#and some of you just. again. follow some sort of hivemind where you’re just agreeing with what someone else said about something

[quillkiller]

One thing i find so interesting about feminism today is it’s like you can’t even say women are victims anymore. you say women are abused by men and people scream their heads off about how men can be victims and suddenly without anyone realizing the narrative shifted and now women are not allowed to be the oppressed minority anymore bc everyone will try to explain it away. it’s all white women tears or rich women etc. so people act like you’re Insane for saying maybe we should look out for celebrity women lol

!!!!!!!! ive been saying

it’s so fucking depressing!!! it’s like the whole amber heard thing all over again. people see it trending on tiktok that now we’re all supposed to hate her so that’s what im gonna do Lol 😝😝 without even reading up on the case and forming YOUR OWN OPINION ???? like what are we DOING !!!!! and like especially with these people who came crawling back saying like wahhh i take it all back i was just following the hype / i support amber heard now 😞 IDGAF !!!!! like you actively joined a movement that literally bullied a victim to domestic abuse. all because you couldn’t take the time to read up on the whole thing and form your own opinion ?? yall were THAT ready bully and laugh and point your fingers at a woman .. yall are not seeing heaven .

and like people just. do that. and it’s the same thing with the chappel roan situation. people aren’t paying real attention to what she’s saying and then there’s a whole hive of people ganging up on her and people get on that shit without even forming their own opinion on the matter. YALL JUST HATE WOMEN !!! how do you guys not SEE THIS PATTERN !!! a woman (celebrity) is celebrated for a while until it reaches some sort of peak and then everyone is turning on her all at once ???? it happens ALWAYS??? and it is not fucking lost on me that both amber heard and chappel roan are queer women lmao. like yeah people hate on other female celebrities too but not to this fucking degree

[gwaciechang]

I Don't Wanna Go Home (1/15?)

So, this is probably going to be my most ambitious project ever. I'm going to do a fusion of the video gave Subnautica Below Zero, with the characters from Cloverfield Paradox. You don't have to have played Below Zero first, although it would certainly help. Also, as someone who has played the game, I tried my best to explain everything, which is why the first few chapters are going to be really slow, and why everyone talks so much. I also made a change to the canon of the first Subnautica: instead of Riley curing Kharaa, it was the precursors.

So, a few more things before we start this chapter. I hate "y/n l/n" stuff, so I just call the pov character Ling Tam. I don't think anybody actually uses that name in the story, but that might change, and in any case, you're free to replace her name with any name you like. Also, reader is in a relationship with Mundy at the start of the story, although that, obviously, won't last because it's endgame reader/Schmidt. Okay, that's everything, enjoy, and let me know if you want to be tagged.

@hope-to-hell @vicanth @feralrunaway @october505 @potentialproblem01

"Hey, Monk, you told me to come get you if that weird signal showed up ag-" you stop when you see the vehicle technician on the radio.

"When are you going to send me some more art? There's still a patch of bare wall here that could use some color and a touch of genius!" Monk says, probably to his kids, as he waves you away. You close the door as silently as you can, and not a second too soon, because Mundy opens the habitat door and stomps his way inside with a box. Behind him, you can see the prawn suit, with several other boxes still tied to its massive arms. There's an inquisitive face popping out of the water that you decide not to tell him about. Why shouldn't the creatures have a little fun?

"Another day, another slight by the winged furies," Mundy grumbles.

"Another interference alert?" you ask, trying to lay the sympathy on thick before you inevitably burst into laughter.

"As usual," the xenobiologist sighs theatrically. "Also as usual, I went out to see what the problem was. And, of course, it was-"

"Frozen stalagmites of feathered bird excrement," the two of you say together.

"I fear the career impact of saying this officially-"

"If you can even call what you have a career," you interrupt, getting yourself a faceful of dirty towel.

Besides throwing the thing you're really hoping he hadn't just used to wipe up bird shit in your face, your boyfriend continues as if you'd never spoken. "I could swear they're targeting me personally. The week I was out with a flu, I came back to find the tower spotless. Monk laughed at me when I asked him how he'd cleaned it. Silly me!"

"As if Monk would ever clean anything," you agree. "What are you going to do?"

"There's nothing left for me to try but quitting. But I know that's what the birds want me to do," he shakes his fist at the sky as he walks back outside to retrieve the final box.

You turn back to the screen and wonder about the signal again. It's been appearing on and off for days, ever since you got the radio tower up and running, and what would a repeat call be besides a distress signal?

"Ah jeez, these sea monkeys are going to get me in trouble," the box in Mundy's hands is scratched through in places. "This is the third shipment that those buggers have gotten their weird little hands into! Now we're running low on flares and I'm going to have to search nearby nests for stolen cargo," he sighs as he drops a mangled box on the top of his cluttered workstation. It makes a bang that would have disturbed Monk, if he weren't on the radio, or Schmidt, if he were a normal person who came back from work at normal hours. As it is, there's just you to look at him, a welcome break from potential distress signals and what they might mean.

"Just put some of your drawings on the tower, they'll be too scared to go near it!"

"Ha ha," Mundy says sarcastically, before going outside to park the prawn-

"Oh, for fuck's sake! It’s fucking gone!"

You and Monk, still on the radio, step outside, but sure enough, the prawn suit has disappeared without a trace, as far as you can tell.

"I'm still trying, quietly--I don't want any more trouble--to figure out where I went wrong. I was sure Tam had picked up a distress signal!" Monk bends down to peer at the tracks. "I was right on top of it. And then it just," he gets to the edge of the glacier, stands up, and shakes his head, "it just stopped. What if one of the precursors is still down there? And how could a hivemind alien race so advanced that they singlehandedly ended a galaxy wide pandemic leave someone behind? I'll probably be home before I ever get to find out, and it will fall to some future researcher to come and find out, I guess, I hope," he waves the two of you back into the habitat and closes the door. "But that means I'll get to be with you little rascals." His voice fades and disappears.

"So, game tonight?" you ask, hoping to erase the distress off Mundy’s face.

"That'd be nice," he says with a weak smile, just before Jensen slams her door open.

"Mundy, inside!" barks the overseer of operations.

Mundy sighs and drags his feet as he walks into Jensen's office. No sooner has she closed the door with a snap than you and Monk have your heads pressed against the door.

"Mundy, I'm not blaming you, but what do you mean, 'it's gone?' Where did it go? You had trouble retrieving the drop pod and decided to jettison the prawn suit?"

"I didn't jettison the prawn suit! I left it outside to put the supply drop away, went back for it, and it was just gone! Someone must have stolen it."

"Who? Who else do you think is on this planet besides the five of us?"

"It could be a creature ate it. I didn't lose it, that's for sure. I'm careful with my vehicles!"

