#fangirl modus off

[dreamsfulblues]

I die every time with how quickly Karamatsu’s body language changes AND THE VOICE

“I’m such a cool dude heh òvó “

To

“Oh my god I’m so sorry please forgive me óvò”

Love it

[va9art]

I think I’ve been quiet for way too long and I should come back and fangirl about it.

Before I go down the many lines of praises I have to just to let you know all about, all things considered, I think of myself as a huge Dramione fan but one that relatively to the majority of us in the fandom, doesn’t consume just as much.

I read fanfictions, but no that much - I read more books. (those sold on bookshop, you know the old paper concept).

I enjoy HP characters - but I somehow don’t branch out. (I tend to stick way too often with DHr and generally consider branching out when it’s a Draco/Hermione/Theo 🤷‍♀️)

I go crazy mad for certain fanfics too - but somehow I limit myself to rec those ff when asked, and generally leave only kudos.

So, if I’ve learned anything from @winewandsandwafflingpodcast I certainly need to step up my games.

First and foremost:

1. If you happen to read this post, go and click on the tag above, then find the podcast, put your headphone on and press play. Enjoy, darling.

I am now going through the very pleasurable job of catching up with the last few months worth of episodes - that somehow I missed to keep up lately, so typical of me, and I cannot express my gratitude to @frumpologist and her host @ladykenz347 enough for this podcast and their discussions. I am having such a great time listening to you fangirl-ing hard and simultaneously discuss on very deep level the analysis of fics and most importantly the fandom itself! You’re constantly touching important aspects of the world we live in - though only virtually, and I think your critical points of view, together with the voices of guests that you bring from the fandom, are a much needed review that we need to hear, explore and share together. So, really, thank you.

And it’s because of them and their Episode 8, that I finally branch out-branch out. With none other than:

‘The Secretary’ by @pacific-rimbaud

Summary:

Threatened with the loss of her trust fund allowance, wild child Pansy Parkinson takes her mother up on an offer she can't refuse: a job at the Ministry of Magic as personal secretary to tightly wound bureaucrat Percy Weasley.

The job is demanding, and so is her boss, in ways that Pansy never could have imagined.

When their mutual desires begin to spin out of control, how will Pansy convince her boss that sometimes, the only rules you need to follow are your own?

A loving tribute to the pure and criminally underappreciated magic that is the ParkWeasel ship, and the 2002 film Secretary.

Here I come:

This fic had me - all of me: attention, heart, fangirl wailing, all of it, from the very beginning. It shouldn’t really come as a surprise, since I absolutely adore PacificRimbaud’s writing style and stories. I am not quite too sure I can put Party Lines behind this fic, there is no need surely since one is a Dramione (surprise surprise) and the other one is a ParkWeasel, and why shall I even throw in there Major Arcana a Lucius Malfoy/Andromeda Black Tonks? This creator here has an extraordinary ability to make you instantly fall head to toe for rare pairs that you usually forgo, because - really, I know my linkings - and no, you don’t. The second you step into one of her story, the minute you begin to say ‘oh well, but that sounds nice,’ you’re so damn past the point where you can go back to your comfortable pairs, so much so that you might just want to change your introduction on Tumblr and just add the tag ‘whatever PacificRimbaud’s rare-pair present you with - I ship it’. I surely should, because now I’ve just locked eyes with a Draco/Scabior tag and I am trying to stay calm, because truly I should know my bloody likings, shouldn’t I?

I am one that adore, above all, Dom/Sub fictions without any worries to say this out loud, but I understand how this might not be the proverbial beloved cup of tea of one’s likings, so I should explain why this kinky fanfic won’t have you cringe in any possible way. Because she makes it sounds and feels so natural. Your read it and it makes sense. Particularly this fic, has the capacity of introducing a kink at the right moment, cleverly pacing it out throughout its 6 chapters. I liked personally how this was a fiction based on the discoveries of these sexual kinks, more than the narration of such things acted out exclusively. It has psychological description of it that just adds depth to the relationship - one I never even explored once in my life. And that now I’m digging for.

If asked, what’s the one thing that got me widening my eyes and going loudly ‘yessss, girl’, is Percy ending his working day on white paper, miniature crow, flying notes, neat and precise description of what Pansy should wear the next day. Down to her knickers. If you know, you know, if you don’t, read this fanfic right away.

Lastly, this writer here not only has created this (as many others) beautiful piece of fanfic, which I absolutely worship, but has also created an artwork for it! And I find it extremely lovely! I love her style (one that reminds me, and I mean this the outmost respect for both artists, the Fernando Botero’s style) and I feel so much for her that’s she’s written her fic and drawn for it, too. Damn, girl, you rule. (Also, I had the big, massive, apocalyptic magnitude size honour of having inspired her once to write a one off for a piece of art I made and which I am shamelessly going to tag along, because why not, the artwork might be average, but the story’s chef’s kiss! ‘Off the Ground’) Darling, I should have come and praised you high and loud a long time ago - it’s just not my modus operandi of participating in the fandom. But here it is, although you also write some rare-pairs that don’t meet the same degree of visibility and notoriety, as long as it makes you happy participating in it, I’m here for it and extremely grateful for your sharing it with us.

[adamdriverwrites]

Carpe Noctem || Part 3

Plot summary: Mob boss’s daughter & bodyguard au ft. Kylo Ren. Based off this plot bunny (x)

Warnings: nothing worth mentioning. So your basic mentions of death, swearing, implications of crime.

