’s you. You’re timid at first; this is your expression, alright. So distinctively you. How your eyes drift down when he gulps; and how you blink, your smile a tiny bit unsure.

Taehyung remains as mute as he hates to be, and eventually, you start with, “Hi.”

It takes another second of embarrassing shock. Then, “Hey… hey.”

He uprights himself, shifting on his spot, his coat stuck beneath him. Staring at the hand, he never closes his fingers around your warm skin; no matter how tempting, it’d be wrong, wouldn’t it?

So what are you doing? Why are you doing it; where did you appear from? It has been a while since he basked in your presence at all… so what’s going on?

“I, uh… I was,” you start, dampening your already glistening lips; he misses them like a bitch, “out and saw you here.” You look around; the area is blurred to Taehyung. “What are you doing?”

“…What are you doing?” Taehyung doesn’t mean to blurt it out like this, but his tongue doesn’t practice restraint at all. He snaps back into the moment, feet firm on the ground. Clearing his throat, he tells you, “It’s pouring.”

“So it is. But I’m not made of sugar.”

“You will get a cold.”

You roll your eyes. The audacity; the corner of his lips twitches up. “You’re not immune to these things either, you know, Tae? Being sick will hurt you, too.”

Now he surrenders; snickers a bit. Slick trait of yours, being this charming without realising it. Guess that has always made you desirable to others; you make people feel comfortable.

And it’s torture, how you’re still you. When he knew you better, you’d blabber such things, too. How sickness aches, how the cold leads to heat. You’d be surprised if you knew just how sick he’s been, and just how much the million passed seconds hurt.

God, if the flicker of guilt didn’t spark in him, he’d probably tread through this moment easier, too, relish the rush of hormones speeding through him. This is odd. Not what he expected from your first conversation after so long.

Breathing out an unsuspicious sigh, he finally pulls his hand back a little, just for the sake of appearing natural, and then asks, “How have you been?”

You give yourself a moment to ponder. A strange expression, as if you’re somewhat bewildered. As if your body isn’t yours and as if you’ve beamed in from another reality, differing from whatever you’re experiencing now.

Somehow, you look just slightly like a stranger now, and skilled, you dodge the question like one, too, when you blurt without a notice, “If… I told you that I was sorry… and that I wanted this to be forever—”

What?

He’s gone miles with you; way too far to ever justify. You were the one to pull away. So why is it that you’re this brave now? As if having come to a realisation that you’re attempting to share; that he is gradually trying to duck from.

“Don’t.”

The word leaves him in a whisper, cost him the day’s leftover energy. But you shake your head, gripping his hand again, and insist, “Please let me say it.”

He thinks you’re about to break, water collecting; and a moment later, strangely, your eyebrows kiss. Match his assumption. You utter, just quietly, “I wanted it to be forever… It’s dumb to say that because I can’t have two of these.” You wait again. Bring up a hand, cup his cheek until he meets your damp eyes. “And I’m sorry.”

Sorry… you’re sorry. He is, too. He doesn’t know what for. Or maybe he does — but he has apologised. He has made peace with his mistakes, even if not with the goddamn distance.

So this is… excruciating.

And for a moment, the emotions heighten, as if he’s hyper aware of what you’re feeling. A weird sadness floods him, mixed with his own. He’s on the opposite side of this misery, trapped in something entirely different than you.

But.

He still sees your heart so clearly, as if he was holding it, reading inscriptions. Scars. And he can almost touch, almost imagine the affection you house for him so vividly. What did you? Objectify your feelings and hand them to him?

Maybe something occurred; something celestial, a change in the world. Because he could swear he can read your mind — because you seem to cooperate with each of his thoughts. With how you touch his chin next, eyes glassy. Or how you inhale, as if tormented by something.

He can foresee it all before you do it. Maybe he’s come to know you this well. But the realisation that comes to him next is far more daunting.

Because, in these seconds of confusion, the surroundings changed and the moments changed, far too long but too short, too. Time feels nonlinear and nonexistent. How does he know what’s going to happen?

It’s easy to figure out, isn’t it? He should know. But how could he… even as a human being, a brain has the ability to trick him.

He knows because he’s telling his mind himself, isn’t he? Bending reality, deep in his unconsciousness. He isn’t here, and you aren’t here, and in truth, you’re just a figment of his imagination, a piece of what he conjures.

Just as you have been for the past months.

As the moment lingers and stretches, and then vanishes, Taehyung finds himself slowly pulling out of this fake memory. Wakes in the bed he’s probably already slept a dent into. And as clarity arrives, he realises that it isn’t Thursday, but Friday fading into Saturday morning.

He recalls thinking of little somethings before going to bed. How Thursdays were your favourite day of the week because they nearly introduced the weekend, and that Friday itself was never actually as relaxing as one might think due to all the traffic and the weekend chaos.

It was random yapping and it barely made any sense to Taehyung. But you had seemed to have it thought through, and you spoke about it confidently. Even when sometimes, you struggled to make your thoughts transparent effectively; but that was rare, really.

If anything, he was the one worse at this. You, as the experienced teacher in your trio, knew to win their hearts by a couple of thought out words only.

Honestly, today he thinks you liked Thursdays just because they were the shortest, most effortless days at school.

Taehyung sits up, half a smile at his face as he imagines your excitement about leaving the institution. You’d use many Thursday afternoons to indulge in hobbies or to ask Taehyung to join you for a round of chess because you both liked the game.

He was never competitive, but you were. But you both knew to entertain each other. Sometimes, you did feel like a mirror to him, as if he was staring at his reflection.

Both of you knew what to say; when to say it.

Taehyung ruffles through his messy hair. It’s gotten longer; changed along with the world. But why is this feeling in his stomach still the same? Why is he still trying to relive what was? He should probably set his priorities straight; his brain is a mischievous traitor.

As he clicks his tongue, light breaks through the dark night. The phone on his nightstand beams when a random notification chimes. He grabs it, sighs at the G-Mail thing leading to some Reddit post. Then, checks the time.

Or, passes some time. He doesn’t know yet; he won’t fall asleep right away. Might scroll for a bit.

Cruel, how he’s here thinking of you, all weird and still nostalgic, and you’re probably sound asleep. Dreaming about anything but him. 

At least that’s what he’d suppose now. You don’t ever message him, never call. He’s aware that you still have his number, and that he hasn’t deleted yours, either. Both of you still follow each other on social media, too.

Just today, you posted a picture of a cat, nestled in some woman’s arms as your hand petted it. The stranger was mentioned in a corner; probably a coworker. Taehyung didn’t check. He feels creepy enough as it is.

But you still see his rare stories as well; when he decides to upload an orange sunset or reposts his friends’ stuff. These days barely ever occur anymore, but whenever they do, you see them.

Yet, no comment. No reaction. Just looking quietly, just like he does.

He wonders. If it was him who called or said hi, would you respond? You have turned into a fleeting and transient ghost of the past — but would you become a temporary presence if he reached out?

If he… if he scrolled down to your name and pressed the call button right now, would you…

No.

If he gave in now, you’d probably not even notice, and he’d interpret it as you ignoring him. And he’d overthink. It’d backfire. And…

But…

Fuck.

Damn the human mind. Taehyung questions — is it a common problem? A painfully humane one, wanting ideas to be realised once they emerge? Stupid compulsive urge. Why? So he can sleep?

No, probably not. It’s because Taehyung knows he has nothing to lose. Nothing to regret. What more could still happen?

You aren’t his and you never will be.

So his thumb slides across the bright screen, scouring his contacts until he finds you there, collecting dust but never forgotten.

Don’t do it.

The reasonable voice of sanity isn’t wrong, of course, but when has he ever been sane anyway? Didn’t the two of you meet because he was as unhinged as could be? In hindsight, he wishes he could have made a different first impression, and not what he did.

What did you see in him at that moment? When you stepped in, into a room that barely seemed normal. What kind of person was he to you?

Was, is, could and would and should have,

If and when and might.

Nothing to lose now.

Fuck it.

He pushes his thumb onto your name and then the call symbol, phone pressing to his ear with shut eyes and teeth worrying his full lower lip. He’s an idiot, he knows. Still hung up on something like this, as if he never learned at all.

You were a lesson enough, so why is he…

Shit…

The call is going through. He might be waking you. Or you might not notice. And perhaps Jungkoo—

Shit, shit. Jungkook.

Why didn’t he think of the main damn reason you left at all? If this doesn’t disturb your nightly peace, Jungkook might register it. Is Taehyung screwing up again?

He brings his phone to his lap, ogling at the screen, thumb already floating over the button to hang up again. Because he can’t do this to you and himself and his best friend, so he should—

“Hey?”

The ringing stops; your voice nearly gives him a heart attack. A shiver inundates his entire body, the hammering beneath his chest aggressive and loud. And the dense fog… it’s shrouding his mind.

He listens in closely, wondering whether he hallucinated your voice, whether it was as unreal as his dream. But a moment later, he hears you again, his name penetrating the silence like a knife, “Tae?”

You sound groggy. He’s heard this very tone so many times before. He musters up whatever courage’s left in him and responds, “Hi.”

“…Is something wrong?” you immediately ask. “Are you okay?”

Of course that’d be your initial reaction. The first conversation after all this time, in the dead of the night. Why would he call if not for a favour or when in absolute need? But it’s neither, is it? This is something entirely else and there is no proper word for it.

Well, stupidity, perhaps.

“No,” he answers, “I just—” His mind is befuddled, no clear thought. He isn’t quite sure what he wants to say; maybe he should’ve prepared a script, something with reason and justification. Instead, he babbles, “I never got to tell you.”

Silence again.

He hears some shifting on the other end and a slight groan, still yours and not Jungkook’s. There are quiet steps, as if you’re distancing yourself from your sleeping boyfriend, to be able to listen to Taehyung’s thoughts properly.

Knowing something is up. Taehyung knows anyone would, but he can’t help but think of the mirror again.

A door opens, and then, a door closes. You whisper, ���Wait,” before you let out a breath, probably, surely plumping onto the couch he still knows. “Taehyung…”

“Yes.”

“What’s wrong?”

“…Where’s Jungkook.”

You clear your throat; the sofa shifts, and you sound more relaxed, as if you leaned back. You tell him, “In the bedroom. I stepped out for a sec.” Pause; and then again, “What’s wrong?”

“I was thinking of you and,” he lowers his head, the stillness between you a burning pain, “and I wanted to say hi.”

You laugh a little, followed by a hearty yawn. But you’re not bored, just exhausted. Still here, still jesting when you ask, “At,” another break in speech, “half past three, huh?”

“Hey, I don’t choose what my brain chooses to dream of.”

You stop laughing. The recurring silence fills your conversation; both of you seem to be arranging your thoughts, necessarily so after this long. Then, you state rather than ask, “You dreamed of me.”

“Yeah…”

“Was it…” you start, but then exhale, trying again, “What was it? A memory?”

“No… not really.”

“Something familiar?” He hears you shifting, your voice clearer. Sweet and tender. “I reckoned that’s what you… never got to tell me?”

“No… no, it was nothing,” Taehyung lies. “There was just rain. Us talking.” And then, some truth, “We apologised.”

You wait, voicing a sound of interruption and uncertainty, before you inquire, “Why would you apologise?”

“Because… it’s not like the time we had was so stress-free.” Taehyung stares up to the ceiling, leaning forward with a hand rubbing his forehead. “Maybe that’s what I needed to tell you. Apologise for what I did to you.”

“You… you didn’t do anything to me. I had fun, Tae,” you assure, your voice defeated. He can imagine what you look like; fallen face, droopy eyes, beautiful lips suggesting grief. “I don’t blame you for anything, you know? Just… not everything lasts. And it’s not your fault.”

“Maybe not everything is supposed to last.”

You don’t say anything, and he takes a deep breath. He knows you’d agree if you weren’t so cautious still, cherry picking your responses. And as you think it through, he imagines you looking out of the window; so he does, too.

His eyelids are heavy with sleep, and he’s so incredibly sorry that he’s robbing you of the sleep you love so much as well. But it’s not just him drowning in this moment, he thinks. Because you keep the words flowing, eventually ask, “How have you been?”

“I… I’m fine.” Closest to what’s true. At least in the grand picture, physically and all. He’s not dying, doesn’t feel like he is anymore. “Living.”

“Yeah?”

“It’s been alright,” he fiddles with his blanket, a stray thread, plays with his thoughts. “And you?”

“I’m good, too.”

“Good. I’d be mad if you weren’t,” he adds quietly, painfully uncontrolled, “I didn’t let you go for nothing.”

He squints his eyes shut, trapping his lip between his teeth. Maybe he should be more careful. He resists the urge to groan over his idiocy when you respond, “Yeah…”

But it doesn’t end here, does it? Taehyung might already be a fool for saying all these words in this constellation at all; but the dumb courage won’t falter yet. He reminds himself… nothing to regret anymore…

“Can I ask you something?” he lets out. “I might not want to hear the answer, but I think I will hate not doing it, too.”

You sound more unsure by the minute. Perhaps he’s putting you in a situation you’re not too fond of — but you’re an honest soul. If you wanted to leave, he knows you would. Instead, you say, “…Yeah.”

Now or never. One, two, three. Three, two, one.

Taehyung gulps and then—

“Did you ever love me?”

Your answer is, as expected, not immediate. In fact, you don’t say much at all, leaving the conversation wordless for a moment. It takes patience and sucking in some more oxygen until you finally mutter—

“Maybe.”

The sting is sharp and fiery, and he curls the hand on his forehead into a fist. It remains there, eyes still closed, as if to press against the hot head and calm the overwhelmed brain behind it. It’s so fiercely hurting over what could have been.

And the guilt pricking steps in immediately, too, thinking of the man in the other room at your place; how Taehyung never wishes him ill and how he is still selfish enough right now to wish you had ended up being his.

“Maybe, yeah?” he then asks.

“I wasn’t sure back then,” you tell him, still nearly whispering. “A ton was going on and now…”

“You’ve forgotten what it felt like.”

“No. I don’t think that’s it. And I don’t think I’ll ever forget you.” Taehyung sighs in defeat, hardening his jaw. Fuck. “You don’t seem to understand what you meant to me. But. I’m not at that spot anymore, so I can’t tell you without feeling like I’m… possibly distorting what it truly was.”

“Whatever it was,” Taehyung says, “he was bigger anyway. And I understand, you know? I do.”

