#because to get hired at writing

[werewolves-are-real]

Debating writing more original fiction and trying to monetize, because my rent is now 2k a month (for a 1 bedroom apartment!! kill me) and also I am constantly plagued by existential dread.

But what's the best way to do that? Starting an email list/blog? (requires constantly Socializing - I am terrible at this). Commissions? (Doable, but then I can't use the stories for anything in the future - could regret it). Trying to publish through conventional lit magazines? (incredibly slow, + you have to get every piece actually accepted, which means little money). Self-publishing through Amazon? (Terrifying, seems risky, they have convoluted policies that steal money from authors etc etc)

This is why I like fanfic, I can write and throw things into the void and that's it. Ugh.

[clarionglass]

here we go :) part one of three, updates to be released weekly!

---

sam says 4 (game master cinematic universe, part 3)

Ruby was at her mum's for a family dinner she couldn't miss on pain of death, apparently, and the Doctor was many things, but a family dinner kind of guy wasn't one of them—particularly when Carla had already slapped him once in the short time he'd known her. He thought he'd broken his streak of bad luck with mums, but… well, seemingly not. So he was companionless for a few hours, and while he could wait for her to get back, maybe catch up on his reading—what was the point of waiting when you had a time machine? 

He ran his hands over the TARDIS console, marvelling at her clean lines and metallic flourishes, the way that even now she felt brand new but familiar, and paused. He’d just pop off for a quick adventure, nothing too dangerous, but—where to go?

He could scan for a distress call nearby, and pitch in to help. He could drop in on Donna and Shaun and Rose, beautiful Rose, and see how they were all doing. Or he could just hit the randomiser button, and jump in feet first wherever he ended up.

He remembered a conversation from a long time ago, when he wore a different face, and his gorgeous TARDIS wore a face too, for the first and only time.

“You didn't always take me where I wanted to go.”

“No, but I always took you where you needed to go.”

He grinned. Who could resist an offer like that? He pressed the button and whooped as the time rotor spun into action, ready to see where the universe would take him.

---

Apparently, he was needed pretty close to where he already was. Earth, 2024. Huh. Same planet, same time—within a few months of where he’d left Ruby, even. The main thing that had changed was the location: he was now in the good old US of A. California, to be more specific, and Los Angeles to be more specific still. And to really narrow it down, the Doctor discovered as he poked his head out of the TARDIS doors, he was in… a broom closet. Not bad, as a parking spot—a bit squeezy, but out of the way. And as he poked his head out of that door, he could finally see he was in the backstage corridors of a studio of some kind. Film or TV, if he was to hazard a guess, it was a different vibe from Abbey Road.

With a shrug, he decided to go exploring.

It couldn’t have been more than a minute before a young woman wearing the full-black outfit, headset, and permanently stressed expression of a production assistant came running up to him.

“Are you the fill-in Sam organised?” she asked breathlessly, and honestly, seeing the look on her face, the Doctor didn’t have the heart(s) to tell her no. And really, what was the Doctor, if not a professional fill-in? This, this was why he had a randomiser button on the control panel, because whatever he was about to get himself into was going to be fun.

“Sure!”

“Oh, thank god,” sighed the production assistant, relief dawning across her face. “When Ally tested positive this morning, I thought we were sunk for the record, because we called around and we couldn’t get a hold of anyone. But then Sam said he could get someone in, and, you know, here you are, and just in time, so—ah, yeah, if you could follow me this way?”

Smiling all the way, the Doctor followed his guide through to hair and makeup, looking around as they went. The studio seemed to belong to a company called Dropout, according to the branding scattered around, and things seemed, at least on the surface, to be… well. Fine. He couldn't tell why he'd been brought here yet, which meant that when he found the reason, it was going to be particularly tangled. He couldn't wait! 

And then he looked back at his guide, still engulfed in a miasma of anxiety, and realised he'd been too busy looking for clues to notice the person right in front of him. 

“Hey, it's cool, you've found me,” he started with a gentle smile. “You can relax. Hi, I'm the Doctor. What's your name?”

“Oh!” she said, startled. “The Doctor, yeah, of course. Um, hi, I'm Kaylin. Look, sorry, it's just that I've been so busy this morning, I'm so distracted… Shit, and I would've completely forgotten to get your details too. There's paperwork to fill in, but you can do that later. Um, just for now, though, can I get your pronouns?”

The Doctor thought for a moment. “He/him, for now.”