You can practically hear Jensen’s eyeroll as she continues, "I'm sure you are, but you have to admit, there have been a lot of 'accidents' involving our very expensive vehicles."

"You want to follow me on a few runs tomorrow? See what it's like? Conditions are way harsher than anything I ever imagined. You can't really understand it from inside your office!"

Monk winces, and you know there's a matching pained expression on your face. Talking back to Jensen is a terrible idea, but Mundy's sealed his fate, and now all that's left is to wait for the other shoe to drop.

"That won't be necessary," Jensen says with syrupy calm. "Thank you for your time. I'll write it up as an accident."

"Thank you, ma'am," Mundy's voice is shaky. Jensen doesn't respond, so the vehicle technician’s deliberately loud footsteps approach the door, prompting you and the precursor researcher you're spying with to run like your asses are on fire back to your stations.

"I think it'd be best if Researcher Tam takes over your duties with the leviathan tomorrow," Jensen says, loudly enough for you to hear, even through the door.

Now it's your turn to wince. Mundy gives you a small smile as he walks past, and then Jensen's in your line of sight, hands on her hips.

"I believe I told you to go somewhere."

"Yes, ma'am," you drop everything to put your thermal suit on, and pour a final cup of sweet, sweet dirty bean water in your thermos. There's no cappuccino machine allowed in the cave, lest it somehow thaw out the entire frozen leviathan Mundy, and now you, are studying. Or maybe it was just Schmidt being anal about his robots, you wouldn't put it past the guy whose lips are basically permanently attached to Jensen's ass.

On the bright side, they're also attached to a guy who knows what he's doing, and is thorough in explaining what Mundy does when he's here. Still, it's barely five minutes in when the silence gets to you.

"I love and hate exploring these tunnels," you start to babble, not expecting Schmidt to respond. "Yeah, they're marvels to the power of the ice worms. I mean, the amount of ice they are able to cut through in seconds, it would take us at least a couple days. Their tunneling mechanism is ruthlessly efficient. Alterra could only dream of having this sort of mining capability, and yeah, the ice worms uncover mineral rich pockets as they tunnel. But going beneath the surface is so risky, I mean, we've lost so many already, and I don't understand why we have to stay in this particular area of the glacier. I can't wait to get off this hellhole, or ice hole? Whatever."

You can hardly believe it, but you hear a clear snort coming from Schmidt’s workstation. You fill your flasks with a wide smile on your face, which doesn’t fade even when you make your way back across the tunnel to see his with its usual pinched, sour expression.

"Hey, do you want some coffee?" you wave the thermos at him. "It might help you get the taste of Alterra boot leather out of your mouth," you say in a singsong voice.

"How much sugar and cream is in that?" Schmidt wrinkles his nose. "No thank you."

You decide to let that roll off your back and chuckle a little. "I guess my proclivities toward having coffee with my sugar is well known, huh? Just like how I should know better than to invite you to game night with me and the other researchers, again?"

Is snow blindness affecting your vision, or did Schmidt just smile?

"You should know better," he says in a soft voice, and then he takes out another set of small, sterile flasks, and hands them to you. "Get some samples from the skull, too, use the elevator."

"Thanks!" you grab the flasks, only to drop them the second you put your hand on the elevator lift button, because that's a fucking rotten peeper hanging off the edge.

Schmidt snaps his gloves off and cleans it up, which is nice of him, even if the things he says while he does it aren’t very nice. "Mundy," he practically spits, "always leaving food around. At least the nutrient blocks and the filtered water don't spoil."

"Well, the man likes to munch on things," you try to lighten the mood. "Are you telling me you don’t leave snacks around your workstation?" Schmidt opens his mouth, but you interrupt. "Don't tell me, you have a timer telling you when to go to the fabricator to make food and eat?"

He closes his mouth and turns a little red.

Holy shit, you were right? That's the saddest thing you've ever heard. "Okay, you know what, you are definitely playing Alien Intruders with us tonight, because I'm going to cook. Real food, too, none of that fabricated stuff."

"Oh, I am?" Schmidt raises an eyebrow.

"Yep! And I'm going to make my favorite dish, just for you, you'll love it! Roasted Chinese potato with shredded marblemelon and salt."

That was definitely a snort, maybe even a laugh, and it carries you through the rest of the day.

[ikesenhell]

Je Te Souviens

Elysium, Part Five. You can find all other IkeSen/IkeVamp works of mine in my Masterlist. NOTES: WELL WELL WELL IT HAS BEEN TOO LONG. Yes, I’m still working on this. Yes, it’s been a minute. Yes, I’m helaciously busy. Yes, I hopefully will get the rest of this out in a relatively short amount of time. I’m back-ish babyeee

---

The idea of meeting a priest as a bandit’s contact was, put mildly, somewhat odd. Did it border on heresy? Jean wasn’t quite sure. It didn't feel right. If the clergy’s first responsibility was to God, what was a priest doing tangled in this web?

Still--August gave a very clear direction. If they wanted answers, they met the priest. 

“I don’t like this,” he muttered. 

Napoleon’s eyes stayed fixed at some unknowable point in the distance, but the corner of his mouth ticked slightly upwards. “No?”

“No.” Jean squeezed the pommel of his sword. It was still there. Overhead, the sky bled purple and gold, grey swirling clouds far off yet. Their boots clicked in tandem on the cobblestone streets. Why were the streets so ghostly still? It was like Penrith only flourished in its twisted corners. People shrank along the walls, pulled up hoods and skittered into waiting doors.   

“We’re a bit obvious, don’t you think?” Isaac narrowed his blush-pink eyes at them, scurrying to keep up. “You two, all kitted out, me alongside you, and headed to the central plaza--”

Jean silently agreed. Between Napoleon’s typical dramatic flair (a black velvet capelet with a black and gold uniform coat? Really?) and his own distinct features, they attracted attention. It would be easy for the Guild to track them. But their fearless leader just smiled as he always did, fine lines of fatigue hovering around his eyes (did he ever sleep enough outside of his own bed?), and elbowed Jean in the ribs. “We’re going to church.”

Jean rubbed his side. “What?”

“Church. It’s been a moment since we’ve all been, and you certainly needed to drop in for a quick prayer…”

He contemplated the lie (which was a plausible scenario, but still a lie, and still a sin). It worked for cover. And as much as he didn't want to be here, sticking out like a sore thumb in the nigh-deserted streets, it brought them that much closer to whatever answers August promised. 

Speaking of August! Unbidden, those bright eyes flashed in his mind’s eye. An arch of severe brow, the twist of lip, the toss of copper curls, the curve of a rolling shoulder--Jean swallowed. Why did the scent of the street rise up and not their lavender soap? God help him. What did those eyes hold that dragged him in? Why did he follow so willingly? Some said that eyes were the window to the soul. That couldn’t be true. There was no cathedral stained glass that compared to August.

