#i'm feral and foaming a the mouth a little when it comes to these characters

[elialys]

if i ever stop talking about how writing my tess & ellie scenes is making me over emotional, it means i've been replaced by a shapeshifter

[kuwdora]

Star Wars audiobooks! I've been restless for new Star Wars since Andor ended. Been going through a handful of Disney era and Legends novels over the last few months. I have enough reactions to get down into an actual post. Mostly I'm just going to be foaming at the mouth over Marc Thompson and Sam Witwer's narration and falling over myself about the characters. I have listened to: Dark Disciple, Last Shot, Disney Thrawn trilogy, Heir to the Empire, Darth Maul: Shadow Hunter. Lots of these books I liked, some of them I didn't but the narration and characters are still amazing. Motherfucking MARA JADE. Asajj Ventress!!!!!!!! I have no rational mind about Maul and I am one of those feral stick figures chewing on Thrawn. Hnnghh.

First of all, let me start with Marc Thompson. He's been doing the audiobooks for years and years now. Here’s a great intro where he’s talking about the differences of doing character voices and learning the importance of bringing the right dynamic to the prose. He slips so seamlessly into his Star Wars voices reel, ahaha.

Here is a really cute Lip Sync Battle where Marc Thompson will say a line and then have a fan lip sync the same line back at the camera. His energy, his energy I love it so much. Everyone is having SO MUCH FUN. There’s also a cameo by Star Wars author Christie Golden in this video. Super cute.

First book:

Dark Disciple - Christie Golden Narrated by Marc Thompson

Alright I actually had picked this up ages go from my library and never read it but since I’ve been on an audiobook kick, Marc Thompson got me goin’ with alllll his voices.

I love Asajj Ventress so I was pretty much guaranteed to enjoy something from this book. Apparently it was written based on some unfinished scripts for an arc that would have happened if the show didn’t get cancelled. Knowing this makes a lot more sense with regards to the pacing and I think I would have preferred the animated episodic for this since I think a lot of the early Quinlan and Asajj stuff dragged a little too much. However I did appreciate getting more of a deeper dive in Asajj’s head and it really made me want to go digging through AO3 for some amazing character studies that I know must exist at this point.

But yeah, I didn’t think I’d enjoy the eventual romance between Asajj and Quinlan but Quinlan was such a perfect set-up for a fall from the Jedi Order. I think I’m just really easy when it comes to whumping the fuck out of Jedi with torture and their own emotional repression.

I was really into all the Dathomir scenes and the history of Asajj with her sisters being touched upon again and how she managed to not “go crazy from the dark side” because of the balance she found because she was a Nightsister.

A++ for Asajj having to go to Boba fucking Fett to mount a rescue mission inside a fake heist.

Really I think I’m just so easy for murdery women with a rage boner. Fuck Dooku.

Marc Thompson’s narration was a delight and I definitely would recommend this for anyone who enjoyed The Clone Wars series and wanted to get a little more Asajj screen time. Here’s a scene where someone pulled Clone Wars clips and put Dark Disciple audio underneath. Marc Thompson bringing incredible Dooku subservience and Sidious danger, hhhngh.

7/10, would listen to again even though I'd rather see the finished episodes.

Last Shot (A Han and Lando Novel) - Daniel Jose Older Narrated by Marc Thompson, Daniel Jose Older and January LaVoy

This book was extremely disappointing. Normally I am a fan of seeing fan-favorites have their mid-life crises but I was extremely bored and over with Older’s take on Han having an existential crisis of who he was as a father an husband in this post-Empire world. Lando on the other hand, was having a crisis of genuinely having fallen in love and not knowing how to handle that. I fucking loved that.

This book had multiple timelines and jumped around a lot and I don’t know if I just wasn’t focused enough while listening but the timeline jumps were jarring and incomprehensible at times. The action plot ended up being rather unsatisfying.

It was also very jarring to have three narrators for the different timelines and I kind of feel bad because I went and looked and Older’s narration is just consistently getting panned across all reviewers—and for good reason. Thompson and LaVoy are experienced voice actors and with Older in the middle, Older just seems slapdash in his reading. If it was just Older all the way through I might have been more forgiving but going back and forth with everyone… it really was painful at times.

