#congratulations to the three people who actually read the whole thing

[eluxcastar]

The One and Only

── ୨୧：arlecchino x reader

୨୧﹑synopsis :: a collection of moments from Arlecchino's recollections of the former Harbinger

୨୧﹑genre :: Idk actually

୨୧﹑content :: fem reader, reader is a harbinger, not proofread

୨୧﹑words :: 2.8k

threw this together on a whim because I missed these two I realised it's been like nine months since I wrote one of repetition I was like I wanna play around with these people in their dynamic. you don't have to necessarily have read one of repetition for it to make sense I don't think but I have a bad habit of assuming people know things they don't so take that with a grain of salt

one of repetition

Snezhnaya has never been immune to the curse of rumours that run rampant among its people. Some spread like wildfire and others die out before they gain enough traction to matter. When they somehow manage to make their way to the House of the Hearth, it matters—Mother is liable to find out, and that's when it's revealed whether or not she spread them herself.

There have never been more rumours about anyone but the first Harbinger. Arlecchino realised that when she was young.

They tell the daring tales of a tyrant decorated in well-worn armour able to bring the nation to its knees at their feet with nothing more than a pyro vision and a claymore.

Many of the kids at the House share the same sentiment. Brighella is terrifying, and though they'd like their approval, they never want to meet them. The few who have met them say they're weird.

Supposedly the child of the Tsaritsa, you have been tainted by the ever-waining loveless God of Snezhnaya and become little more than a heartless warmonger seeking absolution. You have not even removed your helmet in three centuries nor shown your face. You are fussy, childish, impulsive and arrogant like your whole reign of tyranny is a giant temper tantrum, and you'll only stop once you've realised the nation that has been dwindling ever so gradually will one day be reduced to a wasteland.

Maybe then, the ashes left behind by the fire you let tear apart this icy world will be your single lesson.

Arlecchino meets you for the first time at the celebrations for her ascendance to her Mother's position. Every Harbinger gathers at the behest of the Tsaritsa, an important event demanding their presence. All nine others and the Director are called to return, and along with them, you appear clad in armour, even on a formal occasion. You are feared, yes, but undoubtedly lavished in praise and feigned respect meant only to appease you. People seek to impress you because you are the first, an immortal Harbinger with the nation under their thumb.

Though foolish, she finds she cannot help but be swept up in the glory of it all, the appeal of having a warmonger's approval if only because it feels like the only good sign she'd ever get. Her ascendence is not born of admiration, merely convenience, a way to escape her Father and gain power. She is young and inexperienced and fills the shoes of her Mother with the grace of a newborn fawn. For just a moment, she could revel in receiving your praise, then go right back to indulging the bitterness she associates so heavily with your name. Whatever you have that sends shivers to the very core of grown men, she wants it, and having you pay some attention to her feels right. It cannot keep her from detesting you for possessing it.

You touched her shoulder once with an unnaturally warm gloved hand—a silent congratulations, she tells herself—it is the only way to justify her racing heart as you lean down and speak barely above a whisper. "Do no disappoint me, Arlecchino."

Everything takes a backseat as a fire is lit in the pit of her stomach, the drive to wipe that infuriating smirk she knows is hidden beneath your mask off your face. If she didn't know better, she could almost convince herself you thought you owned her.

For all her staring, however, she can't recall another moment of that night you spared her more than a single glance in her direction before turning away. It was Pierro who pinned Arlecchino's delusion to her chest and welcomed her, the Director, not the Tsaritsa's child. You merely took it upon yourself to congratulate her— professionally— as any colleague would.

The first time Arlecchino saw your face, she could not believe her eyes. You lack the odd companion she has long grown used to seeing by your side. She does not even recognise you at first, sitting in a chair in Pierro's quarters in plain clothes, your helmet discarded at your feet. In your hand is a glass, the liquid inside sloshing as you motion with your hand in some general direction amid your conversation.

It almost makes her uncomfortable to see, like staring down at your severed head pathetically rolling back and forth under the sole of your boot as you entertain yourself with it. It does not roll far before the adornments resist, and you don't fight them, instead rolling it back. Your only response to her gawking is to quirk your eyebrow at her.

You regard her with curiosity, though she would be remiss not to notice the glint in your eyes. "Arlecchino," you say, perhaps some mockery of greeting her.

Since she met you, her poker face has only gotten better, though her short pause is a dead giveaway that she has to think to recall your title. She still does not quite believe the woman she sees is you. "Brighella."

A smile tugs at your lips, and another sip of the drink in your glass marks your second pause. "Are you lost, or did I interrupt something?" you ask, though you turn to Pierro for the answer to the question.

Arlecchino takes a breath, determined not to let you get away with speaking to her that way without seeing any bite— "I called her," Pierro interrupts her before she can even say a word, and your eyes flicker back to her.

"I'll take my leave then," you say, gathering your things. You hook your fingers under your helmet and pick it up like nothing is wrong, as if you don't notice how Arlecchino stares and tries to remind herself that it should be obvious someone was under there. 

The only thing that helps her remind herself nobody else could sport that cocky smirk in Pierro's office without receiving a cold glare. He merely watches as you down the rest of your drink in one mouthful and leave the glass for him on his desk before stalking off. You stop only to put your helmet back on.

There's a sigh once you leave the room, and Pierro silently collects the glass.

The second time Arlecchino meets you, it is more arranged: a trip down the halls leads her to a stray fatuu bearing a message for her. You want to see Arlecchino in your chambers. There's no indication of why, and the man delivering the message had no inclination to ask before scurrying off. She cannot even say she blames him. She's seen the way you speak to the lesser fatuus before.

Arlecchino arrives in the corridor to hear the unusual noises in your room. It is like someone is rummaging through your belongings with reckless abandon and tossing whatever is in their way aside. 

She eyes the door with particularly harsh scrutiny. If there is an intruder, rifling through your room is the most effective way to get things they might want, and she can't allow them an opportunity to escape.

That is until Arlecchino hears your voice from inside, and you exaggerate a frustrated groan. You sound on the verge of tearing your hair out.

Then she braces herself to knock, and the room falls starkly silent as you register someone is standing outside.

"Who's there?" You pose the question like an accusation despite having to know you would have guests. You invited her, after all— demanded her, really.

Through gritting teeth, she finds the will to bite her tongue and say nothing about your attitude rearing its ugly head again. You find a way to always be like this. The moment she gains some semblance of understanding of your motives, you screw it up by acting superior again, like you genuinely believe the world should fall helplessly at the mercy of your whims and run as you will it to. 

"It's Arlecchino," she responds, the animosity she wishes to show neatly tucked away beneath a layer of barely cordial stoicism.

"Oh," is the only sound from inside, followed by footsteps and a light thud as if you place something down, perhaps one of the things it sounded like you were moving. "Are you alone?" 

For a moment, she almost began to wonder if you had forgotten her.

The question confuses her. "Yes."

"You may enter. The door is unlocked."

Arlecchino does not waste another moment before she opens the door to greet your unmasked face. This time, she recognises you from the pattern of your scars to the odd look on your face, though the off feeling staring into your eyes gives her strikes immediately with the same confusing force. 

It should be less jarring the second time, and yet, as she slowly closes the door behind her, she cannot help but scan the room in search of your helmet.

Your room is a damn mess, probably because you just tore it apart for reasons beyond her. She spies your helmet discarded by the bed on its side, hollow and lifeless and so unlike she usually sees it perched atop a suit of armour brimming with self-assured grandiose.

"I was worried he'd followed you all the way here."

She grasps at who you're implying almost immediately, yet can't say she understands why. It can't be anyone but the man in armour you brought back from the abyss who follows you around like a stray puppy. 

"Are you referring to the—" she also realises she has no idea what it is that follows you around— "man you took in...?"

"Yes." You answer without notice for her apprehension, or perhaps so used to it that it no longer seems worth commenting on. "He has a habit of stealing faces, and though I already told him he can't have mine, he's determined to get it."

Stealing...faces...?

"You're probably wondering why I wanted to speak with you." All too quickly, you change the subject, jumping from whatever you just said to a completely different train of thought as you turn away from her to find something amidst the clutter on your dresser. Your body obscures her view, unable to see what you're doing.

She saves you the discomfort of having a hole burned into your back from her gaze, instead taking the opportunity to look around. Do you always live in this dump? In a way, it's not hard to believe; your behaviour is reminiscent of a spoiled child who never learned to clean up their messes, yet she expected you would treat your living space with the same methodical attention as your subordinates.

"It wasn't included alongside your message," she responds absently, merely engaging because she must. Her mind is occupied, overlooking the pile of armour dumped on the floor like junk metal.

You place a glass down behind her as you speak, the sound unmistakable to her ears, compounded by the sound of something pouring. "Intentionally. You would never have come if you knew why I wanted to see you."

She cannot help but glare at the back of your head. "Is that so?"

"Indeed."

When you turn to her, she cannot help the way her attention draws to the two glasses in your hands—glasses you have no doubt filled with alcohol. Pantalone taught her such a trick not long after he became a Harbinger, and she has not a single doubt that you learned it from him as well.

While your company isn't paying attention, fill a glass and offer it to them. It's rude to refuse once it's been poured. It'll keep them put.

It didn't occur to her until after you extended the glass in your left hand to her that she realised you had trapped her in the conversation should she strive to maintain her pleasant façade. Her fist clenches tightly at her side, nails digging into her palm with a sharp pain.

Arlecchino takes the glass with a tight smile, a wordless exchange. The look in your eyes tells her you know it, too.

"I hope you didn't bring me here for a frivolous venture." Her own warning, one she feels she has earned over the past few minutes.

"No," you say, swirling the liquid in your glass as a means of entertaining yourself. "I simply wanted to observe you."

"How forward." She cannot help it by the time she realises she's said it. There is obviously disapproval in her voice.

Despite her venom, you only smile at her dumbly as if you don't notice the tone of her voice or the furrow of her brows. "Isn't it?" a rhetorical question. You let out a light chuckle at yourself. "It's strange, I thought the one to overtake the Knave would be a little more like that old hag, but it turns out you couldn't be more different if you tried."

This is what you wanted to say?

Arlecchino's eyes narrow. "What do you mean by that?" 

"Oh, come on, are you blind?" Your penchant for mockery shines through your words whether you meant it to or not. "Surely you've noticed by now."

"I don't aspire to become my mother," she retorts just a touch more harshly than she meant to.

"I meant it as a compliment, don't you realise?" you question, "The House has run this way for years because she made it that way. I'm sure many of the children she bought are itching to go home." Your musings lead somewhere—they must—and yet you insist on meandering your way there at a leisurely pace to draw it out. It's as if you wait and watch with eyes filled with curiosity for her to guess, but she makes no attempt to. "Will you return them to their families?"

Arlecchino considered it many times. The thought is appealing. It would be like setting her siblings—now her children—free. She grew up alongside them, played with them as a child and now presides over them.

Wanting to stall, Arlecchino takes a sip from the glass before speaking.

"No," she answers. 

It's not possible. 

If not a monetary figure or tangible reason, it quickly became a stark impossibility when she considered that someone would have to explain why the orphans the Knave had acquired carefully raised were being returned. 

Many would live in harsh conditions, some would die or merely be sold again, and some were too broken down by motherly love to find their peace in the common world again. 

It's not worth the pain of trying.

Something in her answer piques your interest, and she notices your hardly disguised intrigue almost immediately. Years of wearing a helmet to hide your emotions have certainly done a number on how much you are able to hide them naturally. 

"I thought for certain you would say yes."

"You were incorrect."

You quirk an eyebrow at her as if to challenge that idea. "Was I?" you question.

Were you?

"Yes," she says before she can think of anything to disprove that. Time made her aware of the many impossibilities she had spent years fantasising about, but she would not share that with you.

"You're certainly gentler than her," you remark, almost a passing comment as it's quickly overshadowed, "Less of a pain in the ass to talk to as well. I'd have to chase her for days to get her to come talk to me."

Arlecchino suddenly understands why the room is in such a state of disarray—you hadn't expected her. Instead, you were tearing your room apart under the impression you would have days to clean it up before she found her way to you. It seems that punctuality is a burden to you. If nothing else, it's motivation to never be late.

She finds herself aimlessly staring into the glass in her hand, a lesser part of her mind trying to determine what's in it, though too clouded by conflict to place an answer anytime soon. Instead, she stands and listens to whatever you insist on saying, lost in your words and the musings of the past, your unique knowledge of what came before her.

The observations of now the piercing gaze that threatens to spill her soul out before the two of you and dissect it as you please while she watches at the mercy of your rank, the lingering respect that refuses to leave her from years of seeing you as an ideal.

Talking to you is something quite bizarre; knowing you is something even stranger. 

She may never forget the time you spent intrigued by the young orphan who overthrew her mother to take her place at your side as your colleague.

CROSSPOSTED ON AO3

[redleavesinthewind]

elliot's 2023 fic wrap up

2022 version

alright friends it is once again time for me to review the (many) fics i read in the previous year and try to write a more or less concise rec list of my absolute faves (i wish i didn't have to chose but heh i'm not gonna subject anyone to 332 fics in 1 post - also wait only 332 fics? that's like. over 100 less than last year, what the fuck. anyway)

okay now first the part that interests no one but me (yes you may skip this) and that's the numbers part! i'm not making a whole elaborate spreadsheet to then not throw around cool numbers. anyway.

i've read around 4,932k words in 332 fics across 18 fandoms. that is much less than last year, and yeah, i've been generally less productive in 2023 but we don't have to talk about it. at least i have more variety of fandoms this time (let's ignore that it's only 2 more and also that from fandom 13 on there's only 1 fic per fandom)

i started out the year strong with 847k words across 72 fic in february (followed by 753k across 42 fics in january, and 621k words across 63 fics in march). it goes downhill for the rest of the year. eh it wasn't my year so what! 2024 is gonna be more filled with fic reading again!!!

my top 3 fandoms are so entirely unsurprising to me i am almost disappointed in myself. when did i become so predictable. top fandom is young royals with 166 fics! congratulations young royals, you are a very persistent hyperfixation, you didn't peter out after 2 months like i expected. Spot number 2 is taken by avatar the last airbender with 41 fics! giant leap there, but it's also funny because i fell into an atla rabbit hole late 2023 (as i do every few years) and it still got up to 41 fics despite uni not allowing me to read last semester (uni is evil). Same as last year, spn takes third place with 38 fics. speaking of persistent hyperfixations.......... *big sigh*

and that is it the boring part is over let's go to the fun section LET'S REC SOME FIIIIIICCCCSSSSSSS (under the cut)

JANUARY

bet you you'll ... (noraverse) (series) by @gh0sthugs | young royals, wilmon | teen&up | 52k words

a kid fic!! and such a sweet one too! i'm kinda weak for kid fics ngl, and nora is so sweet and wonderful, and the relationship that slowly forms between wille and simon is beautiful and comfortable. this whole series is just such a good time

spreadsheet notes: ah to fall in love with the dilf next door who also happens to be the ex crown prince of the country