What was wrong with him? 

Isaac flapped a hand in front of his face, and Jean started. 

“Earth to Jean.” The advisor scowled. “Why are we stopping? Is it Them?”

Oh. Jean collected himself enough to realize the Them in question was not, in fact, August. “No. No, They’re not bothering me any more than usual. I was… in thought.”

“Well, come on. We’re close.”

The central plaza was crowded. Civilians headed home, tired from work, arms laden with goods, children in tow. Napoleon visibly softened as a couple of tiny girls skipped by, skirts in hand and giggling (and what could he even say? Did he show his friend a kind word? Was it even the time for that, time to acknowledge what Napoleon had given up in exchange for--)

On a nearby bench, flipping a coin, sat a priest. He was a wizened old man with bushy brows and stooped shoulders. The trio exchanged glances. It felt almost too perfect. But--never the man to shy away from trouble--Napoleon swept his capelet behind him and settled in beside the elderly priest. 

“Evening.” 

The man glanced at them and smiled. "Good evening, my children. What brings you here?" 

Napoleon visibly paused. What did they say? August hadn't given them any clear directions. None of them were good at subtlety. Doing his best, Jean cleared his throat. 

"A… friend recommended we meet you. And I could use some prayer, Father, if you would allow me."

The man fixed the three of them with a wry, gap-tooth smile, dusting his knees and rising. "I'd heard some worshippers might visit late today. Very well. Follow me."

---

It was a strangely humble building. That was all good and well, but next to the Guild’s extravagance… well, Jean knew where priorities were. It wasn’t that he expected the city to set religion front and center--God knew Napoleon didn't feel that necessary for Elysium--it was more the unsettling realization that the Guild saw it more important to purchase silk chair covers and gilded spoons than front a single gold coin to anyone else. 

Maybe that was what August wanted them to see. Maybe they’d envisioned how the creaking wood floors would sound under well maintained leather boots. Maybe they’d known that, against Napoleon’s cape, the rough-hewn benches and tattered hymnals told a different tale. This was Penrith. Twilight glow filtered through faraway paper slits serving as windows. Instead of the raucous colors and vivid golds from Elysium’s church, a humble, lovingly-carved wooden altar reached skyward. 

God help him. Jean hesitated on the threshold, deja vu circling like storm clouds. Wasn’t his childhood church just like this one? Marae in the height of autumn, all the colors of fire that later tried to eat him alive, laughter in the beams and a dozen dirt-poor families who still found a thousand reasons to smile. He’d taken communion in a place like this. He’d tried (horribly, terribly) to flirt with Annaliese from the farm over behind a hymnal in a place like this. 

He’d almost died in a place like this. 

Napoleon’s hand wrapped around his. 

“Friend,” he said, his green eyes understanding. “You’re missing the conversation.”

Sometimes breathing proved difficult. Now was one of those times. Jean gulped in the timber-rich air, forcing his lungs to remember that they weren’t full of smoke, that he couldn’t (but could still, always could) taste ash on his tongue and a sinner’s agony in his stomach. “My apologies.”

“That’s alright. Our new friend was just showing us around the chapel. Do you need to step outside?”

“No, no. I’ll be fine.”

Oh, Napoleon. His mouth quirked in that disarming smile, the weight of his confidence bolstering Jean’s resolve. Thank God for Napoleon. 

Fortunately, they hadn’t missed much. The priest gave Isaac a cursory tour in their absence--the pulpit, the prized books, the church office--and then excused himself with a wink and a nudge to find some tome or another he’d ‘misplaced’. The invitation wasn’t lost on them. As soon as the doors to the priest’s chambers shut, Isaac swung open the church office. There wasn’t much. He spied a safe, a large desk, a number of record books, some miscellaneous odds and ends...

“Let’s go.”

Jean wavered in the door. “I don’t know if--”

“--this’ll go faster if you help me look--”

“--Isaac, I can’t read--”

“--I’ve been teaching you! You can at least manage some things--!”

Napoleon choked back a laugh and shunted himself into the tiny space. “At least stand in the doorway. We’ll look.”

Only the sound of flipping pages rustled in the eaves. Jean was a practiced hand at forced calm by now. It felt unlikely--so, so unlikely--that anything could appear in the ledgers of a neglected church. What secrets could the Guild and Penrith hide here? 

“Nothing,” Napoleon murmured. “Isaac?”

“Mmm. I’m checking another book.”

Another book creaked open. 

But then again, all sorts of places held secrets, didn't they? Marceche hadn’t descended on Marae for no reason. They hadn’t tracked him down through sheer dumb luck. You just had to know where to look. Usually, though, that was through people. 

Oh.

Jean spun on his heel. “Is there a guest book? A parishioner’s book?”

Both Napoleon and Isaac stared. Impatiently, Jean pushed into the office. “Sometimes local churches keep records on who attends.”

“What do you think that’ll show?” Isaac demanded. 

He didn't know. It was just the nagging sensation in the back of his mind, the faintest inkling that it was with people, not words, that their business lay. Jean pawed his way over the books until he pieced together enough letters on one to make a guess. “This one. Check this one.”

Napoleon flipped it open. Sure enough, neat columns marched down the page. Jean couldn’t read upside down to save his life, but he knew names when he saw them. 

“I’m still not following.” Isaac ran the thick pages between his fingers, turning each one. 

Look closer look closer look closer

The voices clawed around him. For once, Jean didn't fight them. He was part of that hivemind by nature; now, no doubt, They only reflected his own thoughts back at him. “August wasn’t looking to loot our caravan. If not money, or goods, what were they looking for? What would someone hide in a caravan?”

Silence. Isaac bent his face to the pages once more, rolling his fingers along the names until--at last--he stopped. “Some of them are marked with stars.”

“People.” Napoleon straightened. “Someone is taking people from Penrith.”

[hermannsthumb]

you know how hermann finding The Tape is like, a popular fic prompt? imagine newt listening to the tape, after the breach is closed only to find out it kept recording after he passed out? imagine newt listening to hermanns frantically confessing his love to him :^)

god ive seen the opposite (hermannn finding the tape with love confession from newt on it) but THIS.....IS A GREAT IDEA

---------------------------

“I’m not dying, Newton,” Hermann says. “Don’t be so melodramatic. It’s standard procedure, is all.” He shifts a little under his stiff medical-issued blanket, and blinks at Newt hazily; the pain meds they gave him have made him crazy out of it. A bit loopy. Unbalanced. Newt had to help him into his pajamas today, and that was enough blushing mortification for a life time, thank you. “I’ll be out--oh--tomorrow, I reckon.”