Kaylin nodded, making a note on her phone. “Okay, cool! And do you have any socials?”

“Not me, babes,” he replied. “I'm hardly sitting down long enough to be able to update, you know?”

“On a day like this, I know exactly what you mean,” she said. “That's okay, Lou didn't have socials either for the longest time. Right, so if you go through there, the team will get you sorted, and once you're done, someone will take you up to the greenroom. All good?”

“All great,” the Doctor replied. Kaylin flashed him a quick, relieved smile, then hurried off.

Hair and makeup was a fairly quick process, the sound mixer fitted him with a microphone, and before too long, Kaylin was back to take him upstairs. 

“This is the greenroom,” she said, pushing the door open. “The rest of the cast for the episode are already here—they’re great guys, and they’ve both been on the show a lot, so they’ll be able to help if you’ve got questions. And if you need anything else, just come find me or any of the other PAs, okay?”

The Doctor nodded, beamed at Kaylin, and walked in.

---

The greenroom was small but comfortable, and its occupants, two men around the same age as the Doctor appeared, looked up as he entered.

“Oh, you’re new,” the taller of the pair said, clearly giving him the once-over.

The other sighed with a mixture of fondness and exasperation, just as clearly used to his friend’s antics.

“Hey, I’m Brennan,” he said, levering himself up to standing from his perch on a chair arm, and holding out a hand. “That’s Grant.”

The Doctor took it warmly. “The Doctor. Just passing through, and happy to help.”

Grant’s eyebrows quirked. “Doctor… something?” he prompted.

“Or is it just ‘the Doctor’?” Brennan asked.

“Just ‘the Doctor’,” the Time Lord confirmed cheerfully. “You’ll get used to it, everyone does.”

Grant didn’t look convinced, but—

“Copy that,” Brennan shrugged, and settled back on the arm of the chair, returning his gaze to the door.

Grant, in turn, looked at the Doctor and rolled his eyes in a clear expression of ‘no, I don’t know why he’s like this, either’.

“Okay,” the Doctor said after a moment of watching the watching. “I wasn’t going to ask, but now I think I have to. What’s up with the door?”

Brennan huffed a laugh. “Well, the last time there was one of those up—” he pointed to the Out of Order sign stuck to the bathroom door, “—we got locked in here for the game.”

“He’s paranoid,” Grant interjected.

“Well, yeah, maybe,” Brennan retorted. “Or just cautious. Because Sam’s been acting weird lately, and we’re coming up to the last few records of the season, so he’s probably planning something way out of the box for the finale. And the original cast was you, me and Beardsley, so…”

He shrugged one shoulder meaningfully, and Grant nodded, conceding both the point and the potential for chaos.

“So if Sam comes in to give us the briefing, rather than waiting til we’re on set,” Brennan continued, “or there’s anything else weird going on, I’m gonna know about it right from the beginning.”

He turned to the Doctor. “The only reason I'm not quizzing you is because I know for a fact Beardsley was genuinely scheduled for this, so you can't be a plant by the production team. No offence.”

“None taken,” the Doctor smiled. “That sort of thing happen often, does it?”

Grant and Brennan exchanged a look. 

“More than you'd think,” Grant answered with a grimace. 

“Alright,” the Doctor said slowly, then brightened. “So what is it we're actually doing?”

Grant gave him a disbelieving glance. “You don't know—?”

“Very last minute fill-in,” the Doctor said breezily. “But don't worry, I'm a quick study.”

“Well, you're not that much worse off than the rest of us,” Brennan said encouragingly. “You know about Game Changer, obviously, if you know Sam, and we only find out the rules of the game once we get on set. Hopefully,” he added, with a dark look back at the Out of Order sign. 

The Doctor nodded. No, he didn't know Sam, and he didn't know Game Changer, but he could work out the situation from context clues. This was a game show. And with the Toymaker banished, and Satellite Five not coming into existence for another 198000 years, give or take, he found himself smiling. Maybe third time would be the charm. 

“Mmm, hopefully they aren't going to throw you in the deep end,” Grant said. “Because Brennan might seem lovely now, but as soon as we get out there, he's a whore for points. He'll stab you in the back and won't even blink.”

Brennan barked with laughter. “Yeah, and you wouldn't?”

“Excuse you, I'm always a goddamn delight,” Grant replied, the very picture of injured dignity. 

