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kitkatt0430 · 6 months ago

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do you have a favorite season or episode of Leverage? i love seeing you post about this show :)

Leverage is one of those shows that it's so hard to pic favorites because it's all so incredibly, satisfyingly good.

The first season is probably the worst which is still putting it head and shoulders over the best season of so many other shows that I love. It was hurt by being aired out of order, which thankfully the other seasons didn't suffer from, but it has so many little details in there that become running gags throughout the series. Plan M, Hardison dies. Let's steal an <X>. Parker stabbing a guy with a fork. Hardison's stories about his Nana. Eliot's very specific catchphrase. Sophie's struggle with being an actress vs being a grifter. Alice White. Hurley. Sterling. Old Nate.

I think the Pilot and the two-part finale are my favorites from that season though it is a very close call with basically every other episode.

The Pilot of course gives us the crew and becomes incredibly important to understand the motivations of the final villain of S4. So, so much is established in this episode. The heist at the start, the mini-con at the hospital, and the main con to get their revenge. The walk-away where they all fail to walk away.

And then the two part finale. Nate's ex wife shows up and everyone basically falls in love with Maggie because she's awesome. Sterling truly establishing the Sterling always wins rule with his second win. Nate being able to punch - in the face - the guy who turned down the insurance claim for the medical procedure that might have saved Nate's dying son. Sophie trying to have her cake and eat it too, only to ultimately chose the team over herself. Old Nate becoming the Leverage mascot (to real Nate's chagrin).

Season 2 is probably my second least favorite because I think Sophie leaving the team is somewhat... mishandled? Overall they handled the actress needing time off while pregnant well, but she leaves the team to find herself but is upset that Nate gives her that space and encourages the team to do so as well? Like, yeah, he needs to be better at asking for help and it's his big failing this season but he's very much trying to respect what Sophie asked for and given shit about it. But this is quite possibly the only overarching storyline the show fumbled which is sooooo impressive. (Glances at the Flash and it's many fumbled storylines.)

The first episode of this season is hands down favorite. The team gets back together. Parker as a lock picking nun. The Team taking over Nate's apartment (and then refusing to leave for three seasons). The fact that this episode sets up the series finale. Because it does. The whole reason Nate decides to give in and rejoin the team for more than just this one job at the end? Is because this is where he realizes what really happened behind the scenes of the 2007-08 financial crisis, which leads directly to the target of The Long Goodbye Job.

(holy shit is this show amazing at callbacks and maintaining continuity)

I also really love the Two Live Crew Job for introducing Chaos and The Lost Heir Job for bringing in Tara for the rest of the season (only complaint is we barely get any more of her after this season). Though if I were to pick a second favorite episode of the season it'd be The Bottle Job because I love them saving the bar together and it has the first hints of Jimmy Ford being revealed (explaining further why Nate is the way he is).

I think Season 3 and 4 tie for me as second favorite seasons. S3 has the plot with the Italian and finally stops using Nate's personal failings as the driving impetus of the season finale. Eliot being so very ashamed of the man he used to be is incredibly touching (someone hug this man) and makes it all the more impressive what kind of man he's become now.

I love The Inside Job for putting Parker front and center. Introducing the man who raised her, but also failed her in a way that makes Nate quite likely want to punch Archie in the face. The show never outright calls Parker autistic, but she is. She so clearly is. And it's very plain to see that was factored into the set design for where Parker lives. It was part of Archie's reasoning for keeping her separate from his family - though he can say 'she wouldn't fit in' all he wants, the truth is clear in how he says it. But despite how he failed her, the episode is about showing that Parker does have a family now. The Leverage Crew. And they love her because she is the way she is. Because if she were any different, she wouldn't be their Parker. And they are willing to fight for her and trust her and follow her lead.

I love any episode where Hardison gets to be artsy, so The Scheherazade Job is beloved. How dare he be so talented? So, so, so multi-talented.

The Studio Job gives us Eliot's softer side and Christian Kane's wonderful country singing voice.

The Three Card Monte Job introducing Jimmy Ford in the flesh and giving us the wonderfully fucked up relationship he has with Nate. They love each other but they're too much alike to get ever get along. Each one has a very different code of ethics that clash irreconcilably.

The Rashoman Job is just incredibly well played, with the actors in the flashbacks being slowly updated as it's revealed this person or that person was actually one of the Leverage Crew pre-show. Sophie's accent in the flashbacks getting increasingly incomprehensible until she's basically speaking what the wingdings fonts look like when you try to type normally with them.

The King George Job giving more artsy Hardison who hacks history and probably needs a nap. Sophie's complicated backstory and her realization that cons where she thought no one really got hurt may have actually gotten people hurt after all - a character story beat that Leverage Redemption picked up for her and continued beautifully.

The San Lorenzo Job is absolutely stunning. Sophie shines here (and yet again does not know how to keep out of sight at her own funeral) absolutely stunningly as she builds herself up as a sort of Princess Diana/Evita type before her "assassination" that helps seal the deal of their election theft scheme.

Season 4 tying itself so neatly back to the job that started it all when it turns out the rich dude trying to manipulate them is working with Dubenich. It's impressive how well they pull off the reveal. But he's not the only big call back to Season One we get here. Parker's Alice White persona and the friend she made - Peggy - come back. Hurley comes back.

The Van Gogh Job is the best, best, best of the season. It doesn't pull any punches in saying "hey, this romance we're doing between a white girl and a black man? that used to be illegal. It is in living memory that these relationships could get black men lynched by racists with little to no repercussions. And talented black men would have their achievements handed to white men because 'that's the way it was.'" It puts the main actors into the roles of characters in the past just to make sure it hits hard because we know these faces. We're emotionally attached to them. Holy shit this episode.

The Hot Potato Job where the problem kid of the school field trip Nate and Parker hijack just needed people to treat him like a person, not a problem, to behave well. The way he bonds with Hardison and helps them smuggle the potato out at the end? I love this kid, I want to learn he's working for Leverage International one day.

The Carnival Job where the mark's kid is kidnapped and they burn their con because a child's life is more important. Eliot fighting concussed and with his eyes shut because he will be damned if he fails to save this little girl.

The Grave Danger Job managing to be the best 'buried alive' plot I have ever seen on a tv show (and it is a staple plot of tv shows from the 90s/early 2000s). They steal a police car and an ambulance for the sirens. It gets series with Parker calling Hardison 'Alec' and being at the most emotional we've seen her all show.

The Office Job being done in the style of The Office (and then the mockumentary follow up in the behind the scenes featurettes) is just priceless.

The Girls Night Out/The Boys Night Out Jobs being so perfect in how they intertwine over the course of the same night.

The Radio Job showing us just how much Jimmy Ford loves his son.

The Last Dam Job giving us "my son would be ashamed of me for killing someone. My father? My father would buy me an ice cream." Dubenich ultimately destroying himself while Nate walks away.

Season 5 is my favorite season, though. It's the culmination of where the show was heading from the start. Parker has grown so much from the first season that she's able to run her own con - something Sophie and Hardison have both attempted and failed - and with the rest of the team out of town to boot. Parker and Hardison clearly got the brew pub as a gift for Eliot, while realizing he'd never accept if they don't reverse psychology him into it. Sophie buying the theater and finally discovering her talent for directing as well as overcoming the blocks that kept her from bringing her prodigious acting talent to the stage floor. Nate achieving the goal that's driven him since the start of Season Two.

I love the French Connection Job for giving us more Chef Eliot. His relationship with food is lovely and this is my favorite exploration of it. Parker finally learning to appreciate beauty in art because of how she grows to understand how Eliot connects with cooking and learns to appreciate the artistry that goes into food.

The Gimme a K Job hits home personally for me - one of my sister's best friends (who was also the older sister of one of my best friends) was a cheerleader who hit her head in a cheer stunt gone wrong where the spotter messed up. It took a very, very long time for her to truly recover from that concussion (and thus why I know tv shows are bullshit for having people just walk that off) and knowing her injuries might have been less severe if cheerleading safety were taken more seriously...

The DB Cooper Job being another excellent episode built around Flashbacks staring the main cast in different roles. Agent McSweeten has to know something is up with the Leverage Crew, but he clearly respects and admires all of them. Especially Parker.

The Broken Wing Job giving us Parker on her own putting together a temporary crew from the wait staff and pulling off a con all on her own, while injured. (The whole reason why she wasn't with the team, in fact.) And it's so damn impressive of her.

The Rundown Job being as close to confirmed Eliot/Parker/Hardison as we're going to get outside of word of god (which we have!!!!) and it's beautiful to watch them work together without Nate and Sophie. It's also foreshadowing for them working together when Nate and Sophie retire.

Similarly, The Frame Up Job gives us how far Nate and Sophie have come as a couple and is as close to Nate/Sophie/Sterling as we'll probably ever get. (No word of god on this one, just me being overwhelmed by Nate and Sterling's impressive divorced-couple vibes. They're more divorced than Nate and Maggie, who are actually divorced.)

The White Rabbit Job where they almost push too far with their gaslighting routine but Parker is able to save the day by connecting to their mark in a way she didn't know how to when the show began. Her character development is such a highlight of she series so the repeated payoffs in this season are just... golden.

Every single thing about The Long Goodbye Job. Once again, all the callbacks to previous seasons. Eliot/Parker/Hardison being heavily hinted at again. Sterling letting Nate go because Nate was right, no matter what the law says. Parker inheriting the lead of the team from Nate. Sophie performing on stage the same play from the pilot, but being excellent at it this time. The episode's whole plot - again, cannot stress this enough - being a callback/having been foreshadowed by the season 2 premiere.

As you can tell, I love this show. It's beautiful and incredible and I was so, so relieved when Leverage Redemption premiered and I could instantly see that they'd done the impossible all over again. They'd recaptured the magic of the original show.

#kitkatt0430 answers #kitkatt0430 rambles #thank you so much for asking #i love leverage soooo much #leverage #fandom meta #leverage meta

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highladyluck · 7 months ago

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13 books tag game, tagged by @amemoryofwot and @asha-mage (incidentally I typoed that as "amemeryofwot" which would be an excellent sideblog concept, maybe snatch that one up?)

1) Last book I read:

Mistress of the Empire by Raymond Feist & Janny Wurts (at the time I started filling this out, anyway… I've been working on this ask for several days) This whole trilogy was a delight, thanks to @sixth-light for telling me I would love Mara!

2) A book I recommend:

The Best of All Possible Worlds by Karen Lord. It's a quiet little road trip romance exploring grief & diaspora, in a setting that I can best describe as 'if Madeline L'Engle had been in charge of Star Trek worldbuilding'. (If you squint you can see analogues to humans, Vulcans, Romulans, and Orions, but the tone is reminiscent of L'Engle.) There are sequels that follow different characters but this is the first one and it works as a standalone. I feel like it has a lovely light touch on some intense subjects and I appreciate the way each chapter works as a separate story while still fitting into the whole.

3) A book that I couldn’t put down:

I remember staying up past my bedtime for The Monster Baru Cormorant, I think? At the very least, that's where we first get my beloved Tau-Indi, and the pacing on the climax is kinda weird, about 2/3rds in, so I think I would have read through to it without stopping. I don't know if this question is supposed to be about compellingness or pacing? Probably compellingness, I think I'm weirdly fixated on structure when I read things. But sometimes I think books you 'can't put down' are at least partially that way because there's no damn place to breathe, and I don't entirely approve.

4) A book I’ve read twice (or more)

I see from literally everyone who has tagged me in this that this is one of the two free spaces for Wheel of Time, but I'll switch it up: Lifeboats by Diane Duane. It's set between Young Wizards 9 & 10 and deals with an emergency response team permanently evacuating an entire alien population from a natural disaster (RIP their moon and also consequently their planet). This novel is a huge comfort read for me and is undoubtedly the Young Wizards work I've read the most. I don't really know how to explain what it means to me… I wish I had had it when I was living and working in a foreign country.

5) A book on my TBR

A friend recommended Cahokia Jazz (in general, not to me specifically) and it sounds SO MUCH like my jam. I suspect if I can't find it at my library soon, I'll end up buying the ebook.

6) A book I’ve put down

Can't think of a recent one, but if I hadn't forced myself to finish reading it because it was a Hugo Award nominee, I would have DNF'd Project Hail Mary.

7) A book on my wish list

I wish for more Baru Cormorant but I also literally cannot imagine how Seth is going to write that next book. So like, I'm girding my loins for Baru #4 either 15 years from now or never.

8) A favourite book from childhood

When I was really little I loved the Berenstain Bear books and my mom HATED that I loved them ("they were so badly written!" - my mom the children's librarian) but she bought them for me anyway. That's love.

9) A book you would give a friend

You all need to read Middlemarch by George Eliot. I don't care what stage of life you're at, you will find something resonant in it. Read it now, and read it again in 20 years. Give it to recent high school grads. Give it as a wedding present. Take it to the beach. BUT I am specifically recommending it to the WoT contingent, because the characters are so good!

10) The most books you own by a single author

It's actually either Diane Duane or Terry Pratchett, and DD's probably winning because I don't have every Pratchett book but I do have almost every DD book including tie-in novels.

11) A nonfiction book you own

Four Lost Cities: A Secret History of the Urban Age by Annalee Newitz. I don't read a ton of nonfiction but the writing is very engaging and I think cities are neat.

12) what are you currently reading

I'm between books but I just finished The Imposition of Unnecessary Obstacles (as I am writing this part several days after question 1). I didn't like it as much as the first one, The Mimicking of Known Successes, but I think it's just a taste thing. I didn't like being in Pleiti's POV very much, her overthinking is too much like mine and it alternately stresses me out and makes me angry, because I can see the assumptions/unhelpful thought patterns but I can't fix them. Obviously, to draw that reaction from me the characters are well-defined, and I like everything else about the series, I just hope it goes back to Mossa's POV.

13) what are you planning on reading next?

WHEN WILL 'RED SIDE STORY' BY JASPER FFORDE REACH MY HOUSE??? I have been waiting like 15 years for this sequel to Shades of Grey and the entire point of preordering it was so I could have it ASAP. I could have walked into a bookstore on May 9th and walked out with it, and instead I won't get it until tomorrow. >:(

I think I am supposed to add a shelfie? The organizing principles(s) of this shelf in my bedroom are very weird…. Classics/adventure, fantasy, popular science writing? Someday I need to reshelve everything in the house according to size/favoriteness/genre/theme/vibes (in that order) but I haven’t felt like it.

I think pretty much everyone I was going to tag already got tagged, so whoever want to do it, go ahead!

#book meme #tag game

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kylewithann · 1 year ago

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Village Necromancer - A Solo TTRPG Liveblog

Back when I was posting all of my journaling game playthroughs on Twitter, the first one I did was Village Witch by Eliot Silvarian. Today I'm playing a re-flavoring of that system called Village Necromancer by SmallTownCreepy. As a fresh-faced graduate of Atropos University, you are charged to set up a necromantic practice for your year-long residency. Will you succeed and find a place to call home? Or will you have to start anew next year? Only time will tell.

CW: This game has themes of death and dying.

How to Play

For this game, you'll need a d6 and a tarot deck.

The gameplay is divided into seasons, which each last 13 weeks. For each week, a tarot card is pulled from the deck for an event-based writing prompt. I will also be playing with the optional roll to roll a d6 to determine the outcome of the event (1-3: bad outcome, 4-6: good outcome). At the middle or end of the season, your necromancer can decide if they want to move villages or continue their practice where they are. Gameplay ends when you have gone through all 4 seasons, after which you move to the ending questions and decide whether or not your residency was a success.

Character Creation

Now it's time to build out our necromancer using some guiding prompts:

Name - Cordyceps, but he goes by Cordy

Pronouns - he/him

Appearance - he's just a little mushroom guy! Think of a mini-myconid from D&D or a mushroom veggieling if you're familiar with the Dragon Stew 5e supplement by Antonio Demico.

Clothing - Unlike what you would expect from a typical necromancer, Cordy likes to dress in warm colors like oranges, reds, and yellows.

Why a necromancer? - Being a necromancer runs in Cordy's mycelium. His family has always had an affinity for reanimating the dead, so Cordy is pursuing a family tradition.

What are your code of ethics? - Cordy does no harm to living creatures. He's a good boy who tries his best to help others.

What are your favorite necromantic spells? - Cordy loves to reanimate corpses with his own lil shroomy twist. You can tell which bodies he has revived based on the mushrooms sprouting on them.

World/Village/Residence Creation

Now time to flesh out our world! For the setting, I've chosen high fantasy.

After rolling a d6 to determine what kind of village we start out in, I got The Grasslands, where funeral pyres are common.

Now to answer some more prompts to define our residence within village. The prompts are kinda long, so I'll just bullet point my responses to the questions:

Cordy resides within the local cemetery, which is mostly made up of the graves of poor farmers.

Instead of having a traditional home, he likes to burrow into the soil to create a living space under the dirt (think of Rabbit's hole from Winnie the Pooh). He has spaced it a respectful distance away from the graves.

Cordy keeps a little garden of herbs and produce to share with the locals.

Meadowfield is your standard farming village. The houses are sparse among the rolling fields of crops, minus a small town center where your farmer's market takes place.

There is a dilapidated church not far from the cemetery that most of the villagers religiously attend.

Meadowfield is informally governed by a council of the farmers with the most land. The council is facilitated by the local priest, Rhys.

The villagers of Meadowfield, being a very religious and superstitious sort, are initially apprehensive towards Cordy's arrival.

The first person Cordy meets is Burke, and older gentleman who comes to the cemetary often to pay respects to his deceased wife, Mabel.

Season #1: Spring

More opening questions to start off the first season! The questions are once again a little too long to write them down word for word, but my responses will give you a general idea of the prompts:

Meadowfield has begun planting its spring crops, particularly potatoes, parsnips, green beans, cauliflower, and kale.

Meadowfield is made up of hardworking, dilligent people. Unfortunately this means they give themselves little time to celebrate the season of rebirth and renewal.

They're also so busy tending to their crops that they hardly ever take time to honor their dead. Most often, the deceased are cremated and their ashes are spread over the crops in hopes that they'll nuture the soil. You do, however, have some people that insist that their loved ones are buried in a traditional manner (much like Burke).

Cordy plans to show the people of Meadowfield that instead of working themselves to death while allowing themselves no pleasures, they should celebrate life while they still draw breath.

As far as the literal seeds he is planting, he is currently nurturing some strawberry and rhubarb plants for potential jams and pies.

Cordy is naive and stubborn enough to believe that he doesn't have to sacrifice anything in pursuit of his goals.

Now we can dive into the events for Spring! Let's hope we get some successful rolls!

Spring #1:

Event - A man cursed with immortality seeks your aid.

Dice result - 1 (fail)

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While there was no door to Cordy's residence, he could feel large footsteps rumbling through the ground. He emerged from the ground to find a large, ancient tree person hovering above his home.

The arboreal creature entreated the small fungal necromancer for his aid. They had traveled from a faraway forest because they had heard rumors that there was a practitioner of death in Meadowfield. Their request perhaps went outside of the parameters of Cordy's usual practice: they had lived for far too long and wished to pass on and create a fertile environment for their little seedlings to grow.

Cordy was conflicted. While he had promised to never trifle with the living, the tree person's begging tugged on his heartstrings. The mushroom boy wanted nothing more than to help a troubled soul in need, so he agreed to lend a hand.

Cordy was initially stumped as how to carry out this plan, but then an idea popped into his head. While his spores normally reanimated the dead, why couldn't they also fulfill the mushroom's natural purpose to decompose?

Cordy drew from the power of the mycelium to channel his spell spores. With a puff, they drifted over towards the tree creature. Cordy's chest puffed up with pride as he watched the mushrooms began to sprout from the bark as the tree person let out a contented sigh. But suddenly, the sigh turned into an agonized yell.

"It burns," the wooden creature cried, attempting to peel their own bark off of themself.

Before Cordy could reverse the spell, it was already too late. His spores had turned into a painful infestation, spreading rapidly. There was nothing the fledgling necromancer could do.

The tree person contorted into a painful, angular position and let out once last pained moan, their face forever frozen in a grimace. Their body had rotted from the inside out. They would never be able to properly provide for their sprouts now.

Cordy's first instinct was to dispose of the body within flames. But he couldn't bring himself to do so. Instead, the poor creature's dark, twisted frame would hang over the entrance to Cordy's abode for days to come, reminding the necromancer of his failure and his re-commitment to his code of ethics.

Spring #2:

Event - You hear an unsettling rumor in the village. What is it? Who is involved? Is the rumor true?

Dice result - 6 (pass)

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One day, as Cordy was walking around the farmer's market to grab supplies, he heard two spinsters gossiping loudly as he walked by.

"Well I heard that Silas is intending to buy out the graveyard to expand his farm"

"Oh heavens, what are they going to do with all of those bodies?"

"Dig them up, I suppose. Probably light the pyres, you know."

"Oh poor Burke, he'll be so heartbroken..."

As the two woman chattered on, Cordy felt his mycelium grow cold. There was no way that could be. Where would he live and practice? Worse, how would his friend Burke be able to visit Mabel if she was no longer resting there? He had to get to the bottom of this rumor to see if it was true.