“Standard procedure, my ass,” Newt scoffs. “If that was true, I’d be in here with you.”

Hermann shuts his mouth and, wisely, doesn’t push the point. Probably because he knows Newt’s right. They both drifted with the kaiju brain, after all--shit, Newt drifted with one twice, practically fried his brain to smithereens the first time. Geiszler served over-hard. If anyone should be doomed to an overnight medical stay, it’s him. Hell--a week-long medical stay. Instead he’s being sent away with nothing more than an MRI, a pat on the head, and instructions to never fucking do that again, and meanwhile Hermann is being imprisoned for a whole twenty-four hours. Fucking ridiculous. Newt’s half-considering raising a fuss and insisting on being admitted to the bed beside Hermann’s just to keep him company.

“It’s nausea,” Hermann says. “Merely nausea. And--ah--” He lifts one hand, slowly, like he forgot he had one, and raps his knuckles against his temple. “Bit of a nasty headache.”

Hermann has always had a predilection to migraines, the brutal kind that leave him groaning in the dark for hours on end while Newt hangs, tentatively, out of sight, and they’re usually set off when he’s particularly stressed or overwhelmed by something. Usually work-related. Newt thinks hooking your mind up to an alien hivemind counts as a pretty intense stressor. “They merely want to keep me under observation to ensure it’s nothing more serious.”

Newt bites his lip; he shrugs. He still doesn’t like the sound of it, but he’d rather know one-hundred-percent Hermann’s okay. “I guess.”

Hermann gives him a rare smile. It crinkles the corner of his eyes and makes Newt’s heart race just a bit faster. “Go on, now, make yourself useful. Tidy the bloody lab. Oh--get started on our paperwork, why don’t you? Don’t sit around moping for my sake.” He pats Newt’s hand. “It’s terribly unbecoming for a rock star.”

The nurse at the front desk, when Newt badgers him, echoes Hermann’s sentiments exactly: no, Dr. Gottlieb isn’t dying, Dr. Geiszler, don’t be silly, both of your scans came back sparkling, overnight observation is just to ensure the headache and nausea aren’t something more serious (which we’re almost completely sure it isn’t), you can come pick him back up tomorrow morning at seven. Okay?

“Okay,” Newt sighs.

He casts a forlorn glance back at Hermann. “I’ll come back with dinner,” he says, weakly. 

The nurse coughs. “Actually, Dr. Geiszler, I’m afraid there’s no outside food allowed.”

“Right,” Newt says. “Bye, Hermann.”

“Paperwork,” Hermann calls to him.

No one’s been in the lab since before the whole Breach-bombing extravaganza, a whole forty-eight hours, and Newt can’t help but be a bit unsettled by it later that evening when he finally rolls up his sleeves and trudges down dutifully to get a crack on Hermann’s requests. It’s too quiet--too stagnant--like some sort of weird memorial to a lifestyle that’s now as obsolete as the kaiju. There’s a half-finished mug of coffee on Hermann’s desk (the milk gone curdled); Newt’s filthy work tools still in the industrial sink; a bit of kaiju intestine hanging off his work bench, decaying at an alarming rate; Hermann’s last equation, unfinished, on the chalkboard--what he was calculating Newt guesses he’ll never know.

“It smells like shit in here,” Newt declares to no one.

The paperwork about the, uh, legality of their drift Hermann was so eager for him to complete is nowhere to be found--probably because the entire fucking ‘dome is on an unofficial ‘we didn’t die!’ vacation, except for him, and no one has the time to deliver paperwork to two weirdo scientists in the basement--so Newt decides to start cleaning instead.

That’s maybe misleading. Newt does decide to clean, but he never actually follows through on that decision, because he immediately gets distracted by all the fun and interesting stuff in Hermann’s desk. The dude keeps, like, a million Rubik’s cubes on hand. All solved. A miniature chess set Newt thinks they played together once on a slow day. An entire drawer-full of those weird British digestives he likes so much that he almost definitely purchased on the black market. There’s even a photograph of Newt in there--the two of them, together, probably at some Shatterdome party, Newt holding a beer and smiling cheekily at a blushing, disgruntled Hermann.

It’s...kinda cute, actually. Newt props the frame up on Hermann’s desk over a somber Gottlieb family photograph. It deserves to be displayed.

Once he’s exhausted Hermann’s desk, he moves to his side of the lab and actually starts cleaning. He tosses out the decaying entrails--suddenly wishing, a bit sadly, that he’d taken better care of his kaiju specimens, because they just got even rarer--and rinses down Hermann’s grody coffee mug as he debates out what to do with the leftover pile of junk from his drift machine. He also wishes he’d planned ahead and made a back-up: the UN seized Newt’s machine from the Bone Slums milliseconds after Mako and Becket’s escape pods popped out of the ocean, and he has a feeling he won’t ever be seeing it again. Oh well. It had a fucking awesome run.

He’s just finishing washing out Hermann’s mug and setting it on the drying rack when he pauses; his tape recorder is on the kitchenette counter.

Newt recalls his almost-parting message to Hermann with something like guilt. At the time, he’d meant it... Well, he’s not sure how he meant it. As a joke? A weird, superstitious way of ensuring his drift would be successful, because he couldn’t possibly die with last words that bad? He’s not sure he would’ve said it if he knew what Hermann would be doing for him in a few short hours. Frankly, he’s not sure he would’ve said it if he thought about it for more than five minutes.

He wonders if Hermann listened to it.

A bit of the plastic is cracked. Newt thinks he must’ve knocked it to the floor when he started, uh, spasming, and Hermann probably picked it up before he got Newt a glass of water, which could be how it migrated here. He could’ve listened to it then. He could’ve listened to it when Newt headed out to meet Chau, and Hermann sent him off with the awkwardest little hug of all time and a quiet, terse little “Don’t get yourself killed.” He could’ve listened to it before he hopped on a helicopter to the Bone Slums to risk his life for Newt. He could’ve snuck back into the lab without Newt knowing and listened to it any time yesterday, in fact.

Newt rewinds a little and presses play. Despite the crack, it still works.

“Unscientific aside,” he hears himself say, “Hermann...”

He listens to the rest of his message in morbid fascination. Three, two, one--

The loud clatter of the recorder hitting the floor, then the even louder one of Newt hitting the floor. A prolonged period of loud, pained gasps. Before Newt can switch it off, suddenly, to his surprise, there’s Hermann’s voice, out-of-his-mind, frantic--saying his name--what have you done?--low, terrified murmurs of no, no, no--

The sound of the helmet being ripped from Newt’s head and thrown, violently, to the floor. “Don’t,” Hermann stammers, “Newton--you stupid, stupid man--you can’t leave, I--” Fast, panicked breathing. “I love you, you stupid--”

The tape runs out, and cuts Hermann off mid-sentence.