“Oh, absolutely!” agreed a new voice. The Doctor turned to the now-open door to see a bearded man in a pinstriped suit smiling broadly. “That's why we keep inviting you back!”

Grant bowed sarcastically. “Why, thank you, Sam. Good to know I'm appreciated by someone here.”

“Always,” Sam replied, gently but firmly ending that particular path of the conversation. He scanned the room, and his eyes lit up when they landed on the Doctor. 

“Ah, you must be the Doctor!” he said with obvious delight, walking over with his hand outstretched. “I'm Sam—thanks for filling in for us, you've made sure we're going to have a good show. Seriously, it's a pleasure to have you here.”

“Aw, cheers!” the Doctor smiled, shaking the offered hand. “Glad I could help out, I'm really looking forward to this!”

“Well, great!” Sam exclaimed, then took a step back, regarding all three players in turn. “Now, folks, I'm just letting you know that we're just about ready to start the record, so if you can start heading down, that'd be great.”

Grant and Brennan nodded—Brennan, the Doctor noticed, with relief. 

“See you down there,” Sam said, smiling. “Have a great show, and—”

His eyes caught on the Doctor's for a second, twinkling. 

“Good luck.”

---

Backstage, the Doctor, Brennan and Grant were marshalled into podium order and given a final briefing from the crew. And then, with a thumbs-up from Kaylin, that was it.

Showtime.

“Get ready for a Game Changer!” came Sam's voice from onstage. “Tonight’s guests: he can shoot off a monologue with laser accuracy; it’s Brennan Lee Mulligan!”

Brennan, his back to the camera as the curtains opened, spun on his heel and, with a stone-cold expression, pointed finger guns straight down the barrel, before letting the facade crack open. “Hi!” he exclaimed, and walked over to the leftmost podium.

“It’s his first appearance, but he’s already on fire; it’s the Doctor!”

The Doctor leant against the archway to the stage and flashed a broad smile towards the camera, then in a few skipping steps, had bounded over to the next free podium. What the hell, why not make an entrance?

“And even in the toughest of mazes, you’ll always be able to find him; it’s Grant O’Brien!”

Grant dipped his lanky frame into an approximation of a curtsey, spreading his arms wide, then sauntered over to the closest podium with a grin.

“And your host, me!” Sam announced, a ring of manic white showing around his irises as he beamed down the barrel of the camera. “I’ve been here the whole time!”

“This,” he continued, pushing his microphone shut and stowing it in his jacket pocket, “is Game Changer, the only game show where the game changes every show. I am your host, Sam Reich!” 

As he said his name, he looked at his hands, front and back, as if he was pleasantly surprised to be himself, then gestured towards the three podiums.

“I am joined today by these three lovely contestants! Now, you understand how the game works.”

“Of course not,” Grant started. “You know we don't.”

“We can't, Sam, that's the whole point of the theatre you've set up here,” Brennan said over him. 

“Not yet,” was all the Doctor said, anticipation starting to drum a tattoo of excitement against the inside of his ribcage. 

“That’s right!” Sam said brightly, shooting finger guns at the camera. “Our players have no idea what game it is they’re about to play. The only way to learn is by playing. The only way to win is by learning, and the only way to begin is by beginning! So without further ado, let’s begin by giving each of our players fifty points.”

The Doctor, biding his time, watched the reactions of his fellow contestants. Grant looked at the front of his podium, checking the point total, and nodding approvingly when he saw that yes, it was sitting at a round fifty. Brennan, on the other hand, was starting to frown.

“Players, Sam says: touch your nose,” Sam began, and Brennan sighed the sigh of someone who wasn’t happy to be proved right.

“Oh, no,” he groaned. “Oh, you son of a bitch. Wasn’t one this season enough?”

He touched his nose anyway, as did the others, and Sam smiled encouragingly. “Sam says: touch your ear.”

When they all did, Sam nodded. “Touch your other ear.”

Everybody held still, fingers on the ears they had originally touched.

Sam beamed. “Easy, players, right?”

“You say that now,” Brennan said darkly. “Which makes it worse, because all you're doing is setting us up for failure.”

Sam gasped, pretending offence. “Would I do that?”

“Yes,” Brennan and Grant replied in unison, which drew a grin from the Doctor and set Sam off chuckling.

“And I'm not having it,” Brennan continued, leaning his elbows against his podium and pointing at Sam with the hand not touching his ear. “You better watch yourself, because I know how this game works, and you're not going to get one over on me.”