A Royal Intervention by AnxiousAnaconda | young royals, wilmon | teen&up | 18k words

erik is being such a dumbass in this one. like, he means well, but he's kinda messing up and pissing people off (understandably). it's nice to get a view on erik that's not portraying him as this perfect guy though, and the fic is actually so much fun to read. and hey, the prime minister of luxembourg gets mentioned, which i was kinda waiting for in yr fic ngl

spreadsheet notes: big sigh... erik you fucking idiot. stop listening to august. also shoutout to xavier bettel apparently (edit: this aged poorly, fuck xavier bettel)

and each slow dusk by @if-fortunate | young royals, wilmon | mature | 49k words

okay. ooookay how do i even begin with this one. ohhh boy. okay. so. world war three. wille gets stuck in bjärstad with simon, many many things happen, it's about finding hope in a horrible situation and trying to live life despite everything falling apart around you. it's incredibly well written and something about it just has me in awe

spreadsheet notes: i don't know what it says about me that this is without a shadow of a doubt the best fic i have ever read in my life

Put Me Back Together and Take My Heart by @notalotgoingonatthisinstant | young royals, wilmon | mature | 50k words

i once again don't know what to say, this one is sooo good. simon is suffering and both wille and i hate it, but... but wille is there for him and ugh, they just... they just can't be apart. a story of reconciliation and healing from both physical and invisible wounds, and of making the right decisions for yourself

spreadsheet notes: ugh. UGH. my guys. MY GUYS. yeah let's go blackmail the queen

Department Six by @thisdiscontentedwinter | teen wolf | gen | 4k words

a fun short one about stiles and danny working for the fbi and being delightfully weird and mysterious

spreadsheet notes: HILARIOUS i'm in love with outsider pov always

FEBRUARY

There Are No Wolves in California by @thisdiscontentedwinter | teen wolf, sterek | gen | 5k words

you know, sometimes you see a fic you know is going to hurt you, and you've never clicked on anything faster. this is definitely one of those fics

spreadsheet notes: let's be wolves today yeah well derek what if i just break down and cry instead

you got my body, i got your body by @prince-simon | young royals, wilmon | explicit | 9k words

this one's technically part of a bigger series (which, definitely read that one too), but i'm highlighting this one cause... damn... this made me feel things... like, gender things... which is really weird cause wille's gender in this is very much different from mine BUT STILL

spreadsheet notes: how almost 9k of pwp gave me so many gender feelings i will never understand

Changing Channels: Queer Premiere by @emeraldcas, @fellshish | spn, deancas | gen | 27k words

this might actually be one of the funniest fics i've ever read. dean and cas are so stupid (affectionately) and all the crossovers are delightful (bonus that i knew all the other shows). everyone go read this it's gonna be the best time

spreadsheet notes: mel and fells have genuinely outdone themselves this is the most hilarious shit i've ever read

Catalyst by @stretchoutfics | young royals | teen&up | 3k words

a backstory for boris! this fic is within a series of other side character ficlets, but this one has a soft spot in my heart

spreadsheet notes: AAAAHHHH HE KNEW ABOUT THE RECKLESS DRIVING BUT DIDN'T BRING IT UP but also... him being a gay man trying to help the queer crown prince navigate his sexuality that's kinda nice actually, like boris understands at least a bit

The most beautiful boy by lovelysarcastic | young royals, wilmon | teen&up | 88k words

there's something incredibly grounding about this fic. the way it develops, the way wille rationalises his thought processes, the way the relationship between wille and simon develops... this fic just kinda sucked me in and spit me out again feeling... content and calm and... it's just... this fic is so beautiful

spreadsheet notes: dude i love this so much??? they're both so stupid??? i love them???

MARCH

All's Fair in Love and Hunting by @badjoices | spn, deancas | mature | 20k words

they're playing gay chicken but also are being incredibly competitive and stupid about it, and i'm just sorry about the shit sam has to witness. so many shenanigans in this fic

spreadsheet notes: they are both so stupid omg

["mi cotufita" started sharing their screen] by @omar-rudeberg | young royals, wilmon | explicit | 60k

so... this is a follow up to one of my favourite fics and it is a delight. very horny but also very sweet? and also for some reason there's porn. fun times! oh, and this fic made me cry. it really has the range

spreadsheet notes: how are they so horny it's so funnyyyyyy, but also if i were wille i could never look linda in the eyes again

A Light To Guide You In The Dark (Warmed By The Fire's Glow) by 80shairmetal | stranger things, harringrove | teen&up | 19k words

this is just... people taking care of each other out of the kindness of their hearts. finding comfort in strangers who become family. growing and helping each other. there's such a beauty to this one

spreadsheet notes: this is just..... comfort

did you see the love in my eyes, oh were you gazing through this disguise? by @tooindecisivetopickaurl | young royals, wilmon | mature | 67k words

fake dating my beloved. they're so in love with each other but they're pretending not to be while pretending... to be? i'm obsessed with them. but they're so respectful with each other and cautious of boundaries and they really are best friends who also happen to be obliviously in love

spreadsheet notes: love a good fake dating au they're so stupid i love them

flash like a setting sun by @playedwright | 911, buddie | explicit | 22k words

because you only realise you're in love with your best friend when you're scared you're losing him. that's the fic. and it's beautiful

spreadsheet notes: oh this is sooooo beautifully written and ugh just <333

Other people's secrets by @sflow-er | young royals, walty & wilmon | mature | 239k words

yooooo hello? so first off this is an outsider pov on wilmon which i am always obsessed with anyways but the focus isn't just on them, this is henry's story. it's a beautiful story about how friendships form and warp and change, how feelings manifest in different ways, how decisions and actions have consequences. it's an incredibly mature take on post-s1, and it's probably my favourite of the year. also ace representation!!!!

spreadsheet notes: ace henry my beloved <33 also love seeing wilmon from an outside perspective! such a good, well thought out fic with lots of healthy comminication <33

APRIL

if i stare too long by @brawlite & @toast-ranger-to-a-stranger | stranger things, harringroveson | explicit | 191k words

i haven't seen st s4 (and probably won't watch it) but that definitely won't stop me from reading harringroveson fic. i mean, who wouldn't look at those three and immediately want to see them together. the way their dynamic is written in this fic is peak, i don't even know what more to say. i also very much trust these authors with billy, and again i wasn't disappointed. there's just something in his head that's intriguing.

spreadsheet notes: this whole fic is such a vibe it makes me feel of hot summer chillin

MAY

Rewrite the Stars (series) by @in-amor-veritas | young royals, wilmon | mature | 137k words

definitely one of the highlights of the year, simon's whole life in new york... those scenes, they just show such a wonderful life simon has built for himself, and his relationship with wille doesn't change it, but he manages to fit in (after, you know, fun rom-com drama shenanigans). also. this is a kid fic. kid fics are my weak spot. rasmus is my new favourite little guy. also shoutout to luis best side character ever

spreadsheet notes: YELLING i love this fic sooo much it is everything

Where The Wind Will Carry Me by @1-life-to-give | young royals, wilmon | teen&up | 49k words

AND THEY WERE ACTORS PLAYING LOVE INTERESTS. do i have to say more? the tension guys the TENSION. also erik's side-plot i'm in love

spreadsheet notes: hopping up and down like a hyperactive chihuahua EN I LOVE THIS

Your love is my turning page (the t4t wilmon as girldads au) (series) by @willesworld | young royals, wilmon | teen&up | 17k words

i know i know another kid fic BUT!!!! t4t wilmon. makes it automatically superior. i'm not even kidding, add trans characters and i will like your fic (that i probably already like a lot) aroun 300000000 times more. but also this series comes for your feelings. it hits

spreadsheet notes: i am weak for t4t wilmon AND them having a biological child there's something so beautiful about it like that could be meeee ; siiimon i need to hug him and i need to hug wille they're gonna get out of this i prommy ; recovery and one step forwards a hundred steps back, but they made it there in the end ; they were so happy :((((

JUNE

A trace of dew by nuncflore | elden ring, this is too complicated | gen | 13k words

very elden ring-esque writing style, wonderful representation of whatever the hell is going on in the lore. hehehehehhe fucked up family ehhehehehe DIVORCE. my friends are so talented :))

spreadsheet notes: CAP I AM EATING YOU

Hanging from the Ceiling by @spicymiilk | spiderverse | teen&up | 6k words

for like. a week after i saw the new spiderverse movie i made miles 42 my entire life. that also meant reading this fic. and damn did this fic hit. i am still thinking about it

spreadsheet notes: i need more miles 42 content he is my favourite guy ever

The Darkest Little Paradise by @yourdemiurge | young royals, wilmon | explicit | 79k words

*holding you at gunpoint* read this fic. read it now, in this moment. you are not gonna regret it. believe me when i say you NEED this fic, you really do. doesn't even matter if you've seen yr or not. you're gonna thank me later

spreadsheet notes: THIS IS INSANE I CAN'T BREATHE MADY WHAT THE FUUUUUCK

JULY

Protected (series) by bastuba | young royals, wilmon | explicit | 69k words

hey do you ever read a fic and you just feel. so incredibly grounded because something about the characters feels grounded? like, they aren't grounded, but they still give off that vibe? idk how to explain this properly but that's this fic. also wille and simon cook together (i haven't read all parts of the series yet btw)

spreadsheet notes: incredibly grounded very mature how is wille like this ; i'd be like wille, always complaining about the heat ; they're soooooo. idiots. getting tattoos for each other ; i too would come out on a podcast about food ; SAFE SEX

AUGUST

The Season of Rebirth by @notalotgoingonatthisinstant | young royals, wilmon | mature | 30k words

part of a series, but i'm picking out this one specifically because it's soooo sweet!!! the title fits the fic so well, like yes it is the season of rebirth, but simon and wille's relationship is also rehashed in a very cool way, this fic is like one giant easter egg, i love it so much!

spreadsheet notes: wille taking the season of rebirth to recreate their early relationship, i am obsessed with him he's such a dumbass romantic

The Upgrade by @groenendaelfic | young royals, wilmon | explicit | 13k words

it's about the moment simon realises who wille is. that's why this fic is here. i mean of course also because it is very good, but mainly because of that moment

spreadsheet notes: the moment simon realised who wille is i am wheezing

Right Where You Left Me by @armandgender | spn, deancas | explicit | 94k words

if you're wondering why this fic is on my 2023 list instead of the 2022 list.... well that's because it took me almost a year to read the last chapter, and in terms of how my spreadsheet works, that makes it a fic i read in 2023. anyway. if you haven't read this fic yet, what are you even still doing here. click on that link right now. you want complex emotional situations? intricacies of ill-advised marriages? you wanna pick through abusive behaviour and encourage infidelity? well you're at the right place! also this has one of my favourite jack characterisations ever. it also made me go on multiple rants

spreadsheet notes: I FINALLY FINISHED IT AAAAHHHH I LOVE THIS FIC THE CABIN THE CATS JACK!!!!!

Alejito y Marimar (series) by th0ughts | red, white, and royal blue | teen&up | 18k words

OBSESSED WITH THIS DYNAMIC YOOOOOO. seriously the friendship between alex and martha is an expansion of the rwrb universe that is much needed, trust me

spreadsheet notes: the friendship i didn't know i needed in my life <333 ; they're just chillin!!!

SEPTEMBER

Change of Address (series) by hearmerory | avatar: the last airbender, zukka | mature | 134k words

okay. oooookay. strap in for this one, it is a lot. emotionally. like yes zuko is autistic, yes yes yeeees, i agree, also azula is treated like an actual person with actual mental issues, she deserves to be treated with care and this author definitely does that! this is the kind of series that makes me want to disappear in it, but it's also the kind of story i need breaks from, because it is so heavy (definitely check the tags for this one). zuko's relationship with sokka is written so thoughtfully and iroh is characterised incredibly and the author even included ursa in a way that didn't undermine everything that happened in the series before she appeared again. i can only recommend this one!

spreadsheet notes (there's lots of parts to the series, so this one is long): hhhh if i were ms jamieson i would have snapped after two days probably ; be nice katara!!!!! he's nervous ; i need to murder ozai ; and i need to murder zhao as well ; iroooohhhhh he should have just. taken the kids with him that first time he noticed something off ; yeah i think there was a reason why iroh never took zuko to the movies ; ozai needs to suffer ; i need to destroy ozai. violently and painfully ; iroh is the best uncle ever, zuko deserves all his kindness ; azula...... you don't have to fight for affection, it's not a competition..... they love you ; iroh should have taken her with him the first time around, she was like. 10, he could have just picked her up or sth ; ..... hakoda you idiot ; IROH BACKSTORY IROH BACKSTORY ; sokka and the plan that changed his life <3333 ; they are so soft with each other ; they all deserve all the therapy and support and yes sokka obviously you have adhd get with the program ; URSA??????? also i am living for sokka and azula's dynamic they are everything ; i don't. i don't understand her. i don't fucking understand her how could she not want her own children. how can she talk about them like that. like she knows them she doesn't know them she LEFT

Every night my teeth are falling out by @sulkybender | avatar: the last airbender, zukka | mature | 9k words

i was in need of some good zuko angst and oooohhh boy was i lucky to find this author. PEAK zuko angst. this fic in particular is very dear to me because it explores how mental illnesses would be handled in a world where there's practically no resources to help. i think we need that more

spreadsheet notes: yes well. how DO you deal with a schizophrenic fire lord in a fantasy world? (you stay with him and support him that is how)

OCTOBER

for years or for hours by @ghostinthelibrarywrites | the witcher, geralt/eskel/jaskier | explicit | 52k words

listennn i love myself some good polyamory fics, and this is the first fic i read for this ship and now i am OBSESSED with them. but this fic in particular.... the concept alone, like. what do you do when you thought the man you love was dead for 800 years, and then when he comes back you have another man you love. the answer is simple. polyamory. the two men you love also love each other. perfect coincidence.

spreadsheet notes: YO the concepts of witchers in modern times alone is sooo cool but adding in everything else? hello yes?

this is a love story by @achillestiel | supernatural, deancas | mature | 3k words

listen, i've never seen fleabag, but that's not the point. this is intriguing and funny, that's the point

spreadsheet notes: fucked up families and you want to fuck the priest hell yeah

The road not taken looks real good now by @stretchoutfics | young royals, wilmon | explicit | 90k words

it's not even the wilmon part i love about this fic (i very much enjoy it of course don't get me wrong) but wille and his kids. like, i don't want to spoil anything but like. wille's interactions with his kids are so important in this fic, and they're written so well. like, emilia is my favourite character in this, i kinda wish there was more with the kids honestly. this fic is definitely a highlight of the year, and to get back to wilmon, i do love how they're portrayed in this fic, how their dynamic plays out, and specifically how certain decisions do not depend on simon

spreadsheet notes: no but. the care put into this story. i can't--

NOVEMBER

Averno (series) by @sulkybender | avatar: the last airbender, zukka | mature | 12k words

a fascinating take on a fire lord zuko that was never part of the gaang

spreadsheet notes: HE JUST DESERVES KINDNESS but also he's a little fucked up WELL NO WONDER GIVE HIM KINDNESS ; i mean.... what makes a monster really ; well then let's get him out of his cell shall we (also hiiiii suki hello <3333)

Half Awake in Our Fake Empire by @hmslusitania | 9-1-1, buddie | teen&up | 34k words

another kid fic!!! but in a different fandom this time!!! seriously, giving buck a child fills so many of my life's needs it's ridiculous

spreadsheet notes: THEY'RE A FAMILY (thank you for giving that man a child)

a soldier (who carries a mighty sword) by @ghostinthelibrarywrites | the witcher, geralt/eskel/jaskier | explicit | 92k words

everything about this fic is wonderful!! the world(kaer morhen!!)building, the developing dynamic between geralt, jask, and eskel, ciri and yenn, the conflict, jask as a teacher!!!! aaahhhhh!

spreadsheet notes: they're my new favourite guyssss this whole fic is so cool, what they've done with kaer morhen <3333

Will We Last the Night by CSHfic & VSfic | avatar: the last airbender, zukka | teen&up | 143k words

this fic asks what if sokka had been stuck with zuko since the end of s1 and delivers a delightful answer. this is the adventures of zuko and sokka (and sometimes iroh) travelling through the earth kingdom. shenanigans ensue

spreadsheet notes: i am obsessed with this i'm just. i know it was only shortly but their life in ba sing se. obsessed

DECEMBER

Grudge Match by @catcas22 | elden ring | gen | 17k words

i'm not entirely sure how to explain this. it sure is an elden ring fic

spreadsheet notes: i don't even know what to say. this is ridiculous and brilliant and stupid and genius all at the same time. hell yeah suburban demigods

Lonely Digging by @toast-ranger-to-a-stranger | stranger things, harringrove | teen&up | 3k words

this is hilarious. go read it to unlock intense life-threatening flirting

spreadsheet notes: best way to flirt billy's doing everything right

***

(quick note: i’ve tried to find everyone’s tumblr handle, but i’m aware that not all the authors have tumblr/have it on their ao3, however if i somehow missed someone, i can go back and rectify that!)

if you’ve made it all the way down here i am giving you a kiss <3

[senblades]

Who are your fav persona 3 people!!!