It was easy to find Silas' farm, as it was the most expansive in Meadowfield. Cordy hurriedly made his way to the farmer's homestead and knocked on his door. As Silas came out to greet him, the little mushroom lad began to barrage him with questions and pleas to not tear the graveyard down. With a chuckle and a sympathetic smile, Silas assuaged the necromancer's fears.

"I can see why you're worried, but not to worry, kiddo. I would never disrespect those folks like that. Your cemetery is safe. Ya know, I'm actually thinkin' of buyin' a plot over yonder by..."

As Silas began to ramble about his plans to increase his fields, Cordy breathed an internal sigh of relief. That would be the last time he believed such wild gossip.

Spring #3:

Event - A day of stillness, quiet, and self care. Do you gain a new perspective?

Dice result - 5 (pass)

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

Business was virtually nonexistent for the recent necromancer graduate. The villagers were still wary of Cordy and his "dark arts." It gave Cordy lots of time to tidy up his home and tend to his crops.

Eventually, he started running out of things to do. He had to find alternate ways to keep himself entertained. Sometimes, he would go through the cemetery and read the headstones, imagining what the lives of the deceased buried beneath must've been like. Sometimes, he would go into town just to people watch. Eventually, even these activities began to grow stale.

It was another slow day in the graveyard when Cordy decided to do something he had never done before: settle somewhere quiet and practice meditating. He sat under a nearby shady tree and closed his eyes, feeling the spring breeze rustle his mushroom caps. He tried to empty his mind of all thoughts, but he couldn't help but drift back to thinking about the denizens of Meadowfield.

He had spent so much time these past three weeks trying to advertise his services to the people of the village, but all he had been met with was polite declines or outright disdain. He had hit a wall. How could he ever win over the hearts of the people of Meadowfield?

A revelation came to him: he couldn't brute force his way into swaying the hearts and minds of the villagers. He would have to slowly ingratiate himself into their community. He had to meet them at their level. Perhaps he could win them over by sharing his crops and the fare he could create from them? He could set up at the farmers market and converse with the local farmers. If they were less afraid of him, maybe they would be more likely to come to him in the future.

He would have to sacrifice his time and patience, yes. This would be the things he allowed to die to serve as compost for his plans. From this, he hoped something beautiful would grow.

Spring #4:

Event - Another Necromancer shows up in town and questions your skills

Dice result - 3 (fail)

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As Cordy was tending to his patch of crops, he was alerted by the appearance of arcane runes appearing on the ground nearby. He watched as a fiery portal opened up and a familiar figure emerged. It was Nespira, a red-skinned tiefling who also practiced the necromantic arts. Like Cordy, she was a recent graduate--top of the class, actually. What she was doing here, Cordy had no idea. It wasn't like they were particularly close.

"Ah, I had heard that their was another Atropos student who had set up a practice here," she said, her eyes sweeping the graveyard with a disdainful expression, "Meadowfield, huh? Hm. Certainly a choice."

As for Nespira, she explained that she had set up shop in Metropolia. The name was familiar to Cordy. He had never been, but he had heard it was the largest city in the land. According to Nespira, business had been booming for her.

"And what about you, Cordyceps? How many customers have you had so far?"

Cordy sheepishly held up a single finger, causing the tiefling necromancer to let out a haughty laugh.

"Oh that's a shame" Nespira said, feigning pity, "but I suppose it can't be helped. "

Her gaze then landed on the gnarled tree body that stood watch over Cordy's residence. She took a moment to study it before recognition spread across her face.

"So this must've been your only customer. A pity. Seems like you couldn't get the decomposition right. And such a simple spell too."

Nespira extended a single finger, necrotic energy swirling around it. Before Cordy could protest, a beam shot from her index finger. As it hit her target, the deceased tree creature slowly began to melt into a pile of black ichor. The mushroom boy's heart sank.

Nespira then chanted under her breath before another doorway of flames opened up before her. As she partially stepped through the portal, she turned and looked back at Cordy.

"Cheer up, Cordyceps. You can always try your residency again next year...if they don't call you back to the university, of course. You could certainly use the practice."

With a wink, the transportation spell closed behind her. All of the tears Cordy had been holding back began to spill onto his face. He would prove Nespira wrong. He had to.

Spring #5:

Event - You are visited by a village official. Is everything alright?

Dice result - 3 (fail)

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

Cordy was in the process of backing a strawberry rhubarb pie to bring to the farmer's market when he felt a foot tapping gently near the opening to his home. Cordy tunneled up through the tunnel to find Rhys, the local priest of the old church.

"Hiya, Rhys!" Cordy said with a bow. "What can I do for ya? I got a pie in the oven if you wanna stay around for tea."

The clergyman's solemn expression did not shift. He bowed his head gently, his eyes looking at the ground rather than making contact with the mushroom lad's.

"Thank you for the kind gesture. However, I'm afraid I must decline. I am here strictly on business. The news is...not pleasant. I will keep it brief."

"The people of Meadowfield feel...uncomfortable with the presence of a necromancer in our community," Rhys continued. "The farmers put it to a vote and...well...I'm afraid I must ask you to leave our village."

Cordy felt like he had been hit in the chest with a ton of bricks. He tried to keep his composure, but he could feel his bottom lip quivering while holding back tears.

"I'm sorry for the short notice, but the villagers requested that you leave by tomorrow morning. If you will excuse me, I will give you time to gather up your belongings. Good luck on your journey, Cordy."

The priest departed, leaving Cordy alone. Cordy descended into his abode, sniffling as he began to pack up his things. As he was almost ready to depart, a timer dinged. His pie was ready. Cordy released the fire magic that was baking his dessert while he slowly removed it from its resting place, looking down at the lattice pattern he had placed on the crust with care.

Carefully, he wrapped up the baked good. Afterwards, he jotted a quick note. He emerged from his dirt hole and walked over to Mabel's headstone, setting the items down. He wanted to leave a gift and explanation for his departure to first and only friend in this town, Burke. He knew he would be by tomorrow to bring flowers to her grave, right on schedule.

With the last of his things packed, Cordy slung his bag over his shoulders and began walking down the dirt path. It was time to start over once again.

Village/Residence Creation #2

Because Cordy has been kicked out of Meadowfield after his unsuccessful tenure there, it's time to roll up and build out a new village. Here are the main points:

The village of Neverglades resides within a swamp, complete with bog mummies.

There is no official graveyard in Neverglades. The dead are given something akin to a Viking funeral: wrapped bodies are floated on a small boat and are torched by fire magic.

Instead, Cordy lives in a house on chicken feet stilts, much like the other denizens of Neverglades. The huts can travel across the murky marsh with ease, meaning neighbors can go directly to each other without ever touching the ground below.

Cordy's home is small and sparse, but he has a hammock he can hang from the tree branches so he can relax and enjoy some quiet time in the humid outdoors.

This place is more up Cordy's alley than Meadowfield. The villagers all have a quirky vibe that the budding necromancer can relate to. They are also not fearful of the dark arts.

The shops of Neverglades are run out usually more stationary huts by their residents. They are not in a centralized location, so one has to remember where each shop is and travel to them separately.

There is no unified body of worship. The denizens of Neverglades are more spiritual, preferring to commune with nature.

The village is ruled by an ancient hag known only as "The Mother"

Neverglades celebrates Cordy's arrival, as their last necromancer recently passed on.

The first person Cordy meets is actually The Mother, as she was the one to give him her blessing to move into the community.

Season #2: Summer

Opening questions answered to start the second season:

The citizens of Neverglades deal with the hot weather by taking frequent plunges into the water. It's not the most sanitary or safe, but it's the only way to beat the heat.

Neverglades hosts a huge celebration for the summer solstice.

Cordy is working hard this summer. Haunted by the failures of spring, he wants to prove that he has a place in his new community.

The cards for last season have been shuffled back into the deck. Let's see how summer plays out!

Summer #1:

Event - A villager hires you to reanimate their dying business

Dice result - 5 (pass)

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

Cordy was unpacking the last of his belongings when he heard the creaking of another hut sidling up next to his. He scurried over to his front porch to spy a wild-haired, heavily pierced girl waving him down. She introduced herself as Chana and began to bemoan her plight.

She was the oldest creator and salesman of shrunken heads in Neverglades. What was perhaps an odd and even terrifying practice outside of the bog was commonplace here. As such, competition had begun to pop up, diluting the market. Chana expressed that if things didn't turn around soon for her, she would have to close up shop. She pleaded with the necromancer to help her get a leg up on her competitors any way he could.

Cordy pondered on how to help the girl. After all, he didn't possess any business acumen. But then, a quite literal idea popped into his head: why not reanimate a dying business by...well...reanimating the dead?

Cordy dug deep into his mycelium to create spell spores to overtake one of the shrunken heads. As mushrooms began to sprout through the eye sockets, the head gasped and cried out in a comically squeaky and indignant voice,

"Heya bud, what's the big idea?!"

Chana laughed long and hard. She asked if Cordy to create more of these, to which the necromancer agreed. Once he finished his task, Chana was beaming.

"Business is gonna be BOOMING after this! Thanks mister! I owe ya one!"

As she lept across the gap from Cordy's residence to her own, she waved heartily as her hut began to dislodge from the mire and trod away.

"If ya ever need anything, ya can rely on Chana! Ya hear that? Chana's got your back!"

At last, Cordy had successfully serviced his first customer.

Summer #2:

Event - You are woken by the sound of someone digging their own grave

Dice result - 3 (fail)

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

It was shortly before sunrise before Cordy slowly awoke to a strange sound: the wet sloshing and slopping of mud. He sleepily stumbled out to his front porch to investigate the source.

Down in the swamp below, there was a giant, humanoid creature made of mud. They were digging through the water, tossing muck and mire behind them. Cordy hailed the mud mound.

"Lookin' for somethin'?" the tiny necromancer called down below, "How can I help ya?"

The creature of slop shook their head, pointing to the hole that was slowly filling in with mud once more.

"It is my time. I feel the earth calling me back. Please, leave me to my work."

"But wait!" Cordy cried out. "I can help you! Are you sick? Injured? I can help! If you pass on, I can bring you back!"

Once again, the humanoid shook their head, muck sloughing off the side of them as they did so.

"I have no need for your magics.," they rumbled. The earth....she beckons me. To her I must return. I beg of you, leave me to my duty."

Cordy began to stammer out protest, but the creature ignored it. Once they had cleared away a sizeable portion of the bottom of the bog, their body began to relax. They slowly began melting into the bog.

"Goodbye....goodbye....I am going home."

That day, Cordy sat in solitude for a long time, attempting to process what had occurred in front of him. He left with this lesson: no matter how tragic, the wishes of the living in regards to their demise were something to be respected and honored.

Summer #3:

Event - A young couple of star-crossed lovers want to fake their deaths to escape their families.

Dice result - 5 (pass)

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

It was the dead of night when Cordy was awoken by the sound of someone calling out for him. Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, he stumbled towards the front porch to see what the fuss was about. The voice cried out once more, causing Cordy to turn his attention below. There he spotted a boat with a young man and woman inside, waving him down.

The couple introduced themselves as Julius and Ramona. They explained their plight: Julius was a noble and Ramona was a commoner from a kingdom not too far from Neverglades. After being told they could never be together, the lovers escaped and hatched a plan. They beseeched the necromancer for his aid: help them fake their deaths so they could slip away into anonymity. They left an obvious trail to the swamp so the search party would be able to find their decoys. Because of this, they didn't have much time and needed urgent assistance.

Cordy immediately got to work. He reached forth, calling forth mycelium to rapidly grow and expand into two roughly humanoid shapes. The gnarled forms looked almost like decayed corpses. Cordy explained that they should leave their top layer of clothing and possessions behind to aid the illusion before allowing the boat to float away. He offered to take them to the edge of the swamp via his movable home so they could make their escape. The couple gladly agreed, carrying out the next steps of the plan. Once the reached the clearing, they hurriedly thanked the necromancer before hopping off and running off into the distance hand-in hand.

Summer #4:

Event - You receive a bad omen. What form does it take? What do you think it’s warning you about? Does it come true?

Dice result - 5 (pass)

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

The omen was so subtle at first that Cordy didn't notice it. While his chicken-footed home trekked its way through the bog one day, Cordy spied a large tree taken with rot. Although the main body of the plant was no longer alive, green baby branches still dotted the large branches. The mushroom lad thought nothing of it.

The second omen was more obvious. While laying in his hammock tied to the treetops the next day, he spotted a deceased bird, still shielding her eggs even in death. Feeling pity for the poor babies, the necromancer used his magic to revive the mother.

Bad luck comes in threes, and this was no exception. The day after, Cordy was sweeping his porch when he spotted a gruesome sight: a mother gator floating belly up in the water with her babies feasting upon her flesh. This time, Cordy couldn't bring himself to use his necromancy upon the corpse--they were already too far gone.

The puzzle pieces clicked together in Cordy's brain. All of these dead creatures had one thing in common: they were providers. Mothers.

The Mother.

She must be in danger.

Cordy quickly rushed through the mire to make it to The Mother's hut. When he arrived, he found her on her bed. She looked so sickly and frail--she was definitely nearing the end. Neverglades could not survive without her. Cordy had to act fast. He had no time to grab a medic.

The mushroom boy conjured up some healing spores and sprinkled them all over the dying leader. With a gasp, her eyes shot open. She slowly raised herself from the bed.

"My child," The Mother croaked, "You have done us a great service this day. We thank you. Neverglades thanks you."

Summer #5:

Event - A sleeping sickness strikes the village. Those suffering look like they have died but recover in a few days…if they haven’t been buried or cremated already.

Dice result - 1 (fail)

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

Cordy was riding the high of last week's miracle. He was hailed a hero throughout the village and a celebration was held in his honor. He was so caught up in it all that the next tragedy flew under his radar.

It was only one or two people at first--a gentle snooze into a deep slumber, a deep slumber into nothing at all. Then it spread. Rapidly. Half of Neverglades was overtaken with what appeared a sleeping death. Chana, the shrunken head saleswoman who Cordy had become pals with, had been afflicted as well. The village made the difficult decision to dispose of the bodies before the plague spread to the remaining members.

Cordy pleaded with The Mother to try to let him perform his magic. He would be able to save these people. However, the hag could not be swayed.

"This is the only way to protect those we have left, my child."

Bodies were quickly being wrapped, placed on boats, and being prepared for the symbolic burnings. As people were distracted, Cordy nervously scuttled around to try and find Chana. If he could save her, perhaps the village would believe him.

His search took him some time, but at last, he was able to unwrap and find Chana. As he was preparing to perform a resurrection ritual, he heard her let out a yawn. Her eyes slowly blinked open, and she looked up at him with a confused expression.

"Oh hey little buddy, whatcha doin' here?"

Cordy's mycelium ran cold. These weren't deaths. These were victims of a sleeping sickness. A curable disease.

As Cordy ran to report his findings, he discovered that he was too late to save some of the villagers. Bodies were already being burned. Even though he acted as fast as he could, it wasn't enough.

Upon learning the truth, the denizens of Neverglades began working on reviving the remaining victims. Children were reunited with parents. Lovers reunited with lovers. However, what should've been a joyous occasion was solemn and morose. The smoke hung heavy in the air.

Summer #6:

Event - You find roadkill/dead animal that is fresh enough to reanimate.

Dice result - 5 (pass)

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

It was a quiet week. No one came by Cordy's residence, nor did Cordy reach out to anyone. He and Neverglades were still reeling from the recent losses.

The only thing Cordy did that week was revive a small animal that he found. It was basic necromantic practice--the very first thing he learned to do at the university. It wasn't much, but it was enough to remind him of her purpose. He was a necromancer. He could save lives.

Summer #7:

Event - You see or are informed that there is a ghost nearby. It's the specter of a highwayman. Do you investigate?

Dice result - 3 (fail)

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

"Hey Corrrrrdy!"

The small mushroom boy heard a familiar cry outside of his hut. Across the way, he spied Chana, waving him down wildly. It was in the middle of the night--what could she possibly want at this hour?

"I saw a ghoooooost! You wanna come check it out?"

Normally, Cordy would excitedly agree to the proposition. He loved a good old-fashioned spooky adventure. However, he was still haunted by all of the deaths from two weeks ago. Ghosts only served to remind him of his failures.

It broke his heart to see Chana so crestfallen after he turned down his plans. As her home trudged away, Cordy crawled back into bed. Sleep did not come easily to him that night.

Summer #8:

Event - A messenger on a skeleton horse brings you a small package.

Dice result - 6 (pass)

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

A loud, mournful neigh was not what Cordy expected to hear in the middle of the swamp. It was accompanied by the sound of a splashing gallop. Cordy had to check out the ruckus.

Outside of his abode, he saw a skeletal horse pull up to a stop right next to his home.

"Delivery!" the messenger called out.

Cordy lowered the ladder for the deliveryman. After climbing up and handing off the package, the courier saddled back up and rode off.

Cordy recognized the handwriting on the outside of the package--his mother's. He excitedly tore into the mail. Inside was a heartwarming note congratulating him on being almost halfway through his residency. His family was so proud of him and couldn't wait for him to return to visit soon. Also attached was a bag of Cordy's favorite mushroom tea.

As he brewed and drank in the earthy, umami flavor of the tea, nostalgia rushed over him. It was nice to hear from family and be reminded of home. He hoped that he could continue to make them proud.

Summer #9:

Event - You catch kids sneaking around at night

Dice result - 2 (fail)

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

Night had fallen, and Cordy was preparing for bed. Just as he was about to tuck in, he swore he heard the faintest hint of giggling. He grabbed a lantern and went outside to investigate the noise.

He scanned the horizon and couldn't find anything. But then, giggling once more. He peered down before and found what appeared to be three small figures playing in between the chicken legs of his residence.

Cordy excitedly waved down to them and asked them if they would like some tea. Startled, the children looked up at him with large eyes. They began screaming and running away.

Their fear was a painful reminder of what it was like living in Meadowfield.

Summer #10:

Event - There’s trouble in the village due to a misunderstanding. Do you get involved?

Dice result - 2 (fail)

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

Despite calling Neverglades his home, Cordy lived on the outskirts of the tiny town. As such, gossip hardly ever made it to his doorstep. But this time, he heard the news of unrest in the village. From what he could gather, a disagreement had broken out between The Mother and another member of the village.

Although Cordy was normally the type to poke his nose into business that wasn't his, he did not feel his usual drive to help. He was still thinking about the burning bodies. The fearful children. How could he show his face in the village right now? Instead, he decided to continue to huddle up in his home. He would wait for all of this to blow over.

Summer #11:

Event - You find buried treasure. Is it the usual of gold or something more unusual?

Dice Result - 3 (fail)

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

Cordy was foraging for cattails in the swamp--he had heard from one of the locals that the roots were particularly delicious this time of year. He was trudging through the muck when he felt his toe stub against something hard. After muttering some curses under his breath, Cordy began to dig through the mud to figure out what it was.

His eyes sparkled with delight as he pulled out what appeared to be a chest. Buried treasure! What secrets were hidden inside?

Cordy pried open the treasure chest and peeked inside. Nothing a couple of silvers and coppers. Boring. Cordy returned the chest to where it belonged and continued about his business.

Summer #12:

Event - You discover a berry hedge near your residence. Are they edible or poisonous? How do you know?

Dice result - 2 (fail)

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

After collecting and cooking up cattails successfully, Cordy had developed a newfound appreciation for the art of foraging. He wanted to continue pursuing this new hobby. Besides, it gave him the excuse to stay out of the village. His guilt still prevented him from stepping foot there.

While exploring, Cordy discovered a berry bush near the edge of the swamp. The small mushroom's mouth watered at the thought of biting into one of the delicious, juicy fruits. Cordy happily plucked a few berries from the shrub. As he returned home, he thought of all the ways he could utilize them in his cooking before just deciding on eating them raw. Along his walk, he popped a couple into his mouth.

However, once he returned to his home, he felt his stomach churn. He began to feel lightheaded. Uh-oh. Perhaps he should've investigated the berries further before eating them. It seemed as though he had unwittingly poisoned himself.

Luckily, he could conjure up a few healing spores to cure his ailment, but he still spent the rest of the day sulking in bed.

Summer #13:

Event - You are challenged to a game of chance. Do you make a wager? Use your D6 to see how you do in three rounds.

Dice result - 1 (fail)

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

As the end of the summer season drew near, Cordy pondered what his next move would be. He was officially halfway through his residency. Was Neverglades where he wanted to plant his roots? He felt his heart twinge. He didn't want to leave--this place had been so accepting towards him, and he felt like he did some good work here. However, he was still shaken by the sleeping sickness incident. Cordy was conflicted.

As he was wrestling with his thoughts, he once again heard the familar, chipper voice of Chana hailing him. Stepping out onto his porch, he found her and another individual who he hadn't met before.

Chana introduced the mysterious figure as Jack. According to her, Jack was an expert card player, so she figured they could all get together to play a game or two.