“Strong words, Brennan!” Sam said, clearly delighted by this response. “Okay, then, let's start making things a bit more interesting!”

The game continued as per Sam Says usual, some rounds done as a group and some individual. Points were won, sure, but lost slightly more frequently, and even the Doctor found he was having to concentrate to avoid getting caught in the host's traps. 

It was fun. Genuinely, it was like playing a game with friends, and the Doctor felt himself leaning into it. There wasn't any sign of danger—maybe there wasn't a mystery to solve at all, and the TARDIS just decided he needed a total break. 

Well, probably not. But the way things were going, he was able to let himself hope. 

“Alright, players,” Sam said a good few rounds in, just as pleasantly as he would start any other question, and the screen behind him dinged as a new prompt popped up. “Survive the death beam.”

For a second, everything was frozen perfectly still. 

And then came the crash, the explosive noise of heavy machinery moving relentlessly through a drywall set.

The Doctor was already moving. “Everyone down!”

“Duck!” Brennan yelled at the same time.

The two of them hit the ground within milliseconds of each other, but Grant was still paralysed in the face of the giant, science-fiction type laser cannon that had just ploughed through the wall. 

It whined ominously, screaming its way to fever pitch. And then a sharp pain in Grant’s ankle made him stagger, pitching forwards onto the carpet behind the podiums as the Doctor rolled away to avoid getting pinned.

“Sorry, babes,” the Doctor whispered. “But it was either kick you to get you down, or—”

A hideous metallic screech ripped through the air, and all three of them could feel the crackle of ozone as a beam of energy swept across what had, moments ago, been neck height.

“…Or that,” the Doctor finished with a grimace.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Grant breathed, suddenly very conscious of every inch of his 6’9 frame. “Thanks.”

“Well done, players!” Sam exclaimed delightedly from above them. “But… sorry, I didn’t say ‘Sam says’, so that’s a point off for everyone.”

“What the fuck!” Brennan snapped.

“Are you actually insane?” Grant demanded at the same time, his voice overlapping with Brennan’s.

In response, Sam just wheezed with laughter. “You can come back to your podiums,” he said, cheerfully ignoring them.

Nobody moved.

“Very good!” he acknowledged, and even without seeing his face, the grin was obvious in his voice. “Okay, Sam says: come back to your podiums.”

Although the words were innocuous, and his tone was just as light and breezy as usual, there was nevertheless an edge hiding just underneath the surface. And while the death beam loomed large in the minds of all three players, it was impossible to consider disobedience as an option.

Slowly, they stood, returning to their places. Now they had the time to look at it properly, the death beam was even more sinister, and Brennan and Grant both kept flicking nervous glances its way, ready to move if it looked like it was charging up again.

The Doctor, however, was focused purely on the man standing in front of them. Unbothered, Sam met his gaze like a challenge, a mischievous smile playing about his lips.

“Oh, you’ll love this one,” he said, and the screen changed. “Sam says, starting with Grant: say my name.”

Grant frowned in confusion, but answered quickly nonetheless. “Sam Reich?”

The man himself shrugged tolerantly, moving on. “Brennan?”

Brennan just stared at him coolly. “Do you take me for a fool?”

“Well caught, Brennan!” Sam said happily. “Sam says: say my name.”

“Sam,” Brennan replied, suspicion clear in his voice. “Samuel Dalton Reich.”

He nodded, still with a hint of indifference. “And lastly, Doctor.” His smile broadened. “Sam says: say my name.”

It was easy. Too easy. And as the Doctor looked into the eyes of the man calling himself Sam Reich, he felt his hearts stutter in recognition, because something had changed. He wasn’t hiding himself anymore, and while the face was different yet again, the Doctor would know the shape of that soul anywhere. It was impossible. It was inevitable.

“You can’t be,” he breathed. 

Sam smirked, leaning in across his podium. “Oh, but Doctor… I’ve been here the whole time,” he stage-whispered with a wink.

“He said you lost,” the Doctor said, shaking his head, looking wrong-footed for the first time that Brennan and Grant could recall. “You lost, and he trapped you.”

The other two watched, uncomprehending, but Sam just smiled, drumming his fingers against the podium with an audible beat, fast but distinct. Four taps, four taps, four taps. “I’m waiting.”

The Doctor took a slow, deep breath. Set his jaw. 

“Master.”