It was a slog to get through this book, really. What I actually really enjoyed was all the original characters: an Ewok slicer, a nonbinary hot shot pilot, and Lando’s love of his life whose name is slipping my mind even now, agh. I wasn’t fan of the villain character, unfortunately, and it was a bit of a letdown that the action plot was just… I don’t know, boring. It was a riff on transhumanism except with droids and a bit of droid supremacy to it and I was just... tired by it.

Marc Thompson was KILLING it tho. His performances always fucking delight me. January LaVoy’s narration of Lando and L-3 were also really great even though I just wasn’t into the scenes themselves.

3/10 - do not recommend, HOWEVER I would read fic about the lady ewok hacker Peekpa.

Darth Maul: Shadow hunter By Michael Reeves Narrated by SAM WITWER

I am, as the fannish parlance goes, Not Normal about Maul or Sam Witwer's performance as Maul.

This novel takes place just before the events of The Phantom Menace and it’s a Star Wars story that is very, very narrow in scope. The stakes are still very high because someone has gained information about the Trade Federation’s impending blockade and Sidious sends Maul to go and take care of it. The whole story takes place in the underbelly of Coruscant and I gotta say, it’s really refreshing after going through a bunch of Star Wars shows, books and films where it’s all galactic hopping whirlwind stuff to have that's in one place and happening in a short amount of time. I think it's something like 2 or 3 days that all the events happen.

Michael Reeves is a man of deep characterization and creates an amazing sense of place in the Black Sun alley of Corusant. We get very little Sidious and Maul interaction but what bits we do get are fascinating and haunting. I do like the ‘less is more’ approach here with these two...although I will say I’m not sure I would have picked up this book if I hadn’t gone through The Clone Wars and lost my goddamn mind over Sam Witwer’s portrayal of Maul.

And his performance here. In this book. I don’t know what it is about Witwer but when he does Maul my brain just lights up in a way that I haven’t really gotten outside of live theater performances. He brings this sense of ruthlessness and competence to Maul, his gleeful rage and oscillating mania as he ends up tracking an information broker and Jedi Padawan. Oh, Witwer is truly just. Fucking amazing, okay.

I would love this book even if it wasn’t Witwer narrating it but my god he elevates it to a whole new level. I got my copy from the library but it is immediately on my to-buy list once I can buy books again.

Michael Reeves also wrote for Batman the Animated series and Gargoyles which makes a whole lot of sense in the way he’s able to just create such lush sensory detail of place and people, oh holy fuck. He’s the writer who wrote the Gargoyles episode about Broadway accidentally shooting Elisa with her gun (this is an episode that got pulled from airing and I don’t think they have on Disney+ right now). Aw man, alright I definitely need to read more of his stuff now.

The action plot is Lorn Pavan is a down-on-his-luck fellow who got information he shouldn’t have and he is trying to sell it, Darsha the Jedi Padawan gets sent down to bring in a Black Sun informant and things go tits up for her in horrible ways. Darsha and Lorn’s paths collide and they try to survive Maul. I love everything about these characters, except for the end where Lorn started having romantic feelings about the Padawan. Blech.

Also somehow I think I-5 is now my second favorite droid character I’ve come across in the greater Star Wars canon (Chopper will always be my #1 grumpy cat droid). Witwer has the best dry delivery for the droid character. Like. It’s so fucking GOOD.

I’m also impossibly impressed and obsessed with Witwer’s performance of Sidious and the Jedi Council. His Qui-Gon is SO FUCKING GOOD. His Palaptine has my teeth rattling in my head oh my god.

Here’s the first 5 or so minutes of Shadow Hunter, hhnngh. You get Maul, Sidious a drunk Lorn Pavan, and my new droid bestie I-5:

I am 100% going to be reading Michael Reeves’ other Star Wars novels. Apparently he has a series that follows a Jedi-in-hiding post-Order 66 and I want to just dunk my head in all the Star Wars noir, I guess, yes please.

10/10 - I love, would heartily recommend to anyone wanting a kind of story that’s more heavy on character and setting and also SAM WITWER!!!!!!!!! Maul. Hnnghghghgh.