Although Cordy didn't want to participate, he felt bad for blowing Chana off for the past few weeks. Therefore, he agreed to play.

"So whatcha betting?" Jack asked with a sly smile.

Cordy was a little taken aback. He didn't realize they were playing with wagers.

"Oh...uh...I'll just play for fun," he offered with an embarrassed smile.

But in his mind, he decided to make a bet with himself: win this hand, and he'll stay in the Neverglades. Overcome the guilt he had been wrestling with and stay with his friends. Lose, and he'll pack up and start over. It was all or nothing.

As he pushed all of his makeshift tokens into the pot, Cordy bit his lip nervously. It all came down to this.

The card was flipped and revealed: total bust. Round lost.

Although Cordy was wracked with sadness at his lost, he knew the fates had spoken.

It was time for his tenure in the Neverglades to come to a close.

Village/Residence Creation #3

Although I'm heartbroken that Cordy will no longer continue living in the Neverglades, I feel like with the way the dice rolled this season, it makes sense for the story. So that means it's time to hit the drawing board and create another village. Here are the highlights of our new place of residence:

Sirensong is a stormy seaside town on a rocky cove, where water burials are common.

Cordy lives in an cave right on the shore, rumored to be a former thieves' hideout. Although it is not a graveyard, it is littered with bones from creatures and people alike.

The furnishments are minimal. No garden like he had in Meadowfield. No wraparound porch like he had in Neverglades.

Sirensong has a somber air about it. The mood of the villagers matches the dour weather and surroundings.

The buildings in Siresong are made from driftwood from ships that have crashed along its shores.

Because it is a port town, there is an open air bazaar with many traders selling wares from across the ocean. It is the most lively aspect of the town.

There is a temple on the highest point of the village overlooking the sea. Religion is not a joyous custom in Sirensong. The denizens worship the sea fearfully, appeasing it with gifts and sacrifices.

The mayor of the village is Robert Morrow, a stern retired sailor. Villagers whisper that he lost his whole crew at sea, turning him into the solemn man he is today.

The citizens are apathetic towards Cordy's arrival. Like the tide, visitors come and go, never staying for long. They are not optimistic that he will remain.

The first person Cordy meets is Marcus, one of the market vendors who tries to maintain an upbeat attitude in the overwhelmingly morose atmosphere of Sirensong.

Season #3: Fall

Here are the opening questions answered for this season:

The sea offers little in return this season. The villagers have no harvest to celebrate.

In an effort to quell the ocean's displeasure, the people of Sirensong give up what little possessions they have to the waves. Even the dead are offered up, with the people hoping that providing the wildlife nourishment will increase nature's bounty.

Much like Sirensong, Cordy's harvest is nonexistent. He has sacrificed a place he loved and called home to move to this gloomy town.

Time to reshuffle and start the events for this season!

Fall #1:

Event - You are offered a new path in life by a strange hooded figure. Do you take them up on it?

Dice result - 4 (success)

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

Cordy had not expected to receive any visitors yet. He had yet to advertise his services, as he was still in the process of unpacking and setting up shop. However, a visitor came to him unannounced. Cordy only spotted them out of the periphery of his vision. Their footsteps made no sound and they said nothing to reveal their presence. Cordy was also silent in response, eying the nondescript person up and down. Who was this? What did they want with him?

The cloaked figure extended a bony hand and called out in a raspy voice.

"Young necromancer, I offer you a new path. The true path. Give up your foolish magicks. Offer yourself to the sea. She will reward you generously in her depths. Come, take my hand. I will show you the way to enlightment."

But Cordy stood his ground and shook his head. He knew his purpose in life, and it was not sacrifice himself to the waves. He still had so much to give this village--to show them the joy of life.

Although he could not read the visitor's face, Cordy felt their aura darken. The hand retracted coldly.

"Very well...you will see the truth soon enough."

Cordy blinked and the figure vanished. A chill ran down the necromancer's spine. A foreboding welcome to Sirensong--hopefully this would not set the tone for his time here.

Fall #2:

Event - You have a dream of the location of a magical artifact. What is it? Where is it? Do you retrieve it?

Result - 1 (fail)

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

As sleep took Cordy this evening, he received a dream. More accurately, a vision. Swirling out of the fog of his mind was the image of an amulet with a glowing, azure-tinted jewel. The vision flashed again and he saw a grotto containing piles upon piles of abandoned treasure, the necklace laying in its midst.

He felt himself awake, although not entirely. He felt himself rise from bed as he felt a tug towards the back of the cavern. His mind was no longer control of his body--he was sleepwalking.

He lurched along, entering unexplored reaches of his cavernous home. After walking what felt like hours through the labyrinthine passages, he arrived at the destination he saw in his dream. Although there was mountains of untold riches--enough for Cordy to live comfortably for the rest of the days--he ignored them entirely. His purpose was singular: find the amulet. He kneeled at the pile of treasure and began to dig methodically through the gold and trinkets until the necklace was in his clutches.

Another compulsion overtook him: he must place the necklace around his neck. As he did so, he pulled the jeweled centerpiece close to his ear. His mind was filled again--this time with quiet, muffled singing.

Oh, how the song was so beautiful--but oh so distant. Too distant. The enthralled mushroom boy simply had to get closer.

He began to make his way back from whence he came--that's where the enchanting tune seemed to be coming from. As he did so, the melody began to gradually grow louder. He exited the mouth of the cave, and the singing swelled into a crescendo. But still, it was not enough. He needed to be even nearer. And there was only one way to do so: go into the sea.

And so, he walked. The waves lapped around his ankles. Then, his knees were submerged. He continued, the water now coming up to his waist. Although logic pleaded with him to turn back, the cries were drowned out by the enrapturing melody. The saltwater now came up his chin. Forward. Forward. He must press forward. Finally, the top of his head descended into the deep.

The night passes silently. Dawn approaches, but Cordy does not emerge. The poor boy had succumbed to the Jewel of the Siren's Song.

The tide comes and goes in Sirensong, and life continues on.

Ending

While we haven't reached the end of the seasons, I feel like I should cut the game here. Although I am sad for Cordy's misfortune--the dice and cards seemed to be working against him the whole game--it feels narratively appropriately for his story to end here. However, endings are only temporary for necromancers, right?

The game does have some wrap-up questions, however, I am opting to skip them for this conclusion. Curious about what they are? Looks like you'll have to check out the game for yourself ;)

Final Thoughts

I was worried that this game would have been too similar to my experience playing Village Witch, however, the flavor was unique enough to separate the two games. I'm glad I opted to use the dice roll rule--it really helped me shape how I answered each prompt. Next time I play, I'll try not to be so morbid and make it through all of the seasons (because yes, I'll definitely want to play this game again).

I know this is a long one, but thanks for reading! I hope to be back soon with another solo game to explore.

#solo ttrpg #journaling ttrpg #indie ttrpg #VillageNecromancer

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grumpygreenwitch · 8 months ago

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The Witches and Wizards Job 34-35-36

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THIRTY FOUR

Nate closed his eyes for a moment in the dark.

They had the real portrait, for now.

They had the real Grandmother, for now.

They had Koschei, upstairs, for now.

But the first was going to cost them Parker, the second Eliot and the third Dresden, and at that point the cost got way too high for any con to be feasible. "Hardison," he said at last, beginning to move once again. "Endgame."

"Wh- I'm not ready, Nate!"

"Be ready. Sophie, Fedorov, go make sure our consultant stays in one piece. More or less. I need to borrow your bodyguard for a second, Fedorov."

"Oh, sure, give us the easy job," Sophie shot at him.

"Well, you gave him to me," the Russian agreed easily, looking mildly intrigued. "I suppose you're free to take him back. Are you looking for your thief?"

"Parker?" Nate seemed nothing if not puzzled at the question. "No, she's fine. She just got too close to something that fried her earbud which, you know. Inconvenient. No, I just don't want the Blackbird to know Nick exists. Yet."

Nick's grin broadened in delight at that. "Oh, you understand ambushes. I like you."

"That is slightly terrifying coming from you," the mastermind admitted cheerfully as the group split up. "Eliot, the non-negotiable factor."

"Yeah, I got her." The hitter had slipped into the mansion's vast basement without a problem; it was the one place where there were no visible guards. It was a vast, echoing space, a little dusty but overall in good order. He could see plenty of lights over his head when he shone his phone's flashlight up. Several smaller spaces had been partitioned out: a pantry, a cava, a corner full of totes marked 'Christmas', 'Halloween', 'Easter' and so on. It was also one of the few rooms that betrayed the house's age: salt streaked the concrete walls. There was a good reason why most houses along the New England coastline didn't have basements; once you got inland, sure. But where the land had been stolen from the ocean, the ocean was ever eager to reclaim it, one drop at a time if need be.

He'd found the room behind the old cast iron furnace and its piping, which had been disconnected but never removed. It was one of the few rooms that, like the cava, showed signs that care had gone into its construction, the walls solid when he ran a hand over them. Eliot guessed it was a man-cave of some sort. Light came in from under the door, a steady golden glow which he figured came from the glow-sticks the leshy favored. He could hear the rough, gravelly voices of the leshy and the more familiar Russian speech of the humans with them. The light, the hitter knew, was for their benefit; the leshy couldn't fully see in the dark, but it also didn't hamper them. He counted voices, and steps, walked back to the cava and the pantry, prepared his weapon of choice, took off the earbud and the earclip with the mirror shard, and walked right back to the door, knocking jauntily on it. "Tea service!"

The voices on the other side went silent. "We asked for nothing," someone replied.

"Look, man, I just know I have wine, cheese, some of them lil' toast things, a whole spread of jams -"

The door opened a crack. A man stared out, mouth open and ready to take Eliot's head off, metaphorically, until he saw the massive tray and the two bottles of wine the hitter was carrying.

A leshy came up behind the man, growling quietly. It, too, paused, sniffing. Eliot lifted up the tray, where he'd painstakingly smeared every sweet jam he'd been able to find in the pantry, and grinned winningly. Man and leshy crossed a look, and the door opened all the way. Eliot passed the human one of the wine bottles, winked and stepped in. The door closed behind him.

Two broken bottles, a dented tray, an utterly thrashed room and eight unconscious thugs later, the hitter knocked politely on the bathroom door. "Ma'am? You there?"

The door opened a crack. "That sounded very exciting."

"It gets the blood flowing," Eliot admitted as the old woman stepped out. She could've just as easily been stepping down from the portrait, stern and austere, though there was an odd fragility to her that was not part of Sokolov's work. Her silver hair was neatly braided back and she wore an elegantly simple white blouse with little golden mice for buttons, a flaring skirt with a repeating pattern of dancing farmfolk, and a black knotwork shawl. She glanced appreciatively at two leshy embedded into one of the walls as Eliot escorted her out of the bathroom and through the ruins of the room, and then clung to his arm with a small, very ladylike swear.

"Are you alright?"

She attempted a smile. "He has taken much from me," she admitted. "I did not realize how much until he trapped me. Arrogance makes fools of the best of us." She shrugged a little. One of the thugs groaned, sprawled among the wreck of a low shelf and a scattering of movies. Without missing a beat she aimed one of her sensibly-clad feet and kicked him hard enough to bowl him over and knock him out once again. "What now?"

Eliot managed to stop staring long enough to dig in his pocket for the enchanted mirror shard and clip it back on his ear. "I've got Grandmother, Nate."

"Give it to her."

"Got it." Eliot reached into an inner pocket of his dress jacket and smiled at the old woman. "Got something for you, ma'am. I believe it's yours to begin with." He offered her a plain, coarse square of blue fabric, neatly folded, and she stared at it and him in surprise and keen interest. "So, here's the plan."

While Eliot escorted his precious cargo away, mister Alexander Worthington (the Third), drove back up the driveway to the front of the mansion, yelling to all and sundry as well as at the person on the other line that he did not want to be there, he did not need to be there, he had no reason or goal to be there, not with every portrait being a fake and the seller being a con man - and a bad one, at that. He yelled a brief bout of angry Russian into the phone before hanging up and trotting furiously up the stairs. The guards on duty could scarcely believe their good luck, but they were also not about to question it, even when the Brit switched from whining on the phone to whining at them about everything and anything, the portrait failing to be produced, the outlandish nature of the company, the buffet being a joke. Coming in to find the mansion subsumed in complete darkness did nothing to appease him. He was escorted back to the main room and was there all of ten seconds before disappearing into the dark guts of the house.

They had been told, after all, to keep people in, not out. And mister Worthington (the Third) had been invited.

But only Sophie and Fedorov were close enough to the room on the top floor of the mansion to hear when Harry screamed in pain. She went very still with a little gasp; the Russian enforcer instinctively reached for his gun, and she immediately reached out to put a quelling hand over his. "That won't help," she assured him quietly. "He knew this would happen."

"That does not make me willing to let it," he countered tightly, but he drew his hand away.

"We're not going to let it," she assured him. "I need you to wait out here until it's time for you to come in."

"And how will I know when it is time?"

She smiled a little at him. "Parker will tell you," she assured him, and stepped gracefully away to knock on the room's door.

THIRTY FIVE

Koschei stalked into my room surrounded by half a dozen guards and a single floating source of pale green light. One of the guards was tugging Parker's friend along; she looked pale and terrified, and a little angry. Then again, I was probably all of those things myself, I just had more practice hiding them. "Is this how you treat your guests, Blackbird? Who's your friend?"

He didn't seem to hear my taunt. He rushed over, picked me up by the front of the very nice shirt and vest I was wearing, and lifted me up. He was about my height, which made him taller than the average person, and I was sure he had plenty of muscle to pick people up right off their their feet. But I was just tall enough, just heavy enough, that he couldn't quite pull the trick on me. "What did you do, Dresden," he snarled at me, and it wasn't really a question.

Golly, the list was endless, and I wasn't about to give him even one breath of it without a fight. "Getting a little grabby, aren't we? I don't know what you mean."

"I mean my guests are tearing this place apart down there. I mean my associates think I tried to poison them just now. I mean the Dredgers think I've stolen from them! I mean," he leaned closer until we were barely dodging a Soulgaze, him and me, "that it took me three tries to create the bloody light, so what. did you. do."

"To be fair, you did steal from them."

He dropped me like a sack of flour. "Stone," he said, "disarm him."

His head of security moved forward, but it was one of the guards who'd brought me up to the room who sucker-punched me, driving all the breath right out of me and setting the bruise the leshy had given me to red-hot throbbing pain. I went down on one knee but they pulled me back up, which made my bad shoulder really sing, and they frisked me down with ruthless efficiency. By the time someone dumped me back on my chair they'd taken my staff, my wand, both bracelets, my wallet. They even took off my duster before zip-tying my hands behind the back of the chair. Someone put their hands on me and tried to take my pentacle bracelet, and my anger suddenly came flooding back, helping me gather my scattered wits. I saw the guard kneeling in front of me and snapped my head forward. Forehead to nose, not nose to nose, Eliot had told me, and I tried to remember that.

It was a little harder when I knew the nose I was aiming for wasn't there, but the crunch of the glamour nose was still deeply satisfying. The guard staggered and fell back. Heavy hands yanked me back to the seat and I got punched again, but nothing was going to take away my satisfaction. I heard Jessamine make a little squeak of terror, and then someone shoved her in a chair next to me. "Are you alright?" she whispered at me.

"I've been better," I admitted, trying to get my breath back. Someone had tied my thumbs and index fingers together - while magic was a matter of will and intent, most wizards were trained to use tools, words and gestures to focus their power, like my staff, the bracelets. The words I used were mostly nonsense, but they made sense to me. And while I didn't often use my bare hands, I did tend to fall back on gestures when I didn't have access to anything else. Obviously Koschei knew that as well as I did. I started to work as best I could on tightening the zip-tie further; it wasn't much.

Someone caught my head in a rough grip and yanked the earclip off, handing it off to Koschei. "What is this?" he demanded, sniffing it. "Why does it smell fam-" The most painful feedback sound came out of the earclip and everyone in the room cringed. Koschei threw the earclip on the table along with everything else. "A machine, Dresden? Really?"

"Well, you know, any port in a storm and all that." I had to admire the quick-thinking of Alec-not-a-burger-Hardison. I could think of no better way to disguise the little mirror shard than making it act like the piece of technology it definitely wasn't.

"Well. That tells one much about your magic, does it not," he declared scornfully, flicking his fingers. The guards left me alone. Someone brought him a chair and he sat before me, fussing with his robe first, then with the items his goons had taken from me. "Toys." He rolled my wand between his fingers, and then pocketed it, the asshole. "Scraps. You are many things, Dresden, but I hesitate to even call you a wizard."

He hadn't taken the pin on the collar of my shirt, or my necklace. He hadn't caught onto the shirt.

"Now, what did you do with my painting?"

"Portrait."

His magic hit me hard and fast, like talons closing around my heart and squeezing, slow and relentless. The pain was immediate, burning like acid. I've had worse, but I wasn't about to let him know that. I made what I figured were appropriate noises for someone being tortured. Fortunately, I've had a lot of experience on what that sounds like.

"I have had my patience thoroughly tried tonight, Dresden. It would behoove you to indulge me." He let go of me and smiled that grin that made me want to punch him. "Unless you want the young lady to know what it feels like to disagree with me."

"You won't hurt her. You need her." I grinned at him, but I could feel it in my face, it wasn't friendly.

"I didn't do anything," Jessamine breathed, frightened. Apparently I'd done my job so well I'd spooked the angry right out of her. Time to give her back some agency.

"He can't tell his own portrait from the fakes. He n-" The vise closed around my heart and my lungs, boiling venom, crushing harder this time. "Needs you to make sure he's got the real one," I gritted out, teeth bared at Koschei.

"I am sincerely wondering if you are worth the trouble of keeping you alive, Dresden."

"Get in line, you old bird. You think tonight ends with you winning? You've lost everything. You filled this house with fake portraits, and now you can't tell yours from the copies. The Dredgers know you cheated them. Some of the most powerful people in the European and Asian supernatural underworlds think you were out to kill them. I don't know what you were after but man, you're certainly raking up some heavy-duty debts in the process, aren't you? Can't wait to see you try to squirm out of them-"

Unsurprisingly, he struck again. This time his power locked not just around my heart but my lungs, up my throat. I could taste the foulness of it on the back of my mouth, blackest magic. I heard myself scream, blowing air out of my lungs just to try and get some of the foulness out with it. "I will tell them you did it," he declared blithely. "You will not be around to defend yourself, of course."

"Leave him alone!" Jessamine yelled at him.

There was a knock on the door. Koschei let me go and stood up, and I heard him speaking to the guards. There was a sense of wary readiness in the air that made the hair on my arms stand up on end. A guard opened the door while Koschei faced it.

It's hard to explain the quality anyone's talking about when they say that something shines with the darkest light. It's a radiance that both brings details out of something while terrifying you with the sum total of them. It's the light you see from the darkest fairies, the glow around them that replaces the golden, summery haze of their counterparts.

That light, that darkest radiance, filled the door and spilled into the room. The guards all took a step back; Koschei took two and squeaked like a toddler. Fear and cold came in with the woman who stepped through the door. "So this is where you are hiding," she purred in a tone of such menace that I felt cold sweat break out along my spine, and I wasn't even the one she was talking to.

I'd wrought a hell of a Veil, but it wasn't just that. It was the way she spoke, the way she moved, the way she wore it. Sophie stepped into that room and she was Ekaterina Yegorov, an unknown supernatural power, a thing both beautiful and terrible, worthy of Tolkien's every written word.

"Hiding -" Koschei had to clear his throat before he could continue. "Hiding is such a strong accusation, my good lady."

She merely glided in, glancing disdainfully at the guards, who backed away nervously. "Why are you in the dark?" she demanded, flicked her fingers. On cue, the lights in the room -and only in the room- came back to bright and beautiful life.

No one there could make sense of her. The guards didn't even dare look at her directly. Koschei was still trying to figure out what she was; without that knowledge he couldn't shape a defense, a counter. "Hiding," she repeated. "Do you think disappearing will save you? After you tried to kill us all? The vampire down there is already offering a blood price on your head." She smiled. "Perhaps it will do tricks and tell prophecies. A man's head is so much more useful when separated from the body."

"My body is quite useful to me, madam, and I am rather fond of it," he declared tightly.

"Perhaps you should have thought of that before you stole Batra's pet and cheated the Dredgers. I am becoming hard-pressed to think of someone you have not upset in this house."

"You," he replied without missing a beat.

She stared at him for a brief moment… and then laughed, soft and rich and deadly. "Me," she agreed in a tiger's sated purr. "Though I am no more pleased about that trick with the Witchwell than anyone else."

"I swear on my heart, madam, that was not my doing."

"Whose, then?" She tipped her chin disdainfully in my direction. "His?" When Koschei opened his mouth she added. "Do not lie to me, wizard. You hang from a very thin thread as it is."

"No," Koschei admitted, and it was obvious to anyone with eyes that it cost him to do so. "Though that is what I mean to tell the rest of the gathering. But my people have reported that it is very likely the Prince of Thieves is inside the house."