---

missed an installment of the game master cinematic universe?

original idea by @ace-whovian-neuroscientist: x

art by @northernfireart concept: x scissor sisters sketch: x sam and his doppelganger: x

writing by me (!) part one (escape the greenroom): x part two (deja vu): x part three (sam says 4): you are here!

[mamanbou]

i joke about ociel thinking he's his dad's age a lot but like really he does. something so heartbreaking about the fact that whenever ciel references his own age it's like he's making an inside joke- dryly reminding the dinner party in book of murder that children have early bedtimes, for example. as if his age is a mere technicality, it's inaccurate on some level but is still a loophole he can exploit when convenient. Feigned innocence.

Because in kuro youth primarily functions as an axis of powerlessness. Ciel can't act his age or he's delegitimized. It's just another wall he's built between his persona and his actual self. To be Earl Ciel Phantomhive The Queen's Guard Dog he buries his age, his name, his illnesses........ idk it just always gets me that he isn't only borrowing from his brother, but his father as well. Anybody but himself. He really believes it, too, that any lie can become the truth with enough dedication and hard work.. He's so good at deluding himself. But he's not a grizzled 34 year old detective :( hes just a baby :(

[uniiiquehecrt]

Voice actors are NOT the same as actors.

It takes a specific kind of skill-set and training to be able to warp and meld the voice. It takes a certain kind of talent and dedication to hone that talent into the ability to meld the voice and invoke emotion with one's voice alone. Actors are used to using their voice secondarily to their body language and their facial expressions. It's all mirrored back on camera. They do have nuance. But it's a different kind of nuance and a different kind of training to produce that nuance.

Voice actors might get their likeness transposed on their character's design, and maybe their mannerisms might seep into the character's animation. But when it's all said and done: their presence is in their voice. They are bringing a character to life, showing that emotion in their voice, trying to keep a specific accent, drawl, pitch, tone in that voice and keep it consistent for their recording sessions.

The voice actor is like a classically trained musician who can play first chair in a competitive, world-renown orchestra. The actor (who fills the voice actor's role) is like a moot who played violin in beginner and intermediate high school orchestra and thinks they can get into Juilliard with that 2-4 years of experience.

This doesn't mean that the HS orchestra moot can't play. They can even be really good at it. Maybe they won competitions and sat first chair. But they are not in the same league as the person who's been training their whole lives and lives and breathes to hone their craft using the instrument and all of the training they've ever acquired to perfect it. They are not meant for the same roles. They are not in the same caliber. You do not hire the HS equivalent when you want to play complex music in a competitive orchestra.

Actors are not the same as voice actors.

And furthermore, actors - especially big name actors - taking the roles of animated characters for big budget films or TV pilots makes no sense anyways when - at least in the case of TV pilots - there's not a point to hiring a big budget actors anyways. That money could be used elsewhere (like paying your animators), and the talent that is brought onto the screen for X character could then be hired on to voice said character no recasting required.

I wouldn't say voice acting as a profession is in danger exactly, but it's certainly being disrespected and overlooked for celebrity clout, and this has ALWAYS been an issue. Shoot, even Robin Williams knew that much - which is why he tried so hard not to be used as a marketing chess piece for Aladdin and got royally pissed off when it happened anyways. People shouldn't go to any movie (but especially not animated films) because "oh famous actor is in it". People should go because it's a good movie and the voice acting is good.

People who honest to god think that voice actors are replaceable because "oh well anyone can voice act" or "I like xyz celebrity so naturally it'll be good" ... Honestly I just wish you'd reassess your priorities because you're missing the point and are part of the problem.

Voice Actors ≠ Actors.

[royalarchivist]

Pac: In a- in a far far away tower, there used to live a prince called Fit, waiting for someone to climb over the top and save him!

Fit: [Laughs]

Pac: Kinda like Shrek, you know? [Laughs]

Fit: That's right. I've been waiting!

[Context: They were talking about how Fit's "house" looked like a tower / water tower.]

[tryoncami]

Thomas and Martha Wayne had twins Danny and Bruce. Danny was stolen from the hospital by a grieving Maddie after her child was still born.

The only one who knows is Maddie. Jack was held up in a villain attack on his way to the hospital. Maddie met him at the entrance with the bundle and just leaves with a manic look in her eye and a death grip on the baby.

The couple left town with the kids because they wanted a safer place to raise their kids... not because Maddie became extra paranoid. No not at all.

