#anyways I think what I wrote was good? And I like it? So I am sharing it

[thatonebirdwrites]

This absolutely horrifies me and angers me so much.

I write and write, even while in severe pain. Because I love the act of creating. I've written million of words, hashed out the plots and characters, dug into the themes, crafted fun character arcs through research and ridiculous dreams -- my hands ache from typing sometimes.

But that joy of creating and sharing is why I do it.

I am disabled. There's a lot of things I simply cannot do, but I will write despite my limitations and pain because I will not let anyone or any system take away my mind and creativity. Transcription software is often a helpful tool for when my hands won't cooperate; tools like that aid me in getting my thoughts into the document. Generative AI does not aid in that. It steals your ability to think. It stills away your creativity. It gives you a shadow of what could have been, and relying on it? And being proud of it?

That's not writing. That's a bastardization of it. It's shitting on writing, smearing the shit onto AO3, and then proudly proclaiming you wrote that shit. No, you actually did not write that shit. It was pooped out by generative AI, which steals from millions of creators (illegally in some countries in fact, and why lawsuits keep being drawn up against the makers of it), plus it degrades the environment with how much energy and water it needs to power its servers. So you have a hallucinatory, poopful, sludge stolen from millions of others and crammed together with words that end up melting from their own inadequacy and shit-stained pyres.

Sorry, but I will not ever read that.

And no, writing isn't crafting a prompt for a machine to regurgitate somewhat random things for you.

Writing is actually sitting down to write with your hands (or feet for some disabled folks) or with your voice (transcription software), and using your own body and brain to create something from your heart and soul.

A machine cannot do that for you. Only you can do that.

Trust in your own body and mind, trust that whatever you write with your own abilities will be good and a million times better than what a machine vomits out. You can write it yourself without the aid of a machine. I believe in you.

Anyway, that's my rant of the year I guess.

Thanks for reading. Be safe.

just saw a fanfic on ao3 have a dedication for chatgpt... that section is meant for your horny perverted mutual who proofread your work, you violated sacred law and you will be torn apart and laid bare btw

[eerna]

i was one of the people who saw the early leaks post and i remember trying not to read too much of it but i had a moment of being like wow this cant be real but also it definitely could be. i remember reading about the damn caitvi sex scene and i thought to myself thats so ass why would they do it in a prison and then i realized the writers probably thought it was some meaningful parallel or something about vi being able to transform being imprisoned with something good

then the act dropped and i saw the damn parallels with cait finding her in the cell and i was like ok yeah. they basically had that as an idea. amanda overton was talking about it in a watch party and said they love their parallels and it was meant to symbolize vi addressing her trauma and im like. i see what they were going for and i get it I GUESS narratively but i really feel like this is such monkeys paw shit like we got this scene at what cost. and like the scene ITSELF was very good and sweet and lovely but like could it not have happened ANYWHERE ELSE?

i feel like the biggest problem with arcane s2 was that the creators rlly wanted to push the bar with animation storytelling. amanda talked about this too and like i feel like it kind of highlights the problem. where bc this show is so amazing graphically the animators wanna highlight that with as much action as possible instead of focusing on smaller scenes and more intimate quiet moments. i watched arcane s1 all at once after it came out and there were def parts that felt a little rushed in certain acts but it was nothing like s2. it just feels like they had all these story beats they wanted to hit but didnt give it the time it deserved and it sucks bc they said they always meant it to be 2 seasons so like why does it feel like this. they wrote them back to back around the same time what happened between s1 and s2. i just feel like the caitvi sex scene is a microcosm of the larger problem. they had these emotional beats and story moments that in isolation are really powerful but its almost like we didnt get a proper A to B transition. its like we skipped several steps for sooo many story beats.

such complex characters with real ass lives causing real ass problems. cait's privilege being an issue, how gratifying that could be to have explored. viktor's experience being explored more in depth. just so much more about zaun. like all of it was there in tiny slivers but it was never given the depth to GROW or properly BREATHE bc five million action scenes and plot points had to be squeezed in.

ultimately i love arcane overall. i think it has broken boundaries and done some amazing things. but its blemishes are really... painful at the same time. and knowing how the writers did such a good job in s1 makes me just like. cmon guys. you had it. YOU HAD IT

anyways sorry for blowing up your ask with so much rambling i just... idk. what are your thoughts on this stuff do you agree with my assessment or do you think the culprit is something else

No prob, welcome to the symposium~ Yeah, I totally get what the writers were going for with Vi. Which is why I am so shocked they thought it was a good idea. Like, okay, she is addressing her trauma in the sex scene... But why should her trauma get addressed by being locked in a jail cell by her sister, who just spent days being wrongfully imprisoned in there by the girl she's about to have sex with, and who then told her she was gonna off herself. If anything, the thing I was feeling was pain because it happened again, a Zaunite was thrown in jail by the Enforcers after she helped and saved them without any rights, and she was reminded she was less than them and her life is worth nothing... Mmmmm, the perfect memory to overwrite prison abuse!

I too felt s1 had some strange pacing choices, Vi and Jayce teamup comes to mind first, and that was, surprise surprise, a fight scene. But those were pretty minor, and still left time for other scenes to develop properly. It only becomes a real problem when it happens scene after scene, character after character, until no one is acting in character and you constantly feel like you have skipped a scene or two. I too remmeber them saying they wrote the seasons back to back, but. Dare I say it. I think s2 was so majorly rewritten by the time it went to recording that only the bare bones remained. In fact, that might be why we feel this way - maybe they DID have a frame they wanted to follow, but the rewrites warped and twisted the characters so intensely they ended up making no sense in the context of that frame. That's right, I'm talking about the way they decided to more closely follow and collaborate with LoL in s2. Jayce's final speech to Viktor only makes sense for game Viktor, and goes completely against s1 Viktor. Vi deciding police brutality doesn't really matter all that much makes sense for game Vi, and foes completely against s1 Vi. Jinx giving up on ever being loved or accepted by others makes sense for game Jinx, and goes completely against s1 Jinx.

So yeah my thesis is: Arcane knows it looks good, and sometimes it prevents it from being well written. It also decided to throw in its lot with LoL in s2, and no amount of good intentions from the writers could have saved it from crashing and burning.

[didalexiabreakupwitholgaisback]

Mario is getting cursed left and right on the bird app because of this article. I google translated it but I think some may have been mistranslated. Would you be able to help us on why their reaction is so bad. This is the article https://x.com/elmonarac1/status/1859993852977033433

well, you all should know that mariona is one of my all time favourite barça players, but the cursing is valid here and even i am shaking my head at this. 🤦‍♀️ especially the fact that it came on the same day that the federation and its cronies are actively attacking irene, misa, and jenni. it's really a wtf moment by mariona that tries to walk the line at staying diplomatic by not saying much, but that itself creates the problem. so yes, the 'always angry' faction of culers have a point here. 😬

anyway, mariona and the journalist who helped with her book, laia coll, gave a short interview with catalan radio (listen to the whole 20 min interview, don't just translate the article!) where they talk about her book and various topics covered in it.

the host asks about the selection and las 15/rubiales, and mariona says: "well, i think there has been a significant change in the federation in the conditions we have. i think that, obviously, from everything that happened, we are listened to and we feel that we have the context and the atmosphere to be able to do great things, which is, in the end, the only thing we want, to play and win."

and then the host went on to ask about irene and jenni not being called up and whether the conflict is still continuing and mariona says: "well, it's a complicated issue, isn't it? i, obviously, have no idea. i haven't spoken to montse. i'm not the one who makes the decisions, i don't know. i couldn't answer you, because i really don't know. i just don't know."

but then laia coll stepped in and said that irene is an exemplary captain and centerback and bad behaviour is impossible from irene and that if montse was not going to call her up, she should have done it with respect. and the host asks mariona again what she thinks and she says: "i think irene is an exemplary captain."

so yeah, i wish mariona just kept her mouth shut or explained what she meant about the federation changing because her statements did not help matters and were too diplomatic, bordering on conciliatory, whereas laia coll ended up having the better sound bytes, and most importantly, i wished mariona had made a strong statement about irene from the beginning.

i wrote about the cosmetic changes that rfef made in this post but we are talking about very basic changes like flying to away fixtures instead of taking overnight buses, and allowing families including children to stay with the team during camps and matches. the federation still has major systemic issues that need fixing.

i get that players are in a difficult position and mariona doesn't want to be controversial, but this was not the best moment from her. not a good look🤷‍♀️

[steddieas-shegoes]

cw: mentions of scarring, canon-typical violence, flashback (not graphic), minor body horror (again, not graphic, mostly just emotional feelings about scars)

♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️

Everyone gave him weird looks when they walked in, quickly schooling their features when they noticed he was awake and watching them.

He didn’t know exactly what that was about.

They had him on a lot of good drugs.

But eventually he got weaned off them, and he noticed the pull of bandages on his side, and his arm, and his neck, and his face.

He was still unable to get out of bed. Still couldn’t even reach his arms above his chest for more than a few seconds.

But he damn sure reached up to feel the cloth and plastic surrounding his cheek. How had he not noticed for days? How had no one bothered him about it?

Maybe they had and he just didn’t notice. The morphine was one hell of a drug.

Wayne was soft, patient with him. Saw him touching it, saw the way his eyes filled with tears. He’d never been particularly vain, hadn’t cared much about what he looked like to others, but this felt bigger than that. This felt like he was changed in a way that everyone could see.

Add it to the list of things people could bully him for.

He cried himself to sleep, Wayne’s hand in his, silently comforting in the way he’d always done.

When he woke up again the next morning, he was alone.

It was the first time he’d been alone since the boathouse.

He could swear he heard bats outside his door, screams coming from the attached bathroom, flashes of someone dying on the ceiling.

He felt the sharp sting of teeth puncturing his skin.

He felt hopelessness creep into his bones as he gave in.

Maybe this time they would finish the job.

“Eddie!”

Steve Harrington’s voice broke through the thoughts, panicked enough to bring Eddie back to his hospital bed within a second of hearing it.

“Shit, are you okay?” He continued, hand brushing against Eddie’s bandaged cheek.

Eddie nodded once, closed his eyes, leaned into the touch.

He could blame it on any number of things if Steve felt weird about it. The morphine, the flashback, the loneliness.

“You’re okay, Eddie. I promise. Won’t let anything happen to you,” Steve whispered.

Eddie believed him.

He fell back asleep with Steve’s hand gently cupping the mangled side of his face.