TIMOTHY ZAHN TIME.

Thrawn Trilogy (Disney era) Thrawn, Thrawn Alliances, Thrawn Treason Narrated by Marc Thompson

This was my second time through the Disney novels. I watched Star Wars Rebels first, then my friend jb_slasher told me about Thrawn having novels. I had vaguely heard of Heir to the Empire over the years and also my friend recommended the Disney trilogy so I figured I’d start with that since I was diving off from Disney canon anyway.

My god I love this trilogy so fuckin’ much. Marc Thompson out here nailing it. This Thrawn is the type of character who is always the smartest person in the room and I should get irritated by that like all the other characters but mmmm, I have a competence kink. And I am just over the moon with how he instills loyally and allegiance in his crew who can now have a commander who is not interested in politicking his way through things but actually is committed to strategy and whatnot.

Also fucking Zahn made Thrawn go back to space college. And gave him a little protege who he grew to admire. Eli Vanto is a great character, I am reading a lot of slash about them obviously but yeah, I loved seeing his growth throughout the trilogy. And THRAWN ALLIANCE. Y’all. Y’all. The Star Wars memes about Thrawn and Darth Vader and Anakin Skywalker are AMAZING and really do the hilarity so much justice. Here's a fantastic book trailer cut together with Marc Thompson' narration, hnngh.

This man absolutely knows who Darth Vader is and Darth Vader is like “oh fuck no you don’t.” And when Thrawn had met Anakin during the Clone Wars and Anakin had to try and work together with him? Perfection. Bonus Padme getting to be a ridiculous and foolish badass when she goes looking for trouble. And also her also having a competence kink for Thrawn, too. It cracks me the fuck uuuuuup, okay.

Thrawn absolutely hates politics so fucking much and I love to see how that is the primary way he gets thwarted or has to build his strategy around. Because people are fucking assholes and political everywhere. Seriously, have I mentioned how much I love Marc Thompson??

Thrawn Treason gave us more of Thrawn’s people and whatnot with the Chiss which I also liked but I’m really less interested in their motivations and experiences as a culture on the edge of the Empire. More here for Vanto now getting to be the fish-out-of-water and leveling up and getting all the respect he deserves.

MARC THOMPSON, y’all. He does a great Thrawn, an AMAZING whinybaby sycophant Ronan of the Starkiller Project, and his Eli Vanto Space Yokel intonation is 💋. Also I feel like the loyalty and trust that Thrawn earns from his subordinates really feeds into this praise kink thing that everyone develops by being around him. I love it.

10/10 will lose my mind and listen/read this trilogy again and also read all the fanfic about it.

Heir to the Empire Timothy Zahn

I am sorry it took me 30 years to get here but I AM NOW HERE FOR MARA JADE’S RAGE BONER. Let me repeat: MARA. JADE. !!!!!!!!!

Also holy fuck. Luke Skywalker getting to be smart, technically creative and able to navigate through terrible situations in spite of a Force-Blocking Macguffin is AMAZING. I was not expecting to be this into a post-Empire Luke but I really fucking loved it.

I also love all of the Han and Lando scenes in this (WAY MORE than Last Shot, sorry Daniel Jose Older).

Leia and Chewie!! On Kashyyk!! Talon Karrde was so great (Thompson made him kind of sound like Antonio Banderas??)

Thrawn and his bestie Pelleaon! What a fascinating dynamic.

I actually was not very into Thrawn’s vibes in this book as much as I was in the Disney stuff. I don’t know if it’s because of the vibes they wrote him in Star Wars rebels that got filtered back into Zahn’s take on him for the books (or if it was the other way around?) - Like, the calculating tactical and man of strategy is still there, but… hm, I’ve been struggling to articulate what about it that didn’t tickle me as much. He’s still playing the long game in every situation but I don’t know… I think there’s this more pragmatic view of people he has in the Disney books that he doesn’t get here in the first of this trilogy. I haven’t gotten to the other two books from this series yet so maybe I’ll feel differently later. The anniversary edition of the audiobook that I got from my library was narrated by Marc Thompson and he (you'll be so surprised) fucking nailed it all for me. Love love love.