Bonus:

Phantom is the ghost of Maddie's still born child. He haunts danny because he knows maddie is his mom and wants to know what it would be like to be taken care of and grow to adulthood. They got fused when the portal accident happened. That's why he is ridiculously powerful from the get go. He's a fresh ghost who has been fused with a teen ghost.

[leverage-ot3]

sorry to keep personal posting but my day fucking SUCKED and ended with me dropping one of my brand new earrings from a set that I just finished cleaning down the drain, took the sink apart and still couldn’t find it 🙃

if y’all feel like asking a leverage/misc question for thoughts or headcanons I’d love to answer them in the morning! or even if you just want to say something about your day- I just like hearing from you guys 💖

[icewindandboringhorror]

finally finished all of one character's entire quests/optional dialogue/questions/etc.... 100,000 words... .... aughhh

[blackgirlsuperherorants]

One more thing:

People keep saying that the live action has the same runtime (or similar runtime) as the animated series, but that is ignoring the way episode structure works in TV. It's not runtime, in TV.

Before we continue, my credentials are that I have an MFA in writing for film & television and I am a commissioned writer who has written TV episodes.

ATLA had 20 completed 30-minute episodes in season 1 (I know they were more like 20 minute, but in TV writing, people refer to series as 30 minute and 1 hour. A 30-minute usually has a 20-30 minute runtime, and a 1-hour usually has a 45-60 minute runtime. Sometimes, this is referred to as comedy [30] and drama[60], but that's falling out of style now that those runtimes are not as limited to those genres anymore).

Putting 2 full 30 minutes together doesn't make a properly structured 1-hour. 1-hour episodes have a completely different structure and still have to tell a full arc in their allotted time. 8 1-hour episodes is still 8 episodes, not a mashup of 20. That would be terrible TV structure, and trust me, it would've been a worse experience for the viewer.

You don't just... mash together all 20 episodes. You HAVE to mine the episodes for the most important story elements and use them to BUILD your story. If it was 20 1-hour episodes, there would be room to expand each of the original episodes. There just isn't in an 8 episode story. I don't know if what I'm saying will make sense to people who haven't written adaptations, but I can tell you that it makes no sense to think 8 1-hour episodes is the same amount of story space as 20 30-minute episodes. Each 1-hour episode has to tell a cohesive EPISODE of the story. It has to have a beginning, middle, and end. What's more likely to happen is what did happen, which is exploring moments that weren't in the og series and combining things from the og, while just keeping the plot of the original mostly intact. Honestly, the series had way more nods to the animated series than I expected.

Honestly, I wish they had 12 episodes instead of 8, because they could've let things marinate more... but yeah, I just need it to be understood that while the runtimes are similar, they're not actually equivalent.

(And y'all, I'm just rambling while I'm taking a break from writing a different project, which is driving me nuts, so if I sound ineloquent, my bad. I will clarify how the two are different in another post, if y'all want.)

[beevean]

A theory I've read more than once is that this one frame of Lenore entering Hector's cell for the second time is proof that she is not actually enjoying what she has to do:

The wiki describes it as such: "Lenore has a sad expression when entering the dungeon to visit Hector the second time."

Also this, from a comment I found:

Like for example when she goes to meet Hector the second time, you can see sadness on her face when she is walking alone in the dungeon, but as soon as she approaches Hector she puts on a smile. I.e. may be she already knew she had to use the ring at that point and felt bad about it but didn't want Hector to realize that. A lot of such small animation details really provide a glimpse into what the explicit writing was lacking.

(edit: turns out that they were the same person)

Okay.

First things first: I doubt she has the ring in mind already. It's hard to tell because Lenore pulls it out of her ass with zero foreshadowing whatsoever, but with the way it was framed, the ring was likely a direct response to Striga's idea of buying mercenaries to make Hector unnecessary, which comes later into the story: Lenore even uses the information she eavesdropped from Striga as a way to lie to Hector about her loyalty to the sisters. In theory it makes sense, because Hector needs to be reliable to be allowed to live, but the ring is... a very poor solution the more you think about it, even if you ignore how S4 neutered it, because it only addresses one of the many logistic problems that come with forcing Hector to make an army of Night Creatures, and it's not the dead bodies/living livestock paradox. And going with the story, it's unlikely Lenore was already thinking of raping the ring into Hector: why would the sisters be amazed at her plan if they were the ones suggesting her to speed up things? And if Lenore came up with it, why would she be remorseful at her own idea? Sure, Hector showed defiance during their first encounter, but did she have so little faith in her own manipulating skills that she already felt that she had no choice but to use her pussy, the only good weapon in a woman's disposal "brute force", after one understandable incident? Then why even bother interrogating him to understand his motivations and needs? Just skip straight to the sexual molestation to make him believe she likes him. As I pointed out, that interrogation was not for the sake of painting herself as particularly caring: she was collecting intel, intel that she wouldn't need if her plan was already tricking Hector into slavery via a magic ring.