“I… If he wasn’t,” you start, slowly, as if you’re not actually keen on saying what you have to say. But as Taehyung already deducted once more — honest soul. “I would’ve chosen differently.”

Yet another pause. Taehyung only nods, though you can’t see any of his movements, any of his expressions. You continue, “Maybe I’ll always feel some of what I used to for you, but— leaving him will never feel right. Jungkook is what I’ve always known.”

“I know,” Taehyung immediately chimes in; how much more can he hear? He asked for it, so when will he learn? “I know he is. It shouldn’t be any other way.”

And he means it. Wishing otherwise doesn’t erase his respect for him, does it? You mumble another, “Yeah,” before Taehyung adds, “It was nice hearing from you again.”

“You too, Tae.”

“Take care of yourself. I’m sorry for waking you up so late.”

“It’s okay.” You sniffle, but you’re not crying as you were in his dream. Just a habit, or an emotional toll. But you’re so achingly kind; how does one forget about you when you say things like, “It was important to you. So it’s okay.”

“Thank you.” Taehyung lets go of the jogger’s loose thread, fist opening as he says, “And hey. Do tell Jungkook about this.”

“Oh… yeah. Somehow I thought you’d tell me not to.”

“Really?”

Taehyung smiles. There was a time when he was in love and evil enough to make the wrong decision. But he knows that at his core, he’s good, and that you wouldn’t have fallen for him if he wasn’t. He needs to live by this very goodness.

He asks, “So, would you’ve kept this from him?”

You think. Only for a short second before you admit, “No. Because he should know. And because this isn’t anything wrong. Him not knowing would feel wrong, though.”

“Exactly. I’m no different, you know? I’m offended you wouldn’t think a bit better of me.”

You laugh again, a lovely sound. Just the right thing to end the day by. And as your snicker ebbs down, you find your voice again, gentle though it breaks his heart, “Good night, Tae.”

That’s it, then. Time to truly end the story.

“Good night.”

Another whisper from the other side, “Night.”

And then, you’re gone.

As soon as your voice disappears, the wild beating of his heart does, too. But not because the nervousness passes; rather, because it gives way to a void. The farewell in your last word opened it immediately, quickly.

One damn word, so many messages. Wishing him the best, as if permitting him a better future. Maybe you’re hopeful for him. For something lying ahead that he’s unaware of still. He doesn’t know.

For now, all he understands is that he’s alone, and that the moment the connection cut, the vacant space in his chest grew to stay for a bit. But…

Another Saturday has arrived, sunrise not too far.

After all the pain, he’s still gotten here. And he’ll remain to witness many more of these warm weekends, time speeding up once the wounds disappear. Maybe someday.

Maybe someday, his days will stop resembling survival and give way to sweetness, a remedy once more.

this was unedited; i'll do so tmrw. so if there were words missing and stuff, let me know :') i hope you read and liked it, especially if you were around for the ride that ry was back then. if not, then thank you still for being here <3 i just needed to get this out of my system either way, even if nobody read it at all lol. i still cherish them a lot sigh

come and chat with me about literally anything, i'll be thrilled <3

[alwaysthebiggerbear]

Call My Name - 1: Phase One Is A Go

Story Summary: Grace Mallory, the Boys, and the government have all warily agreed to your plan to take down Homelander. There’s just one more person to add to the operation, the very person who is necessary for any measure of the plan’s success. Can you convince him to join the team and help you defeat Homelander once and for all? AU post-3x08. If you’re a Homelander fan, you may not care for this story. I just want to say that up front. Sorry! 😬

Chapter Summary: And so Phase 1 begins.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Female!Reader Series Masterlist A/N:I am super excited to delve into this story. I’ve been working on it since 7/8/23. Unbeta’d so all mistakes are mine. Songs for chapter (also listened to while writing): Prison Fight - Tyler Bates; Run For Your Life - The Siege Warnings: sanctioned assassination; violence/blood; implied gore/death/murder; Soldier Boy being Soldier Boy; language; implied sexual imagery; hints of manipulation Word Count: 8515

Some days were tough. Some days were harder than most. But here you were, getting through each day with only one goal in mind. Everything you did, every decision you made, every breath you took — it was all leading towards one specific objective.

And that’s why you were here now, at a black op CIA site, watching as they pulled a comatose Soldier Boy out of containment.

“Are you sure about this?” Grace Mallory asked as you both stared down from the observation deck at Vought’s original Supe they had cooked up. It wasn’t too often that Grace showed her soft side; most didn’t even know she had one actually. But right now, out of the corner of your eye, you could see concern mixed with understanding topped off with a bit of careful hesitation. While you hated the concern and appreciated the understanding, you couldn’t blame her on the hesitation. Soldier Boy was basically a nuclear reactor in human form and he hadn’t gone down under the best circumstances, which was putting it lightly. Not only did he not want to go back under for another deep sleep, but Butcher and his team would be in his sights now. And based on what he did to the last team who betrayed him, you all were in for a shitstorm.

You knew this was a terrible idea, that you could very likely die before achieving your goal and you could bring hundreds if not thousands of people with you if you weren’t careful. But you were out of options and just like Butcher and company had arrived at the same decision some months earlier, you had chosen to unearth the strongest weapon you had in your arsenal in the battle between Supes and humans. 

Grace had fought you on it of course. The government had strongly agreed with her assessment; Soldier Boy was too much of a risk to allow him to gain consciousness never mind walk around free. And yet they had no answer when you questioned why they didn’t just destroy him and end it, making the world that much safer. You knew why; they wanted to be in possession of that power, that weapon deep within the Supe’s chest. And that you could work with.

The older woman already knew your backstory and when you pressed the right buttons, backed by Butcher of all people, eventually she came around. You had no idea who she spoke to or what favors she had called in, but sure enough, your mission was greenlit with barely any resistance though a ton of uneasiness. Not unexpected and not entirely unfathomable. Funnily enough, President Singer was kept in the dark on this one; he was too close to Vought and by extension, Homelander and Victoria Neuman. You didn’t exactly mind. It was better for you and the mission as a whole if no one knew that Soldier Boy was still alive. How Grace managed to keep his existence under wraps for all of this time, you had no idea, but you were grateful she was on your side. So when you got the go ahead, you and Butcher took the win and hightailed it to the CIA facility before anyone could change their minds, or worse, figure out what you were up to and try to stop you. 

There were stipulations as you figured there would be: daily briefings, a carefully selected unit of CIA under Grace’s command would be monitoring your every move closely, they reserved the right to pull the plug at any time and put Soldier Boy back into containment, and while you were in charge of the op, Butcher was who you had to answer to in Grace’s absence. That definitely set your teeth on edge. You and Butcher had different ideas on how to get things done, but you reminded yourself that you both had the same goal and that was all that really mattered. So you begrudgingly agreed and now here you were ordering the staff to begin the process of waking the original Supe up. 

You watched as two men in Hazmat suits appeared to be choosing who would pull the figurative straw. You rolled your eyes; they were wasting time. Before you could hit a button and bark out an order, the one on your right seemed to be the one who had lost and warily approached Soldier Boy to remove his mask, practically darting away once he was finished. The staffer on the left was holding a radiation meter in his hand. From your viewpoint, you could see the levels slowly begin to rise. Sure enough, when you flicked your eyes over to the Supe, you could see movement underneath his eyelids, as if he were having an intense dream.

Grace saw it, too, and she ordered the two men out at once. There was no hesitation in following her command. Once they were out, Grace nodded to the staffer on her other side and he stayed at the ready, finger hovering over a button that you assumed would flood the room with Novichok gas within seconds if needed. Another employee darkened the windows in front of you. You could still see out but Soldier Boy wouldn’t be able to see in. A switch was flipped somewhere and the lights went down. The backup power source came on and the room was flooded with a red halo from the emergency lights. An alarm started to sound throughout the facility, as if someone had infiltrated the building, but everyone’s lack of movement and surprise confirmed there were no intruders. Instead, everyone’s focus was on the Supe who was going to open his eyes at any second. 

Grace turned back to you. “Are you ready for this?”

You grabbed the gas mask that had been given to you as a contingency. “Butcher and his team ready?”

“Ready and standing by,” someone informed you both.

You gave Grace a nod and turned to leave the room. 

“Hey,” she called, stopping you in your tracks. You glanced back over your shoulder to see that concern again, this time framed by the cold steel you’d gotten to know over the last few months. “If it looks like it’s not going to happen…” She let her warning trail off; both of you knew what would happen if things started to go sideways. She’d do her best to get you out before you got killed, but there was a high chance it wouldn’t happen. Then you’d be sealed in with a live nuclear reactor and that would be the end of you, and all of that would be before Soldier Boy could choose to unleash any of his wrath on you.

Giving a curt nod, you swiveled your head back in the direction you were headed in, determination filling your veins no matter the outcome. People cleared the path for you, fear plain as day on their faces. Not fear of you or even for you, but fear of what lay beyond in that chamber. Fear of what you had lobbied hard for to be woken up that would have been better left sleeping, for all eternity if some of them had their way. You didn’t pay them any mind and held your head up higher, a familiar blanket of cold indifference settling over you. You ignored their terrified gasps as you pulled one of your swords out of its sheath and headed for the open door. Once you were past it, after a few feet, you stopped right before the entrance to what could very well be your death, ignoring the sound of the door sealing shut behind you. 

You waited to be confronted by a group that had been specifically chosen for this op by Grace and Butcher. You could hear them approaching, talking low amongst themselves and trying to formulate a plan, which from some of their tones you could tell it wouldn’t hold up very well and not even that long even if you weren’t there to stop them. Sure enough, as you knew would happen with a few more footsteps, they rounded the corner, looking for an exit, only to find you .

The group of men had been dressed as security for the facility and the six of them varied in size. The one in front, a big burly guy who appeared to have declared himself as leader, sneered over at you. “Well, what do we have here?”

The way he looked at you, the vibe coming off of him as well as a few of the others… They had been chosen well; you could already feel the urge to wipe them off the map radiating throughout your body. Your thoughts were running rampant and as one of them leered, you could sense an all-too familiar rage attempting to burn brightly within you that you then masterfully directed throughout your body.

You swung your sword in your hand and tensed, getting ready. 

The leader laughed, turned to the other five, and ordered, “Get the bitch.”

The corner of your lips lifted in response. This was going to be a fun little workout for you that you could get in right before facing off with the final boss. Three men came charging at you and your sword flew with incredible precision as you spun in a dance you’d practiced a thousand times during training. You sliced open one and cut the other’s throat before either of them could even dream of laying a hand on you. When the third came closer, you made short work of him, and as you were about to injure the leader, he took one of the other two that had been hesitant to engage you, practically cowering, and used him as a human shield. He shoved the lanky man forward, right into your sword. You left it there and pulled your other one, kicking the dying man to the side. The sixth man cursed out loud and began running in the other direction. You pulled one of your knives from your belt and sent it careening into the back of his head, making him fall flat on his face. You then turned towards the one you had purposely saved for last. 

“You fucking bitch,” he hissed. “You want some of this? Then come get it!” He pulled your sword out of the guy he’d thrust onto it and began trying to swing at you. You effortlessly dodged each of his blows and you waited for him to lose energy. He wasn’t even worth parrying with. Sure enough, when you saw the arc of his arm begin to slow down, you made your move. You avoided the blade coming for your torso by dropping to your knees and sliding over to him and cutting into his side with your sword. Your movement propelled you forward, cutting deeply, and he let out the loudest yell you’d heard yet. He pathetically tried to point the sword in your direction but you easily sidestepped the movement, watching him begin to bleed everywhere. 

He tried to weakly lift the weapon once more as he held a hand over his gaping wound but you stopped him by bringing your blade down on his arm, effectively removing the limb and forcing him to scream out in pain again. It was like music to your ears and you stood there before him, glaring down at the piece of shit who didn’t deserve to be alive to even have come across you. You had a sneaky suspicion that Grace had chosen this one. 

“Now you know what they felt,” you snarled quietly.

He scowled back at you and spit blood in your direction, with you stepping back to avoid the spray. “Fuck you, you dumb bitch! Just like all the rest!” 

You gave him a nod and lifted your sword, his eyes slightly going wide at the sight. “Like all the rest,” you echoed and brought the blade down, hard. 

Though his screams turned piercing, you took him apart piece by piece within seconds, making sure he felt everything before you finally ended him. It was more mercy than he deserved. He was worse than all of the others combined, not that they were angels themselves. Blood coated you and both swords so you used one of the others’ shirts to wipe the red stains from one of the blades. You pushed it into its sheath on your back once you were finished and held the other aloft as you pulled out the security key card Grace had given you. You could hear Soldier Boy’s breathing increase and you knew you had to get into his room and fast. 

You made your way to the control panel on the left side of the doors, scanned the card, and tossed it once the green light appeared. The tell-tale sound of the doors opening sounded and you readied yourself, sword in hand.

Once the doors had pulled aside and a low level of smoke cleared which you suspected was gas (perhaps Grace had to keep him subdued while you were meting out justice on that asshole), you saw exactly what you had come for.

There stood Soldier Boy, glaring at you, his chest rising and falling, his hands in fists. Obviously, having just woken up and gotten to his feet, he was still a bit disoriented but not enough that you could take him by surprise and win . You could also see a sheen of yellow beginning to form in the center of his figure and you knew you only had seconds.

You stepped into the room, knowing there was no going back now and that Grace was watching every move from behind the dark glass. The yellow glow started to manifest and you took a quiet breath in. His eyes narrowed and he moved to face off with you, his right fist clenching harder. 

You held up your free hand. “I’m not here to fight you. I’m here to break you out.”

He scoffed in disbelief. “You’re with the Reds, aren’t you? You Commie motherfuckers expect me to believe that again?” He roared with a rasp, the color of the light in his chest turning from yellow to a luminous gold with a pinkish haze. 

You lifted your sword and placed it into the other waiting sheath on your back. At the action, Soldier Boy tensed further and took a step towards you.

You raised your other hand. “I’m not here to harm you.” He eyed you sharply, disbelief all over his face. “We’re not in Russia. We’re in the US, in upstate New York, at a black op CIA facility. You’ve been here for the past six months and I’m here to get you out.”

His expression didn’t change. “Why?”

“We can talk about it later. Right now, we—”

“Why?” The Supe yelled, fury lacing his tone, and the gold light got even brighter.