Word count: 3888

Pairing: Kylo Ren/Reader

A/N: Here is part 3! Thank you to everyone who commented, I never knew this many people would like my story! I can’t believe the amount of people who have liked and reblogged so thank you so much xxx

Taglist:  @helloimindelaware, @dandydragonz​, @musicalcoffeebean, @driverficarchive, @hazydespair, @maybell88, @bikinibrattoms, @fanfic-fangirl, @stillreadingfantasy​, @0nevergrowoldnevergrowold0, @sarasxe, @um-well,

Masterlist here

You sat in your parked car outside the Supremacy. The facade of the building was seemingly unchanged since you had last seen it all those years ago. It was a large, two story building in a relatively nice neighborhood. Dark stone stretching almost half a block, black windows obscuring a view inside, and a neon red sign with 'The Supremacy' in a cursive font hanging over the door.

It was a long shot coming here, but you were still working up the courage to go to Mallory's apartment. You figured this was a suitable stepping stone. She had mentioned her friend in passing conversations, had apparently worked at the establishment for years. You didn't know what time she worked, day or night, and she probably wasn't even here today but you didn't want to head back home right away. And it was a long shot in which you were wiling to investigate a little further. You had to start somewhere.

There was a lone member of security outside the front doors. Black clothes, tall figure, imposing; completely  the modus operandi of your father's workers. There was no line to get in, not unsurprising given it was mid afternoon on a Friday so you straightened your leather jacket and walked up to the bald, intimidating bouncer.

His eyes looked you up and down, before quirking an eyebrow. "ID?"

You pulled your ID from your pocket, where it was nestled in between your card and your phone and handed it to him without fault. He looked it over, eyes checking the photo matched your profile before he looked back at the driver's license. His brown eyes widened profusely, and he handed it back to you.

"Sorry, Miss Snoke." He stepped the side, an arm outstretched to welcome you into the establishment your father owned. You entered a dark hallway, bass in the music traveling further, blackout curtains separated as you walked through. Your eyes were assaulted by bright, colourful lights. Dancing wildly around the room in perfect time with the music. Four elevated stages, with poles that stretched to the ceiling were placed around the room, seats arranged the stage. Tables were littered in between and a long bar was nestled against the far wall. It was slightly more busy that you thought it would be, your expectations exceeded to see a woman dancing on a stage, six men littered around her in various seats. A few more patrons sat at a table, two women talking to the group, flirting and petting the men in their suits.

You had never actually been in the Supremacy. But it was a classier joint than you extrapolated. Surfaces looked clean, and the air was fresh with a hint of perfume. Black furniture, and red silk curtains hanging from the ceiling provided some tables extravagant privacy on the wall opposite the bar. Large stairs in front of you wound up to the second floor. Another set of double doors were open, revealing a long hallway that disappeared. A glass railing on the second floor surrounded the deck, and you noticed it linked all the way around to a second floor office. The front wall of the office consisted entirely of glass, a suitable viewing precipice for whoever ran this place for your father now.

You spotted a male bartender working, polishing glasses and stocking the bar. A young man, maybe in his late twenties, blonde hair and blue eyes, black uniform t-shirt that simply had 'The Supremacy' in the same font. You walked forward, weaving through the empty tables before you stepped up to the bar. He looked up, smile painted on his previously vacant face, and put down a glass and a polishing rag.

"Welcome!" His eyes raked over your form quickly, and it felt like he was vaguely ogling you. "What's your poison?"

You gave a half assed attempt at a smile, "I'm not here for a drink."

"Hmm," he hummed in interruption, leaning forward on the bar. "A dance? A job, then?"

You bit your lip, "No-"

"I mean, you've got a great body but, darlin’, this is one of the best clubs in town. Girls are dying to dance here."  

You were sick of him interrupting you. Ogling you. You had little patience today, so you decided to tell a half-lie just to shut him up. "I know. My Father owns this place." You had no idea of the waiting list to work here, but you pretended. 

His face stilled and he leaned back slightly. You pulled your ID from your pocket once again and waved it in front of his face for good measure, then placed it back into your jacket. "I want to talk to Lacy. Is she around?"

He reeled, "Look, I didn't mean no disrespect, I had no idea-"

"I don't give a shit." You interrupted him in turn. "It's important, I just want to see Lacy. I don't know her stripper name but I know she works here."

"She's not in, she hasn't been in for a few days, I don't know her work schedule but I can get the manager? He'll know more than me."

You nodded your head. "Okay, sure."

He leaned over, leaning his hand under the bar, he pressed something and his eyes averted up to the office you had spied previously. He withdrew his hand and picked up the glass and rag once more. "He'll be down in a moment. Wait here."

You nodded, and watched as he moved down the bar slightly, back to restocking the glasses on the wall.

You gazed around, music changing as the dancer walked off the stage after collecting her money, another dancer filling her spot. The men didn't move, cigars between their lips and drinks in hand, patiently waiting to get their fill. All men looked successful, and had amber liquid swirling in their glasses. Suits adorned their bodies and shiny watches adorned their wrists. It was easy to assume this was a classy establishment, catering to more high paying clientele.

Which confused you slightly because this business had originally started as a front. It was a way for your father to launder money from his other ventures that were less than legal. Or a way to siphon a small amount anyway - he had a few legitimate businesses for this purpose now but the Supremacy had been one of the first.

Clearly, the Snoke name was still among high standards of rich and elite of New York. Your father had all sorts of friends in all sorts of places, and almost all of them owed him favors. Politicians, lawyers, moguls - clearly they all wanted to be a part of something bigger, something mysterious. The Snoke crime family.

A blur out of the corner of your eye caught your attention. At the top of the stairs you noticed a tall figure in a dark, all black suit. Pale skin, bright red hair, and a caustic confidence you could feel from basically halfway across the room.

Armitage Hux.

You didn't fight the smirk that curved your lips as your eyes locked with his. A chilling smirk mirrored his lips and he made his way down the stairs. Eyes completely focused on you.