Newt sets the recorder down with shaking hands.

“Oh,” he says.

He knows, in the vaguest sense, that Hermann harbors a regard for him that matches Newt’s regard for Hermann to some degree--he got enough of that in the drift, in Hermann’s too-long too-shy lingering glances across the lab, his too-long too-shy lingering touches, the way he never smiles for anyone but Newt--but hearing it spoken so blatantly out in the open like that makes Newt’s heart race and his stomach feel a little funny, like it’s being twisted up in knots. 

Hermann loves him. Like, loves him, loves him. 

It’s late, which means there’s only one nurse on duty in medical this time, and Newt manages to use his newfound rock star status to charm his way pass without a problem.

(“Pleeease,” he whined. “Please, please, please--”

“Fine,” the nurse snapped. “But if you annoy Dr. Gottlieb, you’re out of here.”)

He finds Hermann where he left him, conked out in one of the stiff beds with his blankets and hair in disarray. There’s a little bit of drool on his chin. Newt wipes it away with the sleeve of his sweatshirt, folds his glasses up on the nightstand, then--after glancing around to ensure the nurse isn’t looking, though it’s dark enough in here he doesn’t think anyone would be able to see him anyway--burrows underneath the bedcovers beside Hermann. It’s a tight squeeze, but they’ll fit.

Hermann stirs. "Newton?”

“Yeah,” Newt whispers. “It’s me.”

Hermann sniffs, then wraps an arm around Newt’s waist. “Jolly good,” he mumbles, sleepily. Newt smiles against his chest. Hermann loves him--how funny. “Do stay.”

“Of course,” Newt says. “You can go back to sleep, if you want.”

“Mm. Yes,” Hermann agrees.

Hermann’s breathing steadily evens out. Newt laces the fingers of his left hand with Hermann’s right, and--still smiling--drifts off to sleep, too.

[glassrising]

FINALLY GOT MY HANDS ON A SHARDFLANK SO ZOE IS FINISHED! Some words on his character / arc irt my lore follows :3c

He’s an older adult who has been a sentry for some times. Very sturdy and known for his reflexive thinking when it comes to defending.

He never particularly enjoyed his job, in fact most times he actually dislikes it. On good days, he does nothing but blankly patrol the prison he’s assigned to.

On bad days, it’s the same, only he can’t stop himself from pondering things he shouldn’t (What would happen if he left? Is his job really that important? Does he have a choice?).

And on the worst days, he has to force someone back into their cage. Not their average shade taken creatures, too overcome by corruption to even be properly sentient, taken into the shade’s hivemind fully. No, not them. He means the ones who aren’t fully gone, the ones who fight and cry and sometimes beg to be let go.

Its the instances like this that make him wonder if there’s other ways to go about his life. He wants, something, but happiness is a foreign concept to him after just existing for so long.

 Eventually, he does leave. It’s not even a big event. He simply starts walking from his position patrolling the lower outside edge of the prison. No one stops him, he doesn’t even run into anyone, and he doesn’t turn around.

Queue my typical montage of a strange dragon wandering the world and trying to learn who they really are. Zoe wasn’t quite sure what to expect when he left, but he’s amazed at how much he has to think. 

In the fortress, it was common place (and even encouraged) for him to go about his job for days or weeks on end without any actual thought. Wake up, patrol, fight, eat, repeat. 

But out here, he has to think at every second. He knows that gaoler’s aren’t exactly you're average dragon, and for a while every interaction with the modern breeds throws him. They are so different, so EMOTIONAL, and he can never predict how they will react to him.

He has a knack for stumbling upon dragons in trouble, and the sentry in him never hesitates to step in and combat the threat. He doesn’t even always know what he’s fighting, it’s just an instinctual thing. 

The first time he runs into a shade touched creature in the wild he’s shocked, even if he knew it would happen at one point or another. He’s dispatched stronger entities countless times before, but before he can attack them another dragon runs up to them without fear. He watches tensely from afar as the two chat and interact normally, and then leave his sight together.

...Strange. He knew, of course, that the level of shade corruption in a dragon could vary, and that that had a big affect on the corrupted dragon. But, this is certainly the first time he’s seen any shade touched creature treated with anything but hostility and caution.

Fast forward some more, and he’s found himself at the edge of the ghostlight ruins. Perhaps it was the shade energy hovering throughout the territory that subconsciously drew him in, but he finds himself within the Shard Fortress.

He plans to pass through, he has yet to stay in any clan, with any other dragons. Except, there’s something strange that manages to surprise him yet again. There’s a young gaoler, a child still. He’s accompanied by a regal imperial, who radiates a powerful magic and shade aura all at once to Zoe.

Before he can react on his own, the child notices him from across the street, and is immediately running towards Zoe with wide eyes. The imperial follows, and the way she looks at him tells Zoe that she knows what they are.

There’s lot of conversation had here. Alice is surprised to see another gaoler, (hell, she’d been surprised at Mirror to begin with). Zoe learns of the clan’s troubles, who Mirror is. The young gaoler can’t speak, but his eyes are sharp and Alice easily translates the fast gestures of the hatchlings paws for Zoe.

Zoe stays for three days, kept secret from the rest of the clan as the council meets him. Mirror asks him to train him, in the ways of the gaoler. And Zoe is a bit repulsed at the idea. Mirror seems so kind, this gaoler child who wants to BEFRIEND and HELP those touched by the shade. He’d no doubt be a sore outcast amongst his own kind, but yet he’s surrounded by love in this strange fortress.

But, it must be hard, being raised and never having known what you were until now. So Zoe agrees. He’ll stay and help teach Mirror about who he is, and he’ll also work with Alice (and the council in general) on researching the shade by telling them everything he knows about it and gaolers.

Also even though he’s agreed, he won’t deny that being around Alice makes his claws itch. He’s certainly never been so close to a shade touched dragon without it being a skirmish. And it seems he’s in for a bigger surprise when he meets Mirror’s caretakers.

There’s a golden skydancer with piercing light eyes. And then an imperial with a blindfold and dark fur. He’d already met Hiraeth, she was on the council, and he knew she was a former shade hunter. That, he could understand at least. 

But he hadn’t expected the shade energy clinging to the imperial to be so strong and overpowering. It made Zoe a little dizzy, trying to hold back the urge to react as he would have back at the prison, to attack and defend. 

Except, there was nothing to defend from, and the imperial offering him a lazy grin and introduced himself as “Sinic” with no fear of Zoe. Zoe tries to figure out if that irritates him or not, ignores Hiraeth’s knowing look as he shuffles around. 

She knows Zoe’s feeling well. After all, Sinic had been her target originally, and now they lived together and raised a child. If anyone understands having to get out of the mindset that all shade touched dragons were an enemy, it’s her.