Gas suddenly began to flow into the room from vents in the ceiling and another loud alarm sounded, one you hadn’t heard yet. Shit. Grace was getting ready to lock it down. You’d had your shot and it hadn’t worked. You literally had one minute to get the hell out of there. But you were nothing if not stubborn and determined to see this through. 

You pulled the gas mask from underneath your thin coat and held it up for him to see. You tossed it over at him and he caught it just like you hoped he would. His eyes snapped up at you, distrust and anger still clearly in his green gaze. You really couldn’t blame him but right now, you didn’t have the time.

“Like I said, I’m here to help. We don’t have time for me to explain right now. So unless you want to go back on ice…” You nodded your head towards the billowing gas making its way rapidly down to him. He glanced back in the direction you indicated and he cursed, quickly slipping the mask on. You noticed the light in his chest didn’t get any brighter but that didn’t mean he wasn’t locked and loaded, able to go off at any moment. 

He met your eyes again and you inclined your head back towards the doors that were just beginning to close. “I suggest you come with me,” you threw at him and then spun on your heel, making your way out of the room. You walked a few feet and stopped, glancing back over your shoulder, hoping like hell he would follow you.

Right before the doors could close the last few feet, Soldier Boy slipped past them and came to a stop in front of you. He yanked the gas mask off but held onto it, breathing deeply of the clean air. You had made it out of the room, gotten him out of it — you’d survived the first phase of the plan and now you just needed to get through the next. 

His eyes roamed over the remnants of the scene you both were standing in, seeing the bodies and blood everywhere, and landed on the mask in his hand. His gaze snapped up to you and his expression hardened, his tone dark and dangerous. “Why are you helping me?”

“Because,” you took a step towards him, staring into his eyes, pretending not to notice him tense in preparation for a fight. “I need your help.”

He huffed out a chuckle that was lacking any amusement. “Always a fucking catch. What do you want?”

You took another step towards him and you observed his jaw tightening. “We can talk about it later but right now, we really need to keep m—”

“ What do you want?” He repeated.

“I need your help to take someone out.”

“Based on your handiwork,” He gestured to the scene around you with a hand. “I’d say you don’t need any help there, doll.”

Your own jaw clenched. “It’s a Supe.”

His eyes flashed and you knew that he was now aware of just who you were talking about. It wasn’t hard to put two and two together, you knew that. There was only one Supe in existence that Soldier Boy had been made to go up against before; the only one that had been as strong as him and he had been evenly matched with; the only one that he would be woken out of a Novichok coma like King Kong and sent to go fight Godzilla. “Homelander,” he spoke through gritted teeth.

You gave a nod of confirmation.

He watched you for a moment and then scrubbed a hand at his jaw. “Why the fuck would I help you?”

You lifted your chin. “He’s always been a problem but he’s only gotten more dangerous and more unstable since you were put under.”

“Not my problem.”

You crossed your arms, narrowing your eyes but trying to keep the rage boiling within you in check. “Actually, it is your problem. He wouldn’t even exist if you hadn’t given Vogelbaum a sample of your DNA to work with.”

He approached you quickly, the fury radiating off of him and the rose gold pulsing in his chest. You stood your ground. “I didn’t know that Vought would make a fucking kid with it!” He roared.

You wanted to ask just what he thought the mad doctor would do with his sperm but you kept that thought to yourself, knowing this wasn’t the time. You never broke eye contact and you watched as he panted harshly, his hands in fists again, the gas mask dangling from one. You remained quiet, waiting to see what would transpire. One wrong move here and you’d be toast, gone before you could even begin the most important mission of your life. One you were determined to see through no matter the cost. 

Seeing that you weren’t going to respond or react in any way, the gold light dimmed slightly and his hands slowly relaxed. “I didn’t ask for them to betray me and hand me over to the Reds where I was tortured every goddamn day for years . I didn’t ask for them to whip up some wannabe replacement behind my back. I didn’t ask to be forgotten,” he hissed.

You were a little surprised when you noticed the hurt and betrayal shadowing his gaze, but it was gone just as quickly as it had appeared. You watched as he turned to glance behind him, presumably to glare back at the room he’d been held in. But you knew he was also attempting to mask the tiny piece of vulnerability that had unexpectedly come through. You’d seen the videos of the torture he’d endured back in Russia, read his file back to back, sat through his crappy films, and you’d been fully briefed by Grace, Butcher, and the rest of the team who had exclusive dealings with him the first time he’d returned to the States six months ago. You’d also delved deep into Payback’s history and studied up on each and every one of its members. You knew about his PTSD, how he tended to self-medicate with booze, drugs, and women though he was in denial about having the disorder. You also knew that while some of his toxic beliefs and archaic attitudes were still in place, he was not entirely the same person he’d been before he was strapped to a table and Russian scientists proceeded to check off a list of several hundred different ways to try to kill him. The cocky swagger that had come so naturally to him before that was no longer the real deal. If anything, he overcompensated to try to make people believe he was the same Supe he’d been and just as dangerous as ever, with the added bonus of a nuclear threat sitting inside his chest.  

“Maybe not,” you agreed quietly. He turned back towards you. “I can make it worth your while.”

A sly smile began to form on his face as his gaze roved over you. “Appreciate the offer, sweetheart, but you’re not my type. I like ‘em a little older. Although, I will say the swords and the blood, you walking in there like some goddamn avenging angel…kinda hot.”

You fought not to roll your eyes. “That’s not what I was talking about.”

“Well then, unless you’ve got some fucktastic pussy waiting for me to wreck it along with some Bennies and grade A reefer, we’ve got nothing to talk about.” He lifted the mask up in a gesture of thanks and turned to slip down the hallway past you.

Watching him step barefoot in the blood, you waited until he had made it a few feet before saying, “Your freedom.”

He froze at that, turning his head slightly to the side, listening.

You walked up to him, only stopping a foot or so away. “You help me with Homelander, and you get your freedom. No more Vought, no more government, no more pulling of your strings. You’ll be free.”

He slowly turned to face you, his expression hardened though you didn’t miss the tiny glimmer of hope carefully hidden away in his gaze. “Bullshit. You don’t have that kind of pull no matter how you found me and got me out.”

“You’re right, I don’t. Grace Mallory does.”

“Who the fuck is Grace Mallory?”

You took a step closer, noting how this time he didn’t tense in preparation. In his mind, he had already dismissed you as someone he needed to worry about. While that was a good development for your plan, it irked you a little. You may not be Homelander, but you were certainly no weakling. And with this guy, guaranteed he automatically dismissed you as a threat because he saw you as weaker than him, and also because you were a woman. “Someone who does have that kind of pull.” You took yet another step towards him, confirming your theory when he only glared down at you. “You should know, you’ve met her before.”

At his knitted brow, you supplied, “Nicaragua, 1984.”

You watched as he searched through his memories, realization dawning on his features when he found the right one, his brows arching in slight surprise. “Captain Lesbo?”

You gave him a scowl that would have made a lesser man curl up in a ball. Grace and Hughie had warned you about his outdated and toxic takes on the world around him. 

That sly smile was back on his face. “She was gorgeous back then. I bet she’s aged like a real fine wine by now.” His tongue ran along his bottom lip and you felt queasy at his obvious lustful thoughts of the older woman. Right. Butcher and Hughie had given you a heads up on that , too.

Before he could get too lost in that fantasy, you made sure to interrupt with “She’s got the pull. So, are you in?”

He eyed you sharply, thinking over the offer. You also knew that he was thinking over how to secure the freedom you had dangled in front of him without having to deal with you or Grace. The sound of approaching security had you both snapping your gazes towards the noise. This was a group you couldn’t dispatch as easily as you had the first considering they were the real deal. Well, you could but you wouldn’t. You snuck a glance at his chest, seeing the gold beginning to shimmer underneath his skin once more. You had to get him out of here before the guards showed up.

He glanced back at you. “What do you get out of this?”

“I told you. Homelander dead.”

“No,” he ground out, taking a step towards you, his eyes burning into you and the light in his chest shining a golden halo on your face from his close proximity. This time, you were the one tensing, preparing to defend yourself. “What do you get ?”

“My freedom as well,” you informed him, never breaking eye contact or stepping away. You were telling him the truth. Once the strongest Supe on the planet was no more, you would be free, in a way. He didn’t need to know how, though.

His eyes roved over you and he let out a disgusted huff. “You’re a Supe.”

You didn’t respond; you didn’t need to. “So, do we have a deal?” You both could hear the men getting closer. “Tick tock,” you reminded him.

The anger never faded from his expression but the light in his chest began to grow a little brighter. “How about I blow this place to hell instead and you come with me? I could do with a little entertainment after being locked away in this shithole.” He let his gaze roam over you appreciatively and you could see just what kind of entertainment he had in mind.

You squared your jaw, not at all in the mood for his womanizing machismo bullshit. “If you blow this place up, the deal is off the table. Mallory won’t stand for it and considering my freedom is on the line, neither will I. I don’t need a bunch of CIA crawling up my ass while I go after Soldier Boy Junior. As for entertainment , now’s a good time for you to get reacquainted with your right hand because there’s no way you’re getting any of that from me,” you snarled. “So either take the deal or I leave you to be hunted down by every single agency and military across the globe once word gets out that you’re still alive. And it will get out.”

You both continued glaring at one another but he didn’t say a word. The men were getting closer.

“Best of luck with that,” you snapped, and turned to slip past him, intent on leaving him behind. Your anger wasn’t feigned; you were pissed. You knew he would be stubborn, mistrustful even, given what he’d been through, but this was just beyond irritating. You didn’t have time to stop and hammer out details; you were now on the run for Christ’s sake.

You headed in the opposite direction of the guards, pulling one of your swords, readying yourself for the sprint to the exit you’d planned for. Grace must be pissing her pants right about now; she’d given you both plenty of time to get out of the building. And if she was pissing her pants, you knew Butcher and his team were crapping theirs. Soldier Boy was awake and now it was up to Grace and the CIA to put him back under, your plan a complete failure. It wasn’t your fault that the Supe was indeed the most idiotic one as Grace had stated him to be. You’d given it your best shot. 

You surged forward, planning to keep casualties as low as possible should you come across anyone. A hand gripped your shoulder, hard, and turned you to face one very pissed off Soldier Boy. You got ready to start the battle of your life, knowing you were most likely going to lose, but you stopped when you noticed his chest was no longer glowing. 

“You got a way out of here?”

You arched a brow up at him. “You’re taking the deal?”

He snorted and released you, his eyes flicking back towards the opposite end of the hallway you were in before returning to you. “You get us out of here, get me some food and the shit I ask for, and we’ll talk.”

“No deal, no dice.” 

You went to move past him when he stopped you again, his hand gripping your upper arm. You could feel the superior strength behind it; if he wanted to, he could snap your arm like a twig, exerting very little pressure. But thankfully, he seemed more focused on getting you to listen to him rather than harming you. “You want me to help you kill Homelander?” At your nod, he let out an angry breath. “Done. I would have hunted down that sniveling pussy on my own, anyway. But after you give me what I just asked for. And then I get my freedom,” he dictated.

“We both do,” you tacked on, still shocked that you had managed to get him to agree.

His eyes roamed over your face and then he gave you a nod, letting you go. “So which way to the fucking exit?”

Just then, the guards broke through the door and spilled out into the hallway, spotting you and shouting at one another to take you both down. Soldier Boy turned a ferocious glare on them and began to step around you to take them on when you grabbed his bicep. The action prompted him to glance down at your hand, his gaze then lifting to yours. “This way,” you urged, and began to run. Thankfully, he fell in step right behind you. Bullets were suddenly being fired in your direction and you had to practically fly out of there. Those bullets might ricochet off Soldier Boy but they wouldn’t bounce so easily off of you. 

As you were passing a small vehicle that you’d seen security guards traversing in on your last visit, he picked it up and launched it at the guards pursuing you. You heard the sickening sounds of machinery crunching flesh and you could only hope no one had died or had life threatening injuries. Instead, all you could manage to do now was to distract the Supe and get him out of there.

“Through here,” you called back to him. Relief pooled in your chest when you glanced back to find his attention on you. He hurried over towards you and you punched in the code Grace had given you to memorize. The door opened and you ducked as you pushed past it, hearing the sounds of more bullets flying your way. Soldier Boy was right behind you and you hit the button to close the door. Once it was shut you used your strength to punch the control panel and destroy it so the guards couldn’t follow.

You turned to find Soldier Boy’s brows arched at you in surprise before a leering smirk appeared on his face. “Well, that answers that.”

You let out a quiet scoff and slipped your sword back into the empty sheath on your back. “Like I said, that’s not happening.”

“A shame,” he practically purred at you, amusement clear as day in his eyes alongside a fire you hadn’t seen there before. It became quickly apparent just what that fire was. The image of you both tangled up in one another, the blood still on your skin, and him slamming into you up against the walls of the hallway you were now in made the queasiness from earlier reappear. It got even worse when the image transformed into one of you emerging into the room he’d been held in and him taking you right on the gurney he’d been laid out on, neither of you caring who showed up, who watched, or who ended up dying when he was finished. The queasiness had become full blown nausea at this point, and you forced it back down. You had a job to do after all.

You ignored his eyes roaming over your body and lifted your chin. “Time to go.”

You marched past him and continued on the route you and Grace had planned. Thankfully, he followed and the images began to peter out the closer you got to the outside. You were beyond grateful for that; you could only see his face contorted in pleasure as he rutted into you so many times before you would actually throw up. Not for the first time since you’d been turned, you cursed this gift you had been given.

“I take it Captain Lesbo gave you the code back there?” He asked.

“Who do you think told me where to find you?” You countered.

You led the way through another tunnel until you came to a heavy door that supposedly led to the parking lot outside. You yanked out both swords, pulled your hood up, and flicked your gaze over to the Supe. “Ready?”

You watched as his hands clenched into fists once more. “Lead the way.”

You tested the door. It swung open and suddenly both of you were engulfed in the bright light of the sun. You scanned the parking lot when you noticed the office supplies van parked about three hundred feet away, right where Grace said it would be. “It’s a short run but we’ve got to make it fast. She’ll only be able to get us a blind spot from the cameras for a few minutes. We’re headed for that van over there.” You gestured in the vehicle’s direction. “So when I say go, we run like hell.”

The man gave you a curt nod and held a hand over his eyes, looking over the lot as well. 