You couldn't believe he was still alive - let alone running the fucking Supremacy. His father had been an advisor of your own. A part of a small council that ran the whole operation. Hux had been around when you were a kid, though he was closer to Ares' and Roman's age than yours.  

He had been a smarmy, confident piece of shit growing up. Like a lot of people, he was at your house often. You didn't start getting to know each other until you were a little older, around 12 or 13, before you left for boarding school. You still thought he was a cocky shit, but the two of you had something in common.

A disdain for Lyon.  

He seemed to rub a lot of people the wrong way, though you never seemed to mind him too much. But you were a good judge of character - you knew he was manipulative, cunning, cruel even. But he had always had a good head for business, and was loyal to the Snoke family and the Order. If you knew what you were expecting, then it wasn't that bad.

Hux approached the bar, green eyes piercing as he walked closer. He spoke your name with an almost unbelievable exhale. "I didn't know you were back in town."

"Well, you don't know everything."

"Ah, but I do. That's my expertise." He came to stand in front of you, looking you over before leaning against the bar nonchalantly. He looked exactly the same as you remembered, if only aged slightly, soft wrinkles around his eyes. Otherwise his hair was still perfectly gelled back, not a strand out of place, his clothes still immaculately pressed with his usual stiff and rigid posture.

"Never the less, to what do I owe the pleasure?" His eyes shifted to the bartender behind you and he flicked his finger, his attention returned to you. Pale green eyes absorbing your figure. "Tell me you're here for me." You knew you were rather heavy in the chest area, and had an ass to boot, but you weren't under the allusion you were pretty, or gorgeous by any means. In fact you felt particularly plain enough to go under the radar. Though since being home, you hadn't felt more like the opposite. You figured it was the stark growth spurt you had under gone since you were last back home. Last everyone knew - you were just a teenager. Prepubescent and awkward.

"Not quite," you huffed, "I actually just wanted to talk to Lacy." His head raised slightly, eyebrow cocked before realization dawned on his face but you spoke anyway. "She was friends with Mallory."

"Oh... yes. I'm sorry for your loss, I suppose.” You wanted to smile at his awkwardness before he sighed.  “Your father has been... never mind. You came all the way here just to talk and reminisce with a stripper?"

Again, you felt the instinctual need to lie, but resisted. "I just wanted to hear some things about Mallory's life, since I've been gone so long." It wasn't a lie, technically.

The bartender's presence interrupted your conversation, and he placed two glasses of scotch down on the bar before making himself scarce. You didn't want to drink, though now it was placed in front of you, you wanted to knock the whole thing back.

"Anything for you." An almost evil, calculating smirk curved his lips. "But first, let's catch up in my office. You owe me that much."

"I don't owe you anything."

He hummed out a laugh, signalling something you didn't know to the bartender and gestured up the stairs towards his office. It was a short walk, though his close presence felt behind you made it feel longer than it actually was. You reached his office, and he opened the double doors, allowing you inside before shutting them behind you.

It was a big area, not wide, but particularly long as it recessed into the building. Half of the office was glass, giving a perfect view to the club below. It was dark grey walls with a flourish of a red velvet couch. A desk with a few papers were scattered on it, and you noticed it was devoid of any type of computer. You guessed your father was still paranoid about any digital trails leading to evidence that could prove hurtful.

"Please, take a seat." He gestured to the red velvet seat situated opposite his desk. "It’s been a long time. What have you been up to all these years?"

You walked forward, taking a sip of your drink before collapsing into the comfortable seat, eyes watching Hux as he rounded the desk and followed suit. "Studying..." you shrugged, "working... enjoying life away from my family."

"It would appear so." Hux's eyes flashed with something, and a smirk graced his lips again. "He sent you off to boarding school, you graduated, and never came back. Clearly you were off having fun."

"Fun is for children."

"Which you are not." Again Hux looked over your form.

"You know what he's like, it’s why I didn't come back. Why are you still here?"

"I've worked hard to get where I am today, my loyalty and allegiance to the First Order and the Snoke family-"

"And look what you have to show for it; a strip club?"  You interrupted his tirade. "You've done far more than Lyon has and less to show for it. You respect nepotism?"

His nostrils flared at the mention of your brother and you knew that he was still a sore spot for Armitage. "That is but one instance. Not everyone of import in the Order is of your father's blood."

You nodded, "Phasma?"

"Ren."

It was your turn for your nostrils to flare and you quirked a brow. "My father's bodyguard?"

"That's a simplification. I wish his duties were that insignificant."

"Well they are now."

"What do you mean?"

"He's been tasked as my bodyguard while I'm here."

Hux leaned forward at this, elbows resting on his desk, his interest suddenly focused. "Is that so?"

"Why is that so interesting?" This piqued your curiosity. "What does he do for my father exactly?"

Hux seemed to choose his next words carefully. "Ren is his... fidus Achates, his saboteur, his right hand man."

You got that sense with how often he was in your father's office. He was even in his office when he had kicked Lyon out earlier. If anything that was conducive to the fact that he was more trusted than any other man you knew about in the Order. Even when you were a kid, your father didn't have any men that seemed permanently glued to the shadowy corners of the room.

"Whatever problems your father has, Ren makes them go away."

"So like his hitman?" You ask.

"More like a rabid animal." Hux spat the words, and you gathered there was a little contempt from the red headed man. "Kept on leash by only your father and let loose whenever he pleases. You thought he was ruthless before you left? Well, Ren is solving every problem with bloodshed and violence."

"Unnecessarily?" You sipped your drink, leaning back into your seat.

"No, your father points his finger, and Ren takes care of the rest... destroys everything in his path."    

Your eyebrows furrowed slightly. "If he’s so important why would my Dad assign him to me?"

This made Hux smirk. "Precisely."