If Steve could still touch him there, then maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️

Steve came by every day, sometimes in the early morning, before visiting hours officially started, sometimes well after Wayne had left to get some sleep. He always smiled when he walked in, a genuine one, not the one everyone else gave that was so fully of pity and pain he couldn’t bear to make eye contact. He sat down on the side of the bed, not the chair like everyone else, not scared to be close.

And every single day, without fail, he would run his finger along the edge of Eddie’s bandage on his face, watching his own movements and cataloging any changes.

Eddie sat quietly, still, scared to put words to anything happening. Scared to tell Steve what it meant to him to have someone acknowledge his pain in this way. Scared to think Steve could mean anything by it.

It was easy to pretend Steve was doing this because he cared.

Maybe he did care.

But he didn’t care the way Eddie wanted him to, needed him to.

So he stayed quiet, still.

He watched.

He fell asleep while Steve talked about his day, the kids, what Joyce made Hopper do around the house.

He woke up alone most days, but that was okay, because Steve would be there eventually.

♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️

“You ready to get that thing off?” Wayne asked, gesturing to the bandage.

“Oh. Today?” Eddie suddenly didn’t want to ever be without the bandage. Removing it meant he’d see what was under it.

It meant seeing how much that place had ruined him.

The pull of the stitches hadn’t been as obvious with the pull of the bandage masking it.

But now it’s all he felt.

The nurse smiled at him as she put some antibiotic cream over the area, saying he would probably still have to keep it extra clean for the next week or so while the stitches did their job.

Wayne smiled at him in the way that meant he didn’t really want to smile at all, but knew Eddie needed him to.

Steve didn’t come.

Eddie didn’t sleep.

♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️

He woke up with panic in his chest and a silent scream in his throat.

He woke up with Steve’s hand on his face.

Gentle, soft, but a strong comfort.

“Promise I washed them first. They said we have to be careful about germs,” Steve said quietly.

“You don’t have to. I know it’s…it’s gross. It’s ugly. I’m ugly.”

Steve shook his head. “No. Not gross. Not ugly. Alive.”

“Steve-“

“You’re alive, Eddie. You could have your entire face held together by staples and you would still be a miracle. You’d still be the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

Well, Steve’s charm wasn’t an exaggeration, was it?

He wasn’t even sure if the skin barely pulled together could blush anymore, or if the heat that should be on his cheek was burning on the outside the way it felt like it was on the inside.

“It’s gonna be awful when it heals. I saw it in the mirror.” Eddie could feel every stitch in his jaw, the few that spread across the corner of his mouth and bottom lip, the ones that were nearly up to his ear. “I’ll always have a crooked face. The scar will always be huge. It’s all anyone will see.”

“Then they aren’t looking.”

Eddie bit his lip, eyes searching Steve’s. “But you are.”

“No. I’m seeing. There’s a difference. I see you. I see what you’ve survived. I see the mark it left on you. I know it wasn’t just the scars that cover your skin.” Steve leaned his head down, touching Eddie’s forehead with his own. “We all have them. And we’re all still here. Your heart’s beating. That’s all that matters to me.”

“Who knew you were so good with words?” Eddie smiled sadly.

“Robin says I’m just good at not having a filter.”

“She’s right as always.” Eddie wrapped his fingers around Steve’s wrist, turning as slowly as he could to kiss his palm. “You’re not scared of it.”

“No. Are you?”

“I’m scared that you’ll change your mind when it’s always there as a reminder of what happened.”

Steve kissed his nose, making him smile for the first time in what felt like years.

“I’ll have the reminder that I got you out of there. That no matter what, the bats couldn’t finish the job. That you were stronger and you made it.” Steve let his hand drop, but quickly laced his fingers with Eddie’s. “I know it’s a lot to ask of you to trust me, but will you? For today?”

“Just today?”

“I’ll ask again tomorrow.”

“And what? Every day after that?”

Steve smirked.

His eyes were glistening with tears, but Eddie could tell it wasn’t sadness or fear.

“If that’s what I have to do.”

They hadn’t even talked about feelings, not really. Nothing that made any sense to Eddie, nothing that they could define. A part of Eddie was still convinced he was in a coma and dreaming this entire conversation up.

But even the nurse had noticed the way Steve watched him, how he touched him, how he fought for him. She said he’d been a firecracker from the moment he carried him into the hospital, dripping blood on the tile, staining the halls with his demands for help.

Wayne said he barely left his side the first day, only doing so when the doctors had told him they would call the cops if he didn’t.

Erica even noticed how things had changed between them, stating that she refused to watch her babysitter and the only DM she had respect for make out.

But Steve held Eddie, made him feel like he could get out of the hospital bed and live a life that wouldn’t keep him running. Steve was there.

Steve might even love him. If not now, then some day.

And Eddie could trust him today.

He could probably trust him tomorrow.

“Kiss me?” Eddie probably shouldn’t. The stitches tugged when he talked, and another mouth anywhere near his wounds was just asking for an infection.

But Steve would be careful. He knew what Eddie could handle.

It was barely a kiss. A graze of the lips at most.

But it was the best kiss Eddie had ever had.

At least until tomorrow.

[winterdaphne2]

Thank you so much for answering this! There's no need to apologize for a delay at all :) I know I'm late in responding myself, so I'm going to tag you here as well @asherlockstudy in the hopes you'll see this.

You've made some great points, so thank you for giving me the chance to think about all this again. I still think I have more thoughts and unanswered questions, though, so I tried to respond...and then wrote the below, which is basically an excessively long meta of my own thoughts on when John may or may not have realized. I'd be happy to hear what you think if you'd like to reply again, but there's no pressure :)

First, thank you for linking to your meta about "John's choices." It's been a while since I've read it, but I read through it again and I'm really glad you explained the scene between Sherlock and John in the entryway to 221B at the end of TEH. I'm intrigued by your point about how John tries to get Sherlock to open up in this scene. Relatedly, I agree with your comments on this meta about the train car scene. In that scene, Sherlock deliberately led John to believe that they were both about to die in the hopes that if John thought those were his last moments, he would finally open up about his feelings for Sherlock, admit that he was in love with Sherlock and not with Mary, and agree to leave Mary for Sherlock. But Sherlock misjudged the situation. John still wasn't prepared to face his feelings at that point. For John, the confrontation in the train car came too soon after Sherlock's return and before he'd had enough time to process how he truly felt about Sherlock being back. Sherlock was heartbroken when he realized that John wasn't prepared to open up and say more than he did at the graveyard, but when he saw this was the case, he revealed that he'd already turned off the bomb and used humor to diffuse the situation (which is a strategy Sherlock uses several times in S3 when he and John get themselves into emotional situations that he thinks they're unprepared to handle).

I especially appreciate your point about the entryway scene because your reading of this scene suggests that John might have only needed another day or two after that tense moment in the train car before he actually would be prepared to talk to Sherlock about his feelings. This fits so well with John's earlier behavior in TEH! When Sherlock first revealed himself to John at the Landmark, John was furious with him, and they clearly didn't part on good terms that evening. But the next day, less than 24 hours later, John had already cooled off and was counting down the hours until he could visit Sherlock after work. So perhaps John felt very similarly during and after the train car scene. At first everything happens too quickly for him, and he isn't prepared to reveal how he feels. But a day later, he's had time to process and he's ready to have a more honest conversation with Sherlock, if Sherlock seems receptive.

But of course, Sherlock doesn't understand this. Sherlock thinks that John gave him his answer in the train car and that John still isn't prepared to face his feelings for him and leave Mary. Part of the problem, I think, is that Sherlock never seems to have realized that John tried to visit him at 221B the day after he returned to London. John tried to visit Sherlock that day after his shift at the surgery, but he was kidnapped by Magnussen's men before he got up to the flat. And when John came to visit Sherlock after he rescued him from the bonfire, John didn't make any references to his earlier attempt to come to 221B. It seems like Sherlock was away from the flat and out with Molly when John came by anyway, so he couldn't have observed John on the pavement. So Sherlock never seems to know about this. He never realizes that all John needed was just one day to cool off. As a result, Sherlock closes himself off from John in the entryway scene, trying to mask how he feels as an act of self-preservation.

I am less convinced that John already knows about Sherlock's feelings by this point, though. After all, Moriarty kidnapped John to get to Sherlock back in TGG, and that didn't seem to prompt any epiphanies for John. John didn't seem to realize what Sherlock and Moriarty both had by the end of the pool scene—that Sherlock was in love with John, and that Moriarty could destroy Sherlock by either hurting John or damaging Sherlock and John's relationship.

I agree that by the time the stag night rolls around in TSOT, John has started to feel desperate and would be fully willing to cheat on Mary with Sherlock (or perhaps even leave her for him) if he felt that Sherlock gave him the go-ahead. During the stag night, Sherlock carefully tracks their alcohol intake because he believes that John truly wants to be with Mary and he's determined not to mess this up for John by allowing the two of them to cross their carefully-maintained boundaries with each other. John, however, has other ideas. John purposely spikes Sherlock's drink and takes extra shots himself in a deliberate effort to get them both drunk so that he can make a move on Sherlock. When they're back at 221B and playing the "forehead detectives" game, John does exactly that. But even though Sherlock seems relaxed and comfortable, John doesn't think Sherlock gives him enthusiastic encouragement, and he backs down. (LIST explains this in their meta here.)

To me, all of this indicates that John thinks there's hope that Sherlock might return his feelings, but he still has a lot of doubts. John has never gotten what he sees as a clear answer from Sherlock, so the fact that he thinks they both need to be drunk before he can try to make a move reveals that John doesn't feel completely confident about this. I think this likely demonstrates both that John isn't completely sure how Sherlock feels about him, and that John still isn't comfortable with what his love for Sherlock means for his own sexuality. John seems to have a lot of internalized biphobia in S3 (which is a whole other topic). And even though John knows that he isn't in love with Mary the way he is with Sherlock, and even though he might feel conflicted about settling down with her, he also seems reluctant to let go of his chance at a heteronormative lifestyle with Mary unless Sherlock is completely clear with him.

I've seen a few other people also point to that moment at the wedding reception, after Sherlock reveals that Mary is pregnant, as the moment when John finally realizes that Sherlock is in love with him. I think that's possible, but there's one thing that happens after this that really, really throws me off.