You waited, tensed and prepared for a fight, hoping it wouldn’t be a long one. Grace should have eyes on you by now and Team B should be ready to engage you the moment you both stepped out further. You really wished you had an earpiece for this part but due to Soldier Boy’s extra sharp hearing, it had been decided across the board that it was too much to risk. You would just have to keep trusting in the timing of the plan you had come up with. You could hear the rumbling of a motor coming closer, picking up speed and gaining momentum. You held up a hand near the Supe and began to manually count down from 5. 

A box truck was about to pass by as you got to 2, signaling to you that Phase 3 was a go, when suddenly everything went to hell. Soldier Boy stepped out in front of the vehicle, unflinching as it made impact with his body. To your absolute amazement, you silently watched as his feet stayed stationary and the truck began to wrap itself around the Supe, the object needing to go somewhere, and split right down the middle. You could hear the loud screeching of the metal and the terrified yell of the driver before it was abruptly cut off. Your brain barely had time to process what you were seeing when Soldier Boy picked up one half of the sliced truck and launched it in the air as if it were a football. It was aimed at a location where you knew reinforcements were waiting to rush out and engage you from. You heard the tell-tale screams and ensuing splat. Mallory was going to be pissed .

The Supe then turned a glower back onto you. “No need to run now.” You could see that though he had been attracted to you a few minutes ago, had mostly agreed to your deal, and you had broken him out, he still didn’t trust you completely. You could understand that, respect it even. But you couldn’t have him going off script like this if your plan was to succeed. And the plan could not fail. Something you would make clear to him once you were both far away from here.

Truthfully, you should have anticipated something like this. Soldier Boy was volatile, unpredictable at best, but once you had gotten him to switch off the nuke in his chest, you had naively thought you could get him out with a low body count. That certainly wasn’t the case now. You were grateful that you were already mid-op because you knew if you weren’t, Mallory would have immediately shut you down. No way in hell was that happening. 

That last thought spurred you into action. You nodded and sheathed both of your swords, heading towards the van. A strong hand on your shoulder stopped you.

“Choose something else,” he ordered.

You shot him an irritated glare. “That’s the vehicle they have set up for us. Which means there’s keys, gas — the works.”

“It also means they can track us.” You were slightly surprised but you kept it off of your features. “Butcher and his cumguzzler thought I wasn’t listening to their bitchfests when they were tracking down my old team for me.” His eyes snapped to yours. “I was.”

Of course he had been. You could see now that this was something everyone had missed when dealing with him in the past, his most recent foray into the modern world included. Butcher and his team had been so focused on the danger the Supe presented and his lethality, that they hadn’t realized just how closely he had been listening and watching. Several examples of this behavior flickered through his mind quickly and you saw every single one which had always turned things to his advantage while turning badly (sometimes deadly) for others. Butcher and Hughie had easily dismissed him as a fossil who didn’t know what a smartphone was. Even Mallory had said he was the most idiotic of all the Supes to ever exist. And he had let them. He let them think he was the Soldier Boy they had seen on their TV screens once upon a time, in old newspaper clippings, and what had been jotted down in his file over the years he had been active with Vought: the public persona and the demanding celebrity personality behind all of that. But this Soldier Boy…this one was far more clever, calculating, and you knew then that this was where the real danger resided. A quick flash of a woman you recognized as Crimson Countess bound to a chair in a double wide followed by an explosion and another image of her charred corpse afterwards confirmed your suspicions. 

Right now, any other person having realized what you just did, they might have turned back. Or they would get him to the next location and bow out, let Butcher and Mallory handle it from there on out. But you weren’t that person and you were fully in this. You had started this and you were committed to see it all the way through. And see it through you would , come hell or high water or murderous Supes. There was no other option; there never had been from the moment you woke up with a foreign chemical running through your veins, enhanced abilities, and fine-tuned senses. What you just discovered about the Supe currently glaring you down could only help the plan in the long run while also ensuring you were even more careful than you already planned to be.

You turned to face him fully and stared into his eyes. “Understood.” You wanted him to know that you knew, even if he didn’t know how yet, and that despite that , you were still sticking to the plan which included him.

He studied you for a moment and you could see that while he was still unsure about you, he was deciding to trust you…for now. He released your shoulder and slightly relaxed his stance. 

“Any ideas?” Since he had changed this part of the plan, you figured he could offer up an alternative.

“Don’t care as long as it runs.” He glanced towards the lot filled with other heavy duty vehicles. 

“Agreed. But we still need to move. We don’t have long before the cameras turn back on.” You immediately made your way towards a dark blue SUV sitting parked near a curb. You had a feeling this may have belonged to some of the agents he had just killed, but it only meant three things to you: keys, gas, and a working car that could handle the speed and damage you would need to get out of here. You tried the back door, finding it unlocked, and you immediately knew you had been right. No one was coming to reclaim this vehicle, not for a while anyway. 

You quickly removed the scabbard from your back and slipped it into the backseat before jumping behind the wheel. Soldier Boy hopped in next to you, watching you as you turned the engine over. You didn’t bother mentioning that once Mallory and Butcher figured out you were in this vehicle, they could track it as well; that would only be counterproductive to the plan and make him more suspicious of you. 

You pulled away from the curb and sped out of the lot. When you got near the security booth, a platoon of armed guards tried to flag you down. This was one of the reasons why the office supplies van had been selected. You could have removed your gear and passed yourself off as a delivery driver; Mallory had already greenlit that part of the plan. This…well, you would need to improvise. 

You glanced over at Soldier Boy who was scowling in their direction. “Hang on,” you warned. Not that he needed to; he’d already proven that nothing could damage or even dent that super strong body of his. You, on the other hand, had to duck down as you pressed the gas pedal to the floor, gunning it. Bullets began flying towards your car but you didn’t let up, not even when you presumably hit a couple of the guards in your bid to escape. You felt Soldier Boy’s hand roughly push you down further in your seat and his other hand land next to yours on the wheel. A few more sickening thuds, pings from bullets, and wet crunches when the car jumped up slightly as your wheels mowed over those who hadn’t moved, and then you were scot free.

“We’re clear,” Soldier Boy gruffed out next to you, releasing you and moving back into his seat. 

You lifted up and glanced in your sideview mirror, seeing the destruction you had just caused getting further and further away. You tried to feel remorse about it, you really did, but that emotion — any emotion — was the gateway to weakness and you couldn’t afford that. Especially not now. 

“You injured?” 

You weren’t but you automatically glanced down at yourself to double check. “Nope. You?”

You looked up at him and as expected, his bare muscular chest was smooth, free of any injuries. His arms and face contained barely a shadow of a bruise, never mind an actual wound. He noticed your perusal of him and his lips twisted into a cocky smirk. An image of him railing you in the backseat had you turning back to the road, trying to mask your disgust. 

“I’m good, doll,” he assured you. “Real good. Fucking horny as shit, though. It’s been a while. Think you can find us a place to pull over and let me fuck you quick?”

This was going to be a long ride. “Seems to me your right hand is free.”

Instead of being annoyed at your answer, he only smirked wider. “Is that your way of telling me you’d like me to start us off by jerking it while you look for a place?”

“No,” You met his gaze head on. “That’s my way of telling you not to let your wrist cramp up on this mission because you’re going to be jerking it quite a bit.”

He seemed completely unbothered by your words. “You want to see my dick?”

You scoffed in disgust and focused back on the road.

“I’m fully hard right now and let me tell you, it is a fucking sight to behold. Extra strength wasn’t the only thing the V gave me.” His teeth dug into his bottom lip as he continued trying to convince you. “Women love my dick. There isn’t a woman I’ve fucked that has ever walked right again.”

“Wow,” you quipped. “Quite the selling point.”

He ignored your snarkiness. “You see it for yourself, dollface, and I guarantee you’ll be changing your mind. All I’ve gotta do is pull it out, right here, right now, and you’ll be begging for me to slip it inside you.”

You had noticed the bugle in his sweats out of the corner of your eye before you turned away just before; you knew he was telling you the truth. He was horny, hard, and literally about to whip it out. Not unless you shut him down hard . You may not be able to keep him from pleasuring himself right there next to you, but at least he would know there was no way in hell you were going anywhere near his supposedly legendary manhood. You wished you could tell that he was lying but you could only see images of women worshiping him and his body as he thought back over his vast amount of conquests. When you saw his hand reaching into his sweats from your peripherals, you decided the time to make your firm boundaries on this subject known was now.

“I’m never having sex with you so don’t even bother. I’m here to do a job and that job isn’t you, as much as you might like it to be. When we get to the motel, if you want to find an old lady willing to help you with your problem , fine by me. But this ,” you gestured between the two of you. “Is never happening.”

He snickered next to you. “You say that now but I’m telling you, doll, one peek at my dick might change your mind. Or when you hear how fucking good I’m giving it to some other gal.” He turned another filthy smile on you. “But just know that when I’m wrecking that pussy, I’ll be thinking of you and how good I know you’d feel squeezing around me.”

The images of you in the throes of pleasure returned and you tensed, your jaw tightening, but you forced yourself to think only of the plan. “What every girl hopes to hear,” you muttered. You glanced in the rearview mirror and very far back, you noticed Butcher’s vehicle following you. You weren’t surprised; Mallory had never really turned the cameras off and it’s not like you hadn’t left a big blinking neon sign back there to get her attention on where you had exited the compound. 

Soldier Boy’s hand rubbed over the bulge in his pants a few times before he chuckled under his breath and went to look out his window. “So, you know who I am, you know my name… I don’t know yours. Why don’t you tell me?”

You clenched your fingers on the wheel and held your breath, focusing your vision on the rearview. 

A moment later, Soldier Boy turned to look at you, smirking. You subtly let out your breath and relaxed your grip on the wheel, placing your eyes back on the road. “I bet it’s a real pretty one. Come on, tell me.”

You could hear him dialing up the flirtation, switching from being direct to now trying to charm you. “Name’s Persephone.”

“Persephone? That is pretty but it sounds like a Supe name.”

You briefly glanced over at him. “It is.”

He seemed to think it over, nodding after a moment in approval. “What’s your real name?”

“Nope.” You shook your head.

“You’re not going to tell me?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

You met his eyes once more. “Because you haven’t earned that yet.” You waited another moment before finally breaking away from his intense gaze.

You could see as he took you in, how his eyes roamed over you hungrily, and you knew the moment he decided to accept the challenge he was determined that you presented. Another chuckle escaped him and he looked out his window again. “Alright, doll. We’ll play it your way, for now. Besides, it’s really my name that matters in this situation here.”

Your brows began to furrow and you did your best to get a read on him. What was he talking about? “How so?”

You watched as he turned to look at you and you could feel the rush of desire that immediately ran through him as images of you screaming, begging, and moaning “Ben! Oh my god, Ben! Ben, don’t ever stop fucking me, please! Fuck, Ben! Fucking give it to me! Oh fuck, right there!” floated to the forefront of his mind. You knew what his words would be before he even said them. “Because you’ll be screaming it before long.”

The nausea from earlier was back but you tamped it down and waited until he turned away from you again. Your eyes flickered to the rearview mirror and relief consumed you when you noticed Butcher’s vehicle was no longer anywhere to be seen. Not only had you successfully distracted the Supe but the moment Soldier Boy became interested in the topic of you, Phase 4 of the overall plan began. Now you only had to get him to the motel, get him rested and recharged, and then your work could truly begin. Leading you all down the path to the only thing that mattered: the eradication of Vought, and the end of Homelander once and for all.

A/N: Chapter 2 coming soon...

[matthewbernardswife]

i was all over her | matt sturniolo

a/n: I think im gonna make this a small series idk tho lmk also there is pov swiching

summary: lightly inspired by the song 'i was all over her'

warnings: just fluff, maybe angst idrk

-

matt's pov

Nick and Chris are on a trip and I'm home sick. It's been chill these past few days but now that I'm not sick and they are still gonna be gone for a week I'm alone. I've been in the house doing nothing by myself.

There's a ding on my phone. I check it to see a text from my friend inviting me to a party tonight not too far from my house. He says it's gonna be a chill party so not too much out of my element. I reluctantly agreed to go just so I'm not by myself for a night.

I soon head out to the party and pull up to the house. There's not a ton of cars outside which eases my anxiety. I walk in and greet my friend, who comes up to me. I scan the room and see multiple small groups scattered around the room. I choose not to drink tonight just because I'm driving. So as my friend and his friends drink and play games in the kitchen I stand in a corner observing while listening to the music.

y/n's pov

Me and my friends cram into the small car to head to the party. We get there and all head to the kitchen to get drinks. I don't get time to scan the room before my friends pull me to go outside where most of the guys are. I stand near them while they talk to everyone. As soon as they aren't paying attention, I sneak away inside. I lounge on the basically empty couch looking around the room. I noticed many small friend groups scattered around the house before I noticed him. I see a tall guy standing in the corner with no one around him. He has beautiful brown hair and some stubble on his face. Wearing jeans and a tee with a flannel. I look away before he can notice me staring and I go on my phone.

matt's pov

More and more people slowly fill the room. My friend is still somewhere around, probably playing drinking games. I look around the crowded room and then my eyes fall on her. She's sitting alone on her phone. She's beautifully shaped and has gorgeous hair. Her eyes aren't too visible but you can tell they are stunning. I consider going up to her but get scared. Some time goes by and catch myself continuously taking glances at her. Every time I do she makes my heart stop. I build up the courage to go and sit next to her and introduce myself.

"Hi, I'm matt." I say nervously. She looks over at me and smiles. Her smile could kill me and I would be happy.

"I'm y/n." she says her name confidently and with enthusiasm. It makes me crumble. "I noticed you were standing alone, how come?"

"My friend is playing drinking games and I'm driving so I don't want to get involved." I reply and she looks as if she understands

"My friends are trying to get guys to bring them home and I don't want to be involved in that." She says.

"Oh, do you have a boyfriend?" My reply makes her look almost relieved.

"No I don't. I don't really try to get into a relationship." When she says that I get excited but don't show it. I decide to try and get to know her because both of our friends are doing something else.

When we talk it feels as if both of us are genuinely interested in what each other are saying. I was all over her and we didn't even have to hook up. All we did was talk. It goes on like that for awhile before her friend comes over and whispers something in her ear.

"Ill be right back." She leaves with her friend somewhere and I sit on the couch waiting for her to come back. I wait on the couch for awhile before my friend comes over and tells me that the party is dying down and we should go. Before I get up I scan the room for her but she is nowhere to be found.