[cracks knuckles] I'm glad you asked

So! I don't actively /dislike/ anyone in the p3 cast, but some of them definitely speak to me more than others:

First things first: Ryoji. Love that guy. He's so silly. And so tragic. And he makes me sad. (Like holy SHIT I wasn't expecting a reprise of his song in the stage play on December 31st but it TOOK ME OUT) (also Ryomina my love)

The whole Shinji, Ken, and Akihiko trio ALSO lives in my head rent free... two idiots and their son. love them. I've been desperately scouring for Akishinji content and between that, Ryomina, and Shuake, I've come to realise that my shipping habits seem to boil down to "doomed yaoi" HAHA

More on Ken, I have a LOT of thoughts about how he and Akechi would interact and (likely) get along. Whether that be in the p5 era or a situation a la Throw Away Your Mask. (Or, something I've yet to find: Akechi with no time travel shenanigins getting in on the p3 plot. You can bet THAT'S a longfic idea I've got rattling around) (Also the half-brothers headcanon is super fun. Especially when combined with Futago siblings. Congratulations, Shido! All your kids are persona users, and they all hate you! :D)

Aigis! She's just. Infinitely charming. She'll say something that will absolutely take me out and then turn around and say something devestating HAHA. I also think that her and Ryoji's social link and linked episodes respectively do a LOT of thematic work in the story. Death himself and the girl that can't die, both trying to figure out how to live (y'all that shit's METAL)

Strega are so interesting to me... I don't think they're perfect villains- I think their motivation is underexplored and a bit choppy, but ASIDE from that, I really like all three of them as characters. Idk why Jin is so funny to me LMAO he's so in love with Takaya and Takaya's just like "k. met your quota yet?" (But, also, some of Takaya's lines definitely imply that he cares about Jin too, but doesn't let himself acknowledge that at all due to his whole "attachments are weakness" shtick, another thematic point to contest his ideology, as he is actively denying himself happiness in pursuit of some idea of salvation)

Chidori- I like her well enough. Some of her lines really did make me smile, but I think she's another case of "underdeveloped" (I actually read Throw Away Your Mask before I played p3r, so that fic did a lot of the heavy lifting for my like of Chidori (and, by extension, Jundori) i think)

Which leads nicely into: Junpei! He's da man. Nuff' said. HAHA if you can't tell, I love Junpei. Awkward dudebro stuff aside (though it's occasionally part of his charm), I really love his development and personality in general. I really love how all the "bro" characters across the modern three persona games, while fulfilling the same archetype, are all distinct in personality and motivation and I love them ALL

Mitsuru is quite interesting to me, but I think she might be a case of "I wish her social link was about something else". Personal preference of course, but I kind of wish that it focused more on this intense guilt she seems to have for things that a) weren't her fault, and b) happened when she was 7 or younger. THAT is a super interesting mindset to explore, imo, though I did find her social ineptitude charming haha

Yukari... I think that she might grow on me more later. I can feel it in my bones. I suppose I'll find out with The Answer dlc! I know broadly what happens in it, but I haven't actually seem a playthrough of it, nor do I really know what happens to all the characters. I think my opinion of Yukari might have been tainted slightly by everyone having such strong opinions HAHA- I definitely like her, but I don't think she's clicked just yet. (I did really like her social link, though!) (also Yukamitsu I love Yukamitsu. The lesbians aren't doomed! Good for them)

Okay this is going to upset some people probably but Koromaru isn't really much of a character and I keep forgetting about him LMAO. uh. he's a good boy?

Fuuka... I really think that she's just underdeveloped. Her social link didn't really do her any favours in my eyes (I'm SO glad that atlus cut the "girl learns to cook" social link in p5 HAHA i really didn't like it with Yukiko either) Her social link obviously isn't just the cooking shenanigins, but it overshadows the bits of character growth that happen intermittently. I think that her SL really would have benefitted from being more about her love of electronics, if anything, since that isn't explored AT ALL and is more a plot device than a character trait. (Plus, the root of all her self-esteem issues go unadressed, which I think would have been a good character beat otherwise) (In saying this I think Fuuka/Natsuki is very cute. The lesbians stay winning in p3)

Makoto/Minato! Honestly, I was pretty neutral towards him from the majority of the fics I had read before playing p3r. I really like his characterisation in Throw Away Your Mask and The Twilight Wants Him Back, but those had been outliers in my mind. I started liking him more and more after playing p3r, and NOW, after having watched 1/4 of the p3 movies- oh boy. boy oh boy. I really like him now HAHA. Having his apathy actually effect his realtionships with SEES early on is super interesting and I love when it's done. (plus, I think Yukari hating him at first really strengthens their friendship later on)

Uh this post is already super long so for all the other plot-relavant characters and confidants I'm just gonna say "it's a secret" and melt into a bush or something

(tysm for the ask! You can tell I was waiting for an excuse to talk about this HAHA)

(btw y'all shoud read the fics I mentioned in this- they're excellent)

[bunny-lou]

Hey! I’ve been reading all your Black Phone contents and they are so awesome!

If you’re currently taking requests, may I ask if you have any HC’s for first dates or just date ideas between Finney/Robin or Vance/Bruce?

Hey, thank you so much for enjoying my stuff!!!

Finbin/Robinney/Rinney

Robin is the one to ask Finney out and while Robin wants to go see a scary movie at the drive ins, he is nervous and plans the whole date around what Finn would want to do

Of course they go to the planetarium, which is in the next town over, so Robin begs his uncle to let them borrow the truck

Of course his uncle lets him, he's gotta be a good wingman for his nephew

Robin wears his nicest bandana and graphic tee while he picks up Finney, who's wearing a polo shirt with a collar and Gwen tried to do his hair

They stop for gas and snacks, having a whole meal out of bags of chips and candy bars, but also the sandwiches Finney was smart enough to pack for them

They lay back in the planetarium and watch the show, Finney adding extra information about the planets and stars because he knows way more than the employees

Robin reaches for his hand in the dark and Finney squeezes his fingers with every new constellation lit up

Finney is upset by the limited information that's given during the planetarium exhibits. As they leave and drive back, it's beginning to get dark, so he makes Robin pull over into a field.

They lay on the hood of the car, Finn's jacket bunched up behind their heads, as Finn points up at the sky.

"So everyone thinks the Big Dipper is a constellation, but it's actually an asterism, but it's apart of the Ursa Major constellation, which is the third largest constellation and pictured on the Alaskan flag. Claudius Ptolemy was the first astronomer to write about it in..."

Robin loves Finn's voice, but would probably fall asleep if his heart wasn't racing from the two of them laying so close.

Finn is shy and nervous, so when Robin asks to kiss him under the stars, he stutters that he wants to wait until their second date

(Robin has already planned their second date at the drive ins, Friday the 13th Part III, fun enough for them both to enjoy, but scary enough for Finn to huddle into his side the whole time.)

Brance

They didn't really have a first date, but their routines have always been going out after Bruce's baseball games.

But like, after Bruce has his post-game meeting with his teammates, which Vance used to hang out for, but they're soooo boring and he can't.

Instead, Vance cheers in the field with Amy, hollering each time Bruce so much as takes a step.

But, he doesn't like to rush to Bruce after each game. There are too many people crowding the teams to congratulate them at the end.

So Vance sneaks away, like he always does, and heads to the arcade to wait for Bruce to talk to his teammates, which is also a nice break for Vance. It makes him uncomfortable to be in such an open spot with so much noise, sitting still for so long, all these strangers around him. Getting to play pinball in between is like his recharge period.

Bruce comes to find him a short while later, already changed out of his uniform, but still energized from his game.

Vance likes routines, so it's the same thing each week. They go for milkshakes across the street (strawberry for Bruce, peanut butter and chocolate for Vance)

The young waitresses there used to bat their eyes at Bruce, smile at him for too long, up until Vance got fed up and pulled him across the table to kiss him, spilling their milkshakes onto the floor.

No one flirts with Bruce in there anymore.

After, they browse the comic shop down the road. Bruce flips through their baseball cards while Vance picks up a new comic (and sometimes pays for it if he feels like it).

On nights where Mr. and Mrs. Yamada are gone, Vance stays for dinner. Amy is a great cook for the three of them. Bruce's parents... tolerate Vance, but he doesn't like all the people around. He's happy with Bruce and okay with Amy, but too much more stresses him out.

The three of them end the day by doing their homework together, though Bruce has to push for Amy and Vance to do it. After Amy has had Bruce proof read her English paper, she slips off to her room, giving them privacy.

Vance begrudgingly finishes his homework because they get to relax on the couch after, his head in Bruce's lap as the television drones on in the background.

[powerfulscribbles]

In Need of Aid - A G/t Elden Ring fic (3)

Prologue | Chp. 1 | Chp. 2 | Chp. 3 | Chp. 4

Chapter 3: Floral Scent

->Read the chapter on ao3 (registered users)<-

Chapter summary: Varré relives a very sweet moment, before learning the news and dealing with the aftermath of the invasion.

Warnings: swearing, fearplay, some slight creepiness.

This story contains g/t stuff, so if that's not your thing it's in your best interest to click away! Thank thee kindly~

Words: 6k~

~ ° ~ ° ~ ° ~ ° ~ ° ~ ° ~ ° ~ ° ~ ° ~ ° ~ ° ~ ° ~ ° ~ ° ~ ° ~

~Limgrave, First Step site of grace. 1 day and 16 hours before the meeting.~

“A gift? For me?”

“Yes! All yours! Please accept it!” the Tarnished woman cheered, offering him a small bouquet.

It was finely garnished with various types of flowers. Golden lilies, Erdleaf flowers and some slightly wilted sunflowers, held together by a bunch of evergreen leaves at the base.

Those flowers…

“I thought you might appreciate these!”

“But���”

“Mh? What’s wrong? You don’t like them?”

“Oh I do actually, I’m… very flattered, thank you. But… why would you hand me such a present? I… I haven’t done anything remarkable or noteworthy” the surgeon said.

“Heh, nonsense. You had the patience of explaining how the guidance of grace works, and then you gave me directions, pointing me right to Stormveil’s Castle, to Godrick. Actually, you even mentioned his new trick up his sleeve! So when I went to fight him I was more prepared, and now he’s no more!” Valyssa said, smiling brightly.

“You did it? Oh, my sincerest congratulations! I always knew you would succeed.”

“Heh, thank you, you’re too kind” she said, looking down bashfully.

“I only speak the truth. Although decrepit as he was, taking down old Godrick must not have been an easy feat.”

“Yeah it wasn’t. Dodging his big axe attacks was quite the challenge, and the dragon head was a whole problem on its own. But as you can see, this is his Great Rune!” she continued, retrieving from her bag a big, greyish rune made out of a golden circle, with three ellipses that met each other in the middle.

“I still need to restore its power at the Divine Tower, but here it is! In all its glory! And it’s all thanks to you!”

“Me? Oh no no, I appreciate the sentiment, but you did all the work. I merely provided the basic information so you would triumph in your deed.”

“Still, isn’t it something I should be grateful for?”

“What do you mean by that?” Varré asked, inquiring.

“What I’m saying is, I don’t think I should take everything for granted. I’ve arrived here in the Lands Between just a few weeks ago, and even though I don’t remember much from my past, it’s obvious that here things aren’t too different. Although there are some kind people who are willing to help, there are also selfish, greedy folks who don’t want anything to do with you or just don’t care.”

She sighed, her jade green eyes looking down.

“That’s why I think we should appreciate and cherish each positive moment, since we don’t see them very often.”

A pause. So they could both reflect.

“…Yes. I suppose we should” Varré admitted, clutching to the gifted bouquet he’d just received.

“Very beautiful flowers. You have good taste.”

And it’s peculiars that, of all flowers, you have instinctively picked these lilies in particular.

“Now you’re the one doing the flattering, haha” she laughed. “I hope they’re not poisonous by the way. I thought they looked pretty and decided to craft a small bouquet out of them.”

The surgeon chuckled.

“Oh absolutely not! They’re safe to be plucked, even though they happen to be very uncommon to find. How did you come across them? I haven’t seen any in such a long while.”

“Uh… I think I found them in the inner side of a church, here in Limgrave? Like, it’s that one church in Mistwood, near Caelid.”

“Ah yes, that would be the Third Church of Marika, to the east. And it’s there you gathered the lilies?”

“Yep, they were right underneath Queen Marika’s statue, if I recall correctly.”

Hm, I can see that.

“Anyway, if they’re so rare that’s one more reason to keep them, right?” she chirped, smiling from ear to ear.

Thump-thump.

So sweet.

“You are right, in fact I’ll hold onto the bouquet. I can’t say no to such a wonderful gift, crafted with so much care, nor I can thank you enough for it”

“Oh it’s nothing!” she said softly.

“Changing the subject, there is something I wanted to ask. Have you had the chance to have an audience the Two Fingers, in the inner chamber of the Roundtable Hold?”

“Not yet unfortunately, but I’ll be seeing them shortly.”

“Good idea. Having acquired a Great Rune, you’re now a true member of the Roundtable Hold. Thus, the doors to the inner chamber must have opened, so they can receive you at any time.”