It's the scene between John and Lestrade at 221B in HLV after Sherlock escapes from the hospital. John says to Lestrade, "But why would he care? He’s Sherlock. Who would he bother protecting?" as he sits down in his own chair. And John looks genuinely confused when he say this. John!! In that moment, John still doesn't seem to realize that he is the most important person in the world to Sherlock and that Sherlock would do anything to protect him. Perhaps giving us even more evidence of this, Sherlock calls John's phone a few moments later, and John doesn't immediately answer. If we're following the phone = heart metaphor, then Sherlock is trying to reach out to John's heart, but John still doesn't get it and isn't immediately receptive. ("Answer your phone, I've been calling you!")

I agree that the scene between Sherlock, John, and Mary at 221B after they return from Leinster Gardens is an incredibly important Johnlock scene, but I read John's actions in this scene a little differently from how you do. It seems to me that John still doesn't realize that Sherlock is in love with him, and in this scene John feels furious at himself for being so in love with Sherlock when he believes that Sherlock will never feel the same way about him. John is angry at himself for never being able to let Sherlock go, no matter how hard he tries. Making things even worse, John thinks, when he tried to move on from Sherlock and find someone who wasn't like Sherlock, someone who could give him the safe, heteronormative lifestyle that he thinks he's supposed to want, the whole thing blew up in his face and led to this awful situation. So when John grits out "Always your way," to Sherlock, I think he's expressing his frustration that no matter what happens, he will always do things Sherlock's way. John is disgusted and angry at himself for being so hopelessly in love with Sherlock and unable to move on when he thinks that Sherlock will never love him back.

I do think it's possible that John finally figures things out at some point in HLV, though, and that's because of the waterfall scene in TAB. In that scene, we get this exchange:

Sherlock: Thank you, John. John: Since when do you call me “John”? Sherlock: (smiling tenderly) You’d be surprised. John: (smiling back at him) No, I wouldn’t.

As you and @ivyblossom said here, this is the moment when John reveals that he knows Sherlock is in love with him. And I also think that the way John delivers this dialogue and the tender shared smiles between him and Sherlock indicate that John is completely at peace with this. So if we read this scene as one of the many scenes in TAB that tell us something about the parts of the show that we've already seen, then this seems to give us proof that by the time Sherlock got on the plane in HLV, John had already realized that Sherlock was in love with him—and had perhaps even made peace with that.

If that's the case, but John still didn't know by the time of the scene between him and Greg in 221B, then I think it's most likely that John figured it out after Sherlock shot Magnussen. That was an incredible act of love and self-sacrifice on Sherlock's part, and even though John doesn't seem to immediately realize this in the moment, his behavior during the tarmac scene suggests that he might have figured it out afterwards. During the tarmac scene, John clearly telegraphs through his body language that he isn't prepared for an emotional goodbye with Sherlock. Sherlock picks up on this, and because Sherlock is so incredibly selfless and loves John so much, he backs down from his initial plan of finally telling John that he loves him. Sherlock realizes that John can't handle hearing that, so he once again switches to humor to try to diffuse the situation and to make John more comfortable. So, I think it's possible that John realized Sherlock was in love with him after he shot Magnussen, and that's part of why he's so upset and so unprepared for an emotional goodbye on the tarmac.

But...I say this mostly because of the waterfall scene in TAB, and I don't think the tarmac scene alone gives us definitive proof. It would still be entirely reasonable for John to feel and act the way he does on the tarmac because of his own feelings for Sherlock, without knowing that Sherlock is in love with him.

Ultimately, I think TAB still leaves things murky. There are two other possible readings of the waterfall scene, as I see it. First, all of this happens in Sherlock's head, so it's possible that this is simply what Sherlock wants desperately. Sherlock longs for John to realize that he's in love with him, to finally overcome his internalized biphobia, and to accept both his feelings for Sherlock and Sherlock's feelings for him wholeheartedly. So this could all be Sherlock's dream, but not his and John's reality at this point in the show. Alternatively, I also think the waterfall scene was initially intended to foreshadow a different ending to the show (one where Moriarty was actually still alive) that the creators abandoned for some unknown reason when they made S4. I know you've written about this scene as foreshadowing in your TAB metas! So perhaps we could also read the dialogue between John and Sherlock here as foreshadowing, indicating that John would eventually come to realize that Sherlock was in love with him and accept this. But he hadn't yet.

So in the end, I'm not sure that we have an answer as to whether or not John ever realizes that Sherlock is in love with him. The big thing that really throws things off for me is that one scene between John and Greg in HLV, because it really seems to indicate that John hadn't figured things out before that point. (If you or anyone else reading this has another explanation for that scene, though, I'd love to hear it!) If it weren't for John's dialogue in that scene, I could definitely see a lot of the other scenes in HLV as evidence that Sherlock and John both know about each other's feelings. And I also totally agree with you that something seems to have gone terribly wrong behind the scenes after S3, and the creators scrapped their original plans for the show's ending. To me, that's a big reason why TAB leaves things feeling so ambiguous. Since we'll never know exactly what the creators were planning for the rest of the show when they made TAB, it's hard to know if the waterfall scene was meant to provide commentary on events that had already happened, to reflect Sherlock's desires and nothing more, or foreshadow what was yet to come. And if it was intended to do some mixture of all three, then we don't know what that means for the Johnlock moment in that scene.

Anyway, thanks again for replying to my ask! I'm sorry I wrote something so long right back at you, but this post just got longer and longer the more I thought about everything! A big thank you to anyone else who might have stumbled upon this and read it 😊

Hi! If you're still open to answering Sherlock-related asks, I was wondering when you think John realized Sherlock was in love with him? I know you've said you think they both know about each other's feelings, and I'm with you on when Sherlock figures out about John. But I've never been able to quite figure out when John recognizes Sherlock's feelings. I think the waterfall scene in TAB implies that John knows, and I think he might know by the time of the tarmac scene. But I'm not sure. Thanks!

Hello! I am so sorry for this huge delay. I was busy IRL and at the same time a lot of stuff was happening in another fandom which is very active rn, so the ask was kinda staying behind. I know answered asks get a notification however I will tag you here too @winterdaphne2 to make sure you see this after all this time.

Yes, I strongly believe John knows by HLV. I talk about it a little in the meta "Why did Sherlock push John and Mary back together?" . The key phrase "Your way. Always your way" and the context within which it was uttered, John's confession that Mary was never supposed to be someone he would truly fall in love with (as opposed to Sherlock who was ticking all John's boxes, adventurous people living in danger etc) and Sherlock understanding it but pretending he didn’t and thus failing John and provoking more anger in him ("Why is everything...always... MY FAULT?!"), all those things make me conclude John knew by that point that Sherlock loved him and yet he was insisting on doing nothing about it. In other words, John knew the truth.

As to when he first realised, well we should keep in mind that John suspects Sherlock is gay from the very first day they moved in together because everybody who knows Sherlock insinuates it, Mycroft, Mrs Hudson, Donovan... The fact that from the Blind Banker onwards John suddenly becomes very heteronormative and defensive shows he feels a "threat" in the atmosphere, both due to his own impulses but also due to Sherlock's flamboyant demeanour, his habits, including casually walking around him naked (see John’s blog). In fact, when John starts suspecting Sherlock might be into the Woman, he's equal parts angry and startled. I suppose there was no way to know before the third season because Sherlock was so emotionally guarded, however he did hope, given his suspicions that Sherlock was gay and that their bond was unique and he was visibly an exception in how Sherlock treated people in his life.

At the wedding night John sees the sorrow on Sherlock's face and nearly has a heart attack. I think everything was confirmed there for him. However, I think the time he started landing on the conclusion for good was in TEH. This is the episode in which, after John is kidnapped and thrown into the fire, John keeps pressing Sherlock for an answer regarding why one would choose to harm him if it's Sherlock they are after. He is not truly wondering though. He lingers in the pavement (always a romantic affair, Sherlock tells us in the next episode) and then goes up and asks this with a very knowing look. Then again towards the end of the episode, in the staircase. His face screams suspicion, it screams tease, it screams expectation to finally hear Sherlock say it. Alas, Sherlock doesn't. Met with Sherlock's stubborness and with a wedding proposal looming over his head, John has no choice but to open up himself so he starts telling Sherlock that he went to his grave and "spoke" to him. Sherlock acknowelges this but again chooses to avoid the conversation John tries to start multiple times. John gives up and resumes his proposal to Mary. I think at this episode John finally knew for sure but he also realised that Sherlock was determined to not act on his feelings. I have made a more detailed analysis of this with pictures in the meta "John's Choices (from TEH to TLD)".

Besides, the next episode, TSOT, is the only time John actually makes a physical advance on Sherlock. Sure he was inebriated but I think John had SO many inhibitions anyway that even when drunk he would not be so bold if he wasn’t getting all the green lights of the world from Sherlock at that moment. So, he knew. He knew that if Sherlock dropped his fascade, he would want this.

[aroaceleovaldez]

Mark Oshiro confuses me a little bit not going to lie. In the press tour for the first book all they ever talked about was how Nico is their son and Will is fine I guess. Then they said like 2 weeks before TSATS came out that they didn't understand Will's character at all and it's one of the main reasons why Will has so little POV.

Possibly unpopular opinion but I don't think it's a good, encouraging sign when the writer admits to not really caring about the deuteragonist or not even having a sense of how to write them...

Yeah, no. If you have no interest in 1/2 of the POV characters of your book, you REALLY shouldn't be writing it (or at least, not have that be a main character). Especially when the main way TSATS could have been improved is if it was primarily Will-centric instead of Nico-centric. Will basically had next to no established character prior to TSATS! He was practically a blank slate! But all the new stuff we got for Will in TSATS was so clearly disinterested and had no regard for his previously established traits (or the established timeline/canon). Which is annoying because fleshing out Will would have been the PERFECT opportunity to actually incorporate a lot of the topics that Mark Oshiro specializes in as a sensitivity reader, which was the ENTIRE REASON THEY WERE BROUGHT ON AS A CO-AUTHOR!!!!

As TSATS stands, there is no reason for Mark Oshiro specifically to have been the co-author instead of someone else. It's so clearly just a PR move from RR following the huge backlash Rick received due to his response to criticism on how he wrote Piper and Samirah (and Reyna and etc etc). This was immediately following Rick saying he wasn't going to write what would become TSATS because "it [wasn't his] place to." Most of the topics that Mark Oshiro specializes in either weren't relevant at all to TSATS or written very poorly (to downright offensively) in TSATS, so either Mark Oshiro wasn't doing their job or was not able to do their job for some reason, but either way it basically makes the theoretical justification for Mark Oshiro being the co-author/sensitivity reader irrelevant.