She scoffed elegantly. "Seeking what? Fascinating as all the oddities here are, that is all they are. Oddities. Only the portrait would be worth anything to a mortal, and he would not be able to tell it apart from the fakes any more than you can."

"I believe she is in cahoots with Dresden."

"She? The Prince of Thieves is a woman?" The unknown power facing Koschei mulled on that, seemingly the only thing he'd said that had surprised her, and smiled minutely. "Well, finally the job goes to someone worth the title. But what does that have to do with anything?"

"Dresden put a marker on the portrait. A childish scrawl. I believe she's using it, he's empowered her to detect it in some fashion."

"Then use it yourself."

Koschei scowled at me and I grinned the biggest grin I could. "He can't. He tried, and then he realized that he couldn't keep it under wraps because I made it in a hurry and it's sloppy as hell, bleeding power everywhere. Everyone downstairs would sniff it out along with him if he kept it active." There were times when not having a fine touch with magic could come in so handy. "You think he's got a target painted on his back right now? That portrait's gonna be a neon arrow pointed at his head no matter where he goes with it."

She blew out an exasperated breath. "I do not care to wait until you are in pieces or in possession of the portrait, one or the other," she declared archly. "I need access to the gate it hides, and it is a critical matter."

"I am afraid, madam -"

"You should be." She stepped into his space and glowered briefly. "Send your men to bring all the portraits here. You have the foremost Sokolov expert in the room, you have angered a very powerful creature to get her here. Use her, be done with her and start soothing some tempers by handing back what things you can give back. Or do you expect the Prince of Thieves can steal a portrait that size while you're in the same room with it?"

"Even if I did, I could not open the gate for you!" he protested. "I have been unable to recover the key -"

"Oh, the key Vanya promised you?" she interrupted him sweetly, reaching down her cleavage and pulling out the platinum key. "This key?"

Koschei's mouth worked soundlessly a few times. He surged forward but she'd already tucked the key back under the folds of the dress, and she cocked a single brow at him.

He stopped.

She stepped forward, closer, until she could reach out and brush the lapels of the Blackbird's old-fashioned coat. Until the Rosalind diamond just barely brushed the fine black fabric. He went so pale he looked like a fresh corpse. "Have your men gather the portraits. I do not care where. You should not care where, as long as you have her." She nodded toward Jessamine. "I must have access to that gate before sunrise. After that, I do not care what you do, here or anywhere else. I do not care how you deal with your guests, or how they deal with you. I have one care, wizard. It is not a hard one to indulge, not given what I am willing to pay for it, yes?"

She stepped away then, and I saw Koschei reel, as did most people who were ever on the receiving end of Sophie Deveraux's talents.

Someone knocked on the door again. "Oh, that is for me," she told the guards cheerfully, and flicked her fingers at them. "Well, open it."

They obeyed before Koschei could say anything; that's the way with the sort of thug the Russian wizard preferred: not too bright, really good at violence, nearly indestructible but very much keyed to instinctively respond to the authority of the biggest power in the room.

I caught my breath. Parker stepped in, her hands laced over her head, angry and stone-faced, dressed all in skin-tight black. Just behind her, gun leveled at the base of her skull, Fedorov chivvied the thief into the room. "Kate, are you - ah, you did find him," he declared casually.

This was not the plan. None of it was part of any of the plans Ford had explained to me. I was feeling the loss of the ear-clip keenly; the only reason I could tell this was still a plan of some sort was that no one who should be was actually upset.

"Iggy!" Jessamin cried out, lunging out of her chair. One of the guards slammed her back on it none too gently.

"Hey!" Parker surged forward.

"No," the third woman in the room purred, and the thief went down like a puppet with her strings cut.

Ok, so yes, it was a plan of some sort, one I didn't know about, but I still tried to launch myself to my feet all the same. I nearly took the chair down to the floor with me.

Fedorov tipped his gun back, examined Parker, and grinned a little as he holstered it. "Show-off."

"Flatterer," she replied.

Fedorov and one of the guards brought Parker to another chair. They frisked her, found nothing beyond her phone and the non-working earbud in a pocket. "Hands in front," Koschei said when someone broke out the zip ties. "Where we can see them. One should never bind a thief's hands out of sight." He looked daunted and, looking at from his point of view, I couldn't blame him; here was a wizard as deeply attuned to the currents of magic all around him as any I'd ever met. It took that particular awareness to be able to pull off all of the magic I'd seen him work. But he wouldn't have seen anything from miss Ekaterina Yegorov. Not a breath, not a whisper, not a sigh of magic, not one single detectable little thread of energy. She'd spoken one word and the Prince of Thieves had gone down, just like that. The only possible conclusion one could draw was that she was operating way, way out of his league, a house on fire compared to his little candle.

"Thief?" Jessamine squeaked.

"Long story," Parker mumbled.

"Is Isabelle even your real name?" the young curator cried out in despair.

I saw Parker's face crumple with very real hurt. There was crap-all I could do at the moment to help her, and it made my heart hurt just as much, so I did the only thing I could - I stuck to the plan and started laughing. It's not hard; I've done my share of it when staring death or worse in the face. I knew the sound of it, I knew where it came from. I had to force it a little at the beginning, but once it got going it flowed naturally out, along with all the pain and the anger.

"What," Koschei gritted out, "are you laughing at, Dresden?"

"You," I admitted. "You and your best laid plans. You need her," I tipped my head at Jessamine, "to cooperate. The only way you're gonna get that is if you threaten her friend, so you need her," I tipped my head at Parker. "And since she's not about to tell you where the painting actually is, you need me." I beamed at him. "Ain't life a bitch. Just when you thought you finally got to kill someone."

"The night is young," the Russian wizard hissed at me.

"Maybe. But three people already found you, all cozy up here with me. How long until one of Batra's dryads sniffs you out? Or Ying Ying? I'm surprised the Dredgers aren't here already. How many guards you got willing to tangle with Mister Act and his people?" Every word was a blow that Koschei couldn't dodge, couldn't block, couldn't defend against. He'd been left primed for it, and I could only hope I was helping the plan, not hindering it.

"Mister Stone," the Blackbird said at last. "Get your people together and round up all the portraits. Bring them to the boat-house."

Stone did a nearly-visible head count before turning to his boss, his tone dubious. "All of them, sir?"

Koschei paused; his own head count was a little less obvious. "Well, the two in the main room are fakes, those can stay behind. And bring the wizard, I do not trust him out of sight." He clamped a hand on Jessamine's arm and dragged her up, his tone going to utter cordiality. "Mister Fedorov, could I possibly impose on you to bring the young lady with you?" He tipped his head at Parker. "We will further tie her up if you believe it will help."

"What's there is enough," the Russian enforcer declared blithely, moving over to Parker and tossing her over his shoulder like a sack of laundry. "I trust the lady whose protection I'm under." He grinned winningly at said lady, who beamed at him.

Stone, having finished instructing the rest of his people, moved over to me, closed a hand on the back of the chair and picked it up, with me in it. I knew instantly he was going to be a severe problem down the line; strength is not an uncommon attribute in Nevernever thugs, but Stone hadn't even paused to take a breath or brace himself. He'd simply done as he was told. I looked more closely at him, since I was being given the chance, looking for confirmation; I was pretty sure his clothes weren't painted on, but he hadn't been so close to me until that moment.

The clothes were real, well fitted, custom-made - not surprising, the man was too big to fit in anything off the rack. It was as he shifted to wrap his free arm around me so I couldn't jostle out of the chair that his sleeve hiked up, just a bit. Just enough for me to see that there were no wrinkles where his wrist was bending, no hair, no definition to his knuckles. His nails were engraved - they looked real from afar, but I was less than a foot away.

Well, crap. I started running down the list of any magic I knew that could scratch a golem, let alone take one down, as we left the room and moved through the darkened hallways, led by Koschei's pale light spell. It was a really short list and I didn't have any angelic swords at hand or dragon's blood on tap.

"Let's keep in mind I need to breathe, Stone, alright?" I told him when his arm tightened a little too much over my sore ribs.

"Let us keep in mind that I do not care, wizard," he replied indifferently, considering the chair and tossing it carelessly aside in favor of throwing me over his shoulder, like Fedorov was carrying Parker, except he hung me with my head facing his chest.

"Gosh, who spit in your cornflakes? Is Koschei holding your keystone hostage or something?"

The golem didn't hesitate. "My keystone is my own. The cornflakes, you can keep."

"Oh, hey! I didn't think golems had a sense of humor."

"Lacking one yourself, I see how you would not recognize one."

I wasn't just talking to get him to talk at that point, I was honestly astonished. "You're old."

He did glance down at me at that, as if detecting the honesty of emotion in my voice, and why wouldn't he? I'd never even heard of a golem capable of independent action, or thought. To have one that also had a sense of wit and levity was mind-boggling. "Age and craftsmanship," he admitted.

"And you waste it all working for him."

"I enjoy service. I do not see the point of ethics or morals. The first is for everyone. The others are mortal fripperies."

I wasn't going to win that argument, not with a golem. "But, that aside, why? Why the Blackbird?"

"He promised I would be challenged." The golem looked down at me once more, then ahead once again. "And I have been."

We got out of the mansion with no one the wiser, though it sounded like the scuffle that had started in the main room had spilled over past the bar and into the dinning room. There were just too many disparate powers gathered all together in a single place; most of the time there was no violence between them because their interests didn't cross paths, and if the auction had gone along as the Dredgers had planned, they never would have. But Koschei and his games had made them all linger. The Blackbird had no one to blame but himself for the mess that he'd brewed.

Hanging there, over a shoulder as broad and solid as a rock, I came to an abrupt realization: I'd been there before. Many times, actually. I was either famous or infamous, depending on who you ask, for throwing myself off the deep end and into the thick of my enemies, and hoping I could wade back out. Most of the time I'd managed, but I usually limped out exhausted, bloody and battered, and there were losses, in friendship, in love, in trust, that were so great they were injuries in their own right.

Koschei was a power that should have left me in that kind of shape. Hell, that roomful of people back at the mansion would've probably loved to take me apart one piece at a time. I had no idea what sort of relationship the Jade and Red Courts had, but I'd never met a vampire that would've passed up the opportunity to get a little debt owed to them from another vamp, and I know the fairy twins would have loved to have me on a leash, because that was just a thing with every fairy in my life barring one.

But there I was. Barring the fact I was hogtied, or that Koschei had taken most of my tools away, I was literally brimming with power, relatively in one piece, and what injuries I did have had been tended to. I still had two aces up my sleeve, three if you counted my pendant, which had come clutch in so many occasions that I really ought to start putting it at the top of the list.

I was as good for the fight as it got, and I had the Leverage people to thank for it. For the time to prep, for the research, for the tools, but above all for covering the bases I couldn't. Good as I was at fighting magic with magic, there was still only one of me. With Leverage, it didn't matter if the leshy came at me or someone tried to rob me or if I couldn't make sense of the puzzle pieces, or if they were all to be found in the electronic ether. These people had a phalanx formation that they'd refined to perfection, and they'd made me part of it without missing a step. It felt both nice and terrifying. Imagine what I'd be able to do with a team like them backing me up. Imagine what they could pull off with a wizard on their corner.

But I also knew it was not a tenable situation. It wasn't just Hardison; we were actually working together just fine, him and me. The language and the tools might be different, but we were both doing basically the same job. It was Ford, who try as he might still couldn't quite get to the believing part. It was Sophie, who thought she needed magic to pull off a grift when really, she didn't. It was Eliot, going up against a golem. It was all of them, running into a Burning Witchwell if I'd arrived in Boston a day late.

It was Boston, burning me to cinders and brushing me off her hands without a second thought. A city can't help what it is. I was Chicago's wizard, I knew my city, its moods, its weather, its seasons, the things about it that empowered me, strengthened me. Did Boston deserve a wizard of its own? Absolutely. It had to be someone better than me at self-control. Swinging power like I did in Boston would get me killed sooner rather than later, and it wouldn't even take a bad guy.

I heard the sound of the surf and became aware of the nearby press of the North Atlantic. I'd expected it to be a grounding influence, like Lake Michigan, but instead it seethed with dormant, subtle layers of power, restive and waiting. Then we were in the boat-house, an elegant single-story house done in that marine kitschy style that says an interior designer got paid very well and no one actually lived in the premises. The open wrap-around porch surrounded two sides of the boat-house, reaching for the stirring surf. Off to one side a dock had been partially dug out, lined with rip-rap and attached to the boat-house like an oversized closed garage. There were two yachts docked there, and an assortment of smaller craft pinned against the walls.

Fedorov automatically tried to flip on the light switches by the door, but nothing happened. A murmur and a gesture from Sophie, and the lights were on.

"You really must tell me how you are doing that." Koschei smiled at her as he walked in, dismissing his own light spell and clapping his hands so every door in the boat-house swung open.

"I asked the little voice in my head for help," she told him with a graceful gesture.

He gave her a strained, polite little chuckle. "Mister Stone, take the rest of our guests to the boat-house. If they give you any trouble, drown them a little."

"Hey!" Jessamine protested.

"Oh, no, not you, my dear," Koschei had clamped his hand around one of her arms, and dragged her back to him none too gently. "The drowning bit is just for Dresden and the princess."

"How do you even drown someone just a little?" Parker muttered.

"Not the question to be asking present company," I replied as Stone took a few steps onto the docks, making them groan with his weight, and threw me down onto the boards roughly. I rolled onto my good shoulder to try and protect myself, and Parker got tossed right on top of me, driving the rest of my breath out.

I felt her brush her hands against mine and suddenly the mage-knot binding the thumb and index of my good hand was gone; I felt her press something familiar against my palm before Stone put his foot against her side and shoved her off to one side.

Seriously, HOW?!

I slid my wand up my sleeve, closed my good hand into a fist over my shield bracelet and decided not to question it. Magic is magic.

"Why?" She countered immediately.

"Because mister Stone might actually oblige with a demonstration, and he doesn't need to breathe."

Parker looked up. The golem looked implacably down. "Oh." She scooted to sit next to me as I dragged myself up, and we both leaned against one another. "He's not really gonna hurt Jess, is he?"

"No, he needs her. He may bluff her, he may scare her, but it doesn't profit him to hurt her. He might hurt you to scare her, though."

Fedorov chuckled a little. "The wizard is not being fully truthful with you."

Parker looked up at me, then at him, then at me again. "Harry?"

I hadn't wanted to say it, but the Russian wasn't leaving me a choice. "He might also hurt you to get to me," I had to admit. "Because the only one who knows where the original is, if Stone's people can't find it, is you. And if you won't tell him -" she scoffed pointedly "- the only one who can safely locate it by the marker on it is me."

She frowned. She looked up at Stone. "What if I tell you where it is?"

"Parker!"

"That would -" the golem began.

I kicked at Stone's shin. It was a moot effort; I knew it and he knew it. I might as well be kicking a piece of concrete. Stone bent down, picked me up by the throat, and let me hang there, unable to breathe and my feet a good few inches off the dock, while he continued speaking in the same calm tone. "That would make matters go faster."

"Faster meaning you and Dresden will die quicker," Fedorov pointed casually.

"But he'll let Jess go?"

I kicked at her. I was two lengths of my leg too far, but dammit, Parker!

"Untrue." Stone leveled an even gaze on Fedorov, then shook me a little, until starbursts of blackness began to swim in front of my eyes, the rest of me tingling unpleasantly. Ok, ok, no more kicking. "It profits him immensely to return miss Lochlin to mister Batra unharmed. It profits him reasonably to have the Prince of Thieves, you, owe him a life-debt." He turned to look at me. "The wizard, he almost certainly will kill."

"No! You go tell him I will tell him where the original is, but he's got to let us all go, Jess and Harry and me! All of us!"

Fedorov and Stone crossed a look. The Russian enforcer looked as dubious as he was amused.

"Why are you here?" the golem suddenly asked Fedorov.

The Russian aimed a thumb at the inside of the boat-house. " The lady promised me an interesting night. My safety was guaranteed." The boards where we were all standing creaked and groaned once again, and Fedorov looked down, then up at Stone with open curiosity. "Should I worry her?"

The world was beginning to blur into colors without shape when Stone let my feet touch the ground again. "Mind yourself, wizard," he warned me, and shoved me down. I went sprawling on my back, landing on my zip-tied hands with all of my weight. Stone bent down and picked up Parker by the front of her skin-tight black sweater, and threw her over a shoulder.

"Hey!"

"Mind the wizard, please," the golem told Fedorov. "He has a bodyguard and no one seems to be able to tell me where he's gone off to." When the Russian gestured agreeably, Stone went into the house.

I laid there for a long moment, examining my circumstances, considering my options and mostly just getting my breath back. "You could've let me lie to her," I told Fedorov.

"I could," he admitted. "But I am coming to realize a lie of kindness is no better than any other lie."

"I'm not her uncle."

He snorted in humorless amusement. "No. But you are her friend. Respect what she has given you."

I had no good answer to that, because he was right. Every time I hid something from the people around me, every time I lied or kept secrets, my friends, the people I cared about, those who depended on me, ended up in trouble, or hurt, or worse. And there was a lot worse in my world that hurt or dead. So I just laid there, staring up at the beams of the open ceiling in the boat-house, with nets keeping floats and boards and kayaks and paddles safe.

The door to the boat-house opened again and Koschei stalked out, dragging Jessamine with him. Behind him came Stone and Parker, the golem stepping carefully on the boards of the dock. trying to keep the complaining from the wood to a minimum, not that it helped. Behind them all came the beautiful, deadly woman in the indigo dress, who moved immediately to Fedorov's side. The wizard was back to his tooth-rottingly cheerful self. "It is a promise easily given, easily kept," he assured Parker. "Give me the original, prove that it is the original, and all three of you can leave safe and sound at once."

"Parker, it's a tr-"

Koschei turned and whipped a hand at me, and his power choked the voice right out of my throat. It didn't matter, she was far too quick for it. "What does he mean it's a trap?"

"How would I know?" Koschei replied archly. "You have what you asked for, after all, no?" He spread his arms. "I am being very generous, all things considered. You have stolen from me, after all. I could just pry the knowledge out of your head and be done with it."

I saw her chew restlessly on her lip, but without the ear bud I didn't know if there was an ongoing plan, if she was winging things, if everything was going to hell in a handbasket. Jessamine looked both frightened and mutinous, but she wasn't making a peep.

"You'll let all three of us go. You won't do anything to stop us, or to hurt us."

"On my power I swear it. Provided you deliver the correct portrait to me."

"And you won't have anyone else stop us or hurt us, either, like him, or them." She gestured at Stone, then glowered at the Russian mobster and his companion.

"Ah, clever princess," Koschei smiled. "They will not." He glanced back. "I'm not even entirely sure while the young prince is still here."

"We're still willing to put a bid on the portrait," Fedorov assured him mildly, tucking his hands in his pockets. "Unless you have decided not to sell?"

"Oh, no, no, I prefer to keep that portrait as far away from my person as possible."

I wanted to yell. I wanted to scream the obvious trap at her. I wanted to launch myself at Koschei and shake that smarmy, condescending smirk off his face. But he had Jessamine, Stone had Parker, and I was choking on black, poisonous magic. Not to mention I had every reason to believe this was still part of Ford's plan, whatever that plan might be, but without my ear clip or Parker's bud I had no way of knowing if we'd gone off the rails half a dozen death threats back. I was about ready to sell my soul, or at least a kidney, for any information.

That was when Nate Ford stepped out of one of the yachts and hopped lightly down onto the dock, and I realized I hadn't been worried enough before. "Well, you're in luck," he said mildly, a slightly rumpled, harmless-looking man. "Because it's not even on the grounds anymore."

THIRTY SIX

You ever get that feeling in the pit of your stomach, when you thought you knew the shape of your life, the world and everything else, and then one little thing goes out of whack and the entire house of cards comes tumbling down?

It felt a little like that, watching Ford come up on us. Though from the look on Koschei's face, he was feeling a whole lot more of it. "You." For a moment I wished I could pack all the conflicting emotions the Russian wizard put into the one tiny word, but then again that would mean I'd fucked up nearly as badly as he had and you know what? I was good.

"Me," Ford agreed, walking up calmly. "The sensible one, you said."

"I am allowed an occasional lapse in judgement." Koschei was trying hard to stick to that smarmy avuncular cheer but it was cracking hard at the seams.

"Are you? 'Cuz you've piled up, uh, a number of lapses tonight -"

"Where is my painting?"

"A painting," Ford replied, "is just about any sort of paint you put on a medium. Canvas, paper, wood. A portrait is specifically a painting of a person, or persons."

"I am aware of the difference," Koschei ground out.

"Are you?" Nate nodded politely at Fedorov and Sophie. They both nodded back minutely. He gave me a very level look where I was, still sprawled on the boards of the dock. He didn't even glance at Parker, but his eyes lingered on Jessamine. It struck me then: the curator was the only person there not in the con who could link Sophie to the rest of us. Ford was no longer gambling on her being innocent of what was going on; he was outright betting she'd help.

"Sir, I would prefer to believe you sensible a little bit longer," Koschei ground out. "I want my painting back or I will have to start turning you and your allies," he gestured at Parker and me, "inside out as creatively as I can."