“Oh I see. Mmmmm, maybe I shouldn’t leave them waiting, then” she decided.

“A wise choice. And after your audience, come and pay me a visit again. I might not be here by the time you arrive, so I’ll leave a message for you in that case. Would that be alright with you?”

“Yeah, sounds good. I feel like we’re going to discuss about a lot of things, the next time we’re seeing each other.”

Oh, you have no idea.  

“Well then, see you soon! Bye!” she waved at him happily.

“Be well. Until next time.”

She smiled wider and approached the nearby site of grace, focusing her hand on the it before disappearing in rays of golden light.

The surgeon watched her leave, before bringing the flowers to his chest.

Nobody had ever given him a bouquet. Even better, these golden lilies, belonging to the Luminary’s consort, were no mere coincidence.

A promising sign. Divine, even.

He moved the flowers closer to his face, so he could smell their delicate scent.

… I look forward to see you again.  

~Liurnia of the Lakes, Rose Church. 3 hours past the meeting time.~

She’s not coming…?

Was he wrong? Did he… misinterpret her actions?

Her words?

The white mask could easily remember just how joyful she was the last time he had seen her… Had something changed?

His heart ached in sorrow and worry.

Hopefully not…

“Varré?” a feminine voice called out to him, dragging him out of his internal doubts.

A woman wearing a drake knight armor had approached him. Her cape crafted with a dragon wing membrane fluttered gently in the cool breeze of the damp region.

“Violet Finger Eleonora? What brings you here? Is something the matter?” the white mask asked, surprised.

“Yes, actually. Something requiring your attention. Word is spreading in the dynasty, that a Bloody Finger invaded a Tarnished without requesting it to a superior beforehand, only a few hours past.”

The surgeon sighed softly, attempting to keep his serious demeanor.

“…That isn’t too surprising unfortunately, it’s already happened before. I’ll make sure to deal with them after journeying back to the dynasty. I’m waiting for an important disciple at this very moment.”

“Is this disciple, by any chance, a woman that rides around on a spectral steed? Wearing a vagabond knight’s armor, usually armed with a greatsword?”

“Precisely. Have you met her before?”

“I haven’t, actually. But she perfectly fits the description provided by that Bloody Finger.”

Eleonora couldn’t notice it, but Varré’s heart skipped a beat.

“What you’re saying is… She’s the Tarnished that fell target of such invasion.”

She nodded somberly. “Correct.”

The surgeon’s mouth felt dry, all of a sudden. If the mask could keep his expression a secret, the pale golden eyes betrayed his deep concern and pain.

“…Who was it? Do you know who committed the violation?”

“I do. Nerijus slipped up when he came directly to me, to inform me the Hunter Yura still lurks around. He was defeated by him, from what it looks like.”

That fool Nerijus… What… What did he think he was doing?

Varré did his best to keep his composure.

“Even though Yura must be getting on years now, he’s still the capable swordsman he’s always been. And here I thought he had retired.”

“We all did. But if Nerijus is telling the truth, we have quite the situation on our hands. First your Tarnished, then him, as a Bloody Finger Hunter” Eleonora explained.

“I’ll see to both of these matters.”

“… And if he proves himself to be a more serious threat than expected, do not hesitate to request assistance. I know how hard it’s going to be, for you” the surgeon reassured her.

“Worry not.” She placed her hand on her poleblade. “I will not falter.”

“As you wish. I trust in your skills. You will do a fine job, if he ever comes looking for you.”

The woman nodded, almost coldly.

“We shall head back to the dynasty now, and solve this madness” Varré said, before bowing reverently to her.

“I thank you deeply for the report, Eleonora. You’re a Violet Finger worthy of its name” the man praised her.

“Just doing my job. When someone else clearly misbehaved.”

~°~

“You have quite the explanations to do. And I hope you had good reasons to go behind the interests of the dynasty, which I believe you do not.”

The Bloody Finger Nerijus sat before the Varré in the latter’s study. He had removed his black, embroidered hood and now the big red trident was very visible on his annoyed face. The surgeon merely welcomed him at his desk with a stern look, while two Sanguine Nobles stayed by the door behind the guilty man. A third instead remained by Varré’s side.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, you don’t? Is going behind your superiors’ back that much of a habit, to you?”

“And not only that, of all Tarnished, you simply had to go after her? The number one pawn that could even pose a threat to the whole dynasty, if not our mighty Luminary?”

“I… I wanted a real challenge. I didn’t think I would beat her so easily!”

“But why risking the odds at all, when there are other strong Tarnished that have nothing to do with the dynasty?”

“None but her has taken on a demigod, and succeeded” Nerijus specified.

“Yes, but that’s precisely why we need her allegiance in the first place! To assure her a place under the Luminary’s guidance and love. Attacking her was nothing but pointless and counterproductive on your part.”

The Bloody Finger grumbled, refusing to meet the other man’s gaze.

“Well then, fine, I got carried away. I should’ve consulted with someone of a higher rank beforehand. I’m in the wrong. Are you happy now?”

Varré’s lips tightened in a thin line behind his mask. “Watch your tongue, Nerijus. And behave. I now need more information about the invasion.”

The surgeon opened a drawer from his desk, taking out a small vial of ink and a quill, along with a register. It contained various files about different Bloody Fingers. When he found his, he cleared his throat.

“Tell me where you fought her, how it went, and the weapons and tools you have utilized.”

Another snort from the grey-skinned man.

“Fine. I invaded her by the Murkwater river. She had just come out of a cave when I spotted her. I almost killed her before the Hunter Yura appeared and pierced my chest from behind with his Nagakiba, vanquishing me. And I had brought two Reduvia daggers as usual, then a bunch of Swarm pots and two Freezing pots.”

The white mask gave him a quick glare, before dipping his quill in the ink and writing down the details on the refined paper.

“Well then, is that all?” he asked, raising his pale golden eyes from the book to look directly at his subordinate, who seemed reluctant to return the gaze.

“That was everything, right?”

The two Sanguine Nobles who guarded the door now approached Nerijus from behind, until they were too close for comfort.

The Bloody Finger shook his head.

“N-no. I forced her to drink a potion that I had brought along. It made her shrink, until she was only a few inches tall. I had received it from Esgar some days ago, and I wished to try it out.”

“… I beg your pardon?”

“I know Esgar has been experimenting on a new blood-driven tool for the past months. He promised he would let me test it, once it was ready.”

“It is true, he has been busier than usual of late. So he succeeded? That potion was the brand new tool for the dynasty?”

Nerijus nodded. “It was.”

“…So she turned no bigger than a smoldering butterfly?” the surgeon asked.

 “Yeah. She probably still is, Esgar guaranteed that the potion wouldn’t wear off any time soon after .”

“… I see. Did he also let you in on an antidote? Or some other way to counter its effect, or reverse it.”

“No, as far as I know. The potion was created as an extra tool to debilitate a target before the elimination. And as such, whoever drinks it is usually not expected to survive the invasion.”

“… Something isn’t right, however” Varré pointed out.

“Esgar has left the Mausoleum for the capital of Leyndell around two weeks ago, in search of the Luminary’s shackle… How did you obtain his final approval to not only bring that potion with you, but to use it as well?”

No response came from the grey-skinned Bloody Finger, who lowered his gaze.

“You didn’t wait for his return, did you?”

“And how could you, after all? You must have been so eager to try it out…” the surgeon continued.

Nerijus simply frowned as he locked his eyes full of hatred with his superior.

“But if, as you have said, you wished to only challenge her strength…”

“Why then in the name of the Formless Mother did you go as far as administering a potion that reduced her size by force?”

Nerijus sighed again.

“I saw that as a golden opportunity to weaken her! Who else should we use our most powerful tools, if not on our strongest enemies?”

“But that’s exactly the point, she was not an enemy to the dynasty! To me…”

“… it just sounds like you also took the opportunity to finish the job in a more grotesque and humiliating way for her. You treated her like prey!”

Varré sighed in exasperation.

“You just acted like a thoughtless, reckless, disrespectful ruffian, and that is not the type of behavior the dynasty should represent, nor be associated with.”

“Oh, you think all the other Bloody Fingers shy away from a good bloodshed? You can see it in our eyes, you’ve anointed us yourself! Even the others are all sooo eager to just get their hands on a poor bystander and slit their throat right and there!” Nerijus retorted.

“Enough!” the surgeon yelled.

“You will not speak ill of me, or your fellow Bloody Finger siblings any further. The fact that you even have the nerve to argue back and compare their noble behavior to yours is beyond outrageous.”

“This being said, theft among fellow dynasty members is not to be overlooked. And let me get this straight.”

“Not only you didn’t inform a superior of your invasion beforehand, and gravely endangered an essential pawn for the dynasty, but you also made use of unauthorized enchanted equipment, taken without the proper owner’s permission, and  lied shamelessly about it.”

Varré slowly raised from his chair, splaying out his arms on the desk so he could lean forward as he faced his underling.

“All this information is more than enough to allow me to relocate you to the dungeon for an adequate amount of time. So you can reconsider your actions.”

His subordinate raised from his chair in clear anger.

“What? Why? Because I decided to go after your precious sweetheart, is that it? I disrupted your well thought-out plans of turning her into a bloodthirsty sucker like all the others before her?”

The yelling turned to silence. Not even a pin drop could be heard as the two men stared at each other in the eye. Varré just looked at his subordinate, unfazed, while the main hand of all three Sanguine Nobles crept to the sheath of their helice, in preparation for the incoming bloodshed.

But the Bloody Finger soon backed off, sitting back down on his chair with a grunt. The horned creatures returned to their neutral position, but never lowered their guard.

“You know, Nerijus. I’ve always seen endless potential in you. Even long before your anointment, you never disappointed with your impressive amount of slaughter. But I’ve been doubting your careless behaviour for far too long now.”

“I see some fixing is in order. And I will gladly take care of that myself. I’m certain you won’t mind, will you? Sanguine Nobles, take him away. To the dungeon you go.”

The Bloody Finger’s red eyes widened in fear as he bolted from his chair.

“W-wait! If it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t have known about Yura!”

“Ah yes, that tiny itty bitty detail. It would alleviate your sentence by about a day or two, if only you didn’t draw his attention by picking a very inconvenient target. Get him out of my sight. I have seen enough of his face for today.”

Nerijus snarled and struggled as he was dragged outside the study, but the surgeon was already too focused on his next move to care. Every sound and noise around him was dampened as he was absorbed in thought.

Shrinking her? Why? What was even the point of that? He was going to ruin everything!

He felt himself hyperventilate all of a sudden, in terror of what could possibly happen in the future.

With how things are now, she is going to mistrust me if she is to find out about the dynasty from unreliable sources, such as Yura. What happened with Nerijus wasn’t supposed to be her first impression of it!

The white mask desperately clutched his head with his hands.

How is he going to get her closer to him and keep her at bay, if she knew about his position? And what about the trails? There’s no way she can take any of them in her current conditions.

Varré took come deep breaths. In and out, slowly.

It’s okay. It’s going to be alright.

Maybe he could salvage the situation nonetheless.

Every cloud has a silver lining.

And that’s when a familiar, cherished words resonated in his mind again.

“Go ahead and claim it. Take it. It is yours to have.”

Could…

Could have the Luminary known about this matter already, when he summoned me to see him?

…

A sly grin made its way under his mask.

Yes… It all makes sense now.

… I know what I must do.

…

Yura must have brought her to a safe place close to where the invasion happened, if she was so in peril of death. He can’t have gone too far.

But first, I shall have Esgar’s room searched, to locate any notes from this last research of his. He’s no fool, he must have invented a way to nullify the effects of his own potion.

And although he will not be pleased we have looked through his belongings, there is no easy out of it. I’m not going to send an envoy or a research party to the Leyndell undergrounds, just so we can find where he is and bother him to ask if he’s developed an antidote already. It would be a waste of time and resources for everybody.

“I have a request for you” the surgeon finally said, turning to the Sanguine Noble to his right.

“I want you to search the private rooms of Esgar, our Priest of Blood, and bring me the tome where he usually catalogues his blood experiments. Pick all the locks that block your way, if necessary. And please fetch me the Ravenmount assassin, at once. I have a job to assign him.”

~°~

Valyssa’s eyes slowly opened, one by one. Her vision was very blurry, causing her to blink a few times to adjust to the light brought by the massive bonfire in the cave.

I’m… I’m still alive?

“Mmmmrrr…” she complained, shielding her eyes with a hand.

Her whole body hurt, like she had fought Godrick a second time. With some groans, she tried to move to a sitting position, but pain flared up in her wounds again, causing her to hiss.

Her noises didn’t get unnoticed.

“Ah friend, you’re awake at last! Easy easy, you’re still not in top notch condition!” A booming voice coming from above her made her gasp, and she turned around to face the merchant.

“Woah Patches, when did your voice get so lou-“

She couldn’t speak anymore as she looked up. Her eyes were all wide in fear, which took control of her so suddenly as she crawled on her back to create some distance from her now giant pal. Her heart was beating so fast, it was almost making its way out of her chest.

“What??? How??? I-i… I…”

“Hey hey, careful dude! Everything is fine!  You’re going to be alright!” the man said with a lower tone, backing away to give her some space.

She seemed to calm down a little, but her hand still had moved on instinct to the back of her neck, where the hilt of her greatsword usually remained. Only to grasp at nothing.

“Uh? Where’s my sword?” she asked, looking around hoping to spot her weapon somewhere nearby.

“You… must have dropped it in the river, while you were fighting… some guy?”

“Uh? Oh…” she suddenly recalled.

“So that’s how it happened, I… wasn’t hallucinating then… he did look bigger, but… I thought that was due to frostbite or something.”

“Nope, you really are as tall as an apple as you were then, my friend.”

Valyssa sighed.

“… Do you think you could go and get me my sword, please?” she pleaded.

“Oh trust me friend, I would, but it’s dark outside now, and even with a torch you wouldn’t see a thing in the river. And I wouldn’t dare leaving you alone even if it’s for a few minutes. Plus… it might be oversized for you now.”

“You mean… it didn’t shrink with me?”

“I didn’t see it in the water, but again we didn’t stop by for long, Yura and I.”

 Yura? Who’s Yura?

“Is that the person who saved me?”

“Yep, that’s him” Patches confirmed.

“Ugh… Unfortunately I must have blacked out when he did, because the last thing I remember was biting into that cloaked jerk’s hand as hard as I could” Valyssa said, mumbling.

That bastard really did me dirty, with those pots.

“Girl, you really did fight till the very end! Despite being shrunken and all!”

“Oh? I mean… yeah. I really didn’t want to go like that, you know? Plus that asshole forced me to drink his fucking potion and almost made me drown.”

“What a scum…” Patches snarled.

She checked her pockets, and was happy to see her crimson tear flask was still there.

“Hey, at least I still have this! It did shrink with me!”

She took a few sips, humming contentedly. “Ah! That’s better!” she said, looking down to her body. She grimaced at her own wounds and bruises.

These are quite nasty, though. They might take a few more time to heal. I still feel all of them.