With Will, it was HUGE fanon back in the day for him to be trans. Trans!Will and photokinesis!Will were basically the two biggest headcanons for him (both largely popularized by Cherryandsisters). We know Rick is aware of this old fanon because he canonized photokinesis!Will. If we had gotten trans!Will, that would have been great! And then made sense why we specifically got a trans co-author! (Instead, if anything, TSATS canonized Will being cis.) If we had gotten Will being latino, that would have been amazing!!!! And also then made sense as to why they chose Mark Oshiro for the job as a latinx author/sensitivity-reader, versus potentially choosing an Italian co-author since Nico being Italian/Venetian was emphasized so much in the book (and done poorly! Yknow what they could have done to fix that? GOTTEN A SENSITIVITY READER FOR IT)! Based on the themes and focuses actually present in the book, it would have been most logical to get a queer, neurodivergent, Italian co-author or sensitivity reader who specializes in those three topics at least. But we didn't! So why was Mark Oshiro chosen instead when they only specialize in one of those topics? PR reasons. It's blatantly entirely PR reasons and no actual thought or care was put into this book (or, likely, TSATS 2 either).

It doesn't help that we're also actively being told that the published version of TSATS was a rough draft. Or that their editor blatantly isn't doing her job. Or that "The Sun And The Star" was the working title that they just kept cause they didn't bother to make an actual title. And that the final version is full of explicitly last-minute scenes that weren't checked over at all (the final Bianca scene, for one). Or the ACTIVELY ADMITTING TO SOURCING IDEAS AND INFORMATION FROM FANS! That last one is kind of important because at this level of publishing that is a HUGE no-no for legal reasons. You can get into a lot of trouble for that and there is a reason why it is Ye Olde Fandom Law to never try to pitch your ideas or headcanons to the source creator(s) and keep fandom separate from the creators. There is a REASON why Rick Riordan is so distant from the community these days and it's for PROTECTION AGAINST LEGAL REPERCUSSION. Mark Oshiro being the exact opposite while also ACTIVELY ACKNOWLEDGING sourcing concepts from fans does not bode well! It has to do with copyright stuff.

It's just. So. Sighhhhhhhh >->o <- me lying on the floor about all of this. It's sad being able to see the glimmer of what could have been at the very least a decent book underneath all this. If anyone involved in the process had actually cared just the tiniest amount.

[natasha-in-space]

So I'm replaying Ray's After ending rn, and it got me thinking that what I adore so much about Rika as an antagonist is just how damn scary she can be. I always found those who cause harm with good intentions (at least in their point of view) much scarier than those who hurt you with pure intention on hurting you. I think the best example of it is this CG in particular:

Look at that. Such a loving, gentle expression on her face. Probably kissing his forehead. Because she loves him. Heck, without any context, this CG looks even sweet, if you think about it. And yet, all that is while Saeyoung is forcefully sedated on a powerful concoction of drugs even a trained agent like him can't do anything about (and Saeyoung WAS definitely trained to deal with this sort of thing, hence it's mentioned that this is a 'special' kind of drugs). He looks miserable. Bags under his eyes, his expression pained and troubled, even his hair is paler than usual. All that as a direct result of her actions. But she's utterly blind to it. What's scarier, is that she knowingly shuts off her understanding of what's really happening. She's not oblivious to it at all. She just chooses not to see it that way. Simply because she doesn't want to.

Rika is the type of antagonist that will cup your cheek into her warm hand with the most loving of smiles on her face, all while you are getting elixir poured down your throat. Even whispering to you that you're doing great, that the pain will soon pass, and that she can't wait to see you reach the happiness she knows you deserve. I won't be surprised if she even cried genuine tears of compassion during some ceremonies for her believers. All while being the sole reason behind their suffering.

And that's... God, that's terrifying to me. I love that about her.

Rika Kim, they could never make me hate you

[sophiethewitch1]

www!reader WILL call batman a pussy for not killing on her private twitter. she does it like every other day. its cathartic

[captn-trex]

wnefojaenf thank you so much !!!!! i'm honoured to be subjected to a lupe-style ramble haha <3

I'm gonna ramble back because you pointed out some stuff that I love

yeah this characterisation was super fun to write. at first I was worried he would come across as a little boring, kinda just being gentlemanly and nice or whatever, but I think that when they're opening up to each other it becomes a nice compliment to the way the reader goes on, particularly as she can be a little flirty and he's just like 😳 idk how to deal with this

and that's my favourite bit of the chapter too omg !!!! I'm not really one to think that my writing is good enough to dissect a lot, but that interaction was definitely something I thought about a lot, and that one section you pulled really shows the entire crux of why they work well together. she's just speaking honestly, just saying what she truly believes, and howzer almost takes it as a joke like 'oh yeah, well what am I owed?' but without hesitation she tells him that he deserves a lot more than how he thinks about himself. having him kinda not understanding the gravity of her words [about him getting what he's owed] at first was important to me, like it doesn't really click for him just how simply compassionate she is until that moment, and honestly that there are people in the galaxy who actually care about what happens to him and his brothers.

and this links so much to what you said about howzer's inner thoughts!!! this story ends basically right before we meet him in tbb (but we're gonna pretend he doesn't get imprisoned because I choose to live in delusion), and at first I was wondering if I was making it too political compared to what he's like in the show (in the part 2 particularly) but then I rewatched his s1 episodes and I do think it fits really well with how he acts, like he's kinda just worn down and suspicious of the imperials and.. yeah. I guess I tried to implement that, and also give a reason as to why he's so sceptical (it's because reader as been feeding him anti-imperial propaganda hehe)

yeah the whole clone rights business really scratches my brain in the right way. the picnic scene was my favourite to write in the whole thing I think :) just opening up to one anther, and howzer getting to see who she really is.

and thank you!! yeah I definitely put a lot of myself into this fic, particularly with the more political stuff (definitely inspired by my thoughts on.. real life events, even though I wrote most of if before the election)

anyway sorry that was long lmao, you just picked out some stuff that really exemplified what I was trying to do so that's really awesome :) I'm glad it got across to you :) thank you so much for reading !! <3<3

angel of small death

Howzer x F!Reader / Twi'lek!Reader 

word count: 7.8k / 23k

part one | part two | part three

description: after the rise of the Empire, Howzer finds his position on Ryloth to be precarious at best, but his attention is drawn from his troubles when he finds himself captivated by a new politician’s arrival

warnings/tags: 18+ !!! strangers to lovers, mutual pining, some angst — political thoughts/discussions throughout, specific reference to clone rights/treatment/autonomy in this part, fluff :) smut in part three

a/n: ok I'm actually very proud of this one. lowkey my magnum opus. It took so fucking long to write though omg. if you get the title you get it, re: français risqué. but also howzer is hozier-coded in my mind and I can't tell you what that means. gentlemanly but not immune to hot women? perhaps? part two in a couple days :)

masterlist | join my taglist

Howzer shifted uncomfortably in his spot. He had never been one to play politics, but the conversations that he had been overhearing of late had him worried.

He stood guard at the door while Cham Syndulla spoke with diplomats of various denominations around a large oval table, and all the talk of the newly risen Empire made his insides twist with an unpleasant feeling. There was something truly sinister in play, he just couldn’t place it. That’s what distressed him the most about it.

He had heard of a new refinery that was situated at the edge of the city, he’d heard the rumours that the Empire’s methods were less than humane, that they were using slave labour. He didn’t want to put stake in false claims, but the whispers were getting louder. He wouldn’t dare speak of it to Cham, especially not now, while tensions were already so high.

He could see the focus on his superior’s face, a displeased expression that he knew all too well; a deep frown on his lips that would turn the tide of any conversation to his favour. The senatorial representatives seemed unphased, however. Howzer presumed they were more familiar with the tactics of politicians, of which Cham wasn’t recognised as by the senate, despite how much harder he had fought for Ryloth’s freedom than Orn Free Taa. The Hammer of Ryloth would fall on anyone in his path eventually, no matter how they were resisting his opening gambit, Howzer knew that.

It was what worried him the most.

There was no way Cham would be allowed to continue partaking in senator-level discussions, not when it was well known how the true senator of Ryloth felt threatened by his mere existence. He worried what Cham would do then. He could never be forced into subservience.

“Captain” the voice of his superior called to him, and he straightened, his gaze shifting over to the Twi’lek who approached, “is everything alright?”

“Everything is fine, sir” he replied assuredly, a respectful nod accompanying his words.

The diplomatic guests filed out of the door beside him, and Cham gave him an unsubtle and questioning look.

“Well then” he motioned to the door, “we are now to meet Senator Orn Free Taa in the foyer”

Howzer visibly cringed as he left the room behind Cham. He had never liked the politician. It was clear how little interest he had in his people, and how all of his attention was instead focused on making himself seem more important. Howzer didn’t play politics, but it didn’t take a genius to see that much.

He stalked down the hallway in silence, one step behind Cham, who in turn kept his distance from the senatorial reps.

“What is it Captain?” the Twi’lek asked him in a hushed voice, turning to face him.

Howzer sighed, looking to the floor ahead of him, “nothing sir, it’s just been a long week”

“Hm” Cham seemed unconvinced by his explanation, but he took it anyway, “it has been indeed”

At the start of the week, Howzer was still a soldier of the Republic. He was still a Captain in the Grand Army. Now? He wasn't sure what he was, or what he would become either. His men had been acting exceeding strangely, and he didn't know what to make of it. He figured that if he kept his head down and followed orders, something would come to light eventually.

The elevator ride down to the ground floor was quiet, and Howzer couldn’t have been more uncomfortable. The ping that let them know they had arrived brought a welcome reprieve to the tense atmosphere that surrounded the discontented politicians.

Cham's wife, Eleni, swept down stairs opposite, lifting the hem her gown in one hand. She held herself with the grace of a queen, acting accordingly, and Howzer had the utmost respect for her. He gave her a steady bow of his head, and she smiled warmly at him in return before greeting her husband with a kiss to his cheek.

“Where is our guest, my dear?” Cham spoke, running a hand down her arm.

Eleni chuckled, a pleasant and breathy sound, “Be patient my love”

Howzer kept his distance, hovering at the edge of everything. He preferred not to be involved, it was only his job to stand guard after all, and it was certainly no shame to miss out in conversation with Orn Free Taa.