10/10 timothy zahn, I love you. You got an amazing way of writing action. I gotta read more of your stuff. Anyway, I'm also starting the Ahsoka novella that I think (??) is not quite canon anymore since they got a final season for Clone Wars, but it's by E.K. Johnston and narrated by Ahoska's voice actor Ashley Eckstein. Don't have enough thoughts about it yet but I love Ahsoka so I'm sure I'll have a decent time.

[azucar-skull]

I am foaming at the mouth I need to rant about something in Feral Casey AU.

Okay so Usagi and Hana.

Usagi and Hana are the Henry and Sam of FCAU. Quite literally if you have seen TLOU HBO series. This wasn't my intention though.

I know I wanted one of the main cast to be deaf, a challenge to better myself in representation. And originally, I chose Usagi.

It was gonna be so cute. Usagi getting caught in an explosion to save Hana and then the two end up needing to rely on each other. Usagi needed her ears, and Hana needed his protection and guidance.

Then Leo and Usagi would be the ultimate disabled couple with Leo being an amputee. And they would be so fucking cute together and AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA--

But there was a problem.

Hana didn't have a personality.

At the time, her only personality trait was that she was dependent on Usagi and then ultimately became a rude character that I didn't want her to be. I tried to twist it as her overcoming ableism but nothing worked out.

After much debate, I made Hana the deaf character to fix her personality.

I'm not saying being deaf is a personality trait. But Hana being deaf brought out a better personality within her.

Now I have a little girl who becomes deaf in the crossfire of an explosion and her personality takes a turn. She is scared, she is lost, and she needs Usagi to be her shield. Once they finally find the Resistance and Casey Jr taught her sign language, she became more independent.

Because she had hearing beforehand, she knows of a life where sound meant something to her. And she wants it back more than anything. She gets cochlear implants and wears them all the time. Usagi is happy for her.

But then things come up. Noises became too much, she starts getting headaches, the implants become uncomfortable since she wears them ALL DAY.

She refuses to put them on one day and this is Usagi and Hana’s first fight of many.

Now, don't get me wrong, Usagi wants to be a good brother. Truly. But he doesn't understand Hana’s situation. He just assumes at first.

In this fight, Usagi and Hana go back and forth about needing the implants until Hana manages to sign why she hates them. Usagi negotiates a compromise, asking her to wear them when they are outside. The outside contains Kraang and gunfire and other things that you need to listen out for. Hana agrees.

But then things get worse.

Her hearing becomes more and more damaged and the implants needed to get upgraded again and again. She still finds them uncomfortable to wear, still gets headaches when she wears them, voices become harder to understand, and implants are very hard to come by in the apocalypse.

So one day, when she and the others are meant to be going out, she refused to wear them. Usagi and Hana fight again.

Usagi wants to keep her safe, you know? He means well. But Hana was just not having it. Her anger bubbles over as she aggressively signs her thoughts until her hands stopped making sense.

And then all she could do was scream.

Then she broke down crying.

The siblings never fought again after that. Usagi finally breaks out of his audism mindset and learns to support Hana’s choices no matter what.

We get to watch a character go from a scared, shy, dependant child turn into a stubborn-headed, strong, independent girl through the journey of accepting Deafness. This is a journey I have been building since the idea for FCAU started and I am grateful to have the support of my ASL professor (who is Deaf) who caught me drawing sketches of Hana and became invested in helping me.

And there is a reason why Usagi is so keen on his ways but I don't wanna spoil it yet. TLDR, it has to do with depression and shit. It's a whole thing that we'll get into later.

BUT THAT'S NOT ALL.

Without spoiling too much, there's going to be a particular episode about 1/4 way through the story involving Usagi and Hana’s relationship and uhh let's just say it'll make you cry.

Usagi proves himself as the loving brother that will do anything for his sister and puts her above all else.

As Hana faces a great fear that she is no longer afraid off because she knows she can handle it and knows who got her back.

Okay rant over, I am satisfied. I'm going to bed.