But hey, at least I don’t wince whenever I breathe! That’s an improvement, she thought, smiling weakly.

“Hey uh, could I ask you something?” Patches spoke, out of the blue.

“Oh! Yes?” she replied, looking up at him.

“I know you’re still shaken up and terrified by the whole ‘I’m small now’ situation, but… I can actually barely hear ya from uh… ‘up here’, pal? Would it be alright if I lift you up a little bit?”

“Uh… I’m… I’m not sure” she stuttered, getting paler all of a sudden.

“Oh all good, all good. The last thing I’d want is making you uncomfortable.”

She nodded. “I… I mean… maybe we could find a compromise? Like… you could place me on the stool next to you, so you can hear me and I’m not constantly shivering in fear.”

“Well sure, alright. That’s actually a smart solution.”

Nodding again, she carefully got up and looked up at her big friend expectantly.

Patches very slowly approached her with his gloved hand. One inch at a time.

When his digits were close, she instinctively flinched and squeezed her eyes shut. A thumb and two more fingers carefully pinched her by her belly and back, sandwiching her in between.

Oh god…, she thought nervously.

And with a gentle tip, the hand was now lifting her up in the air, from the Warming Stones she had been resting on. With no rush.

Ohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygod

Her heartbeat and breathing accelerated, but she tried to focus on remaining calm.

She inhaled and exhaled deeply, thinking of something positive.

Flowers. Tons of flowers. A whole field of blooming flowers.

Patches in the meantime had picked up on her anxiety, and stopped raising her from the ground.

“Should I… put you back down? You don’t look well.”

She shook her head. “No, I want to do this. Let’s continue.”

The merchant nodded with a concerned expression. “Alright.”

And he continued to lift her up. After a while, Valyssa decided to open her eyes, hesitantly at first. She could now see that the stool was in reach now, and so the man was carefully placing her onto it.

When her boots touched the wooden “ground”, she immediately sat down, breathing deeply some more.

“Oof… We… we did it.”

“Yes! Congrats for not freaking out too much there! You did pretty well!”

“Oh… Thank… thank you Patches” she said, as she was calming down more and more.

The bald Tarnished smiled weakly, before looking down somberly.

“This just made me realize… I must be some sort of behemoth to you now.”

“Mmmmm… uhm… yes, kinda, to be honest. To me you’re much bigger and taller than any of those Trolls that wander around Limgrave.”

“But definitely more friendly and not as scary, right?” he joked.

“Well… You could’ve crushed me between your fingers just now, but you didn’t.”

“True, you’re still all in one piece! See?”

“Yeah… I… I guess it wasn’t that bad after all” she smiled, blushing lightly.

Nobody spoke for a few moments.

“But.” she continued, raising a finger in a fake condescending way.

“You did give me a scare the first time we met, when you jumped down that cliff behind me” she giggled.

“I took you for a demi-human! And you were in the middle of stealing my clothes pal, don’t you deny it” he smirked.

Her cheeks turned red in embarrassment. “The chest was right there, with no one around. Someone would think some good loot was inside!”

“Aaaaand instead you only found my shirt and pants” he said with a grin.

“Hey, at least I gave them back to you. And c’mon, even you would’ve opened an alluring chest like that!”

“Me? Being greedy? Nope! That wouldn’t be me!”

She groaned, before a soft smile made its way onto her lips.

A sudden rustling sound made the merchant turn around incredibly fast towards the entrance.

He leaned towards her to whisper as quietly as he could.

“Someone’s outside this cave right now. If they’re a customer, I’ll be sending them on their way. If not, I’ll deal with them in the best way I can. Either way, get ready to hide somewhere, okay?”

Valyssa was hesitant at first, but then nodded less worryingly.

Patches took a deep breath and gently placed her back on the ground, before he picked up his usual spear and greatshield and headed to the entrance of his shop. The green-eyed woman in the meantime sprinted away as fast as she could, looking around for a good spot to conceal herself under.

“Hello, the shop is closed until further notice! I suggest going to the merchant Kalé instead, at the Church of Elleh! Now leave quietly, or you’ll have to face me and my men!” the untethered Tarnished exclaimed.

No response.

“Well, that’s it then!” he yelled, before an arrow pierced his shoulder through his leather armor, making him wince.

As he moved away from the entrance to lean against the stone, another arrow passed by him, getting stuck in the soil. It looked like it was made out of a thin animal bone, a light purple substance slowly dripping from the tip.

As soon as he could he whistled loudly with his fingers. “C’mon boys, get them!” he bellowed. But nobody came to assist him.

“… Guys?” he called out, before he started to feel weaker and… drowsy? He could barely keep his eyes open, but he did his best to keep going as he drew out one of the acid spraymists he always had on him.

He quickly drank it and immediately spew out an orange cloud in front of him. It wouldn’t do much, but at least it’d keep the attacker at bay for a while, and give Valyssa some more time to hide.

The merchant didn’t expect the mysterious foe to ignore the acid cloud altogether, however. They walked right in, wearing a banished knight set with a scarf that surrounded the helmet and fell on their shoulders.

They immediately approached Patches with a strange-looking branch. The emblem of an unalloyed gold tree appeared before he pierced him with it, releasing a dark pink mist around him.

The merchant coughed, but soon fell on his knees due to the enchantment and his own tiredness. The spear and shield were dropped to the side.

“Now you will answer to some of my questions” he spoke, with a deep, rich voice.

The untethered Tarnished nodded, as if he wasn’t in control of his actions. “Y-yes. Anything you say is my command.”

“Very well. Tell me, where is the Bloody Finger Hunter Yura? Why isn’t he here?”

“He… he left. He said he was going to look into whatever made Valyssa shrink. First he mentioned his shack, and then the Academy of Raya Lucaria as a second location if he couldn’t find anything about it.”

“Noted. Where is the girl? Did he bring her along?”

Patches shook his head.

“She’s somewhere in this cave. I told her to hide because I heard you coming. She was badly injured and Yura deemed the journey was too risky for her.”

“Good. Thank you for the useful information. Now you can shut your eyes and rest. The next time will wake up, you will have no memory of what has just transpired. Understood?”

The merchant nodded again, more absent-mindedly this time as his eyelids closed.

“I… I understand.” And he was soon out like a light, falling to the ground.

The banished knight moved away from him and had a good look around. The inner cave wasn’t too big, but there were definitely many hiding places for a tiny person. A couple of small unkempt bushes, some empty barrels piled up in different spots, a few sacks of flour, some bundles of twigs gathered around, a single open chest…

He checked behind the barrels first, lifting them carefully to avoid them falling and crushing her by accident. The bushes were searched next by moving the leaves away, but again, there was no sign of her. And no luck with the sacks of flour and the bundles of twigs either.

Then he realized, the chest was only touching the ground where its legs were. The rest of it remained above the dirt and gravel, creating a small gap of about an inch and a half. Ideal, for someone tiny to crawl under and hide.

So the banished knight knelt before the chest and took a peek underneath.

Laid down on her stomach, a miniature woman stared back at him with horror in her watery eyes, her hands tightly clasping around her mouth to stifle any whimper and sob that may come out.

“Ah, there you are.”

His grave voice made her wince, but she immediately started to crawl back frantically and as fast as she could, as a hand gloved in metal began to make its way towards her.

“S-stay a-away!”

The chest was suddenly ripped from above her though, exposing her again to the light of the bonfire.

Before she could get up and run, the same fingers grabbed her by her sides, lifting her up from the ground and enclosing her into a fist.

“N-no! L-let me go! P-please!” Valyssa cried out, wriggling as much as she could in the giant’s grasp.

“A-are you here to finish what you had started? So you can crush me into a pulp or drown me again, and feel better about yourself?” she spat out, wriggling like crazy.

The banished knight didn’t respond.

Is he… thinking? Hesitating?

“A-answer me!” she shouted, desperately.

Instead, he grabbed a handkerchief from a pouch and gently pressed it on her face. She struggled and whimpered as much as she could, even scraping her nails on the metal digits, but when the soporific grease got to her, she fell limp in his grasp like a lifeless doll.

Seemingly satisfied, the foe tossed the handkerchief into the makeshift bonfire, and that’s when he noticed the Warming Stones next to it.

With decision, he smashed them under his boots, making sure they all broke down in smithereens before walking out towards the exit.

He passed by Patches’ bandits as he did, all passed out thanks to the same sleeping bolts that made their boss fall asleep.

~°~

Outside, the fire that usually signaled the entrance of the cave had been extinguished, leaving only the burnt, glowing embers.

Not far from it, another man was waiting, leaning against the wall of rock beside the entrance to the cave. His dark outfit, consisting of a tight skeletal mask and a robe made out of black feathers of a bird of prey, allowed him to camouflage perfectly with his surroundings in the dim light of the night.

When his colleague made its way out of the cavern, he approached him in silence.

“The Tarnished is here with me, but alas, the Hunter Yura had left long before our arrival. He’s supposedly headed to his hideout first, and then to the Academy of Raya Lucaria. Track him down and dispose of him, will you?” the banished knight ordered.

The Ravenmount assassin bowed slightly with his head, before ducking and doing a leap into the air as he disappeared, leaving only some black feathers in his place.

That’s taken care of as well.

After a quick look around to avoid prying eyes, the banished knight slowly removed his helm.

His brown hair, held together by a messy ponytail, was the first to emerge from underneath the metal. A dark red trident was carved on his forehead, and some sweat drops were running down by his light stubble.

Oh my. I don’t think I’ve ever worn an armor this heavy. This was quite the ordeal.

But it was worth every single second.

His pale golden eyes fell on the asleep tiny woman in his hands. He held her close to his chest, wrapping her in the scarf adorning the helm, so she wouldn’t suffer the cold and remain warm.

From his pouch, he retrieved something that looked like a caramelized chestnut, and slipped it into his mouth.

When it dissolved, he finally was able to speak with his usual raspy, dry voice once more.

“Oh my love… Just look at what that disgraced fiend did to you. But worry not, you’re safe now.”

He leaned down and pecked the top of her head, grazing his lips against her hair as gently as possible. Despite scurrying around in some dust and dirt, she still smelled of chamomile and wildflowers.

“Where you waiting on Yura alone, with that lousy merchant? Mh?” he whispered.

“Well, no need to do that anymore. I wouldn’t be forced to take such drastic measures if it wasn’t necessary… You will understand, in due time” he said as he drew out his Pureblood Knight's medal, the red trident making its appearance and allowing him a safe travel back to the Dynasty Palace.

Back to Chapter 2 | To Chapter 4

[iloveyou-writers]

How do I get people to care about me personally as a writer and my work? I only got three likes on a piece of work while this another writer literally got 6 likes on a post with someone asking if they were okay and 7 likes on another post congratulating them on her fic count while literally my fic count post congratulating myself only received 1 like and my other only received 2. It just shows me that my followers don't care about my works at all because I'm not good enough and I think I suck at canon character portrayal. It makes me think that the person who was over critical about my work was right I suck as a writer and as a human being.

I have been trying to think of the best way to word my response to this and it's been a struggle, honestly. It's not that I don't have an answer, it's that the answer may be a bit discouraging because the unfortunate truth is that there isn't a simple answer for how to get people to love your writing.

It's a lot of hard work. It often takes a long time, especially with today's writeblr. Back when I first joined writeblr, there was a lot more interaction. It was much easier to get your work in front of people because people were actually reblogging works and sharing them with others. Now-a-days, most people will just like it and move on, essentially cutting out a VAST majority of the readership you otherwise might get.

So, today, people getting enthusiastic about your writing not only takes a whole lot more work but it also takes a whole lot of luck. Getting your writing in front of the right person and HOPING they'll get into it enough to get their readers to get enthusiastic about it.

On top of that, a lot of writers now have "reblog blogs" which also cuts down the amount of people that will views your works because if their followers don't care for what they reblog usually, they won't follow that blog even though they're following the writing blog, so that cuts out another chunk of people that might be into your writing.

Then you also have to worry about timezones and the right people being online. There may be people that follow you and love your writing but if you're not posting it or reblogging it when they're online, they might not see it. A lot of people don't do what used to be much more common (me included, tbh) and scroll all the way down their dashes til they catch up to where they last were. So they could be missing your writing even if they love it. People often follow an impossible amount of blogs to keep up with fully, so they often miss things, even if they'd love it.

Basically, it boils down to you have to work hard to get your works in front of the right people at the right time. It's hard work, it's a lot of work, but if you're lucky and a great writer, you might be able to get the views. But even if you get the views, that doesn't mean that you'll get the notes because these days, people feel discouraged to actually interact with works.

So it's just a whole lot of mess that is causing writers and artists (especially writers, though, since it's a lot more work to read than it is to view art and a lot of people don't have the energy to read long stories these days) to not get the interaction or views they would have in the past.

Ugh, I know this is probably a really discouraging reply, but to be honest, these days I even struggle to get many notes on my actual writing. This blog gets lots of interaction, but that's because I'm GIVING something to people. Not many people are willing to react to a post that isn't giving them something (such as the encouragement from this blog)... so it's been hard for me too. I don't get nearly the interaction on my main that I do on this blog, so I'm not sure that I could give any specific advice on how to better get the interaction you're craving.

Maybe if you'd asked me 2-3 years ago, but tumblrites (especially on the creative side of tumblr) have changed a lot since then, so it's more of a struggle for everyone to get views, yes, even the popular ones. We're all feeling the changes.

I hope you get the interaction you're craving, my friend. I'm hoping to start a blog soon that'll help with writers create more of a community and interaction with one another, but we'll see if it works.

Sorry for all the depressing responses. I hope that you still push forward and that you find a way to get those interactions you're craving.

Good luck and happy writing, my friend. 💖

[serendertothesquad]

Seren's Studies: Odd Squad UK -- "Should Odd Acquaintance Be Forgot" Episode Followup, Part 2

Ooooooh Ozzie origins. Oooooooooooh big bad origins. Ooooooooooo origins. Does it scare you?

Let's continue below the break!

(A post-editing note: I was informed that Leonie is, in fact, a girl, and not a boy like I thought. I'm keeping the LGBTQ+ theory because we've already gotten gay triangle villain and they could extend that to child villains too, but keep in mind that Leonie is a girl and not a boy. That's my bad.)

Setting aside the fact that they used the right flashback effect this time...Orli, please. Stop talking about math, just for a second. I'm begging.

Equilibrium! Starlight Glimmer! Equality!

...Sorry, I'm just tossing stuff out there.

Ohhhhhhhh...Barb E. Q.

Okay, that's actually kinda clever, NGL. But man, they are taking any schtick and applying it to people, huh?

I get that Oxandra is part of the Terrible Three, but...Onom was unique in that he went out onto the field a lot. Why are we extending that to her as well, as opposed to her staying in the Lab?

Kinda feeds into my complaint about departments not being a thing anymore.

To be honest, I expected all of them to hate even numbers, so restricting that to one of them is a nice touch.

LMAO WHAT THE FUCK????????? I JUST DID A WHOLE COUGH AT THEM HAVING OWLS??????????????????????

You guys think Agent Owl is there too? From "Follow the Leader"? In disguise?