The grand doors that opened into the square parted, a party of four being ushered in. It was unusual, ordinarily there was only the Senator and two of his aides. Howzer paid it no mind, keeping his gaze on those he was charged with protecting.

That was until his eyes caught the lilac skin of the fourth Twi'lek to enter the room. Her demeanour was a stark contrast to that of her counterparts. She bore a plain expression, and had none of the smug self-importance that the others had so perfected. Her clothes were a little more grandiose than the other aides, robes of rich velvet and silk hanging from her frame, cinched against skin and flowing freely in equal parts. She looked regal, and yet, there was something reserved about her appearance, as if she didn't want to make herself known.

For all that she hadn’t caught the attention of the other people present, Howzer could scarcely take his eyes from her.

“Senator” Cham welcomed him inside, “how wonderful it is to see you”

Howzer could hear how strained his voice was in saying the false words, and in the reply from the Senator even more so. He was not interested in the specifics of the mock flattery between the rival Twi'leks, he instead turned his focus to the woman who insisted on hiding herself behind the Senator.

He trailed his eyes down her lekku, which stretched past her waist and were adorned by pale swirling markings, reaching forwards towards her face and beneath her headdress. Her eyes were darkened by makeup, but when her irises met his, he was struck by the spark of life within them.

Her eyes found his a number of times throughout the exchange, the only two people who were not engaged in conversation. He tried to keep from staring entirely, not wishing to make her uncomfortable or seem improper, but his eyes always found their way back.

Eventually, Eleni addressed her, finally noticing the person who hung back from the Senator.

“What is your name? I don't think we've met before” she asked, taking her hand to shake.

You went to speak, but the Senator beat you to it.

“This is my aide” he explained, giving your name.

You looked at the man with a small amount of contempt before giving a polite nod to Eleni, “it’s a pleasure to meet you ma’am”

The sound was music to Howzer's ears. Your accent was similar to that of the other Twi'leks, though softened slightly, as if you had been off world for a long time.

Eleni smiled graciously, “the pleasure is all mine”

You stepped backwards, your hands folded neatly in front of you, and the conversation shortly dwindled. Cham was finding he had little to say to the pompous Senator, and luckily he was saved by way of his daughter, Hera, invading the room with her droid in toe.

Howzer smiled at the sight, and even more when Orn Free Taa looked visibly uncomfortable at the intrusion. He kept his head down from that point on, for fear of being called out for laughing at the Senator. He instinctively glanced over at you once more, and was pleasantly surprised to see you also having to hide your laughter.

Your lips were twisted in a smirk, your hand coming up to partially cover it, but from the angle, nothing was hidden from the clone. Your eyes met his, and a small moment passed between you, both of you having to try harder to supress your chuckles.

Howzer was convinced by that simple action alone, without having spoken to you himself, that in time he would find you to be the most welcome company.

When Howzer left the barracks the following morning, he was displeased to find that the air outside still felt heavy. It had been this way since the shift in power, an invisible mist that surrounded the people of Ryloth, but specifically his men. He took a deep breath, seeking some of the fresh air that should be present on sunny mornings such as this one, but evidently the powers of the galaxy didn’t see fit to reward him with any relief.

His walk towards the senate bureau was short enough, but Howzer revelled in every moment he could. Before long he’d be holed up inside once more, listening to overzealous politicians discuss the future of the planet, as if they knew the first thing about the inhabitants of it. Howzer couldn't help but feel resentful towards the bureaucrats. They posed as public servants, but being inside their talks, he knew they only cared for themselves. It was the reason that Cham and his freedom fighters had even had to step up during the war.

He tried not to let it weigh on his mind. There was nothing he could do to fix it, after all, and with the Empire on the rise, he wouldn’t presume that anyone else could either. He held back a sigh as he turned the corner into the square that the bureau overlooked, not needing to be questioned on why he looked so utterly defeated. As he strode across the square, his eyes caught on a glimmer of light, shining and dancing in the early morning sun, which he discovered had bounced from your silver headwear.

Howzer didn’t expect to see you again so soon, and he couldn't help but notice how utterly lost and confused you looked, wandering along the edge of the square and glancing all about the place. He smiled softly, adjusting his grip on his helmet, and changed direction to cross in your path.

“Are you alright miss?” he asked softly, not wishing to scare you.

You whirled around nonetheless, evidently a little surprised that someone had approached you. The moment your eyes caught his, he could see the embarrassment flash across them, and you let out a quiet self-deprecating chuckle.

“I appear to be lost” you informed him, though he had already figured that much out.

Instead of telling you that, he asked, “where are you headed?”

“Um… I'm not entirely sure” you admitted, a mauve blush appearing across your cheeks. Howzer gave you a patient smile as you collected yourself, finding it hard not to be instantly enamoured by you. “Might you know where the Senator resides?” you asked him, a hopeful look in your eyes.

He nodded, “I can show you the way if you like”

Your eyes lit up a little at his words, “that would be lovely, though I do hope it's not too far out of your way”

“It's not” Howzer assured with a kind smile, “this way”

You followed the clone trooper silently across the square, and he took stock of you in a flick of his eyes. Your robes were a dark plum colour, a little less formal than the queenly attire you had been wearing the previous day, but exceedingly opulent nonetheless. It was hard not to notice the clothes that you wore, not only because of their sophistication, but also because he himself never changed from the armour that he currently wore on his back.

“How long have you been working for Senator Taa?” he inquired, holding open the door to the building.

He noticed the way you sighed, squaring your jaw before you spoke, “a little over 3 years”

“So… you live on Coruscant?” he prompted, aiming to move the conversation from the imperious senator.

“I did” you looked up at him as you walked in tandem, a sad smile pulling at the corner of your lips.

Howzer instinctively raised his brows a little, “you don't like it here?”

“I do” you confirmed in an assured voice, your hands closing around your robes and lifting them an inch as you began climbing the stairs, “it’s my home planet, it’s just…”

Howzer watched the way your throat tightened as you forced yourself to swallow, burying your words. The action was filled with all the grace and restraint of a politician, though it was obvious that something was bothering you.

You gave him a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes, “I shouldn’t say. It’s not my place”

Howzer nodded with an amiable enough expression, though his eyes observed your movements carefully. Your fingers slotted together as the two of you reached the top of the stairs, hands joined in front of your robes, your gaze ahead of you, fixed and steady, and your mouth a hard line. You were impossible to read, and he found it more than a little unnerving.

“What about you?” you turned your attention to the clone beside you, “do you like it here?”

Howzer was a little startled. Aside from his brothers, no one but Cham or Eleni ever asked him about himself. There was an expectancy in your eyes however, something kind and patient as you waited for him to reply, something that told him you cared to know his answer.

“Oh, well” he began a little inelegantly, “anything is better than Kamino, I suppose”

You chuckled, a charming sound that made Howzer’s heart flutter with pride, “have you always been stationed here?”

“For most of my time in the war, yes” he replied, guiding you through a doorway and towards the office that the two of you had been searching out.

The hall was far more luxurious than those which Howzer usually passed through. There were grand arches and satin curtains which swayed gently in the breeze, the lavish wooden windows thrown open to overlook the city. Your imposing garb didn’t seem so garish here, it just made Howzer feel underdressed.

“Well, this is it” he smiled cordially, gesturing a gloved hand to the door at the end of the hall.

“Thank you” you stopped, squaring your shoulders with his and giving him an apologetic look, “I’m sorry, I didn’t even ask your name”

Howzer couldn’t help but smile at you with more intention. He had never known a politician apologise to him.

“It’s Howzer” he spoke, “and it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, ma’am”

You let out a breathy laugh, shaking your head slightly and a certain twinkle in your eye, “the pleasure is all mine, as long as you don’t call me that again”

Howzer huffed a small laugh, “certainly, my apologies”

“No need for apologies” you waved him off, “but thanks are in order, I would never have found my way here without you”

You held out your hand, and it took a moment for Howzer to register what was going on. He hesitated for a second longer even so, unsure if it was proper conduct to be touching senate officials, but your gracious expression made him give in. He took your hand and shook it firmly, though not gripping too hard for how delicate it looked wrapped by his fingers.

“Anytime” he bowed his head in respect and let his hand fall from yours as he exited the hallway.

Howzer could now admit that he was entirely fascinated by you. To him, you gave the air of such importance, especially as you were only an aide. Aside from that, you were unlike any of the other senate members he had had the misfortune of crossing. The difference being that you actually seemed pleasant to be around.

He took the route towards Cham’s office, and he had to suppress the grin that threatened to take over his face. He didn’t exactly know what he was grinning about, but he felt anything that could draw such a reaction from him in the troubling times he inhabited surely couldn’t be a bad thing.

The next few days passed in a blur of tedious meetings and rising tensions, and Howzer just kept his head down, staying out of everything. It was a welcome respite from the all-out conflict against the separatists, but he still couldn’t help but find it exceptionally dull.

As he had hoped, he had crossed paths with you reasonably often. He came to realise that you didn't speak an awful lot, or that you only spoke when you had something notable to say. You were practically silent in senate discussions, though you had a seat at the table. It only made Howzer more intrigued and confused, since the other aides stood behind the Senator, whereas your place was beside him.

You were always engaged, though it was clear that you aimed to keep to yourself. A number of times he could see you holding back, and he came to recognise the tick in your jaw when someone said something you disapproved of. It was fascinating to watch you work. You were the only one that took notes in meetings, the only one that seemed entirely immersed, and yet, you said so few words.

He couldn't fully understand the way you went on, and it only made him think that there was more to you than met the eye. The way you carried yourself was something curious to him. You were elegance incarnate, unaffected by your heavy robes and gliding around almost as if you were a ghost, hauntingly beautiful.

The most thrilling thing of all was that you made sure to speak with him every time you passed him by. It was always a simple ‘good morning’ or ‘good afternoon’, but he couldn't ignore the way it sent a shiver running down his spine, especially as your words were always accompanied by an affectionate smile, your eyes sparkling.

He found you entirely charming, and even more so when he often saw you sat outside of an evening, under a tree that the barracks overlooked, a flimsibook in hand and stylus working furiously against it. He greatly desired to know what you were writing. The scene was like something from a painting, similar to the ones he'd seen in the more grandiose corners of the senate bureau; your robes fanned out around you at the bottom of a tall whiptree, your expression thoughtful as you scribbled words down onto the pages of the leatherbound book. The dying light hit your skin in a similar fashion as those brush strokes, a warm glow that made you look ethereal, as if you had been someone's muse.