The mastermind made vague appeasing gestures. "Ok, ok, no need to get violent. Alright. So, uh." Ford paused to think for a moment; the man's showmanship was flawless and I was absolutely taking notes. "Let's do it this way: you give me proof that you still have Grandmother lined up and ready to go into her cage - uh, your cage. And I give you the portrait."

The silence turned into a nearly solid thing, broken only by the surf outside and the gentle lapping of the waves against the pillars of the dock. "She," Koschei's voice had turned hard and dark. I felt that finally something of the real Blackbird, the creature behind the fairy tales, the real monster, was coming to the surface, poisonous and deadly, "is ready."

"Is she?" Ford said with a deceptive apathy that was nothing but ice under the thinnest of veneers.

Koschei stared at Ford. Ford stared at the water. The Blackbird suddenly shoved Jessamine at Stone and gestured to the surf, drawing up a perfect, thin sheet of motionless water. He spun his hands in a circle, partitioning off a piece the size of an ornamental mirror. He murmured in Russian, then spoke sharply, making the water ripple.

He'd summoned a perfect scrying circle while still keeping me gagged. And he hadn't even hesitated, or paused to gather up his strength or focus his will. I had to keep reminding myself that, no matter what happened, if it came to a throwdown with Koschei he'd be punching down, and I'd need every counter I'd prepared for it.

Koschei spoke twice more, sharper and sharper each time.

Ford rubbed idly at his cheek.

Koschei threw the mastermind a brief, and entirely murderous, glare, passed his hand over the rippling surface, stilling it again before he called out once more. This time, the rough voice of a leshy answered him. Koschei and the leshy spoke in Russian, the wizard's tone growing angrier the longer the conversation went on. In the end he let out a furious yell and the water went flying in every direction when he threw his hands out in a fury. "What," he hissed at Ford, "have you done."

Ford seemed to ponder that question carefully. "You're going to have to be more specific. Last I checked you had like seven plans going off tonight, and I only accounted for four of them. You know, the ones I was interested in." He shrugged indifferently.

"Who are you?"

"I -"

"WHERE IS SHE?!"

The lights flickered and faltered, the glass on the nearby windows of the boat-house's wraparound porch rattled. The yachts rocked uneasily in their moorings. Willing to find any port in a storm, Jessamine pressed a little closer to Stone, who looked down in mild surprise. Fedorov shifted to put himself between everyone else and his companion.

I tightened my grip on my wand. When Stone had thrown me down, all of my weight and all of the golem's momentum had come crashing down on the zip tie with which I'd been restrained. It had snapped. I was loose except for the wizard's peace-knot on the thumb and index of my bad hand.

"She's right here," Ford declared mildly. "I mean, she's been here all along. I thought you'd - well, she was your teacher for centuries, probably more depending on who you ask," Nate sounded politely disbelieving, and vaguely embarrassed, as if Koschei had grabbed the wrong fork at a fancy dinner and were trying to butter toast with it. "You haven't figured it out yet?"

Slowly, unwillingly, the poison green gaze turned to the only woman on the docks that he could not account for.

Ekaterina Yegorov laid a gentle hand on Fedorov's shoulder and spoke in soft Russian, and very much not with Sophie's voice. He dipped his head courteously and stepped back and for the first time in who knew so many centuries master and apprentice faced each other off.

#the dresden files #leverage #my writing #fanfiction #crossover #harry dresden #nathan ford #sophie deveraux #parker #eliot spencer #alec hardison #urban fantasy

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darchildre · 1 year ago

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Sara Reads an Infuriating Book, the Conclusion

Friends, I have finished W Scott Poole's Wasteland. Here are some notes on the last two chapters:

Chapter 4:

Like chapter 3, this mostly discussed subjects outside my bailiwick - the chapter focused mostly on the rise of fascism in Europe and America throughout the 1930s and only touched on film a little. And the films it did discuss are, to my mind, only horror films if your definition is very broad: M, and the Dr Mabuse movies.

I have one small rant here: Poole, in discussing M, talks about the movie's "fully human monster" and the fact that American and British film wouldn't "fully explore this subject for another three decades." And I thought, okay, sure - making a movie as frankly about a child killer would be pretty confronting even today, that seems fair.

But no, this is not what he means, because the films he uses as examples of British and American films exploring the subject matter are Psycho and Peeping Tom, which means we're just talking about serial killers.

Sir. Even leaving aside movies like Murders in the Zoo and Mystery of the Wax Museum (which he's going to discuss in the very next chapter), between 1927 and 1944, people in Britain and the US filmed three separate versions of The Lodger. I am absolutely not claiming that these movies are anywhere near as good as M, but you cannot argue that no one outside Germany made a serial killer movie before the 1960s.

On the up side, this chapter did remind me to rewatch M and that I've always meant to get around to the Mabuse films.

Chapter 5! This chapter was called "Universal Monsters", which of course made me excited. Unfortunately, this is the last chapter, so Poole has to cram a lot of stuff in and can't really give anything enough space for proper discussion. Especially since this chapter is as scattered as all the others: we do discuss the American horror cycle of the 1930s, but we also have to drop in on Lovecraft, T S Eliot, and Machen (as we do every chapter), as well as discuss the revival of Spiritualism, the collapse of Victorian mourning culture during WWI, and some thoughts on ghost stories as comforting when compared to, y'know, the omnipresent mutilated corpses that Poole never stops talking about.

Because there's so much, nothing gets a lot of focus. Here are some bullet points:

Poole does not discuss the 1931 Dracula at all. It gets a sentence or two marking that it has been made, but no discussion of the actual film. And sure, you can't talk about everything, but my dude! You have been yammering on about symbolic/metaphorical portrayals of shell shock for chapters now and you don't want to talk about Dwight Frye's Renfield? We're just going to move right past Lucy quoting "Stand to Your Glasses" to a literal walking dead man? I get that you talked about Nosferatu a lot but damn, that seems like a hell of an omission.

Talking about James Whale and his horror movies: "We unfortunately have really nothing from the director himself regarding how the war shaped his vision of horror." THIS IS WHAT I'M SAYING. Look, I am generally death-of-the-author as hell and I think that Poole's reading of most of these films is a legitimate and valid reading. I just object to the idea that it's the only valid reading, especially when he never presents solid evidence other than his opinions about the films.

Petty nitpicking time: friends, I just watched every damn one of the Universal Invisible Man movies and there is no suggestion in any one of them that Griffin is “a disfigured scientist who seeks invisibility to hide his mutilated face". That's just wildly inaccurate. Poole loves facial disfiguration so much that he sees it in films where it does not appear at all. (Claude Rains as Griffin is visible for all of 10 seconds in the original film, his face is entirely unmarred and, frankly but irrelevantly, really lovely.)

Even pettier nitpicking: if you are going to make a snarky comment about people mistakenly referring to Frankenstein's assistant in Frankenstein and Bride as Ygor, it's going to come off better if you remember that the character in the original film is named "Fritz" and not "Karl". Karl is in Bride.

I will admit that I only skimmed the Afterword because, frankly, I've been reading this book at work and I got to it when we were about to close up and go home. Thus, I don't have anything to say about it.

In conclusion! This is not the most infuriating book about horror I've ever read, because Poole a) doesn't hate people who like horror and b) doesn't think that all horror stories are about incest. I disagree with a lot of his conclusions, but mostly because I think he's making too strong a case on too little evidence and I don't like anything that only allows for one reading of any work of art. I also found the structure irritating and I think parts of the book would be better if the scope was narrower - wandering off to talk about Surrealist painters or T S Eliot every damn chapter got old after a while.

It's absolutely not the book I would recommend for a first entry into horror film history - that's still Skal's The Monster Show. But, if you want some context for 1920/30s horror film, with a focus on European film, it's not a bad book to argue with or make film lists from.

And now I have to go track down Shell Shock Cinema by Anton Kaes, because it's the book in the works cited that sounded the most interesting.

#i've also been reminded of how much i love the black cat #that might be due for a rewatch soon #sara reads an infuriating book

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ikementally-deficient · 2 years ago

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I have measured out my life with coffee spoons

Fandom: Jujutsu Kaisen

Rating: Cayenne (See Masterlist for rating descriptions)

Tags: Nanami Kento & Reader

Warnings: Spoilers for Shibuya Incident Arc, canonical character death

A/N: Title is a line from The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock by T.S. Eliot

If you had to choose an adjective for Nanami Kento, it would be ‘dry’. From his sandy blond hair to his tan suits, everything about his appearance is reminiscent of a desert, sere and arid. His rough baritone voice does nothing to mitigate the impression; quite the contrary, when everything he says is as factual and objective as he can make it. Even his cursed technique is a thing of ratios and numbers.

You’ve never been good at math.

Words are your playground. Language can be slippery and malleable, synonyms and puns and emotions tangled up together. Words are messy and ambiguous, visceral. Even Nanami can slide into the verbal quicksand on occasion, usually when asked about his purpose in life. You’ll never forget the shock of hearing this dry, unemotional man suddenly shout “Work is shit!” with the same level of intensity other people reserve for war crimes and public tragedies.

But you know that jujutsu sorcerers all have to be a little crazy, so maybe this flat affect interspersed with moments of disproportionate passion is just how Nanami expresses that. It’s caught your attention though: you find yourself watching him, waiting for the next moment that he slips and expresses a feeling or an opinion not backed up with facts and citations.

These incidents – you find yourself calling them ‘incidents’, like you’re going to write a report on them later – slowly accumulate and you string them together like metaphorical beads, a rosary of instants that you run your thoughts over in times of quiet. You build a picture of the man: likes to travel, hates overtime, weirdly intense about bread, wears bizarrely loud ties at odds with his boring salaryman suits. Takes his responsibilities so very seriously, trying to hide the deep affection that underlies his protective attitude towards his students (“They’re not my students. I’m not a teacher,” he says, completely avoiding the obvious fact that he cares regardless of formal relationships). Puts up with Gojo’s lackadaisical approach to, well, everything, even though it clearly irritates him.

It’s a complicated picture, when you finish assembling it. You’d expect any poem about Nanami Kento to be a sonnet or villanelle, some form with fixed rules of rhyme and meter. Instead you find yourself thinking of him in free verse, subverting any expectations.

After Shibuya, when the dust settles and the bleeding is staunched and you have time to think and grieve, you think of him again. What elegy can you write for this complicated man? Dry, yes, but also warm and soft and occasionally tender, the little despairs that made him human blurring out of the sharp outline of the 7:3 sorcerer. He wouldn’t appreciate your grief, wet and messy and ruining the lapels of his suit, but you know he’d understand it. Maybe he’d even, if he were present, give you one of those rare nods and brief smile when you stand at his grave reciting T.S. Eliot.

Nanami Kento was indeed a man composed of odds and ends; the empty space he’s left behind is not one coherent man-shaped void, but an ongoing series of unexpected holes in your every day life. You wish you had known him better, gotten close enough to understand the heart behind the ugly tie, but instead all you can do is lean against his marker and whisper a shaking goodbye.

“You do not know how much they mean to me, my friends,

And how, how rare and strange it is, to find

In a life composed so much, so much of odds and ends,

(For indeed I do not love it ... you knew? you are not blind!

How keen you are!)

To find a friend who has these qualities,

Who has, and gives

Those qualities upon which friendship lives.

How much it means that I say this to you—

Without these friendships—life, what cauchemar!”

-- T.S. Eliot, Portrait of a Lady

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen nanami #jjk nanami #nanami kento #writing #rating: cayenne

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astralscrivener · 2 years ago

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for the book asks: 3 4 5 6?

3. What were your top five books of the year?

oohhh i love this question!! i read a Lot of good books this year so this is hard to narrow down so i will do my best

1. the darkness outside us by eliot schrefer rewired my brain chemistry entirely. i think the marketing leaned a little too hard into “haha cute gays in space” and did not prepare me for the existential space horror and the romance of it all. i’m NOT a reread person generally but we’re approaching the time of year that i read it (early january) and i’m really feelin a reread this year. my tbr stack is so big so i shouldn’t but i’m just 👀👀👀

2. babel, or the necessity of violence: an arcane history of the oxford translators’ revolution by r.f. kuang everyone is raving about this and i am one of them!! it tackles colonialism and white privilege so well, and i love the way r.f. kuang set it up like an academic paper with the long title and the FOOTNOTES. and i love that in general she gives us. a bibliography in the back of the book. you can FEEL how much research goes into her writing. i’m also a little biased because i was a classics major and i miss doing translation, and the book made me look at translation from a new perspective!! also i cried

3. the fifth season by n.k. jemisin this has been on my tbr for so long and i finally read it for my queer lit class and it fucks SO hard. i love the worldbuilding in this one, i love the use of narration and perspective, i love the characters, i’m emotional about syenite and alabaster, and i NEED TO READ THE NEXT TWO BOOKS. as soon as the semester is over and i get thru a couple of the things i’m reading rn, i’m hopping on it

4. the city of dusk by tara sim a lot of people say this should be YA because the characters are early 20s and act like people in their early 20s but i loved it. the entire time i was reading it i was just like. this is something i want to write. this is something i would write. this has the vibes of stuff i am writing right now. just a book handcrafted to appeal to me, personally. entirely queer main cast but it didn’t feel to me like some of the other books that came out in the last couple years that are queer, if that makes sense? i feel like some books hinge on the “look at our diverse cast!” marketing but have no substance, but this was FUN. very much dark d&d campaign vibes. the main character is unhinged. the gods are in a broken-ass marriage. i just loved it so fucking much but also that’s from a personal basis

5. ocean’s echo by everina maxwell another one that’s more personal bias than anything! i adored winter’s orbit last year and was very excited to read this one. it’s a milSF/romance (shelved as SF) and i love the main characters so much. everina maxwell keeps writing family fuckups who use bravado to cover up the fact that they hate themselves falling in love with characters who are so duty-driven and anxious that they’ll let themselves get hurt over and over without standing up for themselves and i will eat it up every single time

4. Did you discover any new authors that you love this year?

i knew i would love r.f. kuang and n.k. jemisin, i just hadn’t gotten the chance to read them before this year but holy shit. holy fucking shit. both of their writing is so good. the poppy war is another fave read of the year, and i said it up there but i’ll say it again, i’m SO excited to continue the broken earth trilogy. i also have the city we became and i’m really looking forward to it!!

i also read the seven devils duology by laura lam and elizabeth may, and i love the way they wrote their characters. it’s an ensemble cast and i think they handled it so well. there were some characters that were more main than others, but none of them ever felt like caricatures just meant to fill a role/trope, yknow? laura lam has a new book coming out and it’s got dragons in it, and i am Looking

5. What genre did you read the most of?

i read just about an equal amount of fantasy and SF! i think fantasy just wins by like, one book. this doesn’t surprise me!! those are my favorite genres to read. i like it when characters can punch the physical manifestations of their problems. in the face. with enchanted swords. or shoot them with laser guns. yknow?

6. Was there anything you meant to read, but never got to?

SO MANY. so many books, not enough time in the year. i meant to start the wayfarers series by becky chambers, the strange the dreamer duology by laini taylor, finish the villains duology by v.e. schwab, and finally get through a full reading of the iliad and the odyssey. i’ve read most of them, but i haven’t ever actually read the full thing, because there are simply some passages my classics professors saw and said “y’all don’t need to know this <3″. i will get to you one day, catalogue of ships 😔

end-of-year book ask!

#eileen answers #literature #waveridden #thank u hayden!!!!#ask meme

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thedraught · 1 year ago

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my year in reading | 2020

Marking the passing of the years has a mystical and at the same time mundane quality to me. But time is passing and to reflect upon this linearity we all are bound to does always seem more magical than anything. So, as every year, I am embracing the turning of the years and look forward to a fresh start.

The end of an old year and the beginning of a new one is always an exciting time for someone as keen on semiotics and symbolism as I am. A thin membrane, much as on Halloween, that allows us to pass through to new endeavours, if we wish to see it that way.

And I do. I don’t scoff at New Year’s Resolutions and while I know that one can resolve to change and integrate new habits at any time of the year, any Tuesday in March or Saturday in June, this brief liminal space between two years is a magical one. Anything we ascribe value to automatically becomes valuable, as it is with birthdays, full moons or anniversaries of any kind.

I would rather be someone to see the magic in these things and give them meaning beyond that which is considered “real”, “plausible”, or “rational”, than turn away and let a moment that could be something special slip away unnoticed, without giving it the chance to attach itself to something.

January began atop the Himalayan mountains for me this year, freezing down to the bone in a tent. I did carry a book with me on this trip - The Snow Leopard, quite fittingly - though I did not turn one single page (difficult in 3 pairs of gloves) and have not finished it since. So, as has been my custom these past years, I began 2020 with The Secret History, a book that could never disappoint, unlike The Starless Sea by Erin Morgenstern, that I had eagerly awaited for more than a year. You win and you lose sometimes.

In February I succumbed to reading two quite popular crime novels - The Woman in the Window and The Girl on the Train - the latter of which was a gift from an Indian friend. Sadly, I wasn’t overly excited about either of them - maybe I have outgrown crime fiction for now? I also read and loved, as always, the fifth book in Seanan McGuire’s Wayward Children series - Come Tumbling Down.

My reading month was otherwise also filled with classics such as Animal Farm, The Turn of the Screw and In Cold Blood (I have apparently not lost any interest in true crime fiction), and I also watched the Greta Gerwig adaptation of Little Women twice at the cinema. But February also saw me returning to Germany, leaving my time in India behind, prompting me to read Vivek Shanbagh’s Ghachar Ghochar and Amitav’s Ghosh Gun Island immediately upon my return.

Gun Island especially was a magical book, in some ways reminiscent of A.S. Byatt’s Possession and I absolutely adored it. I listened to Ann Patchett’s The Dutch House while sorting through all my belongings, freshly picked up from Mainz, and I quite enjoyed it. The story itself maybe not so much as the impression left behind by the tangible aliveness of the house itself. With Faber and Faber, finally, I got a sneak preview of the rather unknown Celia Fremlin and her Ghostly Stories, of which I definitely need to read more.

March was the month that would dictate the beginning of the rest of the year, when the first lockdown came upon us. R came back from India, and we managed to see each other before boarders closed. And my cousin A came to stay with us for two weeks from Milan - which would turn into almost 3 months.

Most of the month I spent ploughing through Why We Sleep by Matthew Walker, a truly eye-opening exploration and a gloriously interesting study. Luckily my sleep patterns are already quite healthy but I feel like this book could turn some people’s minds around. I also read Jane Austen’s Emma (amazingly fun and vibrant!) and continued my slow but steady reading of Agatha Christie’s collection with 4:50 from Paddington.

“April is the cruellest month,” as T. S. Eliot teaches us, and fittingly, I read the horrifying A Little Life by Hanya Yanagihara, a touching but troublesome book that had me cry a little on the balcony. I also finished three more Agatha Christie novels and started a virtual bookclub with J and C for which I read Dear Mr. M by Herman Koch and Les Fiancés de l’Hiver by Claire Dabos, which I truly loved.

In May I began tutoring, visited R in Leuven and read two disappointments: The Wych Elm by Tana French and The Bass Rock by Evie Wyld.

Even another true crime read in June, His Bloody Project, did not convince me, whereas Anita Brookner’s Look At Me sparked memories of Shirley Jackson and was thoroughly enjoyed. I listened to Frederik Bakman’s Bear Town and Us Against You at breathtaking speed, while embroidering a sweater - my best handiwork project yet. I also finished A.S. Byatt’s beautiful The Children’s Book - a magical tale, and stunningly written. A left me in June, and I missed her companionship dearly.

I worked a lot in July, and finally visited C and J ! Embroidering and just simply seeing each other again. I finished Gillespie and I, which turned out to be different to what I imagined - delightful ! I was disappointed in July by The Essex Serpent, reread A Little Princess, Die Unendliche Geschichte and Digital Minimalism.

I continued with my reading of Austen with Sense and Sensibility and listened to the wonderful The Fellowship of the Ring, which made work hours so much sweeter. Finally, I finished off the month with the final Austen - Mansfield Park, which I loved.

In August, the month of my birth, I finished The Lord of the Rings trilogy once more as well as Mythos by Stephen Fry. But more importantly, August called for freedom from working, finding an apartment in Maastricht and seeing H and J in Berlin to celebrate my birthday - with books of course.

September was a quiet reading month, what with settling in the house, at uni and making new friends. I got a sewing machine, went to Munich for an India reunion and revelled in the beautiful autumn days in the city.

I still read Bunny, The House Without Windows and Hex, amongst various reads for uni. Dinners on the balcony and an exorbitant amount of Federweißer with my roommates rounded off the month, despite the low book count.

The month of Halloween, October, called for a sixth reread of The Secret History, a New Zealand read of The Rehearsal, as well as Rest and be Thankful (disappointing somehow) and The Supper Club (surprisingly delightful). I sewed and knitted and did presentations and wrote paper proposals. I also fell up the stairs and hurt my ankle pretty badly.