OH OH F U C K GEE JESUS CHRIST ORWELL JUMPSCARE HNNNNNNNNGH.

Fucking threw my phone because whoof was I not expecting that.

No, no, no, that's the TripAdvisor bird. Or...uhhhh...shit, that one owl mascot for that one glasses company who I forget.

You can easily get them mixed up, Orwell. 'S okay.

"Well, they were smart, but they needed some guidance."

Congratulations, Ozzie! You just described every fucking child villain in this entire fucking franchise.

HoooOOOOOOOOOOLD UP. He made them a manual? He...didn't tell them to read the thick red book seen in past seasons, which definitely sure as hell wasn't written by him?

That's...very stupid. Give 'em the Agent's Handbook and go re-fictionalize that instead of breaking continuity like this, Ozzie.

See, this is actually playing into the psychology of children. You show a kid floating stuff and they'd probably laugh at it.

Look at all those Eggman's robots Lorem ipsum text!

He...oh my God, he printed the manual backwards?

CASE IN FUCKING POINT. Even putting aside the fact that this is incredibly flawed, there's an Odd Squad printing press that would have spotted the mistake like *snappy fingeys* that. Ozzie is not a part of the Odd Squad printing press.

This seal man thing is both hilarious and creepy at the same time.

And this is just stupid and contrived at the same time. Poor Ozzie's got such a lack of confidence that he has to make a cake to celebrate not 6 years of working together, but 6 days.

So if the almighty leader likes symmetrical numbers...man, he'd have a hell of a time with Villain X then, huh?

AND WHAT THE FUCK MAKES YOU THINK HE QUIT BEING A FUCKING DIRECTOR BY RUNNING AWAY?????????? THEY'RE NOT MUTUALLY EXCLUSIVE BRUH WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS LOGIC.

...Okay, I blame Tasha more than I blame Ollison, but still. Ozzie got overwhelmed and ran away. That doesn't mean he quit on the spot; if he had, that would have been enough reason for Ollison to drop this promise of revenge. Ozzie still quit, but it was far away from their prying eyes.

Making a case in point as to why this show really should be animated: if it were, he could've gone to the Big O or the Little O and gotten this straightened out. But both Millie and Shazdeh are too old to reprise their roles now, in this live-action hybrid feature, and so this is what we're stuck with: Captain O doing what they should've done.

Ohhhhhhh, so the Department of Help was created just for him? Okay, makes sense! I kinda thought that was the case!

But it doesn't explain why he plopped Opie into it (or why Captain O did) after he got promoted versus just dissolving the department and letting her stay in Mail. AFAIK, we never got an actual reason for why Opie became the new head of the Department of Help beyond "yeah, you're nice enough and you'll do great". She's nice, but she's insanely stupid, which doesn't bode well for a help-based department.

...Unless they put her in there because she's too stupid for the field...?

For a half-second, I actually thought this would be Silly String, which, in this universe, has binding properties.

...'Scuse me while I go weep.

No...no, Ozzie, no. You explicitly said they were smart but needed a little guidance. "Smart but needs guidance" does not mean "is brain-dead enough to not recognize a book was printed backwards".

God, this is just so painfully convoluted. Olando's backstory made more sense than this and it was tainted only by bad writing! Even The Shadow's backstory made more sense than this and the only problem with her was strictly in her reformation!

I hate everyone who told me Mark wrote this episode, because y'all are fucking liars. And if Mark, Tim, and/or Adam had written this episode, it would have been so much better.

Fool them once, okay, sure.

Fool them twice, fine, I guess.

Fool them thrice, it's getting a little concerning.

Fool them four times, now it's irritating.

Fool them five times, your ass is getting ground into the soil before you're dead.

"you left us! abandoned us!"

uses a gadget that's designed to put their ex-leader out of commission

Leaving you, putting them to sleep, it doesn't matter. The point is that, either way, you have no guidance.

Considering we saw Oxandra wielding at least one gadget as a villainess, who's to say she doesn't have more on her person that can inflict direct harm on her enemy that doesn't put them out of commission, but instead wounds them enough to where they can't do much of anything, like, say, the pies from the pienado?

I've heard talks that this gadget is, in essence, a gun, and firing it at Ozzie would kill him. I'm...somewhat inclined to agree. It's a little muddled because of bad writing (and again, we've had death allusions written by more experienced writers who did it much better, like the aforementioned pienado), but sure, fandom founder deems this a murder attempt. It's about the closest we're gonna get in this trainwreck of a series/season. (I also wanted my "stuff that got past S&P" count to go past 75 and straight to 100. Thinking back on it now, there's no way 12 episodes can amass 15 incidents.)

...Oh.

Huh.

Well then.

WELL THEN.

Talk about fuckin' unexpected 'cause WHOT???????

The fact that she has enough power to fight off the effects of the gadget before succumbing to them is fucking wild, and frankly, huge props to her.

That being said, this has impact, but with more episodes and more time to explore this story, it could have hit so much harder. I'm feeling the same emptiness as I did with Olando and his backstory. And funny enough, both backstories can be attributed to one thing:

Shitty fuckass writing.

History really is doomed to repeat itself, and this franchise is slowly getting cooked.

This, on the other hand, is just incredibly bad editing.

Now, see, if I enter into a state of delusion big enough, I can imagine that the pattern on this key is the symbol of the Big Office department.

Which would be cool, but no one decided to really think of that because we're playing by Precure rules now where seasons aren't canon to one another. (And Precure actually does it a lot better when you don't have someone screeching in your ear about the franchise timeline.)

Can...can the oddness get out by itself? Because there is no way they got into the lift and released oddness themselves, on their own physical power, within se- hold the fuck up, is that our first look at Headquarters?

...Oh my GOD IT IS. WHAT THE HELL. LITERALLY JUST A WHOLE-ASS FIXTURE IN TOWN LMAOOOOOOOOOOOO.

It's not in the death context, of course, but given how Captain O is out of commission and given the fact that this is a finale episode, they got balls to drop "dies" like this outta the fuckin' blue. They could have easily gone with "I hate it when my battery goes!" or a simple "aw man, I lost the video!"

(On to Part 3!)

[mattyriddlesbitch]

CONGRATULATIONS ON 2K WOWWW SO WELL DESERVED

Coffee please! This is basically a copy and paste of my description hahaha but can’t wait to see who you pair me with

I'm quite tall, with mid back length hair. It's like a chestnut brown, and slightly wavy.

Got blessed with great tits LMAO

My interests include reading lots and lots of philosohy, playing all my instruments, martial arts and (weirdly) learning new subjects all the time. My most recent endeavour is computer science.

I'm an ENTJ, usually described as quite commanding. I enjoy taking on more of a leadership role, and can come off (as expected) quite rude and unforgiving. I beg to differ, because I know i'm quite the opposite. I definitely come across as such, but that's because people haven't gotten to know me. Id like to think i'm quite funny, I sort of have this knack for finding something in common with everyone and getting them to warm up to me. An introverted social butterfly of sorts.

Assigned as slytherin but i think my values can align with ravenclaw aswell. I'm quite diplomatic, in the right environments i can be very charismatic too.

I'm good with people. If it doesn't benefit me don't really care that much, but in environments where it really benefits me or I have to, i become a completely different person.

I'm a no bullshit person when it comes to other people. I will happily point out what others won't. I have strong values and stick to them, and people who don't like that aren't worth my time

In terms of relationships i am THE BIGGEST LOVER. I switch up so much. I love domestically sickening relationships, cooking for one another, lazy mornings etc. I think physical intimacy and acts of service are the things i love. I would probably show my partner acts of service and quality time. I would also do physical touch, but if they're the type to crave it too.

1 really love when someone is obsessed with you. I think it gives a sense of security in a relationship. I'm very driven and need someone who can match that, but also need someone who can take a step back at times and bring me back to earth.

My music taste is just depressing. It's all shoegaze and classical. In all honesty i can be a little all over the place, a sweetheart one moment and aggravated at everyone in the next, so someone who isn't put off by that? dream.

My clothings is variable but i'm always well put together. Even if it makes me late, i always make sure to look my best (it's what people first notice about you, so may aswell make the best impression)

Academically driven, i'd say i'm a high performer but i lack motivation. When i put the work in I excel, but it's hard for me to focus.

think my personal type varies largely from who i'd actually be best with so i won't mention it.

If you asked my friend to describe me in three words (one of them has my tumblr, yes i'm taking abt you my fellow gatekeeping queen. Pls say this is correct):

They'd probably say funny, messy (drama wise, not literally) and caring.

My family would probably say fiercely protective, lowk a bit mean but deeply loving

CANT WAIT!! I did just give you like a whole character analysis but WOOOO

I have to go with Theo on this one. I think the domestic stuff you described just screams Theo. I think he'd love how you're always put together, he'd love buying you outfits and jewelry. I don't think he'd be put off with the mood swings, but he'll match your attitude if you give him some.

[xryosakeyx]

Anyways, here's some random sketches related to the fic I finally can get around to posting 'cause it's a bunch! (These span from about three months, so yeah...) They don't really lean into heavy spoiler territory, so I thought it'd be safe to post them!

^Blawsth's champ (name's Lucille, if anyone cares...). First sketch is from earlier today and it's supposed to be of him in his youth. If you've read chapter one already, a specific detail that was made was that the Pokémon Ash is looking for pops up every thirty years or so, and let me tell you, a whole bunch of stuff happened within that time lol. The rest of the sketches were made in June, so I haven't drawn him in a good while. His whole thing was that I based him on shock-rockers and his backstory does take influence from that subset of performers. That comic in the last pic kind of gives ypu the idea of it, and that is if you can even read my stupidly tiny handwrit–

Okay, y'know what? Let me decipher it:

JAKE: You don't get it Ash, Lucille was banned from performing 'cause he went overboard!

ASH: Oh, really?

JAKE: That and he's the champ!

PIKACHU, as a tiny blob thing on Ash's shoulder, turning his back away from the camera as he sees a weird goth-thing from the distance: Pi.

JAKE: Ah! There he is, great eyes Pikachu! Lu-cille! Sign my autograph, please!!!

Alright, satisfied?

^Some gym leader stuff. First sketch is supposed to be of a double-battle gym where one specializes in water and the other with fire. Their main motif is that they're supposed to be treasure hunters, so their Pokémon are very agile in combat as they bounce back from one another. I'm still trying to work on their outfits a little, but their masks are supposed to be based on their aces which are (of course) more fakmons! Their names (right to left) are Lenny and Hans.

Second was two sketches I did of the grass specialist, Vendanna, who is an actor known for her stunts. The main challenge in her gym is the various status effects her Pokémon can create (mostly poison), so trainers should watch out!

Third is Lizzie who is supposed to be a ghost specialist. She tends to be very introverted, only popping up whenever the supernatural bells ring, but her Pokémon are the complete opposite and love getting other's nerves. I based her off trad-goth stereotypes because I feel like they're very underespresented in media, but yeah, she's basically Blawsth's personal "witch" and has more knowledge about the card game than most people (still unsatisfied with her boots though...). Also, her ears are pointed 'cause I felt like making them pointy :P

Also, BTW, these won't be the exact order of gym leaders Ash and co. have to deal with, I just felt like sharing them for now!

^Rivals. I unfortunately can't really share much of their story with you guys as their role leans into spoiler territory, so I'll keep it as brief as possible. First is named Cianna and seriously wants to be the The Very Best Like No One Ever Was™. Out of Blawsth of course. Alright, in all seriousness, as a childhood friend who had to move upstate years ago, she hoped to reunite with Miley, who is oddly very evasive towards her, which is quite sad because she never got around to say goodbye to her...And that is as much info I can actually share on the both of them as characters! Alright, onto the next one...

The second is named Urie and oh boy I seriously can not wait to finally introduce him to the story. If you can recognize who I nabbed his color pallete from, congratulations, you're still not really going any relevent story info until I actually write about it. Anyways, all you gotta know about this guy is that he has this smirk you just want to punch and he's annoyling very friendly, surprsingly enough. To an extent (I could only post this single sketch of him though as (A.) I was only going for the color pallet when it came to this set so I couldn't care less about the face... and (B.) I do have an entire page just dedicated to him because he's so absurd of a character to me, but unfortunately it's behind another page filled with sharpie sketches and if you guess anything from the third pic, it likes to bleed through a lot).

Third is Luka and not only is she a coordinator hailing from Unova but she also participates in gym matches as well! She also oddly wants Ash to step away from his companions, for some reason...Yeah, gotta keep things hush-hush, lol. Other than that, she's a very snarky individual, some might even compare her to an Ekans. Others...a more sinister Pokémon...(anyways, say hi to Lizzie again at the bottom corner! She's selling her a doll that doesn't even work, LOL!) (Also, I imagine this one with a Joisey accent!)

Anyways, that's as much as Tumblr will let me post without going over the image limit, so I'll go follow up with this post tomorrow! Your SOTD has been brought to you by, once again, Specimen! I keep thinking of this song in paticular when it comes to contest ideas, especially considering Blawsth's whole culture going a little bit overboard with it ever since Lucille was banned from performing.

[man-down-in-hatchet-town]

Enter Sandman

Spoilers for The Case of the Greater Gatsby Episode 9 below the cut.

I really, REALLY enjoyed this episode! Lots of fun quotes and little moments that piqued my interest and got ye olde wheels churning (not necessarily a good thing for the rest of you, but fun for me). And what a great use of set-up and pay-off with Willie's book club!

But before we get to all of that, a massive CONGRATULATIONS to my man Cliff Calloway on the romantic getaway to Ibiza with his contractor! And another massive CONGRATULATIONS to his household staff for not having to worry about any more bathrooms being added to the mix. It's nice when things work out! (Please let this work out. Do not take this away from me and Cliff and his housekeepers, Shipwrecked).

But onto the actual events of the episode. So Darby is getting tutored, which is perhaps the most sensible and least surprising thing happening on that entire set. Unless our note writer is using Mr. Broderick to infiltrate the set, I don't really think Darby's education will have anything to do with the case, but she did drop the potentially crucial factoid about Mel having a shindig on the night of Fitzy's death. We know he and Sheila were out partying that night--was this the event in question? (I might be wrong, but I don't think we've gotten the answer to exactly where he was that evening, right?) If so, that could place so many people with F. Scott the night someone decided that he had to die.

Also on the set, Leery received a threat of his own! The most notable thing about this note, besides its method of delivery (bold, and also underlines the suspicion that whoever writes/delivers the notes has free access to the lot and probably is or links back to one of the cast/crew/creatives) is that we don't know what it says. This is the only one that hasn't been read to the audience. Is this because it's the same-old same-old, nothing notable, anti-Grapes of Wrath stuff? Or are we meant to think that way, when in fact there's an important clue within that Shipwrecked is waiting to reveal? Even if it is simply another anti-adaption hit piece, it's notable that our Fitzgerald-penned movie has had three stars threatened--more than any other production that we know about. On one hand, a tap-dance version of The Grapes of Wrath is clearly a whole new level of egregious, so its understandable why whoever writes the letters would hate it the most. But still, the clear focus on Grapes is a definite tick in the "the anti-adaption letters are a really a smoke-screen for something else" column.