Howzer had even caught himself leaning on the window ledge, watching you write, and then internally scolded himself when he realised what he was doing. It was entirely improper to be fawning over a senate official, he knew that. There was just something about you he couldn't quite figure out, and he was determined to know what it was.

It was around midday when Cham addressed the people of Ryloth, Orn Free Taa at his side, with a speech that he had been preparing for a number of days now. You hung back from him, standing beside Eleni, and Howzer found himself edging forwards so he was in earshot of your conversation. His ears perked up the sound of your laugh. It was something he hadn’t heard since your first encounter.

“I couldn’t say” you replied to whatever Eleni had asked, “ordinarily I don't accompany Senator Taa to meetings”

“Oh? How come”

Howzer watched the way your shoulders sagged as a sigh escaped you, “Truth be told, we don’t usually work so closely. I represent him in the senate when he’s… otherwise engaged”

“You’re a senate representative?” Eleni asked, her tone surprised, “I could have sworn the Senator introduced you as his aide”

“Yes, well…” you jaw ticked with indignance, your voice becoming hushed, “the Senator doesn’t really seem to understand the work I do in his stead”

“I see” Eleni matched your quiet tone, “Though… if you represent him in his absence, why are you here on Ryloth? Shouldn't you have remained on Coruscant”

You didn't answer for a moment, and Howzer tried to gauge your thoughts. You gave nothing away, as always. His eyes followed the movement of your arms as you slotted your hands together behind your back, disappearing beneath your robes. It was clear that whatever you were about to divulge was not for the ears of everyone, so you must have trusted Eleni more than he realised.

“The Emperor saw fit to… relocate me” you admitted.

Howzer's eyebrows raised in surprise.

“The Emperor?” Eleni asked, her tone incredulous, “why does the Emperor want you here?”

You swallowed, glancing behind you, and Howzer averted his eyes as to not get caught listening in.

“I think it was more about me not being on Coruscant” you said lowly, your voice dripping with unease, though carefully measured.

Howzer was alarmed. What did you mean? What possible reason could the Emperor have for getting rid of you?

In any case, Eleni's own questions died on her lips as the Senator and her husband returned from the front of the room. Orn Free Taa addressed you, your name sharp on his tongue as he instructed you to accompany him to his office without so much as looking in your direction. You nodded and said a courteous goodbye to Eleni as you turned to follow him with Cham on your heels.

Your eyes flicked towards Howzer as you passed by him, and you gave a warm smile. There was a certain glint in your eyes, a small flicker of repressed amusement that didn't go unnoticed by him. He gave you a respectful nod, taking his place one step behind Cham as the four of you walked towards the Senator's office.

The session that followed was hard to sit through. It felt like a mutiny against Cham, whilst dancing around the fact that that's what was going on. The bureaucrats that had travelled from Coruscant rallied behind whatever the Senator was saying, and Howzer could feel his own anger and irritation bubbling up on Cham's behalf.

As if that wasn't enough, the session ran late, and the sun began to set as the heated discussion continued. Howzer kept half an eye on you, and though you stayed quiet, he could see the way your jaw was set. He felt that if you tensed it any harder then it would snap. He couldn't help but wonder why you wouldn't speak up if you so clearly didn't agree, and especially now knowing that you had more authority than most of the people in the room.

By the time some form of conclusion had been reached, the sun had fully sunk beneath the horizon. The senate members filed out of the room, but he saw you pull Cham aside. You spoke in a soft voice, and he couldn't hear what was being said, but the deep crease in your brow gave away the seriousness of your words. Cham nodded along, and then sighed, replying with a comforting hand on your shoulder. Howzer stood at attention until it was just you three left, and gripped his helmet a little tighter when your gaze wandered his way. You straightened, stepping back from the other Twi'lek with a gracious smile.

“Well, anyway, I should be getting back to my residence” you said, your voice raised from the hushed tone.

“Of course” Cham gestured to the exit, “Though, I would ask you to take extra caution, with it being darker than usual”

“I will” you nodded, making your way over to where Howzer was stationed at the door.

“Ah” Cham said suddenly, his eyes landing on the clone, “you know Captain Howzer, correct?”

Your eyebrows raised slightly as your eyes moved from the Twi’lek and over to Howzer, and he kept his expression as neutral as possible, despite being cautiously optimistic about your reaction.

“I do” you smiled at him, the slight tip of your head as you added, “Captain”

The inflection made it difficult for Howzer to keep a straight face, but he managed to supress his smirk nonetheless.

“Howzer, if you could escort the our guest here home, I would be very grateful” Cham addressed him.

“Certainly, sir” Howzer obliged, and followed the pair out of the room.

“Perhaps we can continue our conversation tomorrow?” You suggested to Cham as you descended the stairs, your voice airy and light, feigning innocence to anyone listening in.

“Yes, I was thinking the same thing” Cham replied, a glance in your direction that was not as subtle as your calculated demeanour.

Howzer trailed behind, keeping his distance and standing by the large doors while you said your goodbyes. You turned back towards him as Cham's receding footsteps rang out in the grand entrance hall, a tired smile gracing your lips.

“Shall we?” you asked, and Howzer promptly opened up the door, escorting you outside.

The air outside was cool, a light breeze gently rustling and scattering leaves along the stone floor of the town square. The feint scent of lavender hung in the air, and despite the amount of people moving about, civilians and clones alike, it felt still, calm.

“I didn't realise you were a Captain” you commented, looking up at him with a wry smile curving your lips.

Howzer couldn't hold back his smirk any longer, “I suppose we were both downplaying our roles then”

A soft laugh escaped you, and you shook your head at him, “I knew you were listening to that”

He shrugged, not sure what else to say for himself. He knew it wasn’t necessarily appropriate to be listening in on private conversations, no less private conversations that concerned the senate, but your expression told him you didn't mind all that much.

“So what do you usually do on Coruscant then?” he asked, taking his helmet in his other hand so he could inch marginally closer and hear you clearer.

You took a breath before you spoke, “for the most part, I attended senate sessions in his stead”

“How often did he have you doing that?” he questioned, lifting the branch of a tree as you passed underneath.

“Well…” you began, looking back ahead of you, “if I'm being honest, probably nine times out of ten”

Howzer's eyebrows raised, “you're essentially a Senator then”

You shook your head, a pessimistic chuckle leaving your lips, “whatever I was, it doesn't matter anymore”

Howzer knew when to keep quiet, and with the way your mask of stoicism swiftly covered your features again, he held his tongue. He had endless questions he wanted to ask you, and it took everything within him to keep his mouth shut.

Soon enough, you stopped outside a dwelling, a ground floor apartment with very little affluence to its outward appearance. If he had passed it by on his own, he never would have thought it belonged to a Senator, as he was now coming to think of you as.

“Thank you for the escort, Captain” you smiled up at him, “it seems I'm making a habit of dragging you around”

Howzer chuckled, especially as it didn’t seem like you were all that sorry about it, “I don't mind, I couldn't say it's really an inconvenience”

“I'm glad” you replied with a simper that set something alive inside of him.

He observed you for a moment. You were a little shorter than him, but your presence dwarfed him all the same, and he could feel the tips of his ears burning at your steady gaze. For all that you lived in Orn Free Taa's shadow, more literally than figuratively, you seemed exceptionally sure of yourself. It was a quiet confidence, where your imposing nature came from rationality and restraint, rather than in seeking unabashed dominance, like some other politicians. If you'd been raised in a different setting, he thought that you'd make a good soldier because of it.

“Well, thank you again” you spoke a little quieter, your hand raising to the control panel beside the door.

Howzer gave you a polite nod as he stepped back, “anytime”

You shortly disappeared behind the door, and Howzer turned to make his way to the barracks for the night. He rolled his neck, feeling the soreness that lingered there after a full day of keeping at attention.

His body still wasn't used to standing around all day, and neither was his mind, despite the fact that he felt he should be at peace. It was odd, really. He was in his element when in battle, and without it, he didn't know that he'd ever truly feel like himself again.

The following week passed without much consequence, but the mounting pressure was beginning to feel stifling.

Howzer had been stuck inside all morning with Cham, going over and rethinking the defence of the refinery just outside the city. It wasn't entirely clear to Howzer why it was so pertinent to guard the refinery so closely, but he wasn't in the mood for asking questions anymore. It was more for the fear of the answers he would get, especially from the Empire.

Finally, Cham dismissed him for lunch, and as it was far later than his usual lunch hour, he allowed him to take the rest of the day off as well. Howzer fully intended to join him again after he had replenished himself, but those plans were scrapped when he walked into the mess hall and saw you sitting in the back corner.

You looked so out of place. Your luxurious navy robe and silver jewellery only made you more noticeable, not to mention your pale lilac skin and lekku, but you were also the only other person in the room. You looked forlorn, and more outwardly emotional than he had ever seen you before. Your chin rested in your hand, your gaze fixed out of the window, and your lips were turned down in a frown.

Howzer called your name as he approached the table, and you whipped your head over to him, evidently having been lost in your thoughts. You gave him your best attempt at a smile, “Captain, how are you?”

Howzer brushed past the question, barely even registering it as he took the seat opposite you, “what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be with the Senator?”

“Ah, yes. Well…” you trailed off for a moment, your eyes wandering back outside, “he dismissed me for the rest of the day”

Howzer frowned, “why? isn't that a good thing?”

You let out a humourless laugh, and your shoulders slumped in defeat. “He doesn't like when people speak out against him” you shrugged with a nonchalance that Howzer didn't quite believe, “I should know better really”

You hid your affliction well, but for Howzer, who had grown accustomed to your usual impassive expression, it was obvious that you were upset.

“What are you doing in here?” he asked, lowering his voice to what he hoped was a comforting tone.

“I didn't want to be around the other aides” you said, then glanced back at him with one side of your lips quirked up, “and I thought no one would be in here at this time”

Howzer huffed a laugh, “I'm sorry for disturbing you then”

“Don’t be” you smiled, genuinely this time, “I'm not”

Howzer’s eyebrows raised instinctively, a little taken aback by your candour. He supposed that you had never been anything but honest, so it shouldn't surprise him that much. You had withheld things, even obviously so, but you had never not made your opinion known when speaking truthfully.

“As it happens” he began, watching your reaction carefully, “I have the rest of the day off as well”

Your head tilted, almost imperceptibly, and you raised an eyebrow, encouraging him to go on.

“I could keep you company, if you'd like” he suggested.