The way home and all night I think of her hoping she was just as interested in me as I was in her.

y/n's pov

Turns out the quick trip to the bathroom with my friend ended up with us having to quickly get an uber and leave because she drank too much. I hated having to be dragged away from my conversation without explaining why I had to suddenly leave. I bet he's still waiting on the couch or left because he wasn't interested. The whole ride home I think of him. I text my friend who lives at the house and she says he left. I feel defeated because I was interested in him but he wasn't interested in me.

-

a/n: I hope this isn't boring bc I want to make this a small series. lmk if you want a part 2 and if you like the switching povs.

tags: @loveparqdise @h3arts4harry @afilmbykay @peiivnao @lolastrniolo

comment if you want to be on the tag list and requests are open

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

When the twisted wonderland anime comes out what are the things you hope they do better then what they could do in the game?

To quickly clarify a few things (so new readers and anyone stumbling across this post doesn't get the wrong idea): firstly, we do not yet have any confirmation on what the Twisted Wonderland anime will be about. Secondly, I have previously expressed that I would prefer the TWST anime to be random slice of life rather than another main story adaptation. If we assume that the anime will be another adaptation of the main story, I don't think the anime staff has a ton of liberty in the alterations they can make to the source material. Book 2 is widely known to be the greatest example of Bad Writing in TWST, and it cannot exactly be swept under the rug since it's in the main story. I doubt anyone would be allowed to make massive rewrites to the script or to the series of events; the biggest changes we get are slightly compacted scenes in the manga and the light novel. For example:

Skipping lines that appear in the game. (Ex: in the Book of Heartslabyul, Ace does not joke about sharing a room with Yuuken.)

Combining scenes to save on time. (Ex: In the light novel, Yuuya and Deuce meet Leona for the first time not in the Botanical Garden, which is the case in the game. Instead, the mob student that broke the eggs meant for Ace's apology chestnut tart is a Savanaclaw kid that Leona shows up to reprimand.)

Adding slight details to fill in logical gaps. (Ex: Yuuya in the light novel is granted a NRC uniform by Crowley; the uniform is described to us, the readers. Yuu getting a uniform is never mentioned in the game.)

Continuing from the last point, new details can also serve to flesh out character motivations, backstories, and lore. (Ex: the Heartslabyul light novel informs us that Riddle faces social repercussions for his OB and almost got expelled from school; the Savanaclaw light novel sheds new light on Leona's motivations, and the same can be said of Riddle.)

So basically, the story (again, if the anime does end up following the plot of the main story) would be the same. What would make the anime different from the manga, game, and light novel is largely the medium in which it is presented. I have talked about this at length in a number of older posts, but here is one example of how the manga, uses visual storytelling (as it is primarily a visual medium). A manga chapter is usually limited in length due to it being physically printed and shared in a magazine alongside other manga; there is therefore a constraint on how long-winded it can be, and its limited pages must be used effectively. We need to think about the strengths and the weaknesses of each individual medium and how those strengths and weaknesses affect how it might slightly change how TWST I presented.

An anime is able to incorporate animation with sound in a 20ish minute time slot to tell a tale. It gets the same benefits of the game, but far more freedom of movement. There is, however, also a time constraint to be considered. One complaint TWST often gets is that despite half of its core gameplay (I'm not going to count reading as gameplay) being rhythm games, the music the game has is NOT memorable. While the anime most likely won't have a ton of original songs, I hope that it can at least creatively incorporate some of TWST's scores as background tracks to fun scenes and make them more enjoyable that way. The anime will also be able to... well, be animated!! We won't get just a static screen where a maximum of three characters are crammed onto the screen at once staring back at you. It's okay to have in the game to save on time and budget, but you have to admit it does get boring to look at after a while. But with an anime production, we can get exciting lighting and camera angles that result in cool animation! I hope that this will really help the TWST characters' stories come to life on the screen ^^ One scene in particular that I hope the anime will adapt well is the VDC/SDC performances of RSA and NRC. The game tells us that RSA's performance is clumsy and amateurish, but it still managed to capture people's hearts. The game also tells us that NRC was not able to perform at their maximum capacity because they were already physically worn down from dealing with OB Vil. I want to see these descriptions actually be realized on screen (the Rhythmic/Twistune alone isn't enough), as it could help us better judge and have an enhanced understanding of the situation. I know a lot of fans who, to this very day, still feel that NRC was cheated of the win and shouldn't have lost to such a lackluster performance from RSA, so I'm hoping that a fully animated version might give us more perspective.

[msunitedstatesjames]

Frances Hardinge is a criminally underrated author. If you've never heard of her, I'm not surprised. Even though I'm in several fantasy book groups on Facebook with thousands of members, I've only ever seen one or two other members post about her. And yet, since I first read one of her books in 2020, I've bought every book she's published and read most of them.

Frances Hardinge, for those who've missed out, writes fantasy young adult books. Her books are extremely well written, romance free, unfailingly unique, and somewhat dark, all of which are qualities I find to be more and more rare in today's YA fantasy market (not to hate on YA, I've read tons of it). If you need a comparison, I would say aspects of her books remind me of YA/middle grade books by T. Kingfisher.

If I haven't convinced you yet, here's a little preview of some of her books that I've read:

A Face Like Glass (my personal favorite): A girl named Neverfell lives in a world where people have to be taught how to show emotion in their facial expressions. She has to wear a mask at all times because, mysteriously, she naturally shows facial expressions and if people found out they would freak. If that's not unique enough, this society is underground and produces magical artisinal goods, such as cheeses, wines, and perfumes that can do some wild things. If that still hasn't convinced you, the book critiques the privelege of the wealthy, as in this world only the rich can afford to hire Facesmiths to teach them expression, while the poor languish along with one or two facial expressions for their entire lives.

Fly by Night and Fly Trap (these might have different titles depending on where you are in the world): In a world where reading is illegal and seen as revolutionary activity, Mosca Mye escapes her awful life with her aunt and uncle by forcing an infamous conman (Eponymous Clent, this world has cool naming conventions) to take her under his wing. Joining them is Mosca's only friend, Saracen, the murderous goose. Yeah, you read that right. Highlights of the series include a heartwarming found family tale, an accidental revolution, a city that literally changes its population, personality, and shape when day changes to night, and, of course, an extremely violent goose. I mean, if you've read Pratchett, Saracen the goose is basically the Luggage. There's more than one scene in these books where all hope seems lost, and Mosca is like, "I guess it's up to you now Saracen," and she just straight up lobs her goose at the enemy and he utterly wrecks their shit. If I recall correctly, this happens once during a pitched river boat battle over an illegal printing press.

The Lie Tree: Faith's father, who refused to recognize her potential as a scientist, mysteriously dies. Faith discovers a tree he kept hidden that grows when you tell lies and reveals secrets in its fruit. The bigger the lie you tell the world, the bigger the secret that will be revealed. You can imagine the chaos that eventually ensues. This book critiques gender roles and discrimination, and tackles both the dangers and the necessity of telling lies.

Cuckoo Song: When Triss wakes up after apparently falling in a lake, everything seems wrong. She's missing memories, she has an insatiable hunger, dead leaves are mysteriously appearing in her room, and her sister claims she's a monster. Triss must piece together what's happening to her before it's too late. This book deals with the complexities of life with overbearing parents, siblings who've been pitted against one another, and families that have been torn apart by tragedy.

Verdigris Deep (another one that goes by different titles): A group of friends are cursed by a well witch after they take some coins from her well. She forces them to work for her by granting her wishes. Working with the witch gives them powers, but the wishes are getting increasingly complex. Does that guy really want a motorcycle or does he want to be someone else? And if he wants to be someone else, does that mean what he really wants is not to exist at all? This book deals with issues of self worth, power and control, and toxic friendships.

She has a bunch of other great books as well. So if you're looking for a unique fantasy story with adventure and no romance, definitely check some of Frances Hardinge's books out!

[iamcautiouslyoptimistic]

Deja Vu ~ Russell Adler x Female Reader

{Author's Note} This was inspired by @alypink's recent Adler render where he's leaning against a muscle car AND HOO BOY that put tons of thoughts in my head about a younger Adler before he heads off to Vietnam. Reader in this story dated him before he went off to war and they got together again after the events of the Cold War game. I probably got some timeline stuff wrong but I did my research and tried to keep it consistent lol. A horrendous sinus infection has given me a short break from school as I start some medications to clear it up so that means more time for writing! Anyway, I hope y'all enjoy this! I've got plenty of ideas for a younger Adler x reader series so expect more in the future! And let me know if you'd like to be removed or added to the tag list🫶🏻 I don't know if I managed to include everyone that I wanted to so please let me know! AND YES I'm using a Robert Redford gif because they're basically the same person in my eyes LOL {Tag List} @littlemissclandestine @alypink @mctvsh @adlerboi @deadbranch @a-small-writer-in-a-big-world @ghostlythots @glitterypirateduck

Russell Adler x Female Reader

❌Content Warning: none❌

~ ~ ~

1965

“When are you leaving again?” 

Adler sends you a glance through dark shades as you pass him a bucket full of water. He takes it easily, hefting it with little issue while you had struggled to lift it only moments ago. 

“In a month,” he responds and splashes the bucket’s contents across the windshield of his car. “Higher ups are gettin’ worried about the increased communist presence in Vietnam so they’re sending in some troops. I’ll be going on behalf of the CIA to do some recon and see if we can figure out what’s happening over there.”

You knew that already. He’d told you half a dozen times before but he answered you anyway. He knew how worried you were about the threat of impending war, especially when he was being sent into the midst of it with little choice to refuse. 

All you can manage is a nod as you focus on sponging down the window opposite him. He notices your silence and rounds the car, drying his palms on his already damp tank top. 

“I’ll be fine, sweetheart,” he murmurs softly as he grasps your chin and guides your face to look at him. You blink back tears and he wipes away the few that manage to escape with gentle thumbs. 

“Just gotta make sure the Soviets aren’t meddling in things,” he continues. “It shouldn’t take long.”

You nod as he caresses the curves of your cheeks. “I just want you to be careful.” 

And come back alive, you think to yourself. Come back to me. 

He leans to press a kiss to the crown of your head. “I will. Promise.”

His lips meet yours in a tender kiss, one that makes you smile and clears the mist from your eyes. 

“Now, help me finish cleaning this thing before Sims gets here. He needs to see this baby in all her glory.”

You laugh, feeling your heart lighten as Russ turns up the radio. He bobs his head to The Beach Boys song flowing through the speakers and you promise yourself to commit this moment to memory. The glint of his shades in the sunlight, the shimmer of golden hair as he pushes it off his forehead, the movement of his arms and back as he leans over the hood of his car. The image is imprinted in your mind’s eye for years to come.

~ ~ ~

1982

Adler has changed, though your memories of him have not. He’s still stubborn as a mule with an envy-inducing sense of style and a love for muscle cars. He’s older now, quieter and less open, scarred both physically and mentally after his time in Vietnam. His most recent escapade involved a former Soviet agent who he refuses to talk about so you don’t push the topic. You’re just happy he’s come back to you.

“You gonna keep staring or help me clean this thing?” Russ says with a slight smile. His shades reflect the sun the same way they did all those years ago and you hurry to his side, upping the radio’s volume on the way.

Russ likes to talk about cars and so you let him, enjoying the sound of his voice as he guides you through the inner workings of the machinery before you. He's gentle and careful with his movements, and you notice the serenity in his features. It was one of the few times he was able to relax, a brief moment where he didn't carry the world on his shoulders. You know he's not perfect, far from it, but he deserves this temporary peace and you're thankful that you're present to enjoy it with him.

“Do you know that I love you?” you ask suddenly. The comment makes Russ pause in his work, gaze lifting to yours as he straightens.

"That so?"

You giggle. "You're supposed to say it back, you know," you tease, fully aware of his tendency to play coy with this sort of thing.

He brushes stray strands of hair from your face, the pads of his fingers delicately tracing your features. He was hesitant to touch you these days, fearing you'd be disgusted by his calloused hands, but you made it a point to remind him that such things were a sign that he had survived and kept his promise to you, even if it had taken longer than either of you had anticipated.

"I love you, too," he murmurs, his voice a low whisper, as if he were afraid to release the phrase into the world where it could be taken from him.

You grin and lean to press a kiss to his scarred cheek, hearing his contented sigh as his arms settle around your waist. You promise to commit this moment to memory, just as you had countless times before, adding it to the complicated collection of images and sensations that made up Russell Adler.

[emblemxeno]

Honestly, just wanted to give you a shout-out OP. You're one of the few voices in this godforsaken series-wide fandom that are a voice of reason, though in all fairness a LOT more of you exists in the wild than one might think, you're in fact the majority of the series's fandom, you're just shunted out by the hardcore fans who don't get how subjectively driven FE is nor do they want to.

I think my biggest problem is just how much the fandom dismisses emotions as a weakness or mocks any types of sincerity as "cringe". They loved how "logical" and "serious" 3H was while leaving mockery for Fates and Engage (especially Fates) for being "cringe" and "unintentionally funny," and that to me probably speaks a lot, because I was mocked a ton and mass-downvoted for making an essay on Reddit FE giving my analysis on the story, with the top comment being "You can like the story, but you should admit it's objectively bad writing." Objectively bad what? I've given you evidence, citations and logic that dissects my essay as clear-cut as possible, and you fuckers dismiss the evidence as "invalid" even when it's text from the games. These people act like they're more in the know of the series than most when there's a massive amount of people on Reddit FE who thinks Nohr doesn't have a sun.