The most vivid memory I have of November is that of our silent dinner. I also read two more Agatha Christies, reread Daphne DuMaurier’s classic Rebecca and Ali Smith’s Artful, and loved Public Library, also by Smith. I got tested for Corona (negatively!), began Ashtanga yoga and finished Crossing the Water - a brilliant poetry collection of Sylvia Plath.

December began with a classic, Bonjour Tristesse, and culminated with My Best Friend’s Exorcism, as well as The Stranger Beside Me. Both books I had been meaning to read for years and they exceeded my expectations. Uni stressed me slightly, pending holidays as well and as lockdown 2.0 was announced my reading brain switched itself off.

Christmas was still a joy, with the family (minus Oma) coming together, R. visiting briefly and many a book under the Christmas tree. I started reading Susan Sontag’s journals - but I will carry their brilliance into the New Year. I finished off the year sewing costumes for our medieval-plague themed NYE, J and me celebrating together, since Covid plagued us once more and prevented C from coming. But we will enter the New Year singing Total Eclipse of the Heart as always and I take with me all the positive energy I have been carrying with me for a while now.

This is also the first year that I won’t achieve my reading goal - which I set at 80 books for 2020. Instead I am finishing with a still solid 67. Overall, despite all that has been going on in the world, I cannot complain about my 2020. But let’s still hope for the best (and prepare for the worst).

#year in reading #year in books

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bosspigeon · 1 year ago

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pick three oc's to assign to book shop owner, cafe owner, flower shop owner! tell us about their shops!

ooough this is cute hdkjshg

Feli would be the book shop owner! there's a local shop in my town that has cats, and that would absolutely be Feli. in some universes, he's got just the Ugliest Smush-Faced Rescue named Lyonette, and she rules the roost and demands tithe from visitors (lots of scritches while she purrs so loudly she drools) and will also fall asleep on the card reader (which has happened to me before Mr. Eliot sir, pls move) but it's fine bc she is very loveable <3 The shop would be very cozy and full of antique furniture and carefully organized sections, and he would absolutely regularly hold book clubs with tea and snacks!

hilariously, i actually have a MOTW character who owns a cafe! his name is Maugrim, and he's a middle-aged werewolf with a trouble past who got through it with baking! he opens up a couple of his own cafes, and usually employs other troubled young supernatural folks trying to get by. his main location he's left in the hands of a protege so he can move to a small town to take better care of his little sister, Wylie, who, uh... found out she had an older brother, hunted him down, and broke into his home. She's like 7 and kind of terrifying but he loves her very much and he gives her plenty of say in the layout and helping out! The cafe has that excellent vibe of tons of incredibly comfy mismatched vintage chairs and tables, a wide selection of tea, and local artists' work hanging everywhere! the music is usually chosen by the teenage supernaturals he tends to employ, so it can vary wildly from day to day

Flower shop owner is YUSHA! <3 Big boye loves flowers and gardening. Less so socializing, so he probably has a small staff of folks he trusts and keeps behind the scenes. He absolutely has a pretty nice indoor/outdoor space bc it's probably a combination flower shop/nursery, and the indoors definitely looks just as wild and overgrown as the outside! Ivy and pothos climbing the walls and shelves, some fountains and big glass windows to offer as much sun as possible. If you DO manage to get this huge, terrifying man hiding in the greenhouse to talk to you, he'll go on an hour-long tangent about whatever crossbreeding project he's working on, or a lecture about the best ways to care for your plants

#pidge replies #THANK YOU THIS WAS FUN GHDJKHG #decided to pick a few boys i either have not really talked about or dont talk about much ghdsjkhlg #oc : yusha #oc: felicien lapointe #oc: maugrim hughes

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bostonbakeddeans · 3 years ago

Note

For the fandom ask: leverage!

:DDDDD

blorbo: Eliot Spencer, hands down. That's my boyyyyyyyy I'm never Not Thinking about him

scrunkly: Hardison. He baby. Want to love and cherish him and wrap him in a blanket and give him an orange soda. Love him.

scrimblo bimblo: Maggie!!!!! Love this woman. She takes everything in stride. "No, not even in bed" I C O N I C love love love. Also Sophie and Maggie are definitely friends and have probably slept together at least once don't @ me

glup shitto: it's Quinn. We done been knew. This man has 6 minutes of screen time and he occupies So Much of my brain space. Little guy :3

poor little meow meow: honestly? Hurley. I love this pathetic himbo. He keeps getting himself into trouble but he's so!!! Genuine!!! Love 2 see it. Also Hurley/Peggy 4 lyfe

horse plinko: .... Eliot again (see: the Worst AU aka undercover Eliot au aka Eliot Spencer's terrible horrible no good very bad time)

eeby deeby: durango michigan. Awful Man. Horrible. I would like a viewing window so I can watch him in super hell. Fascinating.

#leverage #eliot spencer #alec hardison #maggie collins #jack hurley #damien moreau #ask and ye shall recieve #thank u!!! love 2 think abt leverage and my faves #i was going to do sterling or moreau for the meow meow but no!!!! not pathetic enough

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aerialflight · 4 years ago

Text

Fic Recs (cause it's always nice to give a shout out and get people into things I'm into rn)

[The Magnus Archives] (I recently finished the podcast and I fell into a hole for a while so here you go)

Sing a Song of Sixpence by Kaiel

Ship: Jon/Martin

In which Jonathan Sims is a Siren, and he fails to notice any new abilities granted to him by the position of Archivist. Or really anything about the Entities at all.

Takes place in season 1 featuring Jonah Magnus’s slow decent into madness

(The new mythology interwoven with tma's worldbuilding is so freaking good and I love how all the characters change and develop because of these changes. Also, f you Elias)

Along Came a Spider by Dribbledscribbles

Ship: implied Jon/Martin

Sasha James is the Archivist, as expected. Martin Blackwood is menaced by Jane Prentiss, as expected. Elias Bouchard weaves his web, as expected.

All goes as it should.

At least until something calling itself Jonathan Sims steps in.

(Web!Jon in this makes me want to weep, it's so freaking good. A pretty long, very excellent oneshot on what could've happened if Jon got taken by the web when he was a kid. And Sasha as the Archivist is ALWAYS so cool, we love her in this house.)

A Break in the Clouds by Ash_Rabbit

“I’m eight.” the kid sniffs as if eight was any different from four, maybe not an unspeakable horror then, just a regular horror. “And I heard that the Magnus Institute deals with-” his little nose scrunches, cute. “-spooky things.”

“Do you have a-” he cracks a grin, and then rethinks it as small hands tighten against their burden.”-spooky thing to deliver?” gods he hopes not, it’s bad enough when adults walk in and lay out all of their baggage, but for a child-

“There’s a spider in this book.” the kid says solemnly, raising his textbook sized parcel. “It ate Evan Pritchard.” a bloody fucking Leitner. Of course an eight year old would find a murder spider book. “This seemed like the best place to bring it.”

(I never thought about what the Original Elias could've been like AND NOW I CAN'T STOP THINKING ABOUT IT BECAUSE OF THIS FIC. I LOVE HIM, HE'S COMPLEX AND HE CARES AND JON CARES AND THEY BOTH CARE ABOUT EACH OTHER. THIS IS THE CONTENT I WANT, OMG. Also, Jon being even smaller than usual is adorable, so cute. No wonder Elias wants to hug him, a LOT.)

See the Line where the Sky meets the Sea by The_Floating_World

Ship: Jon/Martin, Jon/Oliver Banks

When Jon is a child he looks into the infinite abyss of space. The Vast looks back into him.

(One of my all time fave fics in this fandom, no questions asked. I have reread this three times and am open to doing it again, god. Vast!Jon, such a concept. It's written so beautifully and the relationships Jon develops, so good. ugh. My heart. Please please read.)

Sweet As Roses by Prim_the_Amazing

Ship: Jon/Martin

“Come in, Martin,” he says, not looking up from his notes.

“Hi, Jon,” he says, and Jon stops writing at the sound of his voice. “We’re out of the green tea, but we’ve got lemon?”

Jon looks at him. Martin smiles at him in his usual tentative way as he sets the mug of tea down on Jon’s desk. Heat spikes so sharply in his gut that he twitches with it.

“Thank you, Martin,” he says, mouth dry, and he stands up.

“Oh,” he says, sounding almost surprised. He smiles again. “No-- no problem-- um, what are you--”

Jon takes Martin by the shoulders, leans up on the tips of his toes, and kisses him.

(You have no idea how much I howled through this fic, my god. *buries face in hands* The number of times I wanted to cry from sheer hilarity and horror reading this good lord.)

Things Could Always Be Worse by theOestofOCs

Ship: Jon/Martin, Georgie/Melanie

Sometimes, the most horrifying thing of all is what might have been.

Somewhere, Jon could swear he heard a crowd laughing.

Or: in which Jonathan Sims is forced to swap places with his alternate self—a tall, chivalrous hero extraordinaire, who knows neither fear nor nuance—and is sent to the aggressively straight alternate universe the Magnus Archives was never meant to be.

“Whatever place this is,” Jon announced, “I just want to be sure it knows I hate it.”

(I will say this once, THIS IS THE MOST CURSED THING IVE EVER READ EVER. Like holy hell. I can't believe this thing exists. please read it oh please please please)

[Supernatural]

heard from your mother (she don't recognize you) by Schmuzz

Ship: Dean/Cas, Jessica/Sam

A man named Cas wakes up in 2003 with no memories, but he's able to piece together a few things:

1. Supernatural creatures exist, and most of them will hurt innocent civilians if he doesn't stop them; 2. He has abilities that no human hunter should have, but he knows enough about human hunters to keep that to himself, and finally; 3. He keeps running into another hunter named Dean Winchester, who seems to be about as lonely as he is if he's willing to put up with those former facts long enough to help Cas unravel the mystery of who (or what) he really is.

For his part, Dean's still (not) dealing with Sam's departure to Stanford, and figures distracting himself with a bit of mystery and intrigue is as harmless as it gets, right? Right.

(THE fic I'm most into right now, been following this from the very start and it's AMAZING. Cas has agency and is making friends and S1 Dean is growing out of John's influence and is becoming a Person and the both of them first being friends then more. The slow burn as their relationship develops, SO GOOD. SO SO DAMN GOOD. *screams* Seriously one of the best spn fics I've read in a long, long time.)

anamnesis by cenotaphy

Ships: Castiel/Dean, Sam/Eileen

Chuck is depowered, Jack is the new god, and the world is free. Dean and Sam get into the Impala and chase down the miles on an endless highway, and their story is finally, finally their own to follow. At least, that's what Dean tells himself. But the diners and motels and painted interstate lines are blurring together and the smallest details keep catching at his brain like tiny fishhooks and he can't quite shake the feeling that not everything is exactly as it should be.

* Fix-it/alternate series finale. Canon-compliant through the end of 15.19.

(THIS IS THE FIC THAT GOT ME THROUGH THE FINALE OKAY. WHY COULDN'T THIS HAVE BEEN CANON. It's Disturbing and honestly plot-wise this makes more sense. Why couldn't we have had this. *screams*)

[Avatar: The Last Airbender]

where the stars do not take sides by WitchofEndor

Ship: Sokka/Zuko

When Azula is nine, she becomes an only child. She hears the Fire Lord call for Zuko's life, and in the morning, her mother and brother are gone. Azula may be young, but she isn't naive. She knows what happened to them.

Which makes it all the more surprising when Azula tracks the Avatar down and fights his group of peasant friends, only to find herself staring into an eerily familiar face.

(The fact one of the tags in this fic is, "Sibling Dynamic: Fucked Up But Wholesome" should give you an idea what this fic is like. Chaotic as HELL and I just love Azula here, she loves Zuko so much in her messed up way and Zuko loves her back in the exact same way lol. It's batshit and I am Here For This.)

[Naruto]

Eclipse by AislingRoisin (JayBird345) for HybrisAnaideia

Ship: Nara Shikaku/OFC

"In life, it's easier to remain stagnant and wallow in your troubles. But life isn't merely about continued existence, nor is it meant to be gone through alone."

(This is a fic that's slept on and I NEED people to read this. A self-insert fic that I find really interesting in its approach and the worldbuilding for the post-third war shinobi world is fantastic. I feel like there's a certain pattern with self-insert fics, not that is a detriment in any way to how much I enjoy them, so this fic feels fresh to me in a way I haven't read in a while. I am waiting eagerly for this to get updated! Please read!)

On Freedom and Other Formalities by iaso

Ship: Kakashi/Genma/OFC

When push comes to shove, Hiwa Inuzuka doesn't go down easy. Reborn into a new, dangerous world? She puts her past life as a spy to work. Thrown into a war? Hiwa does her duty, for Konoha. And when she's forced into an arranged marriage? All there is to do is beat them to the punch and get married first. Thankfully, Genma Shiranui is willing to lend a hand. Literally. SI/OC

(Listen, LISTEN, it's about the slow burn, the longing, the communication (it both has and hasn't and isn't THAT great??), the messy way you fit three very different people together, it's so freaking good! Also, Kakashi is so Chaotic here this is my fave characterization of him, you can't change my mind. And Genma is a Good Boi who is Doing His Best, along with the Self-insert character who I LOVE SO MUCH, SHE'S FANTASTIC FNEIWOPAF. Sped past this fic in the speed of light, I could not stop reading!)(Honestly, read all of the author's fics, they're all really REALLY good!)

Building a Castle by WhisperingDarkness

Without needing anyone to tell her, Sakura knew that talking to someone no-one else could see or hear would make her weird. It would draw the bad kind of attention to her, something people could make fun of her for.

She didn’t like being weird, but she did like the voice. Her inner voice was helpful and it was a part of her that had always been there. The idea of it not being there would have been so much weirder than anything else.

It was during her first year at the Academy that Sakura realised the voice was not in her head at all, but that it came from a cloudy shape floating next to her.

(Basically a short-ish retelling of Hikaru no Go. Only with more Shogi and Nara and Ninja's)

(Sakura can see ghosts (I'm noticing this is a popular trope for her) and it's really cute haha! Her relationship with Tobirama is sweet and I just enjoyed reading this so much.)

[The Magicians]

So Long (And Thanks For All The Books) by IncompleteSentanc (Erava)

Ships: Quentin/Eliot, James/Julia, Quentin/Margo/Eliot

When Quentin is told Julia wasn't admitted to Brakebills, he realizes he has a drastic decision in front of him. If he tells Julia about magic, he'll have his mind wiped as well as hers. But he can't just leave her behind, either. He can't lose his best friend, and he can't let her life a life with her magical potential stolen away from her.

So he makes a third choice.

(Really, and I mean REALLY well-done canon divergent fic, this is the Quentin & Julia friendship fic I have been looking for forever. It explores so much of what could've happened and I just love Quentin here, I really really do. Characterization done so right. I also recommend the author's other works too. Been a follower of them for a long time, they're great.)

[Game of Thrones]

The Road to Victory by writing_as_tracey

Too late in preparing for the Night King and the Long Night, the last stand at Winterfell is close to falling. Bran takes desperate measures to ensure victory, and Jon, Sansa, and Arya pay the price for it in a time unfamiliar to them, on the cusp of another war. [GoT, time-travel fix it]

(I swear, this fic made me laugh so many times, all the Stark are BAMF and fantastic, and Rhaegar gets Wrecked lol. It's crack btw, and the plot goes in directions you'll never guess and it's amazing hahaha!)

[Haikyuu!!] (I am very very late to the fandom but here I am)

Ballare (To Dance) by MidnightSparks

Ship: Iwaizumi Hajime/Kageyama Tobio/Oikawa Tooru, and platonic Kageyama & Kentarou (really love their friendship)

Kageyama’s first love is volleyball. His second, however, is ballet.

In one world, Kageyama Tobio is left behind by his parents. In this world, the existence of soulbonds keeps Kageyama’s parents in Miyagi and leaves Kageyama in the care of his grandma and grandpa.

(In which soulmates exist and that changes everything and nothing at the same time.)

(*buries face in hands* I have fallen for this ship so hard and I can't get out fudge me. I understand now. Their DYNAMICS FIEWONPAF)

Kings of Tomorrow by bokubroya (liarielle)

Ship: Kageyama Tobio/Oikawa Tooru

On the eve of Tobio’s 16th birthday, he counts down the seconds to midnight, and emerges with Oikawa Tooru’s name on his wrist.

It’s been two years since then, and Tobio thought they had an understanding. A silent, never spoken about understanding that this thing between them is nothing, and they’re going to pretend it doesn’t exist.

Of course, it’s just like Oikawa to change the game and leave Tobio wondering what comes next.

(I am WEAK for soulmate fics between these two, I don't even really like soulmate fics half the times what is WRONG WITH ME-)(Please suffer with me, I'm begging you. Its a good fic, thumbs up.)

[Crossover]

Honey and Magic by JustARatherVerySillyWriter, White_Squirrel for Super Carlin Brothers

Fandoms: Matilda (yeah you read that right), Harry Potter

Everyone knew Matilda was a rather extraordinary child, but even she didn't know she was a witch. Matilda Honey receives her Hogwarts letter in the year of the Triwizard Tournament, and soon, she will leave her unique mark on the magical world.

(Do I even need to explain how amazing it is to have Matilda in the wizarding world? And Matilda is a HUFFLEPUFF AND I WILL DIE ON THIS HILL THIS FIC IS GREAT PLEASE READ!!!)

An Eye for an Eye by DpsMercy

Fandoms: The Magnus Archives, Welcome to Night Vale

In which Jonathan Sims is not from the UK but instead, if you took his origins and turned them sideways twice then flipped them over, he technically would be from the US, the town of Night Vale specifically. Elias can’t do shit about it and gets a headache and slowly creeping madness instead.

(Look, I know probably everyone has read this because if they haven't, what have you been DOING with your lives??? Jon interning at Night Vale is Incredible, nothing phases this man, it's Delightful. I laughed so many times reading this, I'm not even kidding right now. Read or perish.)

The Favour by R_Cookie

Fandoms: Harry Potter, Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them

Ship: Original Percival Graves/Harry Potter

Percival is ten years old when his grandfather tries to tell him that he's ensured the greatness of the Graves legacy for him, that he ought to be eternally grateful - but the explanation is hijacked by a stranger who manages to intimidate Chester Graves with an ease never seen before.

or: Hadrian (Harry) Potter is the Master of Death, who grants Graves a boon. Nobody could have known that the Deathly Hallows didn't turn you so much into the 'Master of Death' as into the anthropomorphic personification of Death. And so, Death becomes Percival's guardian angel, and Percival does not spit out his cereal.

(Look, I don't know how I stumbled back into the FBAWTFT fandom either, it just happened and I'm grateful for that. Otherwise, I wouldn't have found this amazing fic. Their relationship is slow and strange and I just love how Percival is characterized here. Also, one of the tag promises that it deviates from canon so I am really, really excited for that! XD)

baby that's what i do by natanije

Fandoms: Naruto, Katekyou Hitman Reborn!

"Are you telling me," Hidan exclaims, incredulous, "that you collect money all this time to give to orphans?!"

Kakuzu pauses. He blinks a few times.

"Huh. I guess I do."

(Tsuna reincarnates as Kakuzu and it's HILARIOUS. HE'S SUCH A MOM HAHAHA)

#Fanfiction #AO3 #Fic Rec #Fic Rec List #Podcasts #The Magnus Archives #Supernatural #Avatar The Last Airbender #Naruto #The Magicians #Game of Thrones #Haikyuu!!#Crossover #Matilda #Welcome to Night Vale #Harry Potter #Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them #Katekyou Hitman Reborn

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rubixfox-fanblog · 3 years ago

Text

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: General audience

Fandom: Apex Legends

Characters: Seer, Octane and Mirage. (and other legends.)

Additional tags: Seer Out of character

Words: 2864

Summary: Octane accidentally revives Seer with stim, instead of the regular syringes they normally use, and Mirage has to deal with both of them.

Notes: finally managed to finished my fanfic and gathered the courage to post it.... Enjoy!

Tumblr note: I got my inspiration from @sweetsoftandscared. You should definitely check them out!

"This is one of the worst ideas you had since the start of this match, Silva."

"Come on Amigo, that entire sneaky stuff got me bored. Even perfect boy here almost fell asleep. We all need some action."

"Speak for yourself, I was having the time of my life!"

~~~

Seer, Octane and Mirage ended up together as a squad in the dropship. Heaven knows why. It's a squad based on the amount of disaster, instead of skill, these three would bring. Especially octane and Seer, those two definitely had a history together. But no one knows (yet) why, Well Rampart definitely knew but she wouldn't tell anyone about them.

Their battle location this time was in Olympus and their dropship flew in at the Bonsai Plasa. Seer was the one who took the lead as jumpmaster and made sure he landed at the Oasis. Everyone else already jumped earlier or later so they got all of the world to loot or observe the area.

That's where it all went wrong.

After a few minutes of gathering guns and supplies, Octane got bored (like always.) and decided to take his own lead, running off to the place where small houses gathered, the place called estates.

Seer tried to stop him, because he noticed the heartbeats of at least 3 other legends. But Octane being octane, he didn't listen at all. Throwing his jump pad in front of the other two legends, who were chasing him, launching them both,unexpectedly, in the middle of a heated battle.

Two squads

Two whole squads.... Well basically one and a half, since there was only one of the three left. So that makes one and a third. I wait, one squad. (they downed the last one while they landed)

The three legends of the remaining squad seemed to be Revenant, Wraith and Loba. Who Already noticed them as they landed on top of the middle building.