And then there's the big reveal of the episode: F. Scott Fitzgerald kept tapes of his writing process. Besides explaining Daniel Vincent Gordh's casting as Fitzy (I've genuinely been wondering about how they were going to incorporate him for months), this is huge for the cast. The tapes likely hold at least some answers as to what secrets The Greater Gatsby contained, why it was stolen, why Fitzgerald was killed, and maybe even who committed the murder. (It also could tell us and Fig about the secret Ford is protecting. I STILL HAVEN'T FORGOTTEN ABOUT THAT.) But where are these golden clues? It's possible, though unlikely, that they're boxed away at the studio like Sheila suggested. It's possible that whoever took the script also took them. But I keep coming back to the Persauds taking time out of the narrative to describe some of Zelda's paintings on the walls--particularly the one that shows a man whispering something "surreptitious" and is hanging slightly crooked. Like someone's been messing with it. What if the tapes are behind that painting? Could there be a safe in the wall, or even one or two tapes with the most vital information taped onto the painting's back (if the fame is bulky enough)? The subject matter of the art equates it with the hiding and telling of secrets, both making it an appropriate work to use to protect such things and also referencing the nature of the script stored on the missing tapes. And that would explain part of why Fitzgerald was so keen on keeping some of Zelda's work on the walls--one painting to protect his work, the others to distract. The psychological implications of him using Zelda's work to protect his precious secrets is also really interesting.

(My other thought is--what if F. Scott Fitzgerald was recording the night that he died? What if the final tape captured the voice of his killer, or even the murder itself? In that case, it certainly wouldn't be with the other tapes potentially hidden behind paintings or stored in studios, but it could be the set-up for a great reveal later on.)

Speaking of Zelda, welcome to the party Tessa Netting! I know that "it's the loose ends with which men hang themselves" is an actual famous quote from the real Mrs. Fitzgerald, but boy-oh-boy was it sinister in this particular context...

And off our duo goes to try and figure her out, anyways. I don't know about you guys, but I'm excited for the potential chaos of "no cop, no cop" if Ford actually ends up going along with Fig's shenanigans for once (he's thawing! I love him!).

[fortysevenswrites]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love ❤

Tagged by @astarkey! Thanks!

Hopefully writing about this will give me the kick in the pants I’ve been looking for the last week to finish one of my current SK WIPs….😬😬😬

1 we don’t make the future, we just know it (pre-canon SethKate)

Look y’all, this came to me while I was in the shower and is cracky and absurd and one of the best things I’ve ever written. Two and a half years later and I’m still obsessed with this ridiculous little fic. It’s insane. It’s hilarious. It’s ALSO TECHNICALLY CANON. And I love it so much. It never fails to bring a smile to my face.

2 Good People, Bad Beer (post S3 SethKate)

Seth and Kate bonding over shitty beer and making out against the back of a car after surviving Matanzas, what more can you ask for? I re-read this one A Lot. It’s so good. I love it so much. Seth being dumb about them while Kate is sitting there super certain about them both is one of my favorite dynamics to write for them.

3 not the same (post TPS2/DDS3 Kastle)

Maria gets a pass out of the afterlife and uses it to browbeat her erstwhile husband into committing to get a better apartment and matchmaking him and Karen. Because of course she would. Maria Castle totally ships it, and it works because I said so and it’s not like anyone in the comics actually stays dead anyway.

4 watching over someone from afar (post TPS2 Kastle)

This was a BEHEMOTH inspired by a Sailor Moon quote and it’s such a delight. There’s nothing I love more than putting Karen together with the Lieberman family, and especially with Sarah. The dramatic scenes between Karen and Frank, especially the one right after Frank called David freaking out because he thought she was missing when she was really just snowed in at their house was just so much fun to write and it’s a beast of a fic but so much fun to go back to. Also fun to throw in those bits of Karen traumatizing Foggy on purpose.

5 There Is No Easy Way To Explain (post TPS1 Kastle)

“Karen, I know you kind of got thrown in to the whole paralegal thing, but did Matt and Foggy not teach you a thing about ethics? Specifically, the ethics of not sleeping with your client? Especially the clients on trial for almost forty fucking homicides.” - okay but like, this fic has some of the best one-liners I’ve ever written, and Marci’s POV is SUCH a fun sandbox to play around in. She’s just like..how do you LIVE and Karen’s like…hot marine with an eight-pack ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Honorable mentions, because I could not resist: what died didn’t stay dead (you’re alive, you’re alive in my head) SethKate, post S3 and Seth just does not understand how Kate is alive because he’s in awe of her, which, duh. Chapter 4 of The Strongest Stars one-shot RebelCaptain, Jyn and Cassian aren’t easy to write and this was just a fun bit of banter, It Often Rhymes Damerey takes a jaunt to Naboo and I choose not to care that Force Ghosts don’t work like that, Going Through The Unimaginable Damerey, post TLJ and they're all stuck on the Falcon and was just really fun to write, Three People, Two Reunions, One Room In Medical (RebelCaptain, post ANH - it’s a crime that Jyn and Leia never got to interact outside of some of the comic canon)

Tagging: @myletternevercame, @tuntematonkorppi, @the-restless-brook, @heidiamalia, @ninzied, @152glasslippers, @theputterer and basically anyone who wants to partake. Congratulations, consider yourselves tagged!

[synthient]

Probably observations that have been made by plenty of people over the last century, but:

Fascinating how the Evil and Unnatural control that Dracula wields over people, is mirrored against the Good and Natural control of men over women; the rich over the poor; the British over backwards and savage foreigners; doctors over the insane.

Fascinating how much the Jonathan's Spooky Castle Adventure segment is subtextally about the horror of feminization. On the obvious level of being subject to sexual violence, sure, but also on the level of being trapped in a domestic space that you're not allowed to leave. The person who's the greatest threat to you is the also the person you've been made absolutely dependant on. You have to keep up a cheerful facade, play along with his social games, and pretend to be too stupid to realize you're a prisoner, if you want any hope of survival.

Fascinating how much the rest of the (surface level) text is dedicated to frantically backtracking that (early, subtextal) insight. The Heteropatriarchal Gender Order is actually the greatest thing in the word! Look how rosy and wholesome the scooby gang polycule is! (Again, our cute jokey pseudo-polygamy is mirrored against their barbarous 3 brides). Yet all the while, the inherent grotesqueness of these relations can't help bleeding through the sentimental trappings - the "euthanasia is such a beautiful word" bit springs to mind

Fascinating how our Three Heroes are, respectively, representatives of The Psychiatric Order, The British Nobility, and American Colonial Expansion (Quincy specifically gets congratulated on the recent Texan secession from Mexio). Fascinating how Dracula and Van Helsing never actually face off directly - everything is mediated through Mina, and it all comes down to a brainwash-off to see who can control her better.

Fascinating how Jonathan's feminization narrative is also haunted by the specter of institutionalization (via the Renfield subplot, which barely ties in with the main story on a surface level). It's not the horrors themselves that affect him the most - it's not being able to trust his own perceptions. (It's the idea that if he really had been "mad," then his imprisonment would have been justified).

Fascinating that the book later goes to great pains to show that he's Regained His Manly Vigour And Has A Knife Now, yet his emasculation still clings to him in the Dracula-based cultural consciousness: he's composited with Renfield to keep that emasculation from infecting the hero in the 30s; he's the unappealing weak prettyboy of the 90s love triangle; he's Shaggy in the scooby gang (unrelated to the Serious Analysis, but it is deeply funny how obvious the Velma=Mina/Daphne=Lucy/Fred=Arthur inspo is now).

Fascinating how much the ultimate question of the book is "What's the Right way to do gender? (and therefore do whiteness/Britishness/patriarchy/colonialism/capitalism?) The answer, apparently, is that both sexes should aspire to a "a woman's brain and a man's heart" - Mina's man-brain, and the Five Guys' woman-sensitivity - while still dutifully playing the roles of their "natural" power dynamic. The obvious inverse is a woman's brain with a man's heart - and is that not Dracula and his "child brain;" the brides and their "cold hard voluptuousness"?

Fascinating to read Mina and Jonathan as effectively the same character (with Mina picking up the gender-power themes Jonathan left off, in a more socially-acceptable vessel). Fascinating how strong the religious cognitive dissonance is throughout. And of course, the whole thing is drenched with Bram Stoker sending some gay little letters to Walt Whitman (as every single victorian gay guy apparently did), then seeing the Oscar Wilde trial and Freaking Out

[softguarnere]

For Whatever We Lose

Lewis Nixon x OFC (slow burn, enemies to lovers) Chapter 2: Starting Places

Summary: The newly minted NCOs of Easy Company: Women's Squad find an unexpected ally A/N: The accent that the others make fun of Minerva for having is known as a "Hoi Toid"/"Carolina Brogue" accent and is found on the Outer Banks (OBX) of North Carolina! It used to be more common, but if you visit the Barrier Islands, you can still find some older folks who have it. There are several videos online if you want to hear what it sounds like :) Thanks for the positive reception of the first chapter! I hope you guys will enjoy this one as well Warnings: none Taglist: @kujofam

Far away from her parents, far away from all the good manners and ladylike responses that her mother ever taught her, far away from the woman she once was who had to keep her cool at the front of a classroom, Minerva blurts out the first thing that pops into her head.

“Private.”

A dark eyebrow quirks in question. “Pardon me?”

“Private Revels,” Minerva says. “It’s a rank I’ve had to work hard to keep.”

To her surprise, this makes the man behind the desk smile – a real smile this time. And instead of the intimidation that he’s been exuding since well before she stepped into the room, he relaxes a bit. Not what Minerva was expecting. Especially when she glances down at his name tag that reads SOBEL and is finally able to place him. The captain’s reputation precedes him, and the scoffs and rude gestures that he inspires are a trail in his wake whenever he passes by men with lower rank.

Captain Sobel gestures to the other empty seat in front of his desk, but instead of inviting her to sit, he only says, “It would appear that the rumors are true, then. You really do have a strange accent.” He glances at the file in front of him, dark brows furrowing slightly. “Tell me, where is Frisco, exactly?”

How dare he?! Minerva digs her fingernails into the soft flesh of her palms, setting her clenched fists in her lap as she sits. She draws in a deep breath and levels her voice, putting on her polite teacher voice before answering, “It’s on the Outer Banks of North Carolina, sir.”

“Hmm.” The file is flipped closed and tossed aside on the desk, like all the information within it is being dismissed. “Are you and Mi – Er, Private, excuse me, Bradham neighbors, then?”

Minerva glances at Diana in the chair next to her, the other girl’s eyes still wide. Out of all the women, she knows the least about Diana. Quiet, careful Diana, who always keeps to herself, and who Minerva honestly sometimes forgets is even there. She only knows that she’s from North Carolina because she once overheard her say something about it to Bianca. She has no clue what part of the state –

It hits her then, like a punch to the gut. Diana Bradham. North Carolina. Brad’s Drink.

“Are you from New Bern?” Minerva ventures.

Diana nods, and she knows then that she’s right: Diana Bradham, somehow or other, is related to the creator of Pepsi-Cola.

“No,” Minerva says to the captain. “No, sir. Frisco and New Bern are quite a ways apart. A whole sound between them.”

“That’s what I wondered,” Captain Sobel says. “It would have been curious for one of you to have such a strong accent, and the other not to.”

The accent again? As if she hasn’t gotten enough grief over how she sounds since arriving here, now her new captain has to lay into her about it as well. Clearly it’s never occurred to anyone else that they all sound really funny to her. God, at least in college there were a few people who sounded similar, so not everyone felt the need to comment on it.

When neither woman speaks, Captain Sobel finally gets down to business. “Well, out of all the women, you two are the only ones with college degrees. Congratulations.”

What about Lori? She mentions Vassar College at least three times a day. Shouldn’t she be here? Unless . . . No, surely she actually attended the college; her parents can afford it. But perhaps she hasn’t completed her degree yet.

“I’m sure that Colonel Sink already explained everything to you,” Captain Sobel continues. “You two are being made sergeants and will have a lot of responsibility over Easy Company: Women’s Squad until Lieutenant Lowe finishes OCS and arrives. Just to be clear – “ He clasps his hands together and leans forward on his desk, making sure he has their attention as he emphasizes his point. “ – Easy Company is the best. I have worked hard to get it that way, and Colonel Sink knows this. That is why he has entrusted me with taking you girls in. I want for you to succeed, I really do. Successfully training and integrating a division of women would be a great accomplishment. But you have to pull your weight.

“I expect you to keep the girls in line. School yard drama will not be tolerated. That applies to both them and to my men. Fraternization could tear down everything I have worked for. I will not have this venture staining Easy Company’s good name – my good name. Am I clear?” When they nod, he sits back in his seat, surveying them. He nods. “Good. Please believe me when I say that I really do want this to work out. But mistakes will not be tolerated.”

He stands, his posture relaxing, and extends a hand to each of them in turn. His smile is actually pleasant. “Tomorrow you will join Easy Company for PT and we will get the squad introduced to the men. I look forward to working with you all.”

Minerva gives the firmest handshake of her life, trying to make it as strong and as professional as her parents have taught her; no limp fish to make a bad first impression. She pumps the captain’s hand with gusto and tries to tell herself that his lingering touch, the way he holds onto her hand just a second too long afterwards, is all in her imagination.

When he dismisses them, Minerva makes the steps in her exit as clean and as orderly as possible. She’s a sergeant now, after all. If Captain Sobel wants perfection, by God, she’s going to deliver. Besides, if Minerva is good at anything, it’s that when she decides that she wants something or that when she decides to do something, she will get it and she will do it well.

They pause outside the building. In the evening sunlight, Minerva studies Diana for the first time – really studies her. The girl from New Bern hasn’t exactly made herself easy to know. And perhaps her last name is why.

What is there for Minerva to say? Before she can decide, Diana jumps right into the thick of things.

“You went to college,” she says, addressing Minerva’s own secret.

Minerva nods. She hasn’t revealed much about her background – only to Keziah, really – but now they’re being thrown into this thing together, so Diana deserves to know. “Meredith College, in Raleigh.”

Diana’s eyes widen, her pretty lips betraying a smile. “Me, too! I graduated last year.”

Last year?! Were they on campus at the same time? Minerva is only twenty-two. With the limited education available on the Barrier Islands, she finished what was accessible at sixteen, applied to the nearest women’s school, and started at seventeen with a scholarship and money from Pop that he promises she never has to pay back, despite her assertions that she will. Degree in hand, she came back to Hatteras Island and started teaching at the small school just up the road, although she’d rather be out on the boat with her dad, if she’s being honest. Or in the lighthouse with Pop. Or at the Life-Saving Station with so many of her old friends.

The classroom, her mother’s voice echoes in her head, is a fine place for a young lady.

Colonel Sink had said two of them had degrees. So this means –

“Lori hasn’t finished school?” Minerva guesses.

“Or never went,” Diana suggests, not giving the debutante the benefit of the doubt.

“She talks about it all the time though . . . Unlike us.”