[asfearlessasamango]

here i ammmmm i hope this isnt the longest ask ever lol but i cannot overstate how GORGEOUS i find your prose. the phrase “tiredness curls up in each joint like old cats in old corners” is so absolutely evocative and paints such a melancholic, beautiful, rich picture in my mind every time i remember it. i could actually get it tattooed thats how seriously beautiful i find it. most of all i loooooooove the amount of social norms, architectural details, cultural differences etc etc you infused in the story to fill in the gaps of the canon universe. the choice of using of rice paper vs. glass and all the reasoning behind it is the example that comes to mind, but im sure that if i knew more about east asian cultures, i could identify more and more details you scattered throughout the plot to turn this make believe world into a truthful parallel of the real one we have. i can only say bravo. and if you have any recommended reading for homework, i’d love to know more about these references! now back to your writing! one of thee strongest points of the story, for me, is how believable these characters are as people. they feel so fully fleshed out that sometimes it was like intruding on someone’s most private thoughts - even a little painful to keep going, and i mean that in the best way possible! i especially loved the subtle addition of zuko’s ingrained sexism and prejudice against other nations, things that ofc he’s never had reason to unlearn in this universe. he is compassionate, but can be very unkind - seems like a delicate balance, but in your story, it just flows naturally. you inhabit their heads, strengths, flaws and life experiences so well, like sokka’s blind defensiveness when he thinks of himself as helpless, his brashness and ingenuity when he sees zuko more as a puzzle to solve than a person. that goes even people who haven't gotten that much plot attention yet - like azula wearing blue lipstick (!!!!) foaming at the mouth from the thought. OFC she would!!! shes bold, shes confident and shes here to shine + now she allows herself to have fun! do “ugly” and “imperfect” things for fun! and all the parallels between this redeemed azula and the canon zuko we know. your oc who is zuko's guardian, who he calls grandma, hasn't even shown up yet and i already love and miss her. uncle iroh!!!! zuko assuming malice from uncle iroh who only wants the best for him - but ofc he doesnt know that! but we do, and it hurtssss katara and aang!!! the bath scene with aang, zuko’s forced vulnerability, their honesty, aang’s absolute grace towards zuko. suki and the kyoshi warriors! i trust they will get their turn to kick some ignorant prince ass. and the thing that draws me the most to this genre: the exploration of trauma in its aftermath. your storytelling is wonderfully brutal here. like… you draw a white picture by filling in all its shadowy contours…. if that makes sense. all the ways zuko’s life was affected by his father add up to the shape of his hurt. him not eating fatty foods to stay fit and "bend better". recognizing azula in his own reflection instead of himself. wearing his mom’s night clothes. im going feral feral feral whew! in my heart all this would’ve been a very pretty glittery letter sent to your author p.o. box. i love your story and it lives constantly in my imagination - thank you so much for sharing it with the world!!!

ohhhmg.... thank you for this!! i sat on it for a whole minute to respond right! i'm so glad you like it!! i love that you love all these characters' new lives <3 <3

there are so many Very Careful Lines to Walk in doing an ATLA au bc the original characters and cultural stories are really so complex. and i am FAR from an expert on east asian history / cultures but here are a few sources that I found helpful / interesting:

jinian qian's writing for The Millions, especially the articles "The Moon Is Beautiful Tonight: On East Asian Narratives" and "Light in the West and Shadows in the East"

chaoyang trap, which is not at all about ancient china but about very modern chinese cultural existence, especially on the Internet / social media / fandom. I can't say this has directly provided me with a lot of relevant info but it does help me figure out attitude / approaches / how things "translate" into western contexts

and of course there are so many A:TLA blogs that really keep the analytical conversations going and make ao3 as vibrant as it is-- @atlaculture, @boybff, @volkswagonblues, @azularedemptionarcwhen, @chitsangenthusiast, @azulasnailtech, @visit-ba-sing-se, @marriedzukka, @bleekay, @ash-and-starlight, @sokkagatekeeper, @azulapropaganda, @zukkababey, @comradekatara, @ofherlionheart, @chaoticsandstorm

okay i will stop blasting this post into all of atla tumblr's notifs but the above blogs are total Gs, 10/10, would not be as deep into my MFA in a:tla without these trailblazing scholars who went before me

have a lovely vintage kermit meme, mwah

[aadmelioraa]

Monday Morning thought - gosh do you ever think of Isildur as a Tolkienesque Prometheus-figure. Like the ring as the fire but also the sapling as the fire and the fucking volcano presence in both narratives.