Second: that expression honestly doesn't look sad to me. I would be willing to give the interpretation some credit, because she's looking downwards which can be a sign of sadness, but after that one frame, she switches to this expression:

Now she looks mildly pissy, like the idea of talking to Hector is just soooooo annoying, ugh. She even has the sassy cocked eyebrow lmao.

Of course that can't be it, so I propose the most obvious interpretation: she's serious and deep in thought. That is because their first encounter ended up disastrously: Hector assaulted Lenore with the intent of threatening her, which pissed her off, and she assaulted Hector by beating him to an inch of his life, which is not the best way to win a pet's trust. So she's most likely thinking the best way to approach him again.

And I'll even praise a small detail: the first time Lenore fed Hector, she made him crawl towards her to eat from her hand. The second time, however, she tosses an apple to his feet. Both gestures are demeaning, but after that incident she seems to be more cautious towards him - shown as well by her insistence that he is so dangerous that, well, she has no choice but to put a leash on him like a dog. I'm honestly surprised that her final solution is stupid as fuck when she can be intelligent when she wants to. real reason she's hector's soulmate: both of them have braincells like christmas tree lights :V

Third: oh, do you want to talk about explicit writing?

These are not freeze frame bonuses. The scene lingers on this expression on Lenore's face as Hector is screaming in pain over the ring she put on him.

So, you're willing to believe Lenore didn't want to use the ring but felt forced to because in one frame she has an expression that mildly looks displeased... but somehow you ignore this blatantly sadistic reaction? This screams, at the very least, "haha, sucker, I've won"; but add to this that Hector is visibly and audibly in pain, shocked and scared at the curse overtaking his body during a vulnerable moment...

This ties well with how she beat Hector to a pulp not just out of self-defense, but because she wanted to feel strong and powerful when surrounded by people who underestimate her - the writing might imply that she was offended that Hector too saw her as vulnerable and stupid, but she was explicitly laughing and mocking him while showing off her strength (a strength she doesn't display when, say, Isaac enters her cage: he easily intimidates her). You might read the implication that Lenore spoke about Hector so disgustingly to the sisters to be taken seriously as a vampire mistress and didn't actually want to dehumanize him, but explicitly, even ignoring the forced pet play that showed she had fun treating him like a dog, she reduced him to a "problem to be solved" when complaining about her woes, and when she could have apologized or explained herself she minimized or doubled down on the harm she caused, never once expressing any remorse or doing anything worthwile to make up for it (like, for example, talking about the ring and how it's a shame Hector is only there because he has no choice because she feels they'd be good friends without it: that would imply guilt).

In fact, going back to the moment when Lenore decides to use the ring, it is far more likely that it was in response to this part of the conversation Lenore has eavesdropped:

Striga: We can possibly push east as far as Lake Balaton before I run out of soldiers, but that exposes our Western border. Morana: Sleep. Striga: We can't do it without Lenore turning the forgemaster, and she's just taking him out for fucking walkies. Morana: She will land him. Striga: It's going to have to be soon.

Considering that it's shown that Lenore highly resents being seen as a stupid animal lover, it's far easier to think that this is when she got pissy and decided to use a quicker method, even if it destroyed all the hard manipulation work she had done.

One frame might paint her as a reluctant villain only trying to make everyone happy and being stuck between a rock and a hard place, but multiple scenes paint her as a vile bully and abuser who enjoys feeling in power and control, whether she uses kindness or harm to achieve her goal.

I'm sorry, subtext can absolutely enrich the understanding of a story or character, but not when it actively contradicts the text.