~~~

"How about you two just quit whining and just go for it already, if we keep standing still we'll be dead in no time!" Octane responded as he bounces up and down.

A deep, disappointed, sigh escaped Seer's mouth as he pulled out his gun.

"I stay here. Mirage, create distraction but watch out for Revenant. Octane, do what you want." Seer didn't seem to try to give Octane instructions, he just let him wreck havoc so he could focus on his enemy's in front of him.

As they both took off and followed orders, Seer released his tactical called: focus of attention. The micro stones formed a tunnel straight into the building in front of him, revealing two of the three enemies they're about to fight.

Wait, two?

His slight distraction caused his downfall as he didn't notice that Loba used her jump drive. Her bracelet flew straight above his head and ended up behind him.

"I'm sorry, my love. But I really need to win this match. That tin Demon out there promised me that I could kick off his head if we win." Loba said and the moment Seer tried to turn around she already shot him a few times in the chest.

But Loba's action didn't go unnoticed because as soon as she downed Seer, she received a few bullets as well from Mirage, standing on top of the roof from the other building Seer focused his attention on.

"You're welcome." Mirage yelled.

"I downed Wraith, she was too slow for me to escape." Octane cackled as he returned from god knows where.

Revenant was the only one left.

Seer made his way down towards the ground, hoping Mirage would pick him up but at that very moment, Revenant's Tactical landed exactly where Seer ended up, underneath the stacked buildings.

Also Mirage apparently got hit as they heard the cracking sound.

"You gotta help him, Octane. I'll cause a distraction.". irage announced. He didn't get hit by the tactical bomb yet so his abilities still worked. Making sure Revenant would focus on him and his 7 other decoys.

Octane didn't hesitate and quickly grabbed one of his revive needles and stabbed directly into Seer's chest.

Wait a second.

Why did that needle say Simulacrum? Did he accidentally swapped the needles this morning? Was that the reason why Lifeline said he looked Healthier than before? So many questions, such a little time.

"I could use a little help here!" Mirage cried out, who's struggling not to get hit by Revenant's Longbow. Who's hiding in one of the houses behind them.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm com....."

Boom

A clean shot between the eyes ending Revenant's life in an instant.

"What in the name of..."

Did another squad that joined the fight? No, nobody was there except the three of them.

"What's wrong?" Seer said, holding a 301 assault rifle in his right hand, without a scope nonetheless while his left hand still got a hold of one of Octane's hands, pulling the downed man back on his feet.

"Did you just shoot him?" Mirage said.

"Why, yes. You needed some help right? So I provided that help."

Octane tried to pry Seer's hand open, but the taller man was holding it fiercely for somehow no reason.

"Amigo, please, let go of my hand. I don't think Che would be happy if I lost my hand as well. " He said, not paying attention to the kill at all.

Seer spaced out for a few seconds, staring directly at Mirage. Poor Eliot started to back up in response as he felt really uncomfortable right now.

Until he suddenly snapped back to reality and pulled away from Octane's hand. Then he decided to turn around and just started to run?

"The next ring is not far." Seer started. "Come, let's go."

Octane caressed his hand like it's been stuck in a bear trap and raised an eyebrow, underneath his goggles of course, as he watched his teammate run forward. Did the stim give him super sight? Or did it give him super focus? Whatever it was, Octane became jealous.

"What did you do?" Mirage suddenly asked , like he could see Octane's expression under his mask. "There's no way a normal human being could hit someone at that distance."

"I guess it's just luck, Amigo. Something you could use as well." Octavio clearly avoided the question. "Like he said, The ring's coming, try to keep up as well, 'kay?" He said and the another jump pad to catch up with Seer

"Wait, what?" Mirage said confused as he turned around and noticed the red wall of death coming up to him very quickly.

"Don't go without me!"

They finally managed to catch up with Seer, who stopped moving for a second, close at the Hammond labs. He rubbed his temple as he looked at Octane.

"You used the wrong syringe, did you now?" He suddenly said.

"Are you alright, Amigo?"

Seer didn't hesitate for a second and pointed his R301 directly at Mirage, who ducked away in an instant, just to shoot a legend who sneaked up behind him.

"I'm fine, totally. Nothing wrong with me at all." he quickly added and refused to continue at what he just asked. He didn't have the concentration at all to be mad at Octane right now.

"Dude! Watch out where you point that thing!" Mirage said, almost screaming as he panicked. "don't ever do that..."

Seer pushed his index fingers to his lips as an indication for Mirage to shut up.

"The two remaining legends are still on the other side of the wall. I'm going in." The taller Brown man didn't even wait for one then to make the first move, he just took off.... Again.

"phew." Octane let out a relieved sigh. Ignoring Mirage, who clearly looked at him like he saw water burning. "Let's go, we can't let him die alone."

By the time they catch up again, Seer was kneeling down by one the deathboxes, looting some ammo. Two innocent legends, slaughtered brutally by the new guy on drugs. Sounds like headline for the Outlands newspaper

"How even.... We weren't even gone for at least 5 minutes." Mirage said. "Octane, what did you do?"

"It was an accident, Amigo. Are you happy now? Lifeline and I had a drink together yesterday, probably one too much. I accidentally swapped the syringes this morning cause I couldn't think right." He finally confessed because he couldn't handle Mirage's annoying attitude anymore.

"Are there any side effects?"

"depends, want to hear the bad or the worst once?"

"The good once please"

"Side effects aren't really good at all, Compadre. It'll wear off after a while. Probably gonna take a few days but the most common side effect is not being able to sleep or concentrate, cause you know,.. It makes you feel energetic." Octane looked at Seer who's been looking at them both for a while now, moving his fingers rapidly up and down.

-The poor guy won't be able to sleep for the upcoming days.- Octane wanted to say, but he didn't because he knew Mirage probably wouldn't be able to stop talking if he had an antidote for the poison Octane pumped in the always so calm and concentrated Seer.

"Are you both good? There are 10 squad left. Let's go." Seer couldn't even think right at this very moment as the

stim probably reached its peak at this point.

"c'mon, we need to go. Before it wears off, better take the advance now we still can." Octane said.

"Does that mean I can get a kill too?"

"If you're fast enough, Amigo!" Octane said and took the lead this time. Mirage sighed, if only he was as fast as them. His legs were making him tired, trying to keep up with those two junkies.

-This feels wrong.- That's all Mirage could think of right now.

The ring chased them all the way back to the rift. The third round had been announced and the timer went down rapidly, close to round 4. On their way to the ring they took another squad down, but none of them seemed to be the kill leader. Somehow....

Seer got the most kills, logical right? He took down thirteen people. Octane got second place with 8 and mirage.... Yeah, he didn't even bother trying to keep up with those two anymore. He didn't even take the Stim, but he was already worn out mainly because of the constant sprinting. He even burned his butt on the ring because Seer and Octane pushed a squad on the edge of the closing ring.

"Only 2 enemy squads left.... Victory is nearly ours." Seer said as Octane used his Jump Pad to take both Mirage and Seer to the upper parts of the Rift. Being this high gave them the advantage to examine their upcoming enemies.

Besides Mirage acquired a fully upgraded Longbow, so he could see their enemies from at least 300 meters away. But the main reason he was using the Longbow, is because he could still keep an eye on both of his Teammates without moving a lot.

The drugs enhanced Seer's abilities greatly. His ears picked up the sounds of heartbeats even faster and his micro drones reached a distance even further than before. It almost felt like cheating. (Well it definitely was though, none of the legends were allowed to take any drugs, except for Octane, because you know, it's Octane.)

"6 enemies, North, not too far away, currently fighting each other." Mirage said as he loaded the Longbow, ready to Shoot one of them, while standing on top of the building.

Seer peaked through the scope of his R-301, Following the movement of what it seemed to be, Fuse. Who launched his knuckle cluster at one of the other legends he's been fighting.

"Let's go! It's not like they're going to commit suicide!" Octane exclaimed, injecting himself with the 40st syringe of Stim today. He threw his jump pad down in front of himself and used it to launch himself into battle.

4 legends closer to victory. Mirage wanted this to be over, this entire match pushed him to his limits. He doesn't care that he only had 2 kills, well of course he did, but he pushed that away for now.

Seer released his micro drones mid air, after he also used Octane's jump pad of course, to reveal the remaining enemies. Just before he landed, Octane already downed the last one of the other squad Fuse and his team were fighting.

"Knuckle cluster f'ring."

It struck Octane from behind and it stuck long enough to break Octane's shield.

"Shit." Octane growled. Seer heard his teammate being in trouble and quickly focused his attention on Fuse, who seemed to be amused and proud by his actions.

While Octane was trying to recharge his shield behind a MRVN, currently at top on one of the buildings from the Rift, Mirage noticed one of Fuse's teammates, down at the ground, tried to flank Octane.

Bloodhound, Mirage noticed, they only have to scan their area and they would be faster at Octane than mirage ever would be. So the man sighed and decided to take a gamble. First he shot Bloodhound, clearly cracking their shield, and after that he jumped in as well.

Bloodhound quickly turned around, trying to find the one responsible for their cracked shield. But before they took action, Mirage landed behind them. Not exactly behind but 50 meter away.

He tried to regain his balance, but....

"Alfather, give me sight! " Bloodhound suddenly said and turned around to notice Mirage's clumsy landing. Their eyes glowing red and quickly started shooting at the poor soul.

Mirage whimpered, trying to remain his cool, but he couldn't, every bullet he fired ended up in the gutter. But Bloodhound's bullets hit him one for one, almost knocking him. Luckily Octane finally finished up charging his shield and attacked Bloodhound upstairs. Delivering the final blow.

"Be careful where you walk, Amigo!" Octane yelled and threw a Phoenix kit towards the older man.

Seer seemed to have a hard time against Fuse. His quick reflexes suddenly turned slow and he barely found the energy to keep himself on his feet. Fuse took advantage of that, he swiftly moved out of the cover and readied an Arc star on his robot arm. Ready to shoot, but Seer just got enough power to release, his fast loading tactical and the micro drives escaped out of his chest device once again, canceling fuse abilities for a few seconds. Confusing the older men for a second as his arm wouldn't work

Seer's bullet struck Fuse right at his chest , to end the longest battle he had today. Then he collapsed.

"Is he dead?" Mirage boldly asked.

"Of course not, are you crazy, Compadre. " Octane muttered. "He probably fell asleep or something...."

"We have our Champion's!"

It seemed that Fuse and Bloodhound lost a teammate before the last ring closed, so they were unable to revive him or her.

"This was the weirdest match ever. I'm glad it's over..." Mirage sounded worried, and he has enough reasons to be worried. This was Obi's second match in the Apex game and recovering would surely be a drag.

"Come on Compadre, we won! Be happy!" Octane howled and quickly started to jump around.

--------

"So, Silva caused all of this, Huh. It was mu'h fault, i should've keep an better eye on him." Che rubbed her temple as she plays with a pen in her other hand.

After the games ended, Lifeline got called in to pick up Obi's lifeless body and brought him to the hospice on the drop ship.

"It isn't your fault, Aya. I was with him at the match, I should have stopped him earlier. Obi's going to be alright, right?* Mirage replied, standing next to Lifeline, who's scribbling some notes on her note pad about Seer's condition.

"He's going to f'ne. The only problem is that it would take weeks for him to r'cover. I mean, he can easily compete to the games again in just a f'w days. Stim is one h'll of a drug, if you ain't used to it, the side effects of it are terrible. He would still feel energetic but his stamina won't be able to deal with it, think of headaches, being tired all of the time, that surt stuff. He won't be happy when he wakes up."

"I see..." Elliot mumbled.

"Silva is at the Paradise lounge. Yuh should go there as well. Celebrating yuh win and all." Lifeline added. "I can't come, I need to keep an eye on the artist, yuh know."

Mirage wanted to ask if Che was coming too but she already answered his thoughts.

"Are you sure?" He asked to make sure he understood it right.

"Definitely! Now go, Witt. Obi will be alright as long he's in muh hands."

And so Mirage did. Without a doubt lifeline's care was the best of the outlands and Seer will recover as fast as possible. Ready to Lecture Octane about his wrongdoings. (or to kick his ass, just to show how disappointed he was.)

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leverage-ot3 · 4 years ago

Text

notable moments from The Tap Out Job

leverage 2.02

Jack: Somebody drugged his water. It's an old boxing trick. He couldn't defend himself, and... He's still in the hospital.

that’s fucked

- - - - -

Eliot: It's not a cockfight. All right? Let me show you something, Hardison. Come here. Can I borrow you? (puts a gentle hand on Parker’s hip, guiding her to the open space behind the couch) All right. Square up. Remember what I showed you?

(Hardison and Parker square up)

Hardison: Are you...

Eliot: There's three phases to an MMA--to an MMA fight, okay? One, striking. (Parker punches Hardison in the face) Nice. Next is grappling, the takedown. (Parker grabs Hardison and throws him on the floor) Exactly. All right. The third one is jujitsu. Okay, try to isolate a joint. (Parker gets Hardison in a hold) That's good. That's a textbook armbar, Parker. Put some pressure on there.

Parker: Like this?

Eliot: There you go. Or you can go for a choke hold.

Hardison: She got to be choking me. (tries to get away)

Eliot: Remember that thing that I showed you?

Parker: Oh, yeah. The choke.

Eliot: Lock that in. All right. You don't have to hold the arm. See, that's a triangle choke. That's nasty. Puts pressure on his carotid artery, and the guy will submit by tap out.

Hardison (tapping the ground): Eliot, I'm tapping! I'm tapping!

Eliot: These fights are won by inches, I'm telling you.

Hardison: I can't breathe!

Eliot: All about leverage.

Sophie: Yeah, it looks really painful.

Hardison: It is painful!

Nate: No TV deal, you said, huh? Hardison, what are this guy's other interests, this Rucker guy?

Hardison: Seriously, you ask me a question right now...

Sophie: I'll take that. Yeah, rotary club, golf membership.

Nate: Golf, huh?

Hardison: Help me!

Sophie: Yeah. I mean, this guy's like a 1950s sitcom character. He plays a weekly game with the local businessmen. In fact, last year, he won the club championship.

Nate: Did he? Hmm.

Hardison: Let me go!

Nate: I guess it's...

Hardison: She's killing me!

Nate: …it's time to hit the links.

Hardison: I'm cool. Just let me go real quick.

eliot canonically teaches parker how to fight in his spare time and I LOVE THAT

fucking CHAOTIC OT3 + parker is having a great time while hardison is dying

ALSO can we just for a minute appreciate how when she puts him in a chokehold she was wrapping her legs around his neck, which basically had his head in her crotch area and !!! it wasn’t sexualized at al !!! literally A N Y other show would have sexualized it even just a little bit but not leverage. never leverage.

- - - - -

I love it when they fuck with peoples gear (like with the baseballs or hockey pucks or in this instance the golf balls)

- - - - -

parker playing with the golf club covers

- - - - -

literally EVERY con has nate being an asshole (this one was one of the more annoying ones tho)

- - - - -

hi I am but a simple bi and eliot in that grey hoodie was VERY attractive

- - - - -

Room Service: Room service. Can I help you?

Sophie: Yeah, no, I can't eat this. I'm sorry?

Everything on my plate is yellow.

Room Service: It's chicken-fried steak.

Sophie: It's what? Chicken-fried steak?

Room Service: Yes.

Sophie: No, let me just tell you, all right. Meat should never be used as an adjective.

~ a little while late ~

Sophie: I'm starving.

Parker: I found these in the minibar. (throws her a bag)

Sophie: "Pork Rinds"? How do you peel a pig? (throws it back)

- - - - -

Hardison: Got it. See, Online video websites, they track viewer hits by IP Address, so the trick is to just spoof a bunch of IPs, then write a script that lets you browse the video page via the proxy list and...

- - - - -

Sophie: Well, this guy, he just--he give me the creeps.

Eliot: We've gone up against rougher dudes than this before.

Sophie: I know. But it's this whole treating people as commodities. This whole barbaric sport.

Eliot: Hey, don't lump these guys in with Rucker. All right, he's not what the sport's about.

Sophie: Eliot, this "sport" is about two guys beating the crap out of each other.

Eliot: MMA fighters act with more respect than any other athlete I've seen.

Sophie: Yeah, they're "Braveheart," I get it.

Eliot: No, you don't. These guys don't fight because they like hurting other people, all right. They fight to gain some sort of control over their opponents, over their environment, over their lives. Have you seen this town? Huh? The farms are drying up. The only stores are bail bondsmen and pawn shops, and there's nothing they can do about it. So, yeah, they get in the ring and try not to let it all suffocate them. (a beat, he smiles) And it's about two guys beating the crap out of each other. (she smiles back)

- - - - -

eliot is wearing a green flannel in this one and it looks very nice and comfy

- - - - -

Rucker: Well, bottom line is, you need good product. What event are you here to produce?

[Interior Van]

Hardison: On it. There's a tractor pull in grand island, a livestock show in council bluffs, white people doing other white things…

pls keep calling out white people pls we deserve it lmfao

- - - - -

Director (in car looking at his phone): Come on! Come on! Give me something! Come on! Is this gonna take long?

Nate (through window): No. Two shakes. Are you in a hurry?

Director: Even half a bar... what? Yes. Hurry. Does anyone in this backwater hellhole know what that means?

Nate: You're a director, right? What was your name again?

Director: What? It's Laurence. Todd Laurence.

Nate: Todd, well, listen, Mr. Laurence. See, I wrote a script...

Director: Huh?

Nate: Yeah. It's about a limo driver who solves mysteries till his wife leaves him for --

Director: For the love of god!

Nate: ...the best part: The feed store manager. Right? His wife…

Director: Yeah...?

Nate: Tramp...

Director: Hey, hee-haw, move the car! Okay

- - - - -

parker in leather pants, a bright yellow ‘I heart Nebraska’ tshirt and weird hat, eating a corn dog? ,,,a look I guess

- - - - -

Hardison (showing passes): So, I'm Todd Laurence? (girls flock to Hardison) Ladies, please, look. For the last time, I am not the tailback for the cornhuskers. Go! I don't even know what a cornhusker is.

- - - - -

Rucker: And all you need is a product?

Sophie: Well, that's what they are: Products. You get the girls with Trianna, you get the boys with MMA. And there's always another fresh-faced princess ready to go through the singing/dancing mill in Florida. Occasionally, we let one be a lesbian, keeps the press on their toes

- - - - -

Hardison: What? What? W-what was I supposed to do? It was cousin Jimmy.

Sophie: He's right. We couldn't have planned for that.

Hardison: Look, you know what I can do? I can re-task a satellite, I can get a level 3 NSA clearance, but I can't hack a hick

- - - - -

Eliot: All right, it doesn't matter. What do we do now?

Parker: We can move the Howorth.

Eliot: We're not moving the Howorths. All right? This is their home. That means something to people here.

Sophie: Yeah, we can't babysit them forever.

Nate: We've taken out bigger players than this. You know, there's got to be some way, something we can...

Eliot: No, no! I take the dive.

Sophie: You sure?

Hardison: Give me some time, okay? I've found some funny business in Rucker's accounts. I can move some things.

Eliot: Forget the fact that we just got beat by Barney Fife, all right? This is the right move. Tactically it's the right move. You all know that. (walks away)

none of them want to see eliot hurt more than he needs to or see him go down like that and I cry

alec ‘give me five minutes I will do literally anything for eliot’ hardison

- - - - -

Sophie: Hey. Listen, you-you don't have to do this, you know. Nate's gonna come up with something.

Eliot: I'm losing a fight, Sophie. I'm not diving on a grenade. I'll be all right.

Sophie: Yeah, I know. I'm not talking physically.

Eliot: I think my ego can handle it.

Sophie: Look, you told me that it's about control, about knowing that you're never gonna be the victim. And that's what keeps you going, right?

Eliot: You think I'm upset 'cause I got to let this guy kick my ass? I learned a long time ago, you can't control the violence. I can take the punishment. That's what I do. What I need to control is not out there. (touches his chest) It's here. Always.

(Sophie smiles and walks away)

- - - - -

hardison holds eliots face before he fights I never noticed that before

+ eliot’s hair is curly when it’s wet/when he’s sweaty. this means he blowdries his hair on a regular basis. eliot, as a part of taking control of himself and his life after moreau took interest in self care and taking care of his hair in this essay I will-

- - - - -

one thing I love about this is that eliot doesn’t have a six pack (see this commentary I made with a few lovely additions by my mutuals)

- - - - -

Jack: Where's Rucker?

Hardison: Oh, the Iowa State Police just got a tip that a fugitive is headed into their jurisdiction. And I'm pretty sure crossing state lines with a bag full of cash won't look too good.