Hiraeth offers to let Zoe stay with them, but Zoe declines. The idea of sleeping around them is a little overwhelming. Instead, he agrees to take a room in the central castle. It’ll help to be near the council all the time anyways.

Anyways that’s where my organized words stop b/c it’s caught up to current timeline but a lot of the time he ends up leaving the castle and patrolling around the outer rings.

Sometimes with Mirror, sometimes alone. It’s somewhat of a coping mechanism, he’s so used to patrolling, it just feels right to be walking. Only now, he tries not to hold himself back from thinking, using the opportunity to freely ponder his life. The irony of how he left because he hated dealing with his job, only to end up in this new life where the shade still writhed all around him. Could he still be happy? Would this be different?

He runs into Sinic one night, to his surprise. Sinic’s out wandering as well, and admits it’s because he has nightmares and often can’t sleep (he doesn’t mention that it’s because he struggles not to enter the dreams of others and release the shade fighting against him for control to corrupt and lash out). 

They haven’t really interacted much, but Zoe thinks of the worst days back at the prison. Of shade touched dragons crying and fighting, their lives worth nothing to the gaolers but still valuable. He keeps Sinic company, and the two talk...a lot. Zoe isn’t used to this, but he thinks he might like it.

It starts a sort of routine, where the two run into each other at night and just walk together and talk about anything and everything. 

There’s a lot Zoe still has to learn about this new life, but he’s decided that happiness is a possibility for someone like him.

[toonstarterz]

BECAUSE I’M NOT POPULAR, I’LL READ WATAMOTE: CHAPTER #127

What better way to break out the new year than with a new chapter of Watamote? Nothing, I say! As our intrepid group of misfit girls journey across the wonders of Mouseyland, there is much to behold for us fans as a certain delinquent has the time of her life, a cute introvert speaks up, and our favorite mojyo takes the next big step in forging a beautiful friendship. Come one, come all to...

Chapter 127: Because I’m Not Popular, I’ll Get Into It

(Quickly does a Google search to found out what this is parodying.)

“The Country Bear Jamboree...alrighty then.” 

Ah, but Yoshida, don’t you understand that being in a cramped space with dozens of other, sweaty people is part of the Disneyland experience? Then again, considering that Yoshida is the type who doesn’t seem to be fond of large gatherings, it makes sense that this situation is preferable to her.  

Correct me if I’m wrong, but my twenty seconds of research told me that the Country Bear Jamboree is extremely popular at Disneyland, so it seems kind of odd that these three are the only ones there. Perhaps it’s still early in the day, meaning less traffic, but still. 

Also, that feeling when you’re really excited about a particular attraction, only to realize you’re the only one who showed up hits way too close to home...

In the words of Wendy Corduroy, “I don’t know if that’s a duck or a panda, but I want one!” 

Nico Tanigawa are really good at character-based body language. I noticed that Heroin-chan has a tendency to arch her back and place her arms out in front of her when sitting. It really gives off a vibe of someone who’s super chill.

Also, she’s a good friend to Yoshida. 

I was worried Eyeless-chan would remain an enigma since we didn’t see her at the class reveals in Chapter 122, but thankfully, I was wrong.

From what I’m getting at, it may be that Eyeless-chan is the true delinquent among delinquents. Whereas Yoshida is violent, but pure-of-heart, and Heroin-chan is blunt, but easygoing, Eyeless-chan has been all frowns this whole chapter, making no effort to hide her displeasure. It also plays to her lack of eyes, which gives her that aura of danger about her personality.

I do agree that Yoshida was too quick to retaliate, but this degree of violence is already an established part of her character (and her resulting loner status), so there’s not much to say otherwise. Hopefully, she gets better.

I guess Heroin-chan is sort of the “Yuri Tamura” of this group. 

But here’s something to think about: if these sorts of fights happen often in Yoshida’s band of delinquents, then that helps answer the question as to why Yoshida tolerates Tomoko so much, considering all that the latter has done to her. It may mean that Yoshida has a high tolerance level for people’s bullshit, and that it would take an astonishing amount of assholery for Yoshida to permanently cut someone off. 

In a way, Tomoko is really lucky it was Yoshida who she got to know, and not someone else.   

Can we safely assume that the Disneyland arc is going to end with a parade? That’d be a sight to see. 

Also, Mako is such a Mom Friend and I love it. 

Time for another segment of, “Toonyoungster Looks Too Deep into a Throwaway Line!”

Yoshida’s reasoning for going on this ride is slightly different than when she wanted to go on the Country Panda Band. Before, she was a little more stubborn, not really caring whether her delinquent buddies were interested or not. With this group, she at least gives a more reasonable excuse for going on this particular attraction. One of those blink-and-you’ll-miss-it moments of character development.

Meega Nala Kweesta!

Side note: I love how the mangaka is designing these mascot characters as creepy, but potentially cute. Kind of like Tomoko.

Mandatory picture of Yoshida being cute asf. 

Some people have questioned whether or not Nemo was recognized from her last visit, but honestly, I think it’s just a coincidence. Asking an audience member a question like this seem like a routine for these audience trolling participation shows. 

Not gonna lie, I was secretly hoping Nemo would get embarrassed after her borderline-bullying last chapter.  

I haven’t a clue as to what goes down in Osaka, but I do know quite a bit about these kind of “bully the audience” events, and it’s just as aggravating for the quiet ones as you’d expect.

The problem about these events is that even though they’re live and candid, it’s still a performance. Meaning that if you’re called out, it’s expected that you play along with whatever the host is throwing at you. And worse yet, you’re essentially pressured to match the enthusiasm of said host. If you don’t follow along, you’re considered by the audience to be a “killjoy” and “boring’. And as any introvert will tell you, being mistaken for boring is one of their biggest fears. 

I feel you, Yuri. I feel you. 

Going back to the whole body language thing, I’ve noticed that in Yuri’s case, what she doesn’t show on her face is manifested in the rest of her body. She will bring her arms inward as a protective shield when in a highly extroverted environment. Hang in there, girl.

So is Kowarith looking for a girlfriend something that actually goes on in the real Stitch Encounter? Again, creepy but cute.

About freakin’ time we got her name.

Emiri, huh? It’s an incredibly fitting name when you think about it. Ucchi’s existence so far is based around her being two-faced, saying one thing while feeling something else entirely, Not only does it play up to Ucchi’s character by sounding similar to Emoji, it also juxtaposes very nicely by being a lovely name for a girl with a less-than-lovely personality. 

It seems to me that the most recent reveal of first names have suggested that the respective characters will start playing bigger roles in this manga, and based on what comes up next, something big is definitely going to happen with Emiri in the future.

OH.

SHHHHHHHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIITTTTTTTT!!!!!

Ahem, now that I got that off my chest, here’s what I have to offer. Now, “love” is strong word, and I was skeptical as to whether or not this was contextually accurate. After looking into it, I can safely say that...it’s acceptable. The important thing to note is that Ucchi is most certainly speaking in terms of having a crush on someone. Given the question asked of her, that definitely comes across. And because we have not had any evidence that Ucchi holds romantic feelings for anybody else, we can say for sure that she’s talking about Tomoko.

So, yes.

Emiri Ucchi has a crush on Tomoko Kuroki.

...

...

...

FULL STEAM AHEAD!

Good move, Tomoko. The staff running this attraction obviously wants to put on a show, so assuming they’re not going to pick out somebody sleeping and risk a boring response, this is a classic introvert escape technique.   

Yuri’s growing admiration of Tomoko’s boldness continues to be very endearing. When you become friends with someone who’s a kindred spirit in terms of their personality type, you tend to gain more confidence to do things you normally wouldn’t in order to achieve solidarity with them. Ironically, it’s another form of the “hivemind” Nemo alluded to last chapter. But I don’t think it’s means Yuri weak-minded or anything. Everyone wants to feel that sense of belonging. It’s just that grouping together by rejecting social norms has a lot more stigma to it. But it’s a valid feeling in any case, and it’s what makes our group of rejects so appealing to us readers.  

I’m sure a lot of people were anxious that Yoshida would get physical with Tomoko and Yuri, consider what she did to her crew earlier.

But she didn’t, and I think it’s a small indication that Yoshida is a little more conscientious of actions. Because her last fight led to her being estranged from her punk buddies, Yoshida doesn’t want the same thing to happen with this group, even if their lack of effort irritates her. Good for you, Yoshida. You’re actually learning from your mistakes. 

Unfortunately, the one thing that Tomoko didn’t consider is that there’s a certain degree of schadenfreude during these attractions. Meaning, they’re more likely to go after you if you don’t join in on the “fun”.

Disneyland: The Happiest Hell on Earth. 

The face of absolute betrayal. 

This brings up another interesting point regarding the similarities and differences between Tomoko and Yuri. On the outside, they are very much equal in that they’re introverts who can’t handle excessive social interaction. But introvertism is a spectrum, and that’s where Tomoko and Yuri begin to diverge. Tomoko seeks out the company of others, and can be outgoing when in a state of confidence. Yuri on the only hand, has a much smaller capacity for interaction, and thus has less motivation to get out of her comfort zone.

Whereas Tomoko can fluctuate between two extremes, Yuri is stuck in the zone of moderate-to-severe introvertism.  

As bold as Tomoko has become, she still keeps a distance between herself and her friends when it comes to personal space, minus accidental gropings. So to see her be intentionally physical with Yuri is quite shocking. Thus far, she’s only been that way with Yuu, so this is actually a pretty big step for Tomoko. 

Tomoko doesn’t get a lot of opportunities where she can help others by being the most knowledgeable one in the room, and this is hilariously appropriate. To use her words, only someone who’s survived countless battles with shame knows how to maneuver around socially dangerous situations.

Oh boy, a certain Emoji Girl is gonna lose her mind.

I can’t begin to tell you how uplighting it feels to see Tomoko make such a concerted effort for Yuri. As I’ve mentioned before, Tomoko has been largely passive about her relationship with the girl, and usually only goes out of her way by a sense of social obligation. But underneath Tomoko’s aggression here, there’s an underlying empathy in her words, assuring us that she’s helping Yuri not because she has to, but because she wants to. A true gal pal. 

Some of Watamote’s best humor comes from not what it shows, but from what we know is happening despite not seeing it. 

Ucchi is on cloud fuckin’ nine. 

The cuteness ratings are off the charts this chapter.

Even if Mako’s reaction is based on an assumption of Yuri that isn’t exactly true, it still puts in perspective the extent of their friendship. There’s no denying that Yuri and Mako are best friends, but the more we see Yuri show sides of herself that Mako’s never seen, it makes you wonder how their friendship has been so stable for all these years. My guess is that Mako’s personality puts her right at the center of Yuri’s comfort zone, which means there really was no need on Yuri’s part to show her less evident, but still existing emotional side. But now that Mako is seeing the lesser known parts of Yuri along with her core introverted personality, I think it will fundamentally make their best-friendship stronger in the long run.  

A part of me was thinking that it was getting too convenient that Tomoko’s group was the one that kept getting called out, despite having a lot of other people there. But even so, I can accept a little plot convenience in this manga because these events aren’t the major contributing factors for our characters’ development. They just open up opportunities for people like Tomoko to grow in the face of new obstacles, and having a tangible representation of her new friendship is an emotional payoff long in the making. 

While Yuri is the most consistently cute, Yoshida knocks it out of the park sometimes.

The Tomoko Face of Utter Befuddlement.  

In a way, it’s pretty admirable that Yuri doesn’t fake any part of her personality. Many people who don’t like singing would likely downplay it with a response like, “Sometimes”, or “When I’m with my friends”. But Yuri isn’t capable of falsifying herself, even if it means taking the high road in society. This is a double-edged sword, though, because while it makes your few relationships much more meaningful, it makes it harder for Yuri to recognize her own faults and improve upon them. To what extent one must break out of their shell seems to be a recurring theme in this manga.   

Something tells me that this is a little jab towards the increasing influx of Yuri fanboys. If Yuri were to turn out to be aromantic/asexual, that’d be a pretty funny stab in the back.  

Yuri can be very emotionally-driven, and that often leads to unnerving moments like this. It’s difficult for Yuri to recognize the kindness of others when she’s so focused on the results, particularly when it leads to her own suffering. It makes the instigator of that kindness look like a nuisance, and it’s the kind of defeatist mindset I hope Yuri learns to overcome.  

Aw, their first genuine fight. 

Though I’m more inclined to agree with Tomoko, neither side is completely in the wrong, and that’s what makes arguments like this important. I sometimes see friendships (usually girls in slice-of-life comedies) in manga/anime where everyone is so close to each other with no serious conflict. Sure, they may rag on each other’s eccentricities, but they largely ignore the real flaws in their friends, or worst yet, the flaws are nonexistent altogether. Friendships like these tend to come off as shallow because it doesn’t highlight what exactly endears the friends to each other besides being “nice”. Tomoko’s group constantly hits bumps in the road, and it’s because they can work around those bumps that makes their friendship so earnest. 

And yes, I know the translation is awkward with the whole “you” business.  

But despite those rocky bumps, it’s moments like this that make it all worthwhile. 