Do you want my personal example? I'll play the same game of overanalyzing expressions. When Isaac attacks the castle, Lenore goes to rescue Hector first thing, instead of checking on Carmilla. For one moment, she even looks torn on where to go:

I will praise this moment: this shows her concern for him quite nicely and that she believes his safety is the first priority, without having to spell it out - no declataration of love, no "you're too important to me", no "Carmilla can handle herself without me", the action speaks for itself. However, there is also her reaction when Hector severs his finger to get rid of the ring, after he explains that "command and control flows through [him] to Lenore here and to her friends":

It could be simple disgust because, well, there's a severed finger and pools of blood lying near her. But I also see what the commenter saw in that frame in S3: sadness. Defeat. Lenore has lost control of the Night Creatures. She can't do anything to protect Carmilla and the castle. And she has lost control of Hector, who has gone behind her back and is protecting her at the expense of her sisters and home: he may chose to stay with her, but he also gave Isaac all the tools he needs to destroy her life. She's powerless. Everything she has worked for went up in smokes and was pointless. Which, as it was shown and told, greatly bothers her. (this is also why I believe her suicide makes sense for her state of being, an opinion apparently not shared by her fans)

I see all of this encapsulated into that expression that mixes disgust, concern and quiet, horrified realization: and it's also fully backed up by the context.

This leads to the message I keep insisting on and which is something that more people need to learn, and the reason I keep eviscerating this character because the writing and the fandom piss me off something fierce: abusers can care about you. They can care about your safety and well being, they can want what (they think) it's best for you. What makes them abusers is that they place more importance on their own need of control. Lenore wanting to save Hector because she pitied him, has grown close to him and eventually finds in him someone who listens to her doesn't at all erase in the slightest all the harm she has caused him: which, I reiterate, includes lying to him and taking advantage of his feelings and need for love to trick him into sex with the objective of placing a slave ring on him, and enjoying his suffering when she won - and when Hector called her out on this, her response was "SHUSH, YOU WERE HAVING FUN".

At the end of the day, she has never stopped behaving like a vampire, a creature whose definition of love is "acting to keep something with you for as long as you can". Even in her most wholesome scenes, like this one or the one where she pleads for more of Carmilla's patience, it's easy to see at the core of it all a need to control the situation and people involved, and reluctance to admit her needless cruelty. This is nuance, not "she's actually good deep down, pls ignore all the sexual abuse because it was for Hector's own good 🥺".

On one hand, it's true that when you do character analyses, you will always be biased, because you come in with your ideas and preconceptions. I am biased too, of course, you can tell. On the other, it's dishonest to cling only onto the most convenient hidden details to look like you have fully understood the text, when you dismiss the most obvious ones that are so obvious you have to actively try to.

[jasontoddenthusiastt]

“Jason hasn’t built a single safe injection site or an orphanage in the comics?”

Yes, and we don’t care. Nor did anyone say that’s what we want to see in the comics. Were you getting to a point?

*makes a separate post about how much they like seeing restorative care in comics and mentions Helena Leslie and Bruce and why they like these characters*

[muzzlemouths]

having the kind of mental panic that not even Creating Art can fix. wuh oh

[sesamestreep]

for your consideration in the “it’s a nice problem to have but still definitely a problem” category: the people I spent most of this summer so far interviewing with for a job didn’t hire me but, in their rejection email, they told me to apply for another job they’d be posting at the end of the month and so now I’m in maybe the most awkward job application process of my life

[brinkle-brackle]

attempted lore redemption au where he lives on the enterprise with everyone but he has to wear a shock collar in case he decides to do something nefarious (he whines about it on the daily)

[aninkwellofnectar]

I have one fear and its that I'm stuck like this. Stuck doing jobs I don't care about to finance the one I do care about and that I'm never going to get out of this stupid financial rut my country has been driven into and have a place to call my own.

[hiraya-sa-dilim]

proposed change-up for "facade" for netflix

abandoning old dc references, we get urania blackwell, a woman depressed and isolated after developing an untreatable career-destroying (career being modelling / acting / anything that relies deeply on keeping up w conventional beauty standards) chronic skin disease. she tries different ways to kill herself but always chickens out last minute until, in her frustration, death actually heeds her call. death promises to take her like she wants... after a year. urania is furious, cursing death for prolonging her agony.

but then things start to just... get better. urania learns her friends and family don't hate her for changing and instead love her more strongly for it. she finds a community of those with similar afflictions and forms bonds with them beyond the hurt they share. she discovers a new talent she uses to excel at a new job she enjoys and basically expands her identity beyond her looks and shame.

and then death keeps her promise. except urania doesn't want to go anymore. but death keeps her side of every deal, always. urania mourns what would have been a long, fulfilling life ahead of her and settles for being grateful she was granted another year to be happy and loved again.