Your lips lifted at his words, “I'd like that”

“Alright then…” Howzer smiled, looking out the window and then back to you, “have you eaten yet?”

You shook your head.

Howzer stood from his seat, “Let's go then”

Your eyebrows raised as you followed suit, stepping out of the bench and readjusting your robes, “let's go where?”

“I know a place” he shrugged, struggling to hold back his grin at your cautious expression.

You rolled your eyes in a playful manner as you fell into step beside him, “I didn't take you as one for clichés, Captain”

“Sorry” Howzer chuckled as he held open the door to the corridor, “it'll be worth it, I promise”

“Alright” you conceded with the ghost of a smirk crossing your face.

Soon enough the two of you were making your way through the marketplace, vendors and civilians alike milling about around you. There was a sense of joy in this area of the city that Howzer rarely got to see, an innocence, as if the war had never even happened. Children played together, chasing after each other while their parents watched on with bright smiles, eyes full of love.

“This way” Howzer said, gently guiding you down a side street, his hand accidently brushing your lower back as he placed a protective arm around you body to shield you from the hustle and bustle.

“You don't need to do that, Captain” you told him, “I'm not made of glass”

“Sorry, just doing my job” he insisted.

“By bringing me to some secret lunch spot?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

Howzer huffed a laugh and his hand instinctively curled around the back of his neck, “I— uh, perhaps not”

“I’m just teasing” you smiled, “I don't expect you to do your job while you're not on duty”

“Then perhaps you can stop calling me Captain” he suggested, his heart beating a little faster, hoping you wouldn't see the request as improper.

Thankfully, you let out a small chuckle, “I suppose that makes sense”

Shortly, you came upon a stand that smelled divine, and the vendor's eyes shone as she saw Howzer approaching.

“Captain” she beamed, “it's been too long”

“It has” Howzer smiled back politely, “we'll just get two of the regular”

“Of course” the Twi'lek then cast her eyes to you, sweeping her gaze down your regal attire, “who's this?”

Howzer was going to answer, but you beat him to it, giving your name, and nothing else. He raised an eyebrow at you, wondering why you were so adverse to admit your importance, but you just glanced at him and subtly shook your head.

“Well, it's a pleasure” the vendor smiled, eyes darting between the two of you “never known the Captain here to bring anyone else with him”

“Is that so?” you asked, a wry smile curling your lips as you tilted your head to him.

Howzer could feel himself blushing, his cheeks burning as he looked down, “yeah, I guess not”

“Sorry Captain” the vendor chuckled, handing over two small boxes of food, “that'll be 15 credits”

Howzer busied himself with digging through the pouches in his belt, and pulling out the credits to hand over. Before the vendor could take them, you placed your hand on his arm to stop him.

“Please, let me” you insisted, pulling out your own credits from your pocket.

Howzer said your name in an aporetic tone, “you can't expect me to let you pay when I'm the one who brought you here”

“That's exactly what I expect” you spared him a glance as you counted your credits, and you looked startlingly serious.

“No” he shook his head, trying to hand over the credits again, “I won't let you”

You grabbed his arm and this time tugged it down, your gaze stern, “you will”

Howzer was more than a little confused by your actions, but he wasn't going to refuse what felt eerily like an order. A force of habit, perhaps, but the look in your eye was something fierce that he didn't want to be on the receiving end of again.

He let you hand over the credits to the vendor, whose lips were twisted in an amused smirk, an eyebrow raised at him. He waved it off, and led the two of you away, throwing a thank you over his shoulder as you left.

“Sorry” you looked up at him with more bashfulness than he’d ever seen from you, “I didn't mean to be rude”

“Don't worry about it” he smiled reassuringly, choosing not to dwell on it too much.

You mirrored his gesture back to him and then looked towards where he was leading you.

“So” you began, “where are you taking me now?”

Howzer's lips twitched with a smirk, “I told you, I know a place”

A genuine laugh escaped you, and Howzer's heart sang at the sound, “you're really talking it up”

“Trust me, it's worth the mystery” he claimed.

“Alright” you smiled with a light shake of your head, “I'll trust you”

Howzer led you out of the city, the streets becoming increasingly empty as you strolled, and the cheerful cries of children playing were exchanged for birdsong. The edge of the city gave way to a forest, tall whiptrees casting spindly shadows onto the outer buildings and scattering the floor with leaves.

As you made your way between the trees, you lifted the hem of your robes, an instinctual move on your part, but Howzer could only think about how graceful the action was. Your head was angled towards the ground, taking in the way the afternoon sun shone through the leaves and spread shadows across the forest floor.

Before long, the forest path opened up and you came upon a lake, the water a deep blue colour and glittering as it gently swayed in the breeze. Half of it was cast in shadow as a part of the cliff face above jutted out and hung over the body of water. Your eyes were full of wonder looking upon it, and he couldn’t take his own eyes away from your awe-struck expression.

“This is…” you failed to complete your sentence as you looked up at him with a wide grin, something of childlike wonder and pleasant surprise.

“It’s nice, right?” he said, taking a seat on a soft patch of grass by the side of the lake, gesturing for you to do the same.

“Yeah, you weren’t kidding” you laughed, your eyes dancing with amusement as you took your seat across from him, “this is some place you know”

Howzer allowed himself a smug look, a shrug to soften it, “told you”

He passed your food over, and popped the lid from his as you did the same. You inhaled through your nose, taking in the sweet yet spicy scent of the meal, and his lips lifted as you looked pleased by it. You both dug in using the utensil provided, and Howzer felt his shoulders relax as you let out a contented noise, your eyes closing for a moment to savour the taste.

“Good?” he prompted.

“Very” you nodded, opening your eyes, “you sure know how to spoil a girl”

Howzer could feel his cheeks burning as he chuckled and turned his attention down to his food. Your wry smile and the teasing glint in your eye was frankly too much for him to deal with if he wanted to maintain an air of professionalism, so he kept his head down for the remainder of the meal. It wasn't hard, the food was delicious after all.

“Howzer” your voice called to him, using his given name for the first time, “can I ask you something?”

“Of course” he said, placing his empty box down next to where you had left yours and giving you all of his attention again.

“Why is it that you're stationed in the senate bureau? If you're a Captain, I would have thought you might be elsewhere” you clarified.

“Oh” he looked past you for a moment, searching for the right words, “well, now that the war is over, I don't serve the same purpose. Cham trusts me, I suppose — we work well together, so for the time being, I'm stationed with him”

You nodded as he spoke, taking a moment to understand the information before you spoke up again. It was the very practiced act of a politician, and Howzer noted the concentration in your eyes that he only usually saw in meetings.

“Cham isn't a fan of the Senator, is he?”

Howzer hesitated, giving you a dubious look.

“I'm just curious, I'm not going to speak of it with anyone else” you assured him, and he relaxed a touch.

“No, we're not big fans of him, really” he admitted.

Your lips curled into a smirk instantly, “we?”

Howzer realised his slip up, a nervous laugh escaping him, “uh— yeah, I'm not a fan of politicians in general I suppose”

This time your eyebrow raised, and Howzer realised the error of his ways before you even spoke.

“I mean— no, I didn't mean it like that—” he tried to explain himself.

“Relax” you laughed, interrupting his ramblings with a hand over his forearm, “I don't like them either”

The weight of your hand delicately placed over his vambrace was surprising, but that's not what made Howzer raise his brows.

“Why not? You work with them”

“Exactly” you huffed, drawing back from him.

He watched on as you turned towards the lake and stretched out your legs, a brown pair of boots emerging from beneath your robes. They looked out of place poking out from the rich navy material, oddly comfortable among all the opulence. He supposed that they weren't usually visible, and it felt like a strange look into your psyche, who you were beneath all of the political propriety.

“It's odd, being back on Ryloth” you mused quietly, you eyes trailing the cliff which hung over the lake, leaning back on your palms.

“How so?” Howzer asked, slumping forward to rest his elbows on his knees.

“Well, I'm not from around here. It's like being home, but not really” you paused, tilting your head a little “and I suppose I'm more used to being on Coruscant now.” A small crease formed in your brow as you continued to speak candidly, “I've just— I've been so busy, for years, and now… well, I'm back to being a shadow”

Howzer frowned, “you want to be… important?”

“No” you said straight away, shaking your head, “I don't need to be important, I just want to be useful”

Howzer heard how defeated you sounded, but he saw it even more in the look on your face. Your mouth turned downwards in a frown and your eyes flicked towards your feet as you kicked your heel into the ground. He called your name gently, and your head snapped over to him.

“Why did the Emperor send you away?”

You sighed as you turned your body towards him again, you legs curled up beside you, “I can't know for sure, but… it's most likely because I was too vocal”

“Vocal?” Howzer asked in surprise. You were so quiet in the sessions he had attended that it seemed out of the question.

You chuckled, “yes, even when he was the Supreme Chancellor, he didn't like that I was one of very few who actually called for change within the senate”

“What kind of change?”

“It was things such as… improved spending policy, advocating for clone rights, fair distribution of relief supplies among—”

“Clone rights?” he interrupted, “what do you mean?”

“Well, I'm sure you're well aware that the clone army aren't recognised within the senate, you're—” you paused, “you're property, for want of a better term, to the Republic, and now the Empire. You don't get a choice in whether you serve or not, and you're not paid for it, it's essentially slave labour”

Howzer didn't know how to feel about it being put so bluntly. They were things he'd considered before, especially since the birth of the Empire, but to hear it so concisely described, it put a nasty feeling in the pit of his stomach.

“Sorry, I didn't mean to—”

“No, you’re right” he said, dragging his eyes away from you.

“But that's why it's important; a bill put forward against it would seek to give you the option to serve, and a wage should you choose to”

“Do you think it would pass?” he asked.

The sigh that left your lips gave him his answer, “truthfully, I don't know. There's a lot of vile people in this galaxy, people who would see to it that you aren't given what you're owed”

“And what am I owed?” Howzer questioned, a hint of mirth in his voice.

“To be treated like a person” you said simply.

Howzer was taken aback by how easily your mouth formed those words. He had no idea that there were a number of people in the senate that were advocating for him and his brothers, but the fact that you were one of them made his head spin. It just made him respect you more, a newfound reverence for you washing over him.

“I've kind of always operated under the belief that you've just got to do what you can, but the things within my reach have significantly decreased, and now… I don't know whether a bill like that would pass under the Empire, if it was contested when we were still a Republic”

Howzer nodded. He could understand that reasoning, however bleak it was.