I think what pisses me off so much is that it's a classic case of high IQ but an abysmal EQ. They're genuinely capable of smart strategies, but are so dismissive of subjectivity, emotions and other feelings of sincerity as "weakness" despite that bleeding heart being the "core" of the series that they just... fucking ignore how it is their biases are being played to. And as somebody with a high IQ and higher EQ, it's infuriating. At least with somebody dumb but emotionally intelligent they know what they feel and are very nice and passive to people, and I say this as somebody who's worked with special needs kids who were so sweet and funny. But somebody who has high IQ and terrible EQ are insufferable, because they dismiss any understanding that may invalidate their own even with evidence, yet they cannot bring themselves to admit that they're driven by emotions and how unsatisfied they felt with Fates not being what they wanted it to be and just invented an "objective consensus" on the game that doesn't exist for the majority of fans who played it (who loved it, BTW), and why they dismiss evidence that contradicts their sentiments; they're so blind to how emotional they get over it they can't see it even when everyone else with a functioning EQ can, because they're deluding themselves thinking their take is the "truth" even when they're so blind to their own subjectivities or biases they still can't agree on basic lore within 3H to this day. And it's why I just can't help but treat them as more of an idiot than those special needs kids; at least the dumb kids have the emotional intelligence to know their dumb and when they're biased. While these people are allegedly so smart but run head-first into Dunning-Kruger effect while oblivious to their own emotions because they miss it. I still wont forgive the regular mockery of Fates' sincerity and bullying of anyone who adores the story like me, but it's enraging to see these people be so stupid. Again, I treat them as dumber than the special needs kids, because they are at least self-aware and not prone to making stupid decisions because they lack any kind of emotional self-awareness. It's infuriating to watch and makes me feel like Fugo does with Narancia's math problems in JoJo.

Point is, it's insanity that we have a series hard built on romanticist values of love, chivalry, emotions and subjectivity, enough so it blares itself in the theme song of Engage, contrasted with a fandom that not only tries to be a clinical and "objectively logical and factual" as possible, but are too blind to their emotions to realize how they're driven by their biases even when anyone with a functioning EQ can see it. They're legit the kinds of people who would be insufferable at a DnD tabletop game, and nobody would realistically put up with them.

As an aside, this is just a demonstration only of how devastating a low EQ can be to overall intelligence. Low EQ and low IQ is how you get Trump supporters.

Final question, is it true that Intelligent Systems strongly disliked 3H because of how much it goes against the core ethos and themes of the franchise? Because if that's true, then I have 100% faith in them to nail it with the next game, because they know this franchise better than 99% of the "hardcore" community and I think we don't have to worry about 3H making it soulless slop. Hell, those hardcore fans forget that 3H succeeded for the exact same reasons Fates did; waifuism and shipping sells. Given Engage lacked that superficial appeal (to most people, you and I are exceptions) and the gutting of romance in the international version I strongly believe was a reason why Engage didn't do as well as 3H or Fates. Shipping and waifuism sells, and you'd think they'd have realize that given the direct correlation they have in the fandom versus sales.

Hi, "EQ rant" dude. I reread my segment and I want to clarify that I'm not denigrating special needs kids or meaning to say "they're all dumb" when that's NOT the case. I've worked with special needs kids for years and I adore them, they're so sweet and kind. I apologize if that came off as ableist, as somebody with Autism I deal with internalized ableism a lot of the time, and I recognize my rant can be seen as dismissive by "calling them dumb" when I do NOT mean it like that. At all. I'm just saying that I'd sooner be friends with somebody who's special needs but emotionally kind and sweet versus somebody who's a genius but so emotionally immature they're blind to their own instances of idiocy. At least somebody who's special needs and emotionally self-aware, they know they can't do everything and ask other people for help. I've made a similar mistake with digging myself deeper earlier (you know which), so I wanted to clarify and apologize because upon rereading it, it implied intent that I didn't have nor mean in the slightest. xoxo

I'm glad I caught the second part of your message before the queue sent my response to the ask.

My original response to the first part was gonna start with a big rebukement of that section, and how it was not at all appropriate or necessary whatsoever. But knowing that you reflected and clarified makes a world of difference. I'd still advise not trying to incorporate those sentiments in the future, but we all have our journeys, so as long as you're working on it, that's what matters.

Getting to your points:

-I'm not versed well in the subject (nor do I want to paint people with a large brush), but I pretty much agree. The culture of earnest and emotion driven narratives being perceived as cringe needs to be evolved out of.

-The shout-out is appreciated. Yeah, I like to think that there are others who think like I do, it's just that louder, more well-known people and groups have more social capital to toss around and influence how the broader community might think and act. I know the first defense against that claim is commonly "we're not a hivemind!" but fun fact there's a LOT of space between hivemind and "Le Epic Independent Thinker *tips fedora*"

-I'm of the belief that the FE fandom is "shackled" to this idea that FE has always been incredibly grimdark in storytelling, and have criticized Awakening, Fates and Engage (as well as spinoffs like TMS and Warriors 1) for apparently not doing this.

Why I disagree with this mentality, is that 1) it's antithetical to the core themes of the series ever since FE1, that being establishing bonds/attachments to your fellow soldier/man can be the driving force to win wars and 2) it's not an either or scenario, nor has it ever been.

Awakening deals with severe generational trauma and the question of whether connections can really combat future fallout. Fates questions an established status quo of blood feuds and xenophobia. Engage proposes a narrative that seeks to uplift authenticity and self-actualization, even despite a tumultuous origin or upbringing.

On the flip side, plenty of the "serious, ultra lore, dark" FE stories have their silly moments too. FE4 has Lewyn playing hooky and whatever they were trying to do with Silvia. FE6 and 7 have dedicated music for silly characters and moments. Tellius has the Devdan/Danved gag, Lyre and Kyza fighting or Ranulf, Oliver, Ike and Micaiah's snark, etc. 3H has characters no less trope-y than other recent games (Raphael-Effie, Lorenz/Sylvain-Virion and Inigo, Caspar-Hinata and Vaike, Linhardt-Dwyer, Dorothea-Charlotte, etc.), it only avoids this reputation because the timeskip offers a unique opportunity to put that cast through the ringer.

Many times, the "objective" writing issues that people accuse the "poorly written" games of, are actually those of perception. Why do people believe that Engage treats its story with less gravity than 3H does, for example? It can't just be because there's a funny Yunaka scene or a campfire song about meat, right?

-I don't know if Intelligent Systems disliked/dislikes 3H. Certainly not from a financial standpoint, because it being a commercial success as well as it still pulling strong numbers for FE Heroes, means it has undeniable value in their eyes. From a creative standpoint though, no idea. I'll push back against the idea that 3H begets soulless slop, since my issue with it wasn't that it had a soul, it's that it doesn't have a strong core message because it's trying too many things at once, relying on "deep moments", lore catalogues, shocking twists, and answers to mysteries to actually say anything of substance.

I don't think waifuism really is the thing that sells most of all, though the relationship aspect definitely helps. I want more paired endings in future titles as well. The problem is that they need a consistent and active marketing presence for all their titles going forward, not just do it for 3H and then never again.

[sombra-conlangs]

I just had a thought I want to share: I don't think the conlang community is great at helping beginners to get into conlanging, and while the art form is kind of esoteric and requires lots of knowledge I also think there's probably better approaches for tackling the huge task of learning how to create an entire language.

I can't figure out a way to say it concisely, I'll just spew out all my thoughts on this so hopefully others can see where I'm coming from and share their thoughts, I'm curious to hear what y'all have to say.

First let's look at something that I've noticed is pretty common in other artistic hobbies and communities:

When people decide to learn a new skill there can be a lot of excitement that builds up initially, they may have never touched an instrument in their life but they have this burning desire to jump right into writing and recording an awesome guitar solo, just like the ones they hear in their favorite songs, or they may not have any drawing and writing experience at all but the first thing they wanna do is start working on an entire webcomic series drawn in a highly detailed art style because they came up with an idea for a story that would be amazing. Whatever the skill is, it happens often that someone sees a work of art that is so inspiring that they want to make something just like it themselves.

Of course, when people try a new art form for the first time the results don't tend to be very good, when you've never done a thing before it's unrealistic to expect yourself to be able to replicate the stuff that people with a few years of experience and practice can make.

And that can be a pretty frustrating experience because if someone tries their hardest to create that dream project of theirs with no experience it'll inevitably end up taking a huge amount of effort (due to the person not knowing how to do things in a more efficient way) and then it won't even be as good as they envisioned anyway, and some can walk away from these experiences with the impression that music is simply too hard or they're just not made to be artists or writers or game designers or whatever the craft is.

I think this is why when you take a class on the subject or you hear advice online people often try to get you to lower the scope of your first projects, they emphasize the importance of practicing your fundamentals first, because you may be super excited to jump right into painting hyper-realistic portraits, but if you don't build any familiarity with your tools and you don't train those basic skills you're never going to be able to turn the awesome idea in your head into a reality, and your expectations are going to be too high for you to enjoy the process because you just won't be able to meet those expectations.

Starting with a scope that is far too big ends up just being a frustrating experience that doesn't actually teach you a whole lot, you gotta work on a bunch of smaller, simpler stuff first before you move on to making more advanced things. In other words, you gotta build up to the higher levels, you don't start at level 100, you start at level 1 and then you slowly go up from there.

You may see where I'm going with this: we don't tend to do that in the conlang community.

People who become interested in making languages may be familiar with the concept of conlangs from hearing about Klingon, High Valyrian, Sindarin or similar works, and so they get excited to jump right into making a naturalistic artlang as their first conlang, or they may not even know what the term "naturalistic artlang" even means but they try to make a detailed, fully speakable language for a fictional setting, which is kind of the same thing, or at least it's in the same spirit.

I think tons of conlangers start that way (myself included), it's super common, but I had the realization earlier that starting with a naturalistic artlang is actually kind of crazy, that's a project with a huge scope, it requires you to have so much knowledge beforehand that I'd argue it's the equivalent of trying to play a Paganini piece live in front of an audience on your first time playing the violin ever, of course it's gonna be seen as an impossibly difficult or complex hobby, you're jumping into level 100 right off the bat, no wonder lots of conlangers end up hating their first conlang.

I legit had a moment earlier today when I was thinking "conlanging is not that hard, you just gotta learn the basics of IPA, then learn about syllable structure and phonotactics, then become acquainted with the different mechanisms of how sounds can change over time, then learn what a romanization is and how to make one based on your phonology, then learn how words get grammaticalized.. then learn about all the different types of writing systems... then... huh wait a minute..."

I had this realization that the amount of knowledge you're expected to learn on your first conlang project is kind of ridiculous, it's easy to lose track of how advanced the stuff you're doing is when you've grown so used to it, it's like that xkcd comic.

Yeah this one. Like, the diachronic method of conlanging might not seem that complicated if you're using it for the 47th time, but for a newcomer there are a ton of things they need to learn first in order to even start using the diachronic method.

And even if you don't evolve your conlang from a proto-language there's still a ton of details and moving parts in a naturalistic language: the syntax, the morphology, the phonology, the different levels of formality and social aspects, writing systems, etc.

I feel like trying to capture all of the different nuances of a natural language on your first attempt at a conlang is just too big of a scope in the same way that making your first videogame an open-world RPG with multiple endings tends to result in people quitting game development because they get overwhelmed with the amount of new information that they need to learn and so they lose all their motivation.

All of this came to my mind because I was having a conversation with someone who doesn't have a background in linguistics and I was trying to help them figure out how to make their first conlang, and as the conversation went on I realized that even the posts aimed at beginners I write on my wordpress site are actually way too detailed and complex, like, my post that teaches you to read IPA- let me stop right there, the fact that I have a single post where I expect people to be able to learn IPA just so that they can start conlanging says it all.

And ok, you may be thinking that's just a me issue, but honestly I started to re-watch various youtube videos on how to conlang aimed at beginners and I feel like if I had zero knowledge of linguistics I'd struggle to follow along with the majority of them, in each video there's usually multiple new concepts being introduced at a very rapid pace and a number of things that you're already assumed to be familiar with.

No shade at people like biblaridion and artifexian, I personally find their content helpful, my point is that most learning resources for beginner conlangers (including the stuff I make on my website) do this thing where they infodump a ton of technical information and introduce a lot of new jargon fairly quickly and while that can work for some people I'm starting to think that that's not the best way to go about things.

This may seem kind of random, but I remember this very old video by extra credits where they explained how a good tutorial in a videogame doesn't front-load all of the information you'll ever need, they segment it into smaller chunks so you only learn the few bits of information that are immediately relevant, you get to immediately apply that knowledge, familiarize yourself with the concept at your own pace, and then once you've had some time to play with it you are introduced to a new small bit of information. I know learning an artistic skill is not identical to learning how to play a game, but I find that I learn better this way in general, the knowledge just sticks more, I think that introducing concepts in more bite-size, applicable chunks would probably go a long way to make this hobby more accessible to more people.

Maybe we should be recommending newcomers to practice with naming langs, minimal conlangs, personal conlangs, relexes, ciphers, codes, or idk something else to let people become acquainted with the dozens of concepts that show up in languages in a way that doesn't immediately become overwhelming.

Like, maybe this is a hot take, but I feel like in order to make your first conlang you probably shouldn't even worry about what a place or manner of articulation is, you probably don't need to evolve it or add any irregularity or allophones or any of the stuff we're so used to including as conlangers, you can slowly learn those later.

Think about it, in order to learn how to draw realism you practice the most basic fundamentals first; drawing circles and cubes in perspective over and over again, trying to break down complex images into simple abstract shapes, etc. I think we could do the same in conlanging and teach the necessary skills with projects of a smaller scope.

I just remembered about quothalinguist's choose your own adventure type book for teaching beginner conlangers and I think that's awesome, I haven't read it but I definitely will, we should probably get more introductory material like that, stuff that's more manageable and doesn't require a huge time investment in order to teach you a lot, I think that's a really good approach.

And for that matter I've been curious about the conlang year thing, maybe that'd also be a more manageable way to introduce someone to conlanging.

Just spitballing a few ideas here but imagine teaching about basic morphology by encouraging people to make a sketchlang where they only use sounds present in their native language. Without needing them to know any IPA or anything about phonology you can get them started on experimenting with certain things, like putting words together, compounding, affixing, etc. Remember that the results don't have to be naturalistic, that's not the point, the point is to avoid the situation where people need to learn a thousand concepts before they can even set pen to paper, they get to start experimenting and playing with different concepts in a more manageable way.

Maybe as a way to slowly introduce people to the idea of phonological evolution someone could make a small set of proto-words using a very basic inventory like /p t k m n s j w a i u/ and then you give people a set of pre-designed sound changes to pick from, and they can mix and match which changes to apply and in what order, so this could be an exercise to get acquainted with the way that sound changes work and the way the order in which they happen matters.

Y'all can let me know if I'm not making any sense or if my ideas sound weird or bad, the main point that I want to make is that the way we approach teaching beginner conlangers seems to require a lot of front-loading of information, which is not great.