Parker: Especially when they find the little surprise in his trunk.

[Flashback, Pawn Shop]

Parker: I need guns. (dumping money on counter) $6,000 worth. And one of those.

LMFAO THERE WAS A TUBA TOO

- - - - -

Doctor (examining Eliot): You took a hell of a pounding. We should get you a CT scan. You could have internal bleeding.

Jack: You let yourself get hammered like that on purpose? That's a hell of a lot of punishment to take.

Sophie: That's what he does.

- - - - -

eliot held the rope up for parker to step under when they were getting out of the ring

- - - - -

Sophie (to Parker): Pork rind? They're actually pretty good. (parker shakes her head and rubs her stomach) You sure?

sophie nO

#leverage #leverage 2.02 #leverage 2x02 #the tap out job #the tap-out job #leverage season 2 #season 2 #notable moments #mine

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notdeadjack · 4 years ago

Text

annual rec list 2020

13 fandoms represented:

Part 1: 55 fics total

Leverage: 13 fics Star Wars: 3 fics Star Trek: 2 fics Haikyuu!!: 13 fics Teen Wolf: 3 fics Jurassic Park: 1 fic The Witcher: 1 fic Merlin: 3 fics Borderlands: 2 fics She-Ra and the Princesses of Power: 2 fics Naruto: 8 fics Dorohedoro: 3 fics

Part 2:

Boku no Hero Academia: 211 fics here

If the read more breaks, I am truly sorry oTL

List split into two bc tumblr called me out on reading too many fics and wouldn’t let me post all of them at once boo

Leverage

https://archiveofourown.org/works/799639 your body is a war zone but you are not a ruin by postcardmystery 2k, Alec/Parker/Eliot,

“Make me a sandwich,” Parker says, so he does.

“Cut the damn wire,” says Hardison, so he does.

“Jump,” says Parker, says Hardison, and he never needs to ask, “How high?”

https://archiveofourown.org/works/12475840 Well Worn, Well Loved by BabylonsFall 3k, Alec/Parker/Eliot, fluff, sharing clothes,

You would think, given everyone’s space issues this wouldn’t be a thing. But it was. And none of them were complaining.

(Everyone steals each others clothes. They're all surprisingly okay with it.)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/6363724 Hotel Heart by Laughsalot3412 45k, Alec/Parker/Eliot, canon-AU, psychic abilities, mind rape,

He had a sniper rifle scoping the girl’s bright eyes and the guy’s smile.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/1407967 The Safe and Sound Job by flutterflap 15k, Alec/Parker/Eliot, injury, h/c,

Eliot Spencer doesn't do hospitals.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/3861028 like a map of a place you've never been by bydaybreak 24k, Alec/Parker/Eliot, pining, slow burn, fake/pretend relationship,

He knows it’d be so fucking easy, if he’d let himself. Because he’s easy for them, has been since that first job, since the day he hauled Hardison’s ass out of a building about to explode. It’d be so easy.

So he won’t.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/3928687 the warmth of your doorways by gyzym 3k, Alec/Parker/Eliot,

Don't let me in with no intention to keep me.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/1357111 Old Dog by thingswithwings 16k, Alec/Parker/Eliot, service submission, bdsm, mild puppy play,

Eliot's their hitter, and taking on any physical threats to the team is his job, but there's something beyond professionalism – even beyond the obvious fact that Eliot relishes the fight itself – in the way he puts his body between Parker or Alec and any potential threat. Alec has a good view of Eliot's back on a lot of jobs, and he reads something in the tight line of Eliot's shoulder, in the slow turn of his foot as he steps into a fighting stance.

Something possessive.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/8823406 Motion Parallax by Laughsalot3412 8k, Alec/Parker/Eliot, outsider pov,

So, apparently Amy’s boss was part of a criminal gang.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/9071065 Wash the sorrow from off my skin by Keiya 2k, Alec/Parker/Eliot, soulmates,

He lays on his bed and knows without a doubt that his soulmates can read Fucking Genius on their skin, or maybe just Genius, but Fucking gives a ring to it.

Because he is, baby, he is.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/2854310 Love (By Any Other Name) by ChouetteAnanas41 5k, Alec/Parker/Eliot,

Eliot fell in love on a Tuesday.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/3928888 Pancakes by saavik13 7k, Alec/Parker/Eliot, mentions of rape and child abuse, h/c,

Parker can't ever ask a simple question.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/3556844 No Time Like the Present by waterbird13 22k, Alec/Parker/Eliot, past Moreau/Eliot, violence, murder, child murder,

Eliot's past with Damien Moreau is even more complicated than most people know about, and of course that would come up again when dealing with his incredibly complicated present feelings for Parker and Hardison. Eliot isn't a hundred percent sure how love works, but he's pretty positive it exists only to bite him in the ass.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/4542576 Guard Your Eggshell Heart by letsgostealafandom 14k, Alec/Parker/Eliot, praise kink,

Parker had a theory, and her theory was this: it made Eliot really happy when they noticed the things he did for them. It made Eliot happy when they made sure he knew they noticed the things he did for them. And when Eliot thought they didn't notice, it made him- not unhappy, but something worse, something like he knew that was all he could expect from anyone and he'd resigned himself to it a while back. Once she'd noticed it, she couldn't stop, and the realization of how often they took Eliot for granted made her stomach twist uncomfortably.

Star Wars

https://archiveofourown.org/works/5783371 This is Called Falling by Cartopathy 24k, Finn/Poe, h/c,

Poe stood and he walked, remembering suddenly his only friend on the planet was gone and there was little hope of finding a town, much less hospitality.

And yet he walked in hope.

There was a stormtrooper—he needed to find the stormtrooper. ________________________________

“Was Poe important to you? You were close in the Resistance?” Rey asked.

Finn cleared his throat. “Yes, because I’m in the Resistance and he was in the Resistance so we've known each other for a while. He was important to me, yes.”

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18546007 Stop Your Fear by gloss 12k, Finn/Poe, sex pollen, dub-con, public sex, pining,

Imprisoned by space pirates, Finn and Poe get to know each other better. When Finn gets whammied with sex pollen, Poe helps him out, not entirely unselfishly.

Afterward, they try to clean up the mess and take care of each other.

please note: sex is entirely consensual, but within a compromised situation. Dub-con, not non con.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/6904006 Against Disaster by gloss 29k, Finn/Poe, pining, PTSD,

Not that he loved Finn. There was no way he could love someone he'd spoken to for all of ten minutes, no matter how lifechanging those minutes proved to be.

He loved the feeling of it all. The thrill, the novelty, the rush. Everything he'd shared with Finn had been more exciting than the rest of his life put together, and his life had been far from sedate.

That's what he told himself, anyway.

__ Poe's a disaster and Finn's still got a lot of brainwashing to work through.

Star Trek

https://archiveofourown.org/works/849107 Treasures by yeaka 17k, Kirk/Spock, AU, pon farr, soul bond,

Sometimes the other Vulcans wonder how Spock managed to obtain such an exotic bondmate, and sometimes Spock wonders himself.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/11697684 Echolocation by Darksknight 8k, Kirk/Spock,

Kirk and Spock don’t realize that they’ve bonded right away. The rest of the crew is a different story.

Haikyuu!!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21762448 discovering the smile of one kageyama tobio by Emlee_J 8k, Hinata/Kageyama, fluff,

Kageyama blinks once before a grin of his own spreads over his face. Shouyou’s breath halts in his lungs at the sight, and he wills for time to stop, just so he can drink it in. He sees it sometimes, when they’re playing - Kageyama’s fierce smile when they pull a combo off just right, when they show their opponents how possible the impossible can really be. But then there’s another serve, another rally, and the moment is gone.

'Shame', Shouyou thinks to himself, as he lets his eyes roam over Kageyama’s stupidly happy face, taking in the creases that are from joy rather than frowning, for a change. 'It’s a really nice smile.'

In which it's their third, and final, year in high school and Hinata has only one goal: to make Kageyama smile outside of volleyball.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/5479973 75% Useless Pining by ravelqueen 4k, Nishinoya/Asahi, pining, hair kink,

People often ask Asahi why he keeps his hair long. He gives them a different reason every time, from being too lazy to cut it, over saying he thinks it looks nice on him, to just ducking his head and hoping they'll move on.

The actual reason is pettier and smaller and has nothing to do with his fashion sense and everything to do with Nishinoya.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/2330126 Exception to the rule by Mysecretfanmoments 2k, Sugawara/Daichi,

In which Sugawara Koushi just so happens to belong to the .001% of guys Daichi might conceivably fall for, and it takes a confused third party for Daichi to realize it.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21580309 Just Another by Mooifyourecows 103k, Sugawara/Daichi, drama, humour, childhood friends, flip-flopping,

Everything is changing. But in the midst of exams, plans for the future, nationals, and a tumultuous new fracture to his family life, at least Sawamura Daichi can always count on his friendship with Sugawara Koushi to stay the same.

Or so he thought.

(RN: some of the best flirting i’ve ever read. also, Sugawara’s family? A++)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/2940728 boys by buu 5k, Sugawara/Daichi,

Before, if Suga had been asked to pick a type, he would have hummed and thought it over, maybe said something vague like “nice eyes” or “nice legs” or “a good personality”. Now, he can only think “Daichi”.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/3189353 Perfectionism by Mysecretfanmoments 2k, Sugawara/Daichi, practise kissing, accidental boners,

“I just wish it was something you could practice before you have to… perform.” He narrows his eyes, imagining it. “Like a CPR class.”

Suga raises an eyebrow. “You want to practice it. Beforehand.”

“Yeah. Are you offering?”

((Daichi doesn't like to be bad at things--kissing included--and Suga is willing to help him practice.))

https://archiveofourown.org/works/6411370 Jealousy by surveycorpsjean 7k, Sugawara/Daichi, jealousy,

It’s so horrid- it feels like sludge in Suga’s stomach, like poison in his veins, like an itch behind his skin.

It burns, it stings. He hates it, he hates it more than anything, but he can’t help it.

He’s hopelessly in love.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/7496004 Hinata Shouyou's Fucking Face by Esselle 17k, Hinata/Kageyama,

'Kageyama doesn't know why Hinata's face rubs him the wrong way—it just does. So one day, in an attempt to pinpoint exactly what it is that makes Hinata's Shouyou's fucking face so fucking annoying, he begins to catalogue all the things that really tick him off.

This proves to be startlingly revelatory.'

A thought-provoking study and critical analysis of Hinata Shouyou's stupid face, by Kageyama Tobio.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/1831732 need a friend you can fuck, i can be that by readbetweenthelions 5k, Nishinoya/Tanaka, friends with benefits,

noya and tanaka are just really good friends who have a bit of good, not-exactly-clean friendly sex sometimes. here's the first time it happens.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/3332642 it's fine by lokh 2k, Nishinoya/Tanaka, phone sex, just dudes being bros,

have you ever wanted to jack off but you're in the middle of talking to someone and you can't exactly tell them that you've gotta jack off so you either sit through it awkwardly or make an excuse to leave? imagine that they found out and tell you that it's fine if you just jack off mid-conversation. now imagine that it's not you and it's tanaka and noya. that's the whole plot.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/5103794 find out what we're made of by sweggscellent 2k, Nishinoya/Tanaka, first kiss, frottage,

It’s weird, noticing things about your best friend when your best friend is literally the goofiest person on the planet, but Noya does; the swell of his powerful calves, the line of his back when his tee shirts cling to it with sweat, the strangely graceful determination on his face when they’re up against a particularly strong team. It almost makes Noya uncomfortable.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/6205864 Rule 4 by mean_whale 15k, Nishinoya/Tanaka, friends with benefits, friends to lovers,

Nishinoya and Tanaka are tricked into watching gay porn, and curiosity gets the better of them.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/5979136 Roundabout by Shaples 12k, Nishinoya/Tanaka, past asanoya, post-canon, emotional h/c,

“Actually I, uh. I was thinking I might stick around. Like, long term? I mean, if you haven’t already found someone to rent the other room, and you still. You know. Want to live together.”

Tanaka’s eyes widened in surprise. “I thought that you and Asahi were-”

“Yeah,” Noya said. “We aren’t.”

“Oh,” he said. And when Noya didn’t look up from the label on his beer bottle, Tanaka breathed out, “Shit.”

https://archiveofourown.org/works/13344624 And They Were Roommates by Hella_Queer 7k, Hinata/Kageyama, first time, trans character,

“I can like...eat you out if you want.”

Silence surrounds them. This was it. Three years of friendship down the tubes. Kageyama would move out, or demand he move out, and he'd be forever branded as the Pervert Roommate. No one would talk to him ever again. His life was over!

“Okay.”

“Whaaaaa?!”

Teen Wolf

https://archiveofourown.org/works/22812937 Five Times Derek Heard Something He Wished He Hadn’t, and the One Time He Did by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella) 14k, Stiles/Derek, 5+1, pining,

“This place is hell,” Derek decided. “This place is absolutely hell.”

How was it possible he’d gone so many years of his life without hearing anything nearly as over the top as he had just visiting Stiles at school? This had to be some kind of record for the most disgusting things he’d ever overheard.

(I mean really, the title says it all lol)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27872045 Can You Feel A Whole New Part of Your World? by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella) 53k, Stiles/Derek, AU, neighbours, fluff,

“Can you hear me singing in the shower?” Stiles blurted out, because he had to know, now. If one of his neighbours had slid that note under his door, then it meant Parrish as another neighbour could hear him, too! He had to know if this was all a huge joke and one person had walked by and overheard him and decided to fuck with him.

Or if everyone could hear him and he now had to leave the country.

Parrish gave him a weird look at the question, but answered anyway, making Stiles’ plans to leave the country speed up in his mind.

“Of course I can. You’re actually not bad. Though you have been singing a lot of Frozen lately, getting kind of tired of the soundtrack.”

“Oh my God!” Stiles shouted in his face.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/6156885 you're never too much of an old dog to teach a duckling a new trick by driedupwishes 2k, gen, light angst,

“Y’know, it’d be real neat if someone gave me a gun,” Stiles says.

And Chris does.

Jurassic Park

https://archiveofourown.org/works/5199038 5 Times the Raptors Tried to Kill Miriam, and 1 Time They Didn’t by JulisCaesar 22k, OCs, gen, blood, science, freaking dinosaurs heck yeah!

Miriam thought the job working for InGen sounded perfect. Tropical island, good pay, first dibs on publications… At least, she thought so until she found out that she was the only behaviorist on staff. Once the eggs hatched, it became all she could do to keep up–with the dinosaurs, the science, and her health.

The Witcher

https://archiveofourown.org/works/22247587 swallow my breath and take what is mine by anacaoris 6k, Jaskier/Geralt, first time, sugar baby!geralt,

“It began with the baths.

It had been so easy to dismiss at first. Some attempted to win him over with kindness-with-a-catch when in need of something, a bed for the night, a pouch of coin, a good drink to lower the cost.”

Jaskier likes to take care of Geralt. Geralt very quickly takes notice.

Merlin (BBC)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/7287 In Want of a Wife by syllic 43k, Merlin/Arthur,

When Merlin first hears that Arthur has been betrothed, his ribs pull inwards with an odd little hitch, and he only allows himself a second—which he needs in order to coordinate spinning in place without falling on his face—before he’s running to Arthur’s chambers.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/2193282 The Frog Prince by Clea2011 58k, Merlin/Arthur, canon AU, disability,

Canon era AU. A teenage Arthur is hit by a mutation spell intended for Uther. Unable to speak and hidden away by his father because of his appearance, Arthur is left lonely and isolated. A few years later Gaius takes on a new apprentice, someone who can understand Arthur and see through the enchantment. Someone with magic.

But breaking the spell was never going to be easy.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/835089 Such a Life, a Heart, a Mind as Thine by dreamlittleyo 42k, Merlin/Arthur, sex pollen, first time, non-con, soul bond, guilt,

In which Arthur inadvertently triggers an ancient magic, but he does not face the consequences alone.

Borderlands

https://archiveofourown.org/works/8628043 How They Met Themselves by Wheat From Chaff (wheatfromchaff) 205k, Timothy/Rhys, slow burn, past abuse,

Rhys wants to change Pandora. He wants to make things better, build things up. He wants, more than anything, to prove Jack wrong.

Tim just wants to get paid.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/9951275 you'll find me buried by Wheat From Chaff (wheatfromchaff) 7k, Jack/Timothy, fight club, hate sex, dub-con,

It's not every day you face yourself in the ring.

She-Ra and the Princesses of Power

https://archiveofourown.org/works/16748245 tooth for a tooth by nowweareunstoppable 3k, Adora/Catra, exploration, first time, biting,

Now, though, Adora was on top of her, and her chest heaved in a way that was decidedly not sleepy. She pleaded with Catra with her eyes, then her words, “Please, I just-” before cutting off, not knowing what to even ask for.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/19767655 More than Words by SimonKilnsworth 5k, Kyle/Rogelio, first time,

Rogelio gets woken up in the night as Kyle struggles with his feelings.

Naruto

https://archiveofourown.org/series/37259 Ten Years Gone series by 100demons 80k, gen, time-travel,

Thirty year old Kakashi was supposed to have been killed by Pein during the Invasion. Instead, he wakes up in the body of his twenty year old self.

(It gets a lot more complicated.)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/25538635 Better It Be You by cricket_aria 4k, Kakashi/Sakura, dodging arranged marriage,

When Sakura's parents realize that she would be ill-trained for any job in the civilian world should she ever be too badly injured to remain a ninja they decide to try to arrange a marriage for her with one of the members of a major clan, so that at least if that day comes she'll still have value within the ninja community. Too bad they didn't discuss it with her first.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/14143890 the chosen fruit by theformerone 51k, Sakura/Shikamaru, AU, honey pot, sex work, exhibitionism, implied non-con, kidnapping, drama, politics,

Sakura is a rōnin, but she's good enough with a blade to find work. She's trusted at Fukiage because she's a nameless woman who can't afford to bite any hand that feeds her.

Shikamaru's awful attitude makes him a favorite in the teahouse. He makes his money on his back but his real trade is information. There is rot in Fire Country. Shikamaru sees it, and he is going to burn it at the roots.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/16304705 Being Over-Prepared is Impossible (and other mottos) by Pleasedial123 gen, 40k, canon-AU, BAMF!team 7,

In one world, Kakashi awoke, felt grieved at being assigned a team he sees his own in, and he let that grief make him a lazy teacher. He saw himself in Sasuke, Obito in Naruto, and Rin in Sakura. He woke, saw himself in them, and took a large step back, regretting accepting them as his new team. In another world he was quite hands off, merely a watcher because it was so very painful to watch. He saw himself and all his mistakes in this new team of his.

In this world, Kakashi awoke, saw the similarities, and instantly panicked. He suddenly realized what he had done, passing a team. Kakashi was left scrambling not to repeat old mistakes and regrets. This team would not suffer the fate of his team.

In this world, simply put, Kakashi became a teacher. This is the starting of a new Team seven.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/13690269 there to welcome you home by theformerone 1k, Sakura/Neji/Shikamaru, fluff,

Sakura gives birth to their daughter in the bathtub in the main house on the Nara compound.

Neji comes home and nearly has a stroke.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/14902124 brown eyes steal me by theformerone 10k, Kiba/Shikamaru, canon-au, arranged marriage, mutual pining,

"You planted a -,"

"I planted a tree, Ino, I know, I was there."

"Kousa," she says, finishing as if he never interrupted. "Not very original, but cute. You think that'll be what you name your firstborn?"

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18913750 gonna give you all my love, boy by theformerone 2k, Sakura/Shikamaru, first time,

Shikamaru is a (maybe ace?) virgin. Sakura is not either of those things. It still all works out. Sexually, speaking.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18756313 Consideration: Or, The Smart Kids Get (It) Together by cairn 12k, Sakura/Shikamaru, friends to lovers,

Noun: Consideration 1. Careful thought, typically over a period of time. 2. A fact or a motive taken into account in deciding or judging something. 3. Law: (in a contractual agreement) anything given or promised or forborne by one party in exchange for the promise or undertaking of another.

"You want to give yourself cancer?" she had asked.

"Good afternoon, Sakura," he'd drawled back. "So nice to see you so unexpectedly."

Dorohedoro

https://archiveofourown.org/works/25767034 I Am Intrinsically No Good by Medegela 2k, Noi/Shin, accidental voyeurism, sexual tension, masturbation,

They had recently renewed their partnership for the third time and things he faintly noticed and always dismissed before were amplified. He knew now that she also enjoyed watching him, he knew that the same kind of release ran through her when she saw him, and he was sure of that because of the contract.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/12192696 Secondhand Smoke by dirtbag -1k, Noi/Shin, unresolved romantic tension, magical shotgunning,

They sure do this a lot, for something that's so endlessly frustrating.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/12387897 Love Is a Verb by dirtbag 4k, Noi/Shin, pegging,

Shin can’t figure out why Noi is so insistent on being careful with him tonight when he’s pretty sure he’s come out of her bedroom mildly concussed before.

#notdead recs #rec list

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