“Is this why you wouldn't let me pay for the food earlier?” he then asked, one side of his lips curling up.

You chuckled slightly, looking down to the grass that you both sat upon, “Yeah, it was”

An unfamiliar warmth spread throughout Howzer’s chest, spilling throughout his veins and begging to reach out and tip your head back up to look at him.

“I probably shouldn’t have told you all that” you murmured, looking up at him through your lashes with a particularly sheepish expression which he couldn't help but find extremely endearing.

He offered you a smile, “your secrets are safe with me”

You returned the kind expression and sat up straight, a thoughtfulness about you that stoked the warmth inside of him.

“You're a good man, Howzer” you told him, eyes shining with something vulnerable, “you've been nothing but kind to me ever since I got here, and I just have to thank you for that”

Every word you spoke only sought to make him more enamoured by you, and he could feel the way a violent blush was creeping up the back of his neck, threatening to take over his face.

“You don't need to thank me” he replied, “you've made it very easy”

taglist: @darthnihila @cdblake1565 @heidnspeak @mae-lou-ron

[shannonsketches]

He said "Fuck this shit, I'm out" I'm crying. Toriyama's Vegeta was so top shelf 🤌

(From Neko Majin Z Chapter 5!)

[boxwinebaddie]

so i have...a deranged style concept:

quick to anger ( and even faster on the track ;) xx ), snotty, haughty, 'in your dreams, in my beams', 'if you're hungry, you can eat my dust', need4speed demon and world famous nas-t boi nascar racecar driver kyle broflovski ( think lightning mcqueen but meaner and greener )

ft. a super cute, awkward, down to earth, ( under the hood, ig ) armed and dangerous ( but only with his stanley drill, dorky yellow safety goggles and that million killawatt smile <3 ) lead pit crew mechanic stan from small town hick nowhere and his heart on his tattoo sleeve,

re: this picture on my pinterest that cured me of all illness.

( i have a lot to say about this, but i decided to be normal and wait until someone asks me about it before banshee-screaming at y'all )

[politemagic]

slasher iii & slasher iv

oh geez oh boy oh god here it is. i had to strangle this thing out of my brain and she came out kicking and screaming. unedited, just some fun slasher iii & slasher iv content on this saturday evening. this is... something

there's a good bit of triggers in here, please proceed with caution.

1.15k words

The two of them are just hardcore horror fans, right? They've seen all the classics a million times but as they're getting older it's just not enough. III is the first one to suggest it as he turns off the television after watching the newest horror box office flop. At first, IV thought it was a joke. An outlandish suggestion to throw him off his game. That was the kind of jokester that III was. But there was no humor in his voice when he said in a sinisterly quiet voice.

"We could just do that shit ourselves."

The thought caused excitement to pulse through IV's veins as III laid out the details of his fantasy. It was almost too perfect, he thought. Their calculus professor was a piece of shit who was always too hard on the class, so he made an obvious target. He had no family, which further eased IV's conscience. They'd be doing the world a favor.

It was an experience unlike anything he'd ever experienced before, the thrill of watching the light wink out of his horrified eyes as he clawed at the masks covering their faces, watching the fight leave his body as he fell limp to the floor. He found he didn't quite mind the feeling of his blood soaked jeans clinging to his legs.

III had done most of the dirty work, but who was IV to deprive him of the joy he received from plunging the knife into his victim's stomach? They tidied. up after themselves enough to erase their presence, and waited for someone to find him.

The discovery of the beloved professor’s body the next day came as a shock to the whole community, leaving the town a worried mess. Things only got worse as III and IV selected their next target. She was a young woman, engaged to be married, known for babysitting just about every kid in town– the two of them included. IV’s stomach soured at the thought, but the grin on III’s face stirred his excitement enough to quell his conscience. 

“Don’t worry mate, she’ll be perfect.” He clapped his friend on the shoulder and pulled him into his pickup truck, the bed loaded with enough hunting knives to butcher a stampede.

And perfect she was. They managed to slip into the garage undetected, slinking through the darkened hallways towards the illumination and chatter of the television in the living room. She had nodded off on the couch, her head tilted back and nestled into the corner, surrounded by blankets and pillows. III gave him a silent nod and IV walked around behind her, wrapping an arm around her neck and clamping his hand over her mouth. Her eyes shot open in fear, panic overtaking her body as her eyes raked down every intimidating inch of III as he knelt in front of her, sliding a knife out of his boot. 

IV could feel her gnashing at the flesh of his palm, and simply pressed the crook of his elbow further into her jugular. He could feel her resolve dwindling as she thrashed against his hold, trying to shove III’s towering figure away from her. But III only laughed and swatted away her comparatively small hands as he began tracing the tip of his blade up her pajama clad leg, the twinkle in his eye indicated to IV that he was thoroughly enjoying the muffled whimpers coming from behind IV’s hand, relishing in the way that her body lurched away from him.

When IV felt his hand dampening from her tears, he audibly groaned, looking down to see her beautiful eyes squeezed shut, tears running down her cheeks. If his mask wasn’t covering his mouth he would have leaned down and licked those tears off of her perfect skin himself. But instead, he managed to catch III’s attention, nodding down to her streaming tears and III laughed evilly.

He leaned over her, wiping her tears away with his thumbs, gently caressing her cheeks as he did so, despite IV’s hands covering most of her face. 

“Hey, no use for that,” III cooed. “No point of doing that at all, love.”

Her eyes opened, a bone-chilling fear shooting through her body as she saw the murderous glint in III’s eyes. The tears flowed faster, and as she tried again to break free III restrained her arms with ease, resting his body weight on top of her as he brought his knife up to her line of sight again. 

“We’re going to have a lovely time, the three of us.”

She screamed from behind IV’s hand, making one last attempt to bite at him and managed to find purchase on the meat of his palm, causing him to yelp. She sank her teeth in until she could taste his blood on her tongue, but she found his grip only tightened. When she dared a glance above her, she could see his eyes shut, breathing labored, but when he looked down at her, she realized what a mistake she had made. 

A mixture of her tears and IV’s blood dripped from her chin, and the sight sent a shockwave of excitement through III’s body. He was ecstatic to have a partner in all this, to get to experience his wildest fantasies with his best friend. To share this new side of him with his best friend. 

“Now for the fun part.” He whispered, more to IV than to her, but the words caused her heart to sink, she felt the resolve fly from her body– there was no salvation for her. The coppery tang of his blood on her tongue that had once tasted like victory now tasted of defeat. Not only would she die at their hands, she would die with their repulsive presence invading her every sense.

III felt the familiar rush of euphoria as the blade pierced through her belly, her muffled scream like a favorite song heard on the radio. He didn’t miss the way IV’s hip pressed slightly into the couch, spreading a wide grin across his lips.

This would be the fun part, indeed.

Hours later, III laid down in his bed, resting an arm behind his head as he replayed the events of the day, that same grin still plastered on his face. He felt his eyes drifting closed, sleep ready to take his body when he heard the sound of his phone vibrating on his nightstand. His heart leaped at the sight of your name, and your sweet message.

i guess you turned in early tonight. sweet dreams, i love you <3

As he laid back down, his eyes falling shut one more time, his mind conjured up the most beautiful plan for you. 

A special surprise.

[perenlop]

i'm not exactly innocent of this and i am not defending her at all as a person, but sometimes when people criticize l!ly 0rchard, i can't help but side eye a liiiittle bit when they nitpick EVERYTHING about her writing... including stuff that i knowwww the average person wouldn't criticize a cis and/or male writer for doing.

and it bugs me more that you cant point that out without people going "omg its not transmisogynistic to criticize a bad youtuber!! look, we don't misgender her, dont we get a medal for that?"

[ilovedthestars]

here's the thing. yes, some pieces of art are "better" than others. there are many criteria you can measure that with--technical skill, creativity, clarity, conceptual depth, successful execution of the artist's intentions, etc., and i do think it's useful to clarify which ones you're using as a measuring stick. but like, of course you can evaluate art. of course you can be critical (in the "art critic" sense) of art. (among other things, that's one of the most important ways to get better at making art yourself.)

however. when it comes down to evaluating what gets to count as art. what art even gets to have a seat at the table. i will go to bat for the thing that isn't as "good" every single time.

you can say you think a piece of art is bad. you can say you think it lacked technical skill, or clarity, or conceptual depth, and you consider those important elements of a successful work. i might even agree with you. but if you think that means it doesn't matter, someone is going to die on this hill and it isn't going to be me

[iiboronii]

One time in eighth grade my civics teacher said "you become good at the thing you do every day" and I've never been the same since.

[im-an-anthusiast]

Ditches and Spiders

God, his forearms ITCHED.  Ugh – they sang a horrible siren song, to which the only answer was the raking of claws, the bloody contact of skin and nails. Or whatever. He clenched his fists, twisting them, rolling his wrists, and watching the taut, lean, yet somewhat gaunt muscle flexing under his scarred skin. Calixte hated the scars so, so much. They weren’t ugly, contorting, or shredding, and they weren’t spirals of thorns or carved spines. They were “beautiful”, twisting, mending – spirals of petals and curving stems. Calixte always hated the mix of lily flowers curling up his arms in a monotone white of scar tissue. They made him sick. His entire lunch – half of a white chocolate granola bar – tickled the very top of his throat, acidically ghosting over the roof of his mouth. He ought to practice Magic again.  

He applied the Sepal Balsam. Almost half the container coated his forearms thickly, massively surmounting the blood below it. Was that... wait... quadruple- no, pentuple the recommended dose? Perhaps that was why he could feel his pain fade into such intense numbness so quickly that in mere seconds he could not feel his forearms at all – and could, in real-time, watch the open wounds, cuts, gashes, and lacerations riddling his forearms and climbing up his bicep close, and twist at themselves, forming sickeningly intricate floral shapes, layering onto those already there. What a disgusting toll he has to pay, really. And, sure, he could always not push himself so much or just wait for himself to heal, but how would he get better, then? The best around don’t just rest. No pain, no gain, after all! He just has to push himself a little harder, surely...! 

The gloves contracted around his arms. They squeezed and cried at the Magic pouring into them, pushing and lashing at his flesh. The gloves wrung his arms, and blood dripped out from their hems at his biceps. All for... him.  

The bouquet strained in his arms. The paper tore open at the pressure pushed into it, flowers spilling around his flesh. Ditch and spider lilies both wrapped around his forearms, slipping from his embrace one by one. All from... him.  

“Are you proud, dad?”