You had your perceptions about Armitage, you had known him since you were young. While you didn't trust him exactly, you trusted that you knew him well enough to talk about Mallory.

"He thinks something happened to Mallory."

"I know." Hux sipped the amber liquid. "We've talked about it. While Ren handles the... messier assignments, my strength is acquiring knowledge and intel."

"And what have you found out?"

"Nothing." He didn't look like he was lying, not that you were sure what that even looked like. "Not yet, anyway. Is that why you're here?"

You sipped your drink again, if only to stall time before you answered. "I just wanted to talk to Lacy, but yes."

"And now look at you, talking to me. Isn't this so much better?"

Your mind couldn't help but wander, back to Kylo. So much mystery surrounded him, leaving you in the dark and Hux was finally providing a little light on the situation. And he seemed rather accepting to share. You made a mental note to think of some questions to ask him, hoping that he would give some truthful answers.  

About to open your mouth, you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket, and you pulled it out of your pocket to see a message from your father. And two missed calls.

Where are you? We're having an early dinner. Just family.

You withheld a sigh that wanted to escape, and you looked back to your company. "I've got to go." You threw back the rest of your whiskey and put it on his desk before standing up.

"So soon?" Hux mirrored your movements. "You just got here."

"I'll see you soon."

He grabbed a pen and paper off his desk, handing it to you. "write down your number, when Lacy comes in I'll let you know."

You wanted to question his helpfulness but decided against it. Feverishly writing down your digits and handing it back to him instead. "Thanks, Hux."

"Of course."

Leaving the Supremacy left you feeling a little defeated. Even though Hux said he would text you when Lacy was next in, it meant today had come to a standstill, stagnant in your search for information. Your next plan was to head to the penthouse, see what possessions of Mallory's was still around, however, your fathers text had brought that idea to a standstill. Maybe you could go later tonight, when everything had calmed down? Jumping back into your car, you sent a quick reply to your Dad

Just at the store getting tampons, leaving now.

You hoped he was grossed out enough by a woman’s basic bodily functions to not want to reply. Starting your car, the V8 grumbling loudly. You pulled from the curb and headed to the direction of your house.

Seeing Hux again after so many years was a refreshing change of pace. He acted the same as he did all those years ago and looked the same too, save for a few wrinkles displaying the passage of time. The two of you catching up was good, and he had divulged some impertinent information regarding your new ‘bodyguard’ that proved fruitful. You hoped next time he would be even more forthcoming.

The drive home was shorter than you expected, just less than an hour. Traffic was light, and you were pulling into the Snoke driveway before you knew it. You wished it had dragged on longer, you half preferred sitting in your car than going inside to drink and eat with your family. You hadn't shed a single tear at the funeral earlier today, and you expected the strong facade you had adapted was going to falter.

As you drove down the long winding driveway, rounding the towering willow trees either side you came into view of the house, and then the garage. The electronic door at the very end already open, you didn’t have time to be confused as a tall, dark form came into view.

Kylo.

He was standing in your spot, a cigarette dangling between his fingers as his dark eyes stared at you. His stoic form didn't move until you came forward, moving so you could park your car in the area he had occupied. You killed the engine once you parked and didn't have time to open your door before he had done it for you.

"Welcome home." You grabbed your belongings from the seat beside you and looked up at the man standing over you.  Once you were clear, he shut the drivers side door, and blocked the way to inside the house. You tried to maneuver around him but he moved to defer you.

This caused you to sigh. Your eyes darted up to meet his.

"Yes?"

"Your father’s been worried."

You rolled your eyes. "I was gone for a few hours, so that's his problem."

"And his problems become my own." He stepped forward, the small distance between you became even smaller. "If you don't want me to come with you then you at least need to tell me where you're going."

It was obvious now what he was getting at. Your little field trip to go see Hux had apparently not gone unnoticed. Or, well, to the store to get tampons if your message was to be believed. You didn't think your father was going to be enforcing the whole bodyguard thing so intensely, or so quickly. Though an idea came to mind.

"You seem like a moderately intelligent guy..." Your eyes looked over his form. "Built for brute force rather than a boring protective detail of the little old likes of me." His full, pink lips encompassed the cigarette to take a puff and it almost momentarily made you falter. His hum pulled you from your thoughts of what they could have felt like and you continued. "I have a proposition for you."

"And what would that be?"

"Surely you have more important things to deal with. Which is why, if you want to do your own thing while I do my own, that's totally understandable - in fact, its actually preferable." For the first time since you've been home you tried to plaster a welcoming smile on your face. Trying hard to seem like a demure little girl your Dad had painted you to be.

Kylo expelled a huff of breath, something akin to a laugh. Your smile faltered slightly at the thought of him laughing at you.

"Your father relies on my ability to perfectly..." he searched for the proper words, throwing his cigarette over your shoulder onto the concrete behind you. "execute whatever he asks of me."  

"And you can do that, really make a difference!" It was hard to try appear as chipper as you were. Manipulation was a hard game, and you were not a happy person. "Instead of following me to the mall, or to see my friends while I'm here, you can strive to make my Dad proud."

You weren't much of a shopper, and you had no friends here to speak of. It was a low shot, but you hoped by his assumptions on your gender and what most women liked to do, you could get away with the lie.

"Your father informed me of your shrewd capabilities." You didn't know it was possible but he walked forward another step, closing the distance between you two. You had to strain your head to look up at him. He spoke with a deep conviction that conveyed anger being tethered by a small sliver of control. "It's why he chose me for the job. I won't be swayed so easily, especially by a spoiled little princess."

Your smile faltered, and you felt your rage flourish at his words.  Suddenly, you couldn't be bothered with this shit. You would think about it later, when your mind wasn't so clouded with the thought of Mallory. "Good luck." You moved past him, looking over your shoulder as you walked into the door that led to the house, shooting him one last look. "Haven’t you heard? I’m cursed.”