I honestly forgot how long it took me to learn everything that I currently know about conlanging, I only stuck with it because I had actually consumed a lot of pop-linguistics content before getting into conlanging, so I already had a lot of the knowledge you're expected to learn as a beginner, meaning that the infodumps weren't as much of a brickwall for me as they can be for other people.

I feel like with the way things currently are there's probably a subset of people who have tried to get into conlanging at some point but then gave up and left with the impression that it's simply too complicated and nerdy for them when that may not be the case, I don't think making a naturalistic conlang is that much harder than learning how to draw realistic portraits of people; sure it's hard and time-consuming but it's definitely doable if you practice all the fundamentals first.

In the art community there's people who try to keep their sketchbooks all pristine and perfect looking, but that's not actually super helpful for learning, sketchbooks are meant to be where you practice and get to experiment, it's ok if it's messy or ugly or disorganized, it's not meant to be where your masterpieces come from, it's generally understood within the art community that in order to make drawings that are very well made you have to go through a loooot of crappy, low quality drawings first.

I think that essentially what I'm saying is that there should be a way to encourage beginner conlangers to do the same, make the equivalent of little sketches and practice basic doodles instead of jumping into a highly detailed complex naturalistic artlang right off the bat, that could demystify the wonderful art that is language creation for newcomers.

[maleyanderecafe]

Hi! I've been craving some yandere content that's not manga, webtoon, manwa, etc. Do you have recommendations that are movies, tv shows, maybe some kdrama too? Just not manga, anime and the sort.

Sorry this one took a kabillion years to answer. Back in October, Cherry and I basically had a yandere movie month where we would just watch a bunch of movies that were labeled as Male Yandere movies because horror month (which is unfortunate for me because I don't really like horro movies). Anyways, besides the short list here that has some TV shows, here's some stuff we watched. Some of this will be later put in as recommendations, probably on Tuesdays.

Hush Little Baby- we're going to start out with some lifetime movies because they're low calorie and turn off brain fun to watch. About a neighbor kid who comes in to babysit the main character's kid only to cause problems to the entire family.

Swim at Your Own Risk- another lifetime movie. About a swim team girl who has a fling with the swim couch after taking a break with her boyfriend. Things go wrong as the swim couch gets obsessed with her.

You Belong to Me - another lifetime movie. About a lady who finds out that someone is stalking her and tries to figure out who it is after they try to murder her boyfriend.

Addicted/Obsessed- Addicted is the korean movie and Obsessed is the English remake. About twins, one of which is married to the female lead, where they both have an accident. The husband dies, however, the other seems to have been possessed by the husband.

LadyHawke - older movie, but the yandere is the main villain. About a main character who escapes prison and finds a couple who is cursed to turn into a wolf and hawk respectively during the day and night, fated to never be together.

Well Intentioned Love- Chinese drama, though the yandere portion only really shows up in the first season. About a girl who has lukemia and has to have a contract marriage with the only person who can give her a doner bone marrow match. Driver is best character.

Disco Pigs- Pretty surreal movie in some cases. About two childhood friends, Pig and Runt who love each other as Pig becomes more and more obsessed with her as the movie goes on.

Labyrinth - I probably won't write a recommendation for this one because the yandere portion really only shows up in the song, but it's still a fun movie with David Bowie. I even read the comic for it just to check but the yandere portion seems to only show up in the song.

The Boy - I actually watched this with another friend that was obsessed with wallmen, but its a pretty fun movie overall. I think most people know this one though. About a lady who moves in and babysits a doll while trying to escape her abusive ex.

Within - also another movie I watched with my wallmen obsessed friend. About a family that moves into a house that turns out to be haunted in one way or another.

What If…Dr. Strange Lost His Heart Instead of His Hands? - Sorcerer Supreme in general in general seems like a yandere since his entire goal is to just bring back Christine at all costs. He also just generally shows up in other episodes of the What If? Series.

Heathers - I heard the movie version isn't nearly as yandere, but the musical version is for sure.

Phantom of the Opera- I'm kind of cheating with this one because it's like one of the OG male yandere stuff, but hey, if you haven't heard or watched it yet, well you know.

That's about it for now since usually Cherry and I don't watch a ton of movies. Might change after a while, but we'll see. Maybe in February we'll try to have a tv drama month to watch stuff.

[catenary-chad]

@dream-girl-evill wanted to see the Freight rewrite I did from a while ago that does some major revisions to the passenger/freight dynamic more accurate to real life (though mostly US based). Major note that this is from a wider rewrite with some massive roleswaps and a pretty weird character lineup, though this song is one of the less drastically changed. Ft. Coaches being more annoyed by freight being slow and blocking their way than calling them stupid, Rockies are no longer anti-homeless because a lot of railroaders aren’t really bothered by freight hoppers as long as they don’t cause trouble. I play fast and loose with British vs American train terms because that’s quietly accepted precedent in the show.

context: Jojo is a genderblind cafe car who’s basically a play on the “barista with two degrees” joke and is the intellectual of the coaches. Slick is similar to Devious Diesel from the Railway Series/Thomas in this rewrite because I think being a conniving cartoon villain just works for a symbol of Big Oil. Curie the Nuclear Flask (also genderblind role) is the Dustin/Hydra figure, a heavy, shy freight car that others are scared of for anti-nuclear reasons. Uranium flasks are hilariously overbuilt and safe and there’s been some WILD tests involving smashing them with 100 mph locomotives. They get There’s Me because the vague themes of that song are weirdly appropriate for nuclear power.

DINAH: Oh no!

JOJO: Oh shucks!

PEARL: It's the freight train…

DINAH: It’s the right kind of trucks (shrug)

JOJO: A thousand tons of iron and chrome

PEARL: Blocking the way when you try to get home!

DINAH: Always acting like they’re the boss

PEARL: Well, we’re the ones running at a loss…

JOJO: Til they’re gone and clear our station

Want some thoughtful conversation?

TRUCKS

Freight is great

Freight is great

We carry weight 'cos we are freight

(can’t they hurry up already?)

And freight is great.

Freight is great

Freight is great

We never sulk.We hulk the bulk.

(we can’t make our timetables like this)

'Cos freight is great.

We never make a fuss. We got the goods on us.

We take the loads from off the roads

And freight is great.

COACHES

That may stand for gravel and sand,

Speed ignored with no-one aboard,

Nobody complaining you were late again.

You can wait, carrying freight, too many, leaning on me.

When you are a living, breathing passenger train.

TRUCKS

Freight is great.

Freight is great.

TRUCKS / COACHES

Freight/That may stand for gravel and sand,

Speed ignored with no-one aboard,

Is great/Nobody complaining you were late again

We carry weight/You can wait, carrying freight, too many, leaning on me.

And freight is great/When you are a living, breathing passenger train.

It's mommas and poppas/ it's commerce and hoppers,

It's daughters and sons/it's quarters and tons,

They get in your hair/it's the fun of the fair,

Freight!/Folks!/Tares!/Fares!

Passengers, commuters and mail/

Trees and meat, gravel and shale/

Are great, are great, are great, are great, are great!

CONTROL

Control. Control. You all cut it out and learn to get along!

Trucks will identity themselves. Box cars:

ROCKY I

I'm Rocky, there's lots like me.

ROCKY II

I'm Rocky two.

ROCKY III

I'm Rocky three.

ROCKIES

The only time we get folks inside

Is when some bum hitches a ride.

The crawling feeling makes us itch

But we say nothing- we don’t snitch!

TRUCKS

Freight is great!

CONTROL

Brick car!

FLAT-TOP

Flat-Top - who you looking at?

Yeah, they're bricks - what's wrong with that?

No, you're right, they don't all match.

Yes they're heavy - here, catch!

TRUCKS

Freight is great!

CONTROL

Oil tanker!

SLICK: I’m oily, sleek and quick, guess that’s why they call me Slick

Think you can stop your reliance on me?

BAHAHAHAHAHA- I’ll just wait and see!

ALL TRUCKS

Always can, depend on me

Pillars of society

Out of water

There’s nothing else smarter

To haul bulk goods across the land

CURIE

Down the track

To A and B and back

The folks all gasp

when they perceive the flask

(Train screams and breaks up leaving Curie alone, percussion ends)

They go and turn to run

Because they 

know I’ve got

Ur-a-ni-um!

(Curie!  Oh no!  Curie!)

No need to fuss 

I’m very hard to bust

And I’ve passed all the tests

to show that-

OTHERS:  Get out of here, get out of here, nobody’s racing with nuclear fear, 

Rusty: Haul them away, I’ll haul them away

OTHERS: Good!  Get!  

CURIE: But, what-

Tested for safety, can’t I be free? from scru-ti-ny

Passed all my tests, tougher than the rest, please no wor-ries!

(Pulled offstage)

(Music slowly gets back to pace)

COACHES AND TRUCKS

It's mommas and poppas/ it's commerce and hoppers/

It's daughters and sons/it's quarters and tons/

They get in your hair/it's the fun of the fair/

Freight!/Folks!/Tares!/Fares!

Passengers, commuters and mail/

Trees and meat, gravel and shale/

On the rails, on the rails, on the rails, on the rails

Are great, are great, are great, are great, are GREAT!

[felixcloud6288]

PMMM Episodes 1-4 recap

Before I continue watching Puella Magi Madoka Magica, I want to gather my thoughts so far.

I think it's worth pointing out that I knew the basic premise going into the story and I know it's a deconstruction of the Magical Girl genre. I also know Kyubey is not a benevolent being. But I don't really know anything else.

I've seen a lot of fanart of Madoka in her magical girl attire so I'm genuinely surprised the series isn't her taking the deal on day 1 and going on magical adventures. Instead, the conflict seems to be Kyubey trying to get Madoka to become a Magical Girl while Homura tries to stop her from doing so.

The song that was playing during the cold opening in episode 1 is also the second ending theme, so I'm expecting that scene is near the end of the series and Madoka still hadn't become a magical girl.

I kind of think Kyubey is full of shit when he talks about granting wishes. He made his offer to Mami when she was about to die in a car crash and tried to get Sayaka and Madoka to make a contract when Mami was killed by a witch. These were situations where they had nothing to gain but everything to lose if they didn't accept his contract (By the way, the technical term for this is a Leonine contract).

He does have magical abilities as proven when he healed Kyosuke's arm but he seems to try putting his targets in situations where he effectively doesn't have to do anything for them.

I'm also curious about those soul gems. Anything called a soul gem is obviously bad. And magical girls need to constantly recharge them using grief seeds. So do they have their souls placed in those gems and they die if they run out of magic? Also, the animation when Mami used the grief seed showed something flowing OUT of the soul gem. So does using magic cause some sort of negative buildup in their souls?

I'm kind of curious what those witch runes all say. At the very least, the witches are all using the same alphabet though they're all using different fonts. The witch in episode 4 is exceedingly chatty compared to the previous ones since there's tons of writing during its scene.

But since I don't know what language everything is supposed to be in, it would be hard to transcribe everything. For all I know, everything is in German.

And speaking of the witches, each of them has a different theme about their domains, personalities, etc. But they all seem to have an obsession over something.

The one from episode 2 seems obsessed with flowers and gardening. It got really upset when Mami damaged the flowers.

The one from episode 3 is obsessed with food, especially desserts. Strangely, its familiars look like mice. Not really sure how they tie into the food theme.

The one from episode 4 has the least cohesive theme but I want to say they have an obsession with dolls and games. The gameboy directional pad is a recurring pattern in their domain and several background elements had an NES/SNES sprite design to them.

I guess my last thoughts so far are going to be toward the art and music. PMMM has a very distinct art style. If you know what PMMM is, you'd definitely recognize any screenshots or fanarts that it is PMMM.

Most of the budget probably went into the witches. The animation tends to be a little off-model from time to time. But the animation team knew where to put their focus because motion is wonderfully fluid.

A few weeks ago, I mentioned rewatching .hack//SIGN and realizing that that anime was very formative in the kind of media I like, and this show is hitting the same brain chemicals. If I were ten years younger, I can imagine watching this show and it being what forms the basis of what I like in story-telling media. I love the music (Yuki Kajiura made the music for this and .hack//SIGN), I love the disorienting animation style with the witches, and I love how there's clearly so much more to this story and it would require a second rewatch to fully understand everything.

I get why this is such an iconic anime despite it being so short.

back

[lightflame]

Tagged by @bagadew (Also tagging in @waermeflasche because you tagged me weeks ago and I didn't get back to you)

Last song I listened to: Soap by The Oh Hellos. I burn CDs and listen to them in my car. (The first few I tried to give themes and titles, and select the perfect song orders, but ended up kind of bad and the other was cursed and wouldn't play even though I remade it three times, so I just switched to throwing a ton of songs together on "Random Mixes" and enjoying.) I was listening to my very first random mix on the drive home from work and this one came up. It's a pretty snazzy song. I think Theseus and Hello, My Old Heart are my favourites from the band.

Last book I read: Can I do a couple? I just recently finished Play of Shadows by Sebastien de Castell. It's the first book of Court of Shadows, the sequel series to his Greatcoats series. Greatcoats is one of my favourite series, filled with swashbuckling action, clever humour, and an absolutely miserable protagonist, Falcio val Mond, who always manages to get back up and keep going anyway. I read everything de Castell writes, and after a string of books with severe pacing problems (check out The Malevolent Seven for a book that doesn't have a second act) and other problems (I have a hard time seeing any book topping Crucible of Chaos as the worst book I've read this year), he finally seems to be back. The book didn't pack quite the emotional punch of some of his other books, but it definitely made me want to jump up and cheer for the heroes at the end.

The other book I just finished is The Warm Hands of Ghosts by Katherine Arden. I liked her Winternight Trilogy (look it up and be prepared for some absolutely gorgeous covers, with prose to match), so I was excited to see something new from her. This book was about World War I, with some fantasy elements used for magic realism. (Portraying a soldier's struggle with addiction and PTSD through the lens of him losing his soul to the devil was a brilliant idea.) I most subsist on a steady diet of fantasy books, but this one had me hungering to read a few more historical books. I might have to pick up some books about the Halifax Explosion.

Last film I watched: I haven't watched much on my own for a while, but my friends do a movie night every Sunday. The last two times I tuned in, we watched Jesus Christ Superstar and Pokemon 3: Spell of the Unown. They were both fairly cute movies. I liked Judas's actor.

Last TV series I watched: I've been making my way through The Office for the first time. I'm on Season 3 and this happened to me, actually. There was some stuff I was like, "Wow, that was funny. I should tell my coworkers about it," but then I realized that I can't be the guy who tells his coworkers about this funny new show called The Office.