I'm afraid if I start actually reading these books I'll die a death-induced-by-foaming-at-the-mouth-over-literary-characters.

OOOOH!! I hadn't thought about that exact comparison before but it's interesting because rather than stealing in defiance of divinity, when it comes to the fruit of Nimloth Isildur is sort of stealing…out of devotion to the divine? Or in defiance of a particular demigod, who wanted the tree destroyed? But both his choice and Prometheus' can absolutely be framed as the epitome of human striving, reaching with every bit of strength for better things, providing hope for others at great personal cost...and then when it comes to keeping the ring, 100% is a similar instance of unintended tragic consequences. Also the volcano stuff...yeah, shit.

You got me all worked up about the symbolism angle here, so apologies for what follows. The white tree of Númenor is a direct descendent of Telperion, the elder of two trees of Valinor, whose light is used to create the moon after the tree itself is destroyed by Morgoth…Isildur, servant of the moon, is essentially (as in, by his essence) bound to this living thing, his life and its life are tied up in each other for almost 200 years, and he refuses to let the line of the tree end, it’s like a fucking compulsion for him from the initial instance…there’s something about his unquestioning commitment that makes me insane. Stealing the fruit in the first place is such a batshit crazy thing to do, no one asked him to do it, no one said it had to be done, he just fucking left home in the middle of the night on a suicide mission, he may not have even known why but he knew he had to save a piece of this tree. It's fucking unhinged!! He almost DIES…he should have died!! But then the fruit of the tree takes root, and it lives, and so he lives. And that cycle is repeated, Isildur brings the sapling to Middle-earth and plants it in the city where his family makes their home. Then he saves a sapling of that tree when Sauron attacks them there (I imagine this is nearly as reckless a situation as the first one, but JRRT was short on the details here as with most things from this period). Looking at it from Sauron’s POV, poor little dark lord just can't catch a break, maybe all he really wants is this tree gone and a weird feral king with a very specific gardening fixation refuses to let that happen. Sauron lost his fair form when Númenor went under, but Isildur and his family and this fucking tree make it out, and continue to survive...if I were Sauron I might take that personally too lmao. 

Isildur faces so many defeats and losses between the time he steals the fruit in Númenor and his own death (and the loss of the ring), but he ensures the sapling makes it out every time. The last time he plants it, it's in memory of his brother (I won’t cry about this, I won’t cry about this, I won’t). Then Anárion’s line survives, along with the line of the tree, in Gondor, and they're the stewards who hold off the forces of Mordor for generations while everyone else is off doing their own shit. 

Ultimately, Isildur is someone who is trying to make the right choices all the time, and the worst part is he does make them consistently, even later in his life, based on the information he has access to, only to die alone tragically, knowing most of the people who he loves have died too. He kept the ring as WEREGILD, before anybody comes into my notifications with snark and pj!Elrond memes…I am forever bitter that decision was framed in the movies as anything other than the choice of a broken-hearted man trying to do right by his people and the loved ones he’d lost.

Anyway, I would love to hear if you do read the books, I have been foaming the mouth over these characters for two decades off and on and I'm still going strong...not sure if that's more a recommendation or a warning lol. I got very off topic here, sorry lol. He’s just so [incoherent screaming]

[just-some-random-blogger]

Just read parts 1 and 2 of 'Never Before' and I'm going feral, crying, screaming, going up the wall, sleeping in the highway, bathing with acid, foaming at the mouth IT'S SO GOOD BESTIE AAAAAAAA👹👹👹👹👹

The dynamic between reader and Aegon is SCRUMPTIOUS got me smiling at my phone kicking my feet and twirling my hair, omg absolutely mesmerized and in love

And Aemond's little teacher crush??🥰 he's just so desperate I love this pathetic little man

Reader is such a bad