He watched you walk away, exhaling the last cloud of smoke through his nostrils. The door to the garage slammed before he dug his hand deep into the pocket of his pants, pulling out a small gps tracker. Getting down on the floor, he leaned underneath your car by the rear wheel frame. Pulling off the small adhesive backing, he pressed it to the metal where it would be hidden. Flicking the switch to activate, he quickly paired the device to the app on his phone before getting up, and following suit into the Snoke manor. 

[centaurianthropology]

The Magnus Archives ‘Left Hanging’ (S04E04) Analysis

An episode about the open sky, an Archivist at loose ends, and the return of everyone’s favorite wacky old wizard.  Definitely less happening this week, but still quite a bit to think about.  Come on in to hear my thoughts about ‘Left Hanging’.

One of the interesting things about the opening of the statement is the emphasis of a theme of this show: there is nothing special about the people who get targeted by the powers, usually.  They haven’t often done something to draw attention; they aren’t some Chosen One.  They’re people at the wrong place in the wrong time. I think that feeds into the heart of the cosmic horror of the show: people are small.  Who they are and what they’ve done don’t matter to the powers. They were the nearest person to hand when ineffability strikes, and they therefore experience something horrific. Horror, therefore, is not a retributive force in TMA, nor is it an allegory for something about that person. It is random, hitting good people, bad people, and all the people in between without discrimination.  If the powers do indeed ‘make decisions’ the way that we perceive, those decisions are beyond our understanding.

So we have statements like this, of a guy why just happened to be on the wrong cable car in Austria. A cable car with everyone’s favorite wacky wizard, Simon Fairchild.  As soon as I heard ‘gentle amusement’ and using his walking stick only when he remembered to do so, combined with a cable car suspended miles above the ground? Yeah, I was certain that Simon was going to put in an appearance.

Again, they are above nothingness, and a mist appears, and Simon steps out into nothingness.  Big old wink, and then gone.  Does this mean that Simon is gone, or did he simply go somewhere temporary?  Did he finally find the Vast beings he was looking for?  After that, the rest of them shot up through the nothingness, so it’s possible that Simon actually set them up for their ride, and he was stepping off to let them enjoy themselves.  That seems more his modus operandi.

Especially since a long, spindly creature with a laugh like Mike Crews’ took the cable car driver. It makes me think that this was just another adventure that Simon engineered for hapless people he just happens to be around.  And Simon, much like the powers, will ‘gift’ these experiences to people.

Jon states that Simon is ‘evil’ and likes to torment people to feed the power that sustains him, but that seems less than clear from Simon’s actions.  I do genuinely wonder if Simon might think that he’s giving these people the experience of their lifetimes.  That this is a good thing, not a cruel thing.  That letting them experience the void will be as joyous for them as it is for him.  It’s hard to say, but he never seems … malicious in his glee.  He seems like he’s sharing a joke that everyone he harms just haven’t quite understood.

Or that could just be me, the massive Simon Fairchild fangirl that I am, reading something into the situation that isn’t there.  But I think Jon needs to believe that there is that clear distinction.  That Simon is malicious and evil, and therefore knows that he’s harming people.  Because if he doesn’t know, or even if he thinks it’s doing his victims a favor, then mightn’t Jon do the same?  After all, they’re both Avatars of their powers.  Jon knows that taking statements drags at least some part of his own victims into the nightmare realm of the Beholding.  But he keeps doing it.  At least he doesn’t think he’s helping the people he’s gathering statements from; at least not yet.

But of course, his objection to Compelling Basira was that he didn’t want to burn a bridge, not that it would be the wrong thing to do or hurt a friend, so that’s less than encouraging.

The ending with Martin also really fit into the title of this particular one.  Whatever is happening with Martin, he either won’t or can’t tell Jon about it.  He sounds so distant, barely more engaged with Jon than Basira was.  And for someone weeping in the trailer before making his decision, that’s worrisome.

It’s interesting that Martin implied strongly that he wasn’t working for Peter Lukas (although calling him ‘Peter’ probably didn’t do anything to help Jon’s jealousy).  There’s clearly something going on.  Martin’s been so busy that he has no time to write poetry, or to stop and really talk with Jon.  Maybe he’s afraid.  Maybe he’s been forbidden from really talking to Jon.

I definitely think that what’s happening with Martin and what Basira is up to are going to be ongoing themes, perhaps even the main plot points of the first half of the season. It’s frustrating, because they all know that Peter works for the Lonely, and therefore is trying to isolate everyone in the Institute.  And yet none of them, even those who seem to not be locked into some secret agreement, are going out of their way to stay in touch.  Maybe Basira and Melanie have been sticking together, but from the way that Basira talked about Melanie, that seems less likely.  Unless, of course, she doesn’t trust Jon enough to let him know what she and Melanie are up to.

But it leaves Jon exactly where the Lonely wants him.  He’s isolated, reading statements and doing little else.  With the threat of other powers trying to make a move against the newly-awakened Archivist, I doubt he’s leaving much either.  Martin would be the ideal person for him to turn to, given their history, but Martin has somehow been removed from the equation while still being there.

And interestingly, Jon didn’t compel him.  Of all the times when compelling a friend might be both justified and useful to all parties, this might be it, but Jon is handling his friends with kid gloves. Likely, Melanie’s state and her open hostility have taken him aback, and he doesn’t want to make things any worse with Martin or Basira.  So they’re all in a holding pattern (without the holding).

I want to know why Basira no longer trusts Jon at all.  Is it simply thinking he couldn’t have come back right after six months?  Is it blaming him for Daisy?  Is she just too troubled by whatever’s really going on with her to look too far outside herself?