Last video game I played: If visual novels count, Umineko. I've been working my way through it slowly for about five and a half years and I'm finally closing in on the end. It's peak fiction and the greatest love story of the twentieth century. It's also funny I picked a game this insanely long for my first visual novel. Other than visual novels, I just finished Pokemon Legends: Arceus, after putting in 104 hours this year. Completing the Dex is my favourite part of any Pokemon game, so having it be more involved and include a big checklist made the game basically crack for me. I've also been casually playing some Star Wars: Battlefront II (2005) with my brother. Every time we play it, I'm always amazed by how good it is and how much content it has. I want to take command posts forever.

Last thing I googled: "Dandadan Aira". I just started the manga the other day and I like her best, so I wanted to double check her full name, I think? Other than that I'm mostly looking up when books are available at my local stores. I've been religiously checking when The Book that Broke the World will be available and I'm not even sure if I'm buying it.

Last thing I ate: A few snacks from my snack drawer. I also had a Quaker yogurt bar at work. I bought a big box of them last year, but I had to throw them out because of the Salmonella. (Chewed through a lot of them before that came out, though, including eating three on an airplane.)

Amount of sleep: Supposedly seven hours, since I went to bed right after finishing The Warm Hands of Ghosts last night. The only problem is that if I get to bed at a good time, I sleep fitfully, so I'm either sleeping poorly or sleeping well, but not getting anywhere near enough sleep.

Currently reading: I started Empire of Silence, the first book of The Sun Eater by Christopher Ruocchio, at work today. I've had the first three books sitting on my shelf for a year or two and I finally got around to starting it. (I'd resolved to do both this series and Kushiel's Legacy this year, after having both for so long, and I got that one done at the start.) I'm not very far in, but I enjoy the writing style a lot, even if a lot of the worldbuilding is obviously cribbed from Dune. (Whoa, look, mentats.) I've heard it picks up a lot in the second book, so I'm excited for what's in store for me.

Passing this on, I'll tag @somerunner @lyssq @soulsinshadow @lunawithsocks and @dancerladyaqua. (They also have currently watching and sweet, salty, or savoury as questions, which I didn't do.)

[volkswagonblues]

god i could ask every single q on that ask meme but for the sake of not sounding obsessed. 1, 4, and 11 for let the rock roll?

let the rock roll (Interview with the Vampire)

1. What is a piece of symbolism in your fic?

There's one small thread I amused myself by weaving in, and it's Armand's lowkey reoccurring fascination with blue skies and birds. I think it's one of the many tiny pieces of the original Devil's Minion short story I put in as easter eggs,

For context, the QOTD!Armand gets obsessed with modern technology and the story describes it this way:

“Anything with blue skies enthralled him. Then he must watch news programs, prime time series, documentaries, and finally every film, regardless of merit, ever taped.” (Queen of the Damned)

But for LTRR human!Armand, I liked the idea of the blue sky as a symbol for everything he was denied in his life: being forced to stay in the ship's hold as slave, being turned into a vampire and unable to see the sun for years, etc. And tied up with that image is some stuff about birds too--chap 1's turning scene has Daniel unlocking a rare Arun memory, where he's chasing some birds as a very small child. Birds represent freedom and home for Armand, but he himself doesn't know that. Something like that.

4. What's something you've researched but haven't incorporated into your fic?

OH MY GOD SO MUCH. Daniel's random backstory tidbit where he lived in Paris as young man, because the show really made it sounds like he's very familiar with the city. I wrote a really long conversation between Armand and Daniel that's basically a long bait and switch for 1970s Devils Minion (as in, the fan theory that Armand and Daniel were lovers for a decade before Armand wiped his memories).

Armand says, “It was the late seventies and you were in Paris. The summer of 1979, to be exact. You were sick of America and you thought that Europe would offer you something you lacked, so you joined the many young American artists and writers before you and bought a one-way ticket to Paris. Your money didn’t last as long as you thought, and work was slow. A friend of a friend got you a job as a switchboard operator at the local bureau of the New York Times, working the graveyard shift from 6 pm to 1 am. You didn’t mind. You liked arriving at the Right Bank building when everyone was leaving. You enjoyed being awake when the normal world was asleep. You read books and listened to your pocket radio playing jazz and old French songs you didn’t understand.”

“Yeah,” Daniel says. “I wrote about Paris in my book. That New York Times gig. I walked home every night because the Metro stopped running by that time. Got mugged twice."

"You didn't write about this night."

To be clear, 70s DM absolutely did not happen in LLTR. That would have been just WAY too much to unpack. But I just like 1970s Paris so I might recycle this whole thing for a sequel one day.

Also there's a ton of stuff about Renaissance Italy that I cut. I'm worried the fic has too much "Armand just monologuing about Venice while Daniel goes 'un-huh, and then what?' :)".

11. Is there anything important in your fic you think readers have missed/overlooked?

A lot of stuff about Daniel, I think. He is very fucked up about death. He's terrified of mortality, which I thought was THE defining character trait of the original QOTD Daniel. He's not joking when he keeps offering to turn Armand.

Related to that, he was also a truly terrible father, I think that part of his character is just not as interesting compared to the Armand/Daniel psychosexual mind games, but it's there. From the scraps of info we get about Alice in the show, I got the sense that Daniel's one of those terrible men who's great "when he's in the room"--he can pull off being romantic and charming (he scraps gum off Alice's shoe! He books the perfect table in the bistro!) but he's an addict to drugs and to success and the act inevitably collapses. But there's hope, becoming a vampire at 70 really reconfigures one's life priorities.

And lastly, I also cut the scene that explores this more, but the reason Daniel is like this is that he's repeating patterns of behaviour from his own parents. There's stuff about his Irish-Armenian background I wish I explored more. In 2 separate scenes, he thinks about his curly hair and his green eyes as the only good things his father and mother left him, which to him are just assets to better sell his body--so, that's fucked up!! Also, his father was definitely an alcoholic. The poison drips through....

[not-poignant]

Hi, Pia.....Do you mind if I ask your top 10 favorite characters (can be male or female) from all of the media that you loved (can be anime/manga, books, movies or tv series)? And why do you love them? Thanks if you want to answer...

Hi anon!

So... they change and tbh I'm going to forget a ton of characters I love and then scream in my head later like 'oh no but THAT character and THAT character and THAT character' but I'll do my best!

Kiriyama Rei from March Comes in Like a Lion - Probably my favourite character possibly of all time. Introverted, kind of ace-coded right up until the end of the manga when it changes (and since the anime never ended he stays ace-coded throughout that lmao), very human, extremely depressed, and I just think he's a very good depiction of like...what it's like to live with extremely repressive depression and post-trauma while not necessarily knowing you have those things.

Dazai Osamu from Bungou Stray Dogs - He's a brilliant intellect genius with too much ability to know so much about the world that he kind of ends up suicidal all the time due to his upbringing / some of the things he's done and also what he's experienced. I just enjoy him. (Notable runner up here is Nakahara Chuuya but dslkajf)

Felix Harrowgate from the Doctrine of Labyrinths trilogy - Angsty, PTSD, waspish, 'I'm going to hurt you because I was hurt and then hate myself and do very self-destructive things about it but keep that part a secret so I just look like a constant dickhead,' brilliant, very good at magic. Love this dude. Would walk hundreds of miles for this dude, like the song. Would definitely write a long-ass fanfic about him.

Daeshik from Love So Pure - I love this guy SO much. He's a side-story / secondary pairing in the manhwa but I LOVE him because he's so against type. He's dorky but not in a very cute way, he's overbearing, he's SO neurodivergent coded it's painful and sometimes hilarious, he's determined and ambitious, he's not 'hot' in any typical kind of twink way, and I know he's split the fandom between 'god he's so annoying' and 'Daeshik is the BEST.' The whole webtoon is fucking amazing anyway, but Daeshik has my whole heart in his journey from 'dorky annoying overbearing friend' to 'oh I just realised I'm gay and now everything is Pride Pride Pride and I'm definitely crying next to a dildo I bought that was too big for me.'

Presenting Daeshik:

You'll never guess what he's sitting on sdlkjfas (he fails abjectly and then cries about it in a way that's kind of hilarious honestly).

Dana Scully from The X-Files - I didn't know it at the time, but this was very much my bisexual awakening. I mean I'm pretty heavily ace now, but I'm mostly not into cishet dudes, and I had pictures of Scully up on my wall like how did I not fucking know. Anyway, scientist, smart, 'so done with your shit' and just wry and witty and *clenches fist* so short and tiny and powerful. I love her. (And Gillian Anderson).

Loki from the MCU - Not necessarily every iteration, but I do love how Tom Hiddleston plays him, and I appreciate the queerer representation. Adore this guy. Look at him, what an absolute dickhead of a god. 10/10 would read him in hurt/comfort fics and PWPs again.

Hyunsoo Seo and Youngchan Baek from Perfect Buddy / XXX Buddy - Possibly my favourite manhwa of all time and I really hope that stays true because it's not finished yet. Idk how to describe these characters because they're both very complex as you get to know them better, but basically 'angry wet cat man with past trauma that he hides exceptionally well vs. Gwyn-dimensioned blond puppy dog who is just pretending to be a puppy dog because he knows exactly how threatening he is and is willing to be to protect the people he loves.'

Murderbot in the Murderbot novella series - I think all of us - or most of us - find Murderbot incredibly relatable and that's refreshing as fuck in any novel series tbh. (ART as runner-up though, love that fucker).

Sebastian Michaelis from Kuroshitsuji / Black Butler - Honestly there were a lot of kind of 'extremely powerful but kind of shitty fuckboys' I wanted to put in this category including Gojou Satoru from JJK, Reigen from MP100, and even Louis from Beastars, but Sebastian's gonna win out because I still don't know if he's going to eat Ciel at the end of that series and I very much love not knowing because he's such a devious fuckhead. Love that not-actually-a-man.

Yuurakutei Yakumo (Kikuhiku) from Shouwa Genroku Rakugo Shinjuu - I just... *flails* Almost no one has seen this anime series and it kind of kills me because firstly the books were written by someone practiced in writing BL and even though this isn't BL you can still tell the vibes are there. Secondly, one of the most ace-coded characters ever. Gender-fuckery abounds, which is fun. Thirdly just, honestly, more folks should watch this?

There were a lot of characters I know I missed but I'm pretty satisfied with this list.

I've just given myself a bunch of stuff to rewatch and reread because of this anon! :D

[helenofjupiter]

assigning taylor swift songs to bridgerton couples (part 2)

with explanations that no one asked for (proceed with caution)

part 1 for a, b, c and d

eloise & phillip - i hadn’t even read the book and i knew paris was their song. i feel it captures their essence. “no, i didn't see the news 'cause we were somewhere else” while benophie are just as deep in the countryside, i think philoise truly don’t care about anything that goes on in the ton. “i want to brainwash you into loving me forever” i’m not sure why this line in particular stands out to me in context of their relationship. maybe because going into it they both had their agenda. also phillip constantly thinking he has to find a way to make eloise stay forever. “confess my truth in swooping, sloping, cursive letters” i think this one is self explanatory. secondly electric touch, i was hesitant about this one cause i’m just not a fan of this song sonically but the lyrics were too on point. “just breathe, just relax, it'll be okay // just the first time ever hanging out with you” - eloise sitting in her carriage on the way to meet a man who basically proposed to her without meeting once. from phillip’s “i've gotten used to no one callin' my phone” when eloise shows up and the servant’s “hey, we got a caller” and phillip going “wtf no one comes here, you sure about that”. also “i've grown accustomed to sleeping' alone” yeah eight years will do that. “i was thinking, just one time maybe the stars align, just one time and maybe I call you mine” 

francesca & michael - so i have a story regarding this one. as i got to the second half of the book and the spice started flooding in, i felt like the need for some equally sexy music in the background and i remembered (honestly don’t know how i ever forgot) the altarpiece of taylor’s music  false god. truly all the stars aligned, while i read the words “she felt cherished. worshipped. loved” miss taylor swift sang “we'd still worship this love”. other than that it does fall into the vibes category. tho if one day we are blessed enough to actually get their season i am expecting every social media feed to be drowning in edits of  franchel to this song. but also alternatively to don’t blame me. again, sexy. well the spice in this book was just on another level and i also couldn’t figure out if taylor has a song about being in love with your cousins spouse for six years. i think this is more from michael’s perspective. i mean “i've been breaking' hearts a long time” he even broke mine by being fictional. “if you walk away i'd beg you on my knees to stay” michael stirling would absolutely do this and frankly i can’t stop picturing it. if we do get to them in the show some glorious day, this is my official plea to include this song in the soundtrack. 

gregory & lucy - speak now is the somewhat lazy choice but have you read the prologue timed to this song. “i hear the preacher say, "speak now or forever hold your peace"” the church went silent “there's the silence, there's my last chance. i stand up with shaky hands, all eyes on me” the priest stopped his drone, and every spine in every pew twisted until every face was turned to the back. to him. “horrified looks from everyone in the room but i'm only looking at you” she said nothing, but he saw her. // she looked so beautiful. i rest my case. it was really hard to pick a song for them because there’s so many twists and turns in the book so my honourable mentions are haunted (when gregory convinced everything is solved and then lucy goes and marries another man) and daylight. finally i settled with ivy. “my pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand, taking mine but it's been promised to another” i mean lucy has been promised to another man from the start of the book. it just fits them, okay (can you tell i’ve been writing this for four hours at this point).

hyacinth & gareth - dear god, hyacinth is my favourite character in the whole books series. i adore her but for the love of god i could not figure out what songs to choose for hyareth. it was truly a headache and if anyone has any suggestions, please do not hesitate to tell me. because they are such a chaotic and energetic duo, i wanted something that would fit them musically but ended up picking cowboy like me and peace. both are truly in the vibes category, i don’t have much of an explanation. in cowboy like me “and the skeletons in both our closets plotted hard to fuck this up” felt kinda reminiscent of the whole polt line with gareth and his father who wasn’t really his father. peace has a little more substance to it. in my head this is more from hyacinth, she is wild and you will never get bored with her but she can also be a lot and tiring. “you know that i'd swing with you for the fences, sit with you in the trenches. give you my wild, give you a child” this is who hyacinth is, she is a ride or die, and i truly believe she would sit in the trenches with gareth.