From what I can ascertain from the original text, Yoshida is referring to Tomoko and Yuri in the same indirect way that Tomoko addresses Yuri, but still implying closeness. I actually feel a bit bad for Yoshida, since she’s presuming that Tomoko and Yuri were as enthusiastic as she was when they obviously weren’t, but that’s fine. I think it’s more important that Yoshida now has two people with whom she can safely express her unbridled excitement. The Loner Trio really is becoming the heart of this manga.

I was wondering if Tomoko would surprise Yuri by using the girl’s first name unexpectedly. But not surprisingly, Tomoko still needs to be prompted before she can actually say it. It’s probably better this way, because it’ll help Yuri understand that Tomoko does care about her, even if Tomoko doesn’t always have the forethought to express it herself. This is a relationship where both sides need to give each other a little push before they can really become BFF material.

Yuri’s feelings are indeed complicated, as is par for introverts who need their own space but paradoxically need a degree of social stimuli. But not to worry, Tomoko. You’re more than halfway there to figuring her out. 

I guess I should end off this review with some thoughts on Yoshida. On the surface, it is true that Yoshida appears a lot less complicated than her more emotionally complex friends, Yuri and Tomoko. It’s made some fans accuse Yoshida of being two-dimensional, what with her constant HAPPY-to-ANGRY episodes. I only somewhat agree, because with Yoshida, I believe that while she can be simple-minded, she isn’t simple in personality. She may not be articulate enough to show it, but there are signs in Yoshida’s behavior that push her beyond a simple delinquent stereotype, whether its by sharing an umbrella or changing her mind after a little earnest conversation. A lot of Yoshida’s character is a case of show, not tell, and I’m interested to see how a day like today will subtly affect Yoshida’s character in the future.

[moiraineswife]

1) I have a question that may or may not have to do with acowar (that you don't have to bother with if you don't want to). I had all of these opinions while reading the book - good, wholesome opinions about how much I loved certain plot points, certain ships, etc. I finish it, pretty happy (though admittedly not as happy as after acomaf), and go back on Tumblr... only to find everyone sort of hates it. I read through a lot of posts expressing really good points that I hadn't considered...

2) like how poorly Mor and Lucien were treated, how Rhys's character kind of regressed, how Feyre was not cool in the Spring court, and some ace- and biphobic shit. I realised I agree with most of it, and it made me feel kind of narrow-minded and stupid both for not noticing and for still liking the book even with all of its problematic aspects. I'm not even really sure what I'm asking, but you're really smart and nice and I want to know what you think? About the book and Tumblr's hate? (sorry)

Okay, first off, tumblr is a filthy salt pit where nothing is good and everything is vile and Problematic. I agree that I am a member of the current forming salt goblin army but...I think there’s an unhealthy mentality on here that everything must be bad and if there is one bad thing then you must burn the entire thing and all those who support it. It fosters this unhealthy hivemind and encourages you to just...Oh well that person is saying it’s bad I must accept this or else I am bad. 

Engage critically with media but do it on your own terms. If you like something this is fine! If you don’t that’s also fine! If you think it has good parts and bad parts then you’re probably doing this thing right. Nothing is perfect. But nothing is entirely condemnable either. Make up your own mind. (Which I’m aware you have done like it’s fine to see things from another person’s perspective and realise that you agree and alter your opinions but...Critically engaging with media is important but so is critically engaging with...the criticism.) OKAY. SERMON OVER. ONWARDS AND UPWARDS. 

I’m not really sure what you’re asking either tbh but I will just...Just pick at the points you mentioned and give you my gut reactions on them just now okay? (These may change when I have reread the thing which I’m planning on doing soon-ish. I require it to process properly) but as for now... 

Mor was treated poorly. Mor was, as a friend succinctly put it, hit by a plane and then a train and then a bus and then a car, just to be quite sure. I am not happy with the way Mor was treated in this book. At all. And I’ve been someone who has made posts about this (which I am not sure whether you have read or not but??) I stand by those. As a queer woman and as an abuse survivor her narrative was gross. I think she was used to generate angst and conflict within the Circle and was then shoved aside when that moment of conflict had passed and sjm didn’t really want to bother following-through with the consequences. This is an opinion it’s probably going to be hard to shift me off of tbh. 

Lucien....I know some people have complained about this but...Honestly? I wasn’t personally bothered my first read through? Or...I don’t think it was as bad as what happened to Mor. He got out of the Spring Court. He found a purpose again and people who wanted to put him to good use as opposed to just using him. I was not a fan of any of the Ianthe stuff especially as it got swept under a rug and was never dealt with (like...he was sexually assaulted twice...and....Not a whisper) And the comment about not asking Tamlin’s forgiveness incensed me like nothing else. I wanted that relationship being explicitly picked apart and said to be unhealthy. I would have liked to have seen him more, at the meeting with the High Lords, during the battle but...I think....It could have been worse. And it wasn’t wholly bad like Mor’s where she was repeatedly fucked over again and again and again. There were some moments with Lucien that I liked - seeing him in the Autumn Court, his journey with Feyre, some of the Elain scenes (NOT the library one where Feyre slipped into his head what the fuck was that) and his ending I felt was..Hopeful. This is something I want to think about a lot more when I re-read but..I can deal with what we got. 

I, personally, don’t think Rhys’ character regressed. I think the decisions that he made were perfectly IC and the things he did lined up with him. I don’t think it’s a regression to remind the readers that Rhys is morally grey and fucked up at times as well. (Especially with how black and white Feyre tends to be with people in her narrative - if she loves them she forgives them nearly everything, her response to Tamlin and how it changed when she fell out of love with him is a good example of this) I think the way the story then handled this sucked. See: The Mor/CoN incident. I don’t think that was OOC for Rhys. But I wanted far more lasting consequences. Grey morality is only a useful plot point if you actually make it grey and make it mean something. If you just have a character do something questionable then shrug your shoulders and five pages later have it all be smoothed over for them then what’s the point? I don’t have an issue with Rhys’ characterisation personally, this may change on a reread as I know others did but...I more have an issue with execution than content here. 

Feyre at the Spring Court is a similar problem to Rhys: they make mistakes that have a lasting impact on other people but it doesn’t affect them. There’s no repercussions it just gets glossed over and ‘oh well oopsy daisy’ which is just lazy writing tbh.  

I don’t know if this helps you?? I think there are problematic aspects of this book (that I have and will continue to criticise) but...if you still get something out of this series that’s valid? There are problems with it but I think we were all attached to these characters and your opinion is your own. Engage with the criticism (or don’t) but make up your own mind about how you feel. I just...Said what I thought here, this was my take on things...and it’s all subject to change when I reread it but...As it stands. Tehre were parts of this book that I liked (mostly character stuff) and I will probably remain in the fandom and keep ficcing things and the like and...I don’t think this was very helpful at all but...i don’t know, this was just..how I felt?