Conclusions

The emotional situation in the Archives never seems to be anything better than tenuous, and as I said often enough through the past few seasons, this current state can’t stay for long.  There are too many threads about to snap.  Basira feels like the calm before the storm.  Melanie is going to explode in one direction or another, it’s just a question of what’s in her way when she does.  And Martin is keeping secrets.  A lot of secrets, likely because he believes it’s the only way to help Jon and the others.  And if he’s not working for Peter Lukas, I have to wonder what it is he’s doing.  It’s clearly with Peter, but perhaps it’s more of a loan or secondment?  A pledge of time in Peter’s service in exchange for the protection that the archives is now afforded?  Or is Martin more active than we realize?  Does he have a plan of his own?

We’ve been with Jon while he was plotting and planning throughout the show, so it’s interesting to see Jon on the other side of this impenetrable wall that six months of trauma has produced.  He can’t even pick up the pieces, because the pieces are nowhere near where he left them. Everyone has radically changed toward him.

As big a dick as Elias was, I may hate the Lonely more.  With Elias, we knew what he was about.  He wanted Jon to be the ultimate Archivist, and he wanted the Watcher’s Crown to proceed as planned.  But the Lonely’s motives are inscrutable, and without more information, Jon’s stuck. He needs to dig into the Archives, to try and find stories about the Lukases or their patrons and how he might oust the Lonely from the Institute.  

He already sounds defeated. He’s not interested in looking into this current story beyond a cursory glance.  He’s not interested in putting all the pieces together, which to my mind is the ultimate point of the Archivist.  He just reads and feeds his god by rote, without anything more.

Maybe that’s Peter’s plan. Immobilize Jon, remove all his supports and sink him so far into depression that he reads the statements and doesn’t try to research his way out of the problem.  That sort of inert feeding of the Beholding might actually be the most effective way to prevent the Watcher’s Crown, at least for a time.

But like I said, the situation is tenuous.  Something, sooner or later, is going to give.

[fantroll-purgatory]

World: Alternia

Name: Eunoma Lesedi

(The Greek goddess of law and legislation, name translates to good order/governance according to good laws + the word for light in South African)

Age: 9.5 sweeps

Theme/Story: Law/Politics/Mutation? I think I just thought it was a cool idea for a mutation and liked the backstory I came up with for her

She is a rare fuchsia with an even rarer mutation, which would under normal circumstances entitle her to a culling. That is had she not been taken pity on by her mother. She had no idea why she showed her such kindness. It was probably a combination of the similarity of her look to that of the rainbow drinker and the opportunity for the mother to insure a proper ruler was raised for a change. She was raised in the caverns by her jade guardian with other jades acting as sisters but now that she is old enough to take care of herself she has been sent off to live in an old abandoned desert hive which long ago belonged to a jadeblood who raised a virgin mother grub like Kanaya. It is deep enough in that sandy deathtrap that she doesn’t have to worry about anyone finding her. It gets pretty lonely and she misses her mom and sisters but it also allows her to focus on her work and studies. (There is A L  O T going on in this backstory, but I think it’s kind of workable? I think there needs to be considerable intent in why she was saved, however. This isn’t the kind of thing a Jade (especially not many of them) would do lightly. Eunoma might not learn why yet, but there has to be a motivation, a goal they’re trying to achieve. Perhaps the Fuschia blood is part of it? Maybe they’re some Jades who wanna stage a full on rebellion and want to use her as a figurehead? An albino Fuschia taking down the Condesce would be a potent political symbol.)

Goals: One of my ancient OCs I wanted to fix up but turns out I need some help! So a general overview/everything (Alright, here we go!) (As a heads up, I took pity on you and am not deleting the other trolls you submitted in rapid succession, but for future reference- please don’t do that.)

Strife Specibus: 3dentkind

(Uses a trident she made herself with the help of her mother) (I’m really getting “Raised to be a political symbol” out of this. Why would she be raised to be just like an Heiress if there wasn’t a purpose behind it? Logically she’d otherwise be raised to be more Jade than anything.)

Fetch Modus: Idk honestly

Blood Color: Fuchsia

Symbol and Meaning: Pira, Sing of the Visionary

Handle: luminousJurist

Quirk: Ta|k in a ca|m yet cønfident vøice. (Proper punctuation, replaces L with | and O with ø) (Like this. Simple is often the way to go.)

Special Abilities: Her mutation, which would best be described as form of albinism that mimics rainbow drinker looks and abilities (meaning she can stay out in the sun) (hmmmmHMMMM I am unsure how exactly this would work- Kanaya could just go out in the sun before she was a Rainbowdrinker. I guess you can just handwave it as “unlocking dormant parts of the Fuschia genome” or something. Trolls have a tenuous link to biology as it is.)

Lusus/Guardian: Raised by a jadeblood in the caverns with other jades acting as her sisters before she left, mainly because she was always presented as a mutant jadeblood (which is also why she is hiding her sign, wearing it as a necklace under her shirt) by her mother in order to have her be more accepted (My main gripe with this is that it’s very unlikely, unless she never really interacted with the other Jades, that they wouldn’t know she’s not a Jade. Troll tears are tinted, and wrigglers are highly pigmented. Also all it would take is a slight cut and the jig is up. I think you’ve got to make them more complicit in the hiding and raising if this backstory is gonna come off as plausible.)

Interests: The crime, mystery and legal drama genres, whether it be books, movies, shows or games. She is also fascinated by law and the legal system and she loves studying about it, writing reforms and planning how to bring justice and order into Alternia when she claims the throne. Calligraphy is also something she finds fun to do while brainstorming. Her only non work related hobby is collecting plushies. (I like this a lot. I bet she reads about Redglare and gets mad all the time. Maybe she’s a big Summoner fangirl? He was a mutant who raised a rebellion against the culling system.) (I’d ordinarily recommend having more hobbies that aren’t “work” related, but given your character’s history, it makes a lot more sense for her to be fixated on it, even if she doesn’t realize that quite yet.)