Diana smiles again, but it’s shier this time. “I didn’t want anyone to think that I only made it this far because of my family. Staying in the background seemed like the safest option, but it’s been harder now that there are fewer of us.”

Because of her family. So unlike Lori, who they all know comes from money, and who never shuts up about her family and their connections. What will the redheaded heiress have to say when she learns that Diana is of her stock?

“I just thought you were shy,” Minerva admits.

“You don’t talk much yourself.” The other woman tilts her head, her brown eyes narrowing slightly, like she’s trying to puzzle through something. “Funny, you’re quiet, but you have a big presence. You don’t say much, but somehow, you keep being pushed to the forefront.”

Big presence? What does that mean? Chalk it up to being a teacher, maybe. Spending so much time standing in front of people and talking while trying to retain their undivided attention might do that to a person.

“Well, we’re both going to have to change that. NCOs, but from the looks of it, we’re about to be as good as officers until a real one gets here.”

Diana bites her lip. “Somehow, I don’t see this going over well with a lot of the women.”

“You mean Lori.”

“Obviously.”

She almost laughs. Talking to Diana is easier than she ever would have imagined. And so far, they’re on the same page. This could work out well for them – as long as the eight other women don’t decide to make themselves impossible to lead.

“At least the captain seems to be on our side,” Diana points out. It’s maybe the strangest part of this whole affair, Captain Sobel, notoriously hateful, seeming like he wants them to succeed. The man they met in that office was not so close to the one they’ve heard so many displeased whispers about.

“Well, as long as he stays there.”

Minerva isn’t sure what exactly she thought would happen when they make it back to the barracks. Surely she didn’t expect applause or congratulatory cheers the second that she and Diana stepped through the doorway. Lori’s glare and refusal to make eye contact were expected, but the rest of the women – bar Keziah – just seem . . . confused at the recent development. They don’t even get the chance to announce their own promotion, because everyone else seems to have figured out what their absence during dinner meant.

“Well, there they are,” Anna says when they return. “The new sergeants of the squad.”

“Not my pick.” Close to the door, Anita’s aggrieved mutter has no trouble reaching the two sergeants in question. A quick glance at Diana reveals her face turning pink with shame. Minerva forces her spine to stiffen, makes herself taller in response, determined to be strong enough for both of them. The surge of anger and annoyance fuels her resolve.

Lounging on her bed, Juanita’s eyes flick over them both, sizing them up. “What college did you even go to?”

“Meredith,” they both answer, though Minerva’s answer is stronger, more sure than Diana’s.

“Well it ain’t Vassar, but it’s something!” Lucy exclaims, slapping a hand on her knees and laughing heartily at her own joke. Several others join in, although Lori’s silence is deafening. You would have to be blind to miss the way that the heiress’ jaw clenches, so tightly that she could crack a few teeth.

All at once, the atmosphere of the bunkhouse is explained: Lori’s anger, her embarrassment, loom so large that everyone has been struggling under it, like the blanket of humidity that coats Georgia’s summer air. Now they all know her secret. The tension lessons, a little, at least, and the subject changes, with several women asking questions about what will be expected of them now that they’re joining Easy Company.

By the time they all go to sleep, the other women don’t like them, per se, but at least they seem open to the idea of having Minerva and Diana as sergeants. Maybe today’s changes will bring together the small, fragmented groups of women and help form them into a cohesive unit. Give them a new sense of identity.

Still, if they want to live up to Captain Sobel’s standards, to show everyone that they can be on par with the men, they’re going to have to hit the ground running. As the glares and frowns begin to thaw into somewhat warmer looks, Minerva feels the muscles in her shoulders loosen and her nails unstick from the palms of her hands. They’ve got their work cut out for them, she knows, but this is a start.

[tellthemeerkatsitsfine]

Another Chortle headline roundup, and this one is... look, maybe the arts have had a good go, and don't need to happen anymore. Maybe we can all take a step back and ask ourselves how many bits of written or spoken word the world actually needs. (This does not apply to the new Garth Marenghi book, Matthew Holness should feel free to do his thing into eternity, if he likes).

I did enjoy this, further down the page, though:

Because it says:

American talk-show hosts including John Oliver and Stephen Colbert have launched a podcast to support Hollywood’s striking writers. The broadcast rivals, who have been off air for four months, joined forces for the Spotify series to raise money for their crew. Jimmy Fallon, Jimmy Kimmel and Seth Meyers are also involved in the project, named  Strike Force Five.  

So, is that a correct estimation they've made of British audiences, assuming they've definitely heard of John Oliver and Stephen Colbert, but the other three can be afterthoughts that you may or may not have heard of? Congratulations, John! You're finally famous in Britain! If you'd only you'd managed that 15 years ago, maybe you wouldn't have had to leave.

I haven't listened to any of this podcast yet. I have downloaded both episodes so far, with the thought that maybe I'll skim them at some point. I have to balance my desire to hear John Oliver talk with my lack of desire to hear those other four guys talk. Not that I hate any of them or anything, I'm just not at all interested in them and I don't really want to listen to a whole hour of four guys I don't care about and John Oliver. (with Colbert as a bit of an exception, I did love The Colbert Report as a teenager and watched it every night for years, but I haven't followed or wanted to follow anything he's done since). I have even less of a need to listen to the episodes because of the great recaps @lastweeksshirttonight has been doing. Those recaps are all I really want from this podcast - a summary of what happened in general, with a significant focus on John Oliver's contributions. So I probably don't have to listen to any of them myself now, I can just read that.

I have to say, looking at those five names in a row - I know they're all self-aware about this, and pointing it out is nothing new, and people talk about it all the time, but still, putting them all together as Strike Force Five really drives home how much late night TV in America is run by five straight white men, two of whom look like the same person and also have the same name. They couldn't have invited, like, Trevor Noah or Samantha Bee? Yes I realize both of them stopped doing the late-night job in 2022 and therefore don't have shows that are currently on strike, but still, recent enough, and going with a bit of tokenism might have been slightly better than just having the five as they are in this case. (I also realize that a whole lot of my favourite comedy things involve groups of straight white men, but in my defense, those are mostly from the 00s, and we're theoretically supposed to have more diversity in 2023, right?)

Also, it's been a while now but I don't think I've mentioned in a post yet that the brief, beautiful, never-actually-really-realistic-but-it-looked-slightly-possible-for-a-moment-there dream of John Oliver on Taskmaster is dead. He's announced new shows that conflict with the recording dates. He said he was doing those shows to make more money to keep paying his writers while they strike, which of course is the main reason for his whole stand-up tour, and is also the stated reason for this podcast. Which I guess is a good thing for me to remember, when I was making my post about how he's doing stand-up even though he doesn't need the money because he likes having work to do so maybe he'll do Taskmaster for the same reason. I suppose I could have taken a slightly broader view and remembered things like the large numbers of show staff who are not John Oliver rich and who need support, and doing stand-up in the US will do a lot more to solve that problem than flying to England to do Taskmaster, so, okay, fine, I guess John Oliver's making reasonable choices here. I guess if I try to be less myopic, I can remember that people's livelihoods are more important than having John Oliver on Taskmaster.

Anyway. The point is, get it together Chrotle.

God, does the world ever not fucking need any of those things.

[plastictreehugger]

First Sentences and Other Expectations

     I find that whenever I write, no matter what for, I can’t put anything on the paper unless I have a first sentence. An essay, a story, a poem, anything…my brain won’t let me continue unless I have the perfect first sentence; my mind curbs any progress; my fingers move by themselves and always seem to find their way to the Backspace key over, and over, and over, until nothing's left. Looking back, I’ve probably eradicated multiple novels’ worth of opening thoughts because they weren’t right. Some have called me a perfectionist, but I don’t care for perfect things – my hodgepodge haircut made with safety scissors and class notes with more doodles than words can attest to that. I think my problem is that I care for meaning. I don’t care if my writing isn’t flawlessly crafted – I am human after all – I just want it to mean something. I’ve come to multiple teachers with this trouble – every teacher I’ve ever had to write an essay for – and every response I’ve gotten so far has been some variation of Well, sometimes you just have to write. They all say it in that sweet tone only humanities teachers seem to muster that makes me think that maybe this time will be different, but it never is. I seem to be better at writing emails begging for extensions than I am at doing what I’ve been assigned to do. With no solutions for truly solving the problem, I am opting to try to find the root.      Maybe it was all those years of English classes that I held so dear to my heart that was the complication. Even after the zeroes and the F’s on my report cards, I still haven’t let go of my love for it. My first time reading a real novel for school in seventh grade, my excitement spilled out of me; I couldn’t contain it. Finally, I could breathe – no more sucky state-test-prep packets without substance – we were reading something real. I felt the same for my first creative writing project. Maybe that’s where the problem started, the years and years of English classes for telling me that good stories start with good hooks. They’re what make the reader want to keep reading. Now I fear that without that first sentence, nothing I write will ever be worth reading at all.      Maybe it was the first time I won an award for my writing. I won an award though I never thought I deserved one. I was in disbelief when I saw the Congratulations! sitting in my inbox – I didn’t realize that I was capable of making something that was actually... good. Even as more congratulations flooded in from my friends and family, I don’t think I ever really processed it. I thought my stories were subpar at best, nothing noteworthy. I still cringe showing them to people who ask and refrain from ever reading over them. Since then, I’ve never finished a piece of creative writing. The furthest I’ve gotten is three paragraphs. That seems to be my limit before my whole body freezes and the deletion cycle begins again. People ask me everytime award season comes around if I’m going to submit something this year. I might…depends if I can finish something, I laugh. I know I won’t – I think I’m scared of writing. Maybe I’m scared that if I write something else, everyone will realize what I knew all along – I was never good at writing.      Maybe it was my mother. My mother was so proud of me that she cried when I called her to tell her that I had actually won something for what I had written. She told me that I was a writer just like her. That moment burned a mark on my mind and never seemed to leave. I wondered if one day she’d realize that she made a mistake. She is a real writer, nothing like the facade I feel I have put on. The word writer always terrified me; her calling me one did nothing to ease my anxiety. Maybe I was scared that I’d disappoint her, that she’d realize I was never any good at writing, that I wasn’t like her after all.

     Maybe it was the stories themselves. Even this essay was one attempt of many. Many. From familial problems to the best night of my life to old regrets – no ideas stuck. I have pages of first lines that weren’t good enough; I stared at the words hoping that maybe they would rearrange themselves in an order that made sense. Everyday for the past month, I wrote a new first line until the document was ten pages long, but the blaring siren of fears filled my mind. I couldn’t shake them and replaced that document with a new one – this one. I cried with frustration more times than I can count. All I needed was the right few words, and I couldn’t understand why that seemed so impossible. Maybe I’m not capable of coming up with something good enough to be written at all.

     Or maybe it was never anything at all. All stories are just words no matter how good or bad. I placed so much weight on what I should be writing that I forgot how. Until I decided to write about what was happening to me when I tried. The alarms in my head slowly faded as I laid them on the paper. Giving them a voice seemed to quiet their neverending nagging. As each paragraph concluded, I began to realize what all those English teachers meant when they told me I just had to write. I was doing it – I was writing. The words first trickled out of me, then began to pour, then burst out of me like a dam that couldn’t contain the water anymore. As the words spilled through me, I realized that the only voice I could hear was that of the sentences I was putting down. The expectations of those around me, the longing to be meaningful, the terrifying title of writer – none of it seemed important anymore. I just had to start. I had to write the words down, not the first perfect sentence, just the words, the other words – the second and the third sentence, and then more and more. 

     Maybe all those teachers were right – sometimes you just have to write. 

[rowanthestrange]

Eh, citation needed to be honest. The episodes so far:

“Season One” with 14:

-Both the conceit of the whole thing and details of Episode One relies on a firm remembering of characters and details of a story from fifteen years ago. You weren’t watching back then? Rip. You forgor? Rip. The most unjumping on point conceivable for Season One Episode One babyyy. How are there 14 Doctors I thought there could only be 13? You don’t get an explanation. The Doctor’s just gonna talk about being really fucking old now when you thought the Doctor was 900. Are you watching and not a legal adult yet? Well hope you heard how fun 10 and Donna were and went back to watch the old stuff, or else you get the fun job of quickly picking up on new old characters. We’ve brought back a famous comic alien. What do you mean you didn’t know there were comics.

-Episode Two: Hey did you guys skip the 13th Doctor’s series as casuals are renowned to have done? Sucks to suck. The Doctor isn’t a Time Lord? Abandoned? Adopted? Oh you’re confused? Tough, I’m not going to explain the whole thing. Take it as read or do the homework.

-Episode Three: Congratulations, if you weren’t there to be traumatised by Donna’s ending fifteen years ago, you don’t know what’s going on but it sounds bad so you’re just going to have to roll with it. Also enjoy this very rough explanation of a character that’s about 60 years old that’s all you’re getting. What do you mean creatures outside the dimensions? If you didn’t watch the middle bits of Classic Who I guess just skim over that, just nod, just nod.

“Season Two” with 15:

Church and Episode One: Haha I mean it, go back and watch the 13th Doctor, this abandoned baby Doctor not being a Time Lord plotline is going to persist, and I hope you got the subtext Chibs was laying down cus we’re gonna carry on as if you did. Don’t know why the Doctor’s able to blow regeneration energy into a butterfly cus it’s apparently not a limited resource? We won’t be explaining. Just smile and wave. The show says it all links together but you don’t know the Doctor’s backstory enough to know what that means? Smile and wave.

Episode Two: We will be persisting with the niche Classic Who callbacks. Here’s a character mentioned last seen 60 years ago. Don’t know if you should know who these characters are? Don’t worry about it.

(Everyone’s talking about Mel in the trailer and you still don’t really know who that is? Don’t worry about it).

((Haven’t been noticing the same woman appearing as a background character over and over and over again? Don’t worry about it.))

Like I get it. But the amount of stuff a “casual” already has to look past and adjust to and fill in for themselves in Russell’s work right now is bananas. But they do. Why?

Cus it really isn’t that hard to introduce niche characters or concepts in a way that normies understand. At all. We do it constantly. Russell is an expert in it because that’s what he had to do with everything from Autons to Rassilon for four years to literal children.

Like even our most niche of characters - no-one has ever needed more than 30 seconds to get the character of Iris Wildthyme across in any media she’s ever been in. Popular niche characters are popular because they boil down to a few simple elements that Are Cool. A good character is easy to get across even for someone of no prior knowledge.

The amount that Casual Viewers don’t understand in NuNu-Who is huge, but Rusty is a master of getting them to ignore that feeling and learn on the job enough to get through. And perhaps enticing them to find out what they’re missing and start the journey to being a fan instead. The Casuals almost never understand the actual macro story or people in it, watching it just gives them happy feelings. And so long as you do that — as Rusty is a genius at doing — he has proven time and again you can do whatever the heck niche thing you want that they were never going to fully understand anyway. A good writer can write for both at once. And he does. Never forget, this is the man who rebooted Doctor Who with fucking Autons instead of Daleks.

As ever, when theorising the Dr who fandom would do well to remember that the show is made first & foremost for casual fans lmao