Personality: Eunoma is obsessed over making the right decision and being a fair and just ruler. She has first hand seen and felt the cruelty of Alternia and while she is honest to a fault and rather blunt, she does this not to hurt feelings but because she feels it is the right thing to do. She is pushing herself into indifference and molding herself into the perfect middle man, erasing any opinion which might sway her judgement. Still she is disciplined and harsh, mainly on herself but also others, a strict believer in following rules to the letter and always scrutinizing her own actions. She thinks she can always do better, a perfectionist to whom nothing will probably ever be enough. She is uptight and antisocial, awful at working and even just talking with other trolls, as social cues tend to go over her head and even her own emotions very much confuse her, not to mention those of others. But on the other hand lies and motivations are something she understands and sees through all too well. She is good at predicting what people will do and spotting a liar or faker from a mile away. (We got a Mind player here! I’ll talk more about this later but you’ve got a solid character written in here. But I think you’ve got something mixed up in here: You open saying that she’s opinionated and blunt, but latter say she’s indifferent and grey-aligned?) (I think you meant “impartial” as in, “having no bias”, though. Which would make a lot more sense. Obsessed with being equal- having a character flaw of not quite getting the difference between Equal and Fair would help flesh her out, especially given that she’s right at the age where she’d be viscerally learning that difference.) (I think “follows the rules to the letter” is a little... odd? For someone who’s only course of action on the current law system would be to die messily. I think her having her own code of ethics that she strictly follows would be much better (especially with her classpect) than being a blind rules follower. She’s a path-maker, not a path-walker!)

Lunar Sway: Prospit (I think an interest in that “genetic destiny” thing that Trolls love would do her some good with this. Get her a little more going with the flow, taking threads of the past and weaving them into changes today. Seeing herself a bit in The Sufferer and The Summoner and other ancient rebellions would do her a lot of good, I think. Give her some motivation.)

Title: Mage of Mind

(She suffers form being an overly logical outcast and needs to learn to not only let loose but also let people in, she is way too defensive from having to hide her whole life and needs to learn to open up and allow herself to feel emotions) (I do think Mage is the way to go with her. The Active Knower, the Leader and Shepherd as opposed to Seer, the Teller and Teacher. She’s someone who NEEDS to get up on her soapbox and tell the world that this isn’t how it has to be, that we can make other choices, and she’s making those choices right now.) (Pathwise, I think she needs a bit more spirit of her own. Her Dolorosa-stand in needs a firmer hand in her development if she is to grow as well. There needs to be an interplay of “I know you THINK you know what’s right, Mother, but I KNOW what needs to be done, and I’m going to DO IT my way” by the end of her arc.)

Land: Land of Forums and Debate

(The Denizen has devided the people of her land and pinned them against each other. With corrupt politicians, censorship and high tension in the air, this whole place is one wrong word away from a civil war. It is her job to fix the corrupt system, unify the people of the land again and open up constructive discussion.) (She’s gotta win the arguments and lead the people! A pale girl in a world of fountains and marble! It’s pretty classic, but it fits her development as already-being-half-there on her Classpect, but needing the extra push to really do it.) (This was a much easier review than I expected, my comments are mostly for guiding this vision of her to completion as opposed to full overhauls. You’re most of the way there!) -SA

[kuriquinn]

I watched a youtube vid about mary sues. They can be spotted by how the universe bends for them/revolves around them and how all the characters glorify, befriend, and praise them. I can't help but think that Boruto's a gary stu. Toneri, Momoshiki, Sasuke, Kakashi, almost all the characters praise him. Kakashi and Sasuke tries to nurture his skills despite their powers are more compatible with sarada's. Boruto has no rival. The girls are his w/o competition. Mitsuki's a fangirl too, not a rival.

Boruto is the definition of a Gary Stu. If you looked up the definition in the dictionary, his picture would be right there beside Wesley Crusher.

No other character in the anime is able to develop, because it’s all about how awesome Boruto is. It’s pissing me off, because when Gaiden was released, I saw A LOT of potential for him as a character. I really wanted to see him not only dealing with being son of the Hokage, but the politics of the Hyuuga. I wanted to see him deal with different challenges than his father did, and I wanted to see his relationships with all of Naruto and Hinata’s old friends/teachers...not just random references of him calling them “old man Kakashi” or “big brother konohamaru”.

The problem with Boruto is he doesn’t have a purpose.

Naruto did: be acknowledged by people and one day become Hokage. And he was a good kid that drew people in to him. I mean, he drove me nuts and half the time I wanted to smack him, but it’s a fond exasperation. It’s the same feeling I have with my troublemaker students that I get mad at in class for putzing around, but secretly, they’re my favourites.

Boruto is a non character to me. He’s one dimensional, the writers keeps changing his modus operandi to suit the episode/manga chapter he’s in, and I don’t see any greater plot point to him. Even having seen the movie, given the fact he intends to be like Sasuke and serve from the shadows, I would be much more interested in watching an anime about Sarada’s rise to power as the first Uchiha Hokage because all the politics, relationships, emotional and character growth that exist there.

There is nothing to look forward to in the future for Boruto, at least not in the canon series. I only hope that the fanfiction writers who contribute to the fandom can come up with something better, because honestly, the fans deserve better.

[fantroll-purgatory]

Itcha gal back from like August with Trinel’s kismesis’s moirail

Name: Tabula Auctor- Both are Latin for something to do with writing, but I can’t remember exactly what.

Tabula usually means tablet/table, and is most Famously known in the phrase Tabula Rasa, or Blank Slate, which has some interesting implications. 

Auctor is latin for Author or Originator, but in science it’s also the term used to describe the genetic donator for a clone. 

Since you gave her Two-writing based names, and these very interesting and multi-meaning ones particularly, I might gently try to pull in that themeing in her personality/interests/backstory, etc. 

For the Auctor name most directly, something interesting could be… Maybe Tabula’s ancestor was as interested in Descendants as Auctor is interested in Ancestors, and maybe… Tabula is a slightly more direct clone of her ancestor than ectobiology would Usually do. A Weird and major glitch in the system, maybe not a Direct copy but something very, very close to it.  

Age: 7.5

Strife Specibus: Staffkind- Taller than she is and with a box-thing on the end for looping around necks and stalig-whatevers.

I’m kind of tempted to say pickax instead, the double-sided kind. It’s a tool that… common enough in archaeological circles, as long as you’re careful with it, and it’s double-headed. You could also use it to hook around someone like one might with a scythe, given the head of the ax is big enough. 

Fetch Modus: Dig modus- Basically, a jumble of cards she had to sift through.

Ooo, you could make it more explicit and make it one of those dig kits. 

But instead of shells it’s her items and if she digs too hastily, she might break them.

Blood color: Cusp- Between gold and bronze.

I know you probably already know this, but I’ve got to acknowledge anyways that this is noncanon. But I’m gonna let you keep it anyways because I imagine that’s what you’re Goin’ For and I think her being in a weird blood place makes the direct cloning even more fun. 

Symbol and meaning: A tall rectangle with a line through- I tried to make it a light mix of bronze and gold signs.

I’ll take another look at the sign when we get to design, so we’ll see!

Trolltag: guardedTraveler

I kinda wanna recommend ancestralSapience, if her interest in ancestors is such an important part of her theme it makes sense to make a reference to it in her trolltag. Sapience is the ability to self-reflect and act with self-wisdom, or in response to learned information. 

Quirk: tHe quick browN fox…

You don’t explain why this, but it is good. I think since she’s somewhat fixated on the past, you could also have her have a quirk of going back to previous messages or repeating previous messages and saying things like “as per my last message […]” a lot.

Special Abilities (if any): Used to have psionics, but lost them when voidrot knocked out her psionic eye

We definitely still haven’t seen for sure Exactly how voidrot works or if it can only infect void players, so keep in mind that going forward this could be revealed to be very noncanon. I think it’s interesting if it was happening to her because she really technically is a glitch in the system and the universe is struggling to cope with her, though. 

Lusus: Cyedog; small fox-thing with one eye and wings.

We don’t really see Traditionally Winged creatures until we get up to like teal (there’s only really buggy wings until that point), and her theme isn’t really Flighty enough for me to say wings would be a necessary addition anyways. 

What if we go instead with like… a two-headed sheep? As a Dolly The Sheep jokey, it references the dual themes of the golds And the farmy themes common in brownbloods, too. 

Personality: Big block of text I pulled off my mastodon and slightly edited;

she’s a huge ancestor fangirl and probably the only troll who actively hunts in caves for old scrolls and shit. she’s 4'11, 7.5 sweeps, and has a heavy faygo drinking problem- in fact, it’s gotten bad enough that the soda barely affects her at all, like the radioactiveness in a banana. her moirail, vittah, is a vriskablood that does ribbon dancing and, when she gets to visit, tries to crack on tabby’s habits but yknow. also- tabs hates the theater. vittah’s kismesis won’t shut the fuck up about it- he’s a famous playwrite. She does genuinely care for vittah, and is one of the only trolls that acts normally around her. (May or may not submit Vittah sometime, tbh.)

So I love this ancestor thing enough that I brought it in more in like, her theme conception. I like the idea of her feeling Really, like Weirdly connected to her ancestor, as much as though she really could be a reincarnation of her, and she could have like… a bit of identity struggle. She really doesn’t know who she is because she feels this weird displacement and is trying to build some sense of self By reading about the ancestors. And since you gave her a writer name, maybe she could write a lot about history. And maybe even some Guilty Pleasure Self Insert Historical Fanfiction. 

You could probably give her a fixation on the classics, too. She likes old stuff, original stuff. She doesn’t like rehashes. It could be part of why she doesn’t like theater (on top of her finding Trinel annoying)- it’s all just remixes of the Clearly Superior Old Stuff.

Interests: Archaeology and the ancestors, mostly.

And faygo it would seem LOL. 

Title: Seer of space..?

I honestly think maybe Heir of Space, if only because that makes her inverse Mage of Time and implies an understanding Of time, which comes with her natural interest in and fixation on history. Her trying to passively shape and change space to match up with that form she’s built from a defunct past can cause a lot of problems until she comes to understand the current time and comes into herself!

Land: Land of Ocean and Frogs- (She lives in a desert so no water normally, and frogs is obvious.)

How about the Land of Idols and Frogs instead, a land where there’s like idealistic idolized versions of the frogs and she has to Realize that they’re not the ideal form and she can’t blindly chase the past in order to succeed at her quest and breed the correct frog.

Dream Planet: Prospit.

My Ipad is mean, so here’s the link to an image. Its kinda old though

Design: 

Just as before I really don’t think there’s much for me to say about or change in your character design! I think something you should keep in mind if you ever design the ancestor is that she should try to look like her ancestor or at least mimic her ancestor’s silhouette. The symbol could also use a little editing to fit both the brown and gold sign language… 

I wanted to keep the cut square design you wanted, but I also wanted to incorporate Taurga and Gemge, plus the Symmetry of the usual brown and gold signs. 

Thank you for sharing and I hope this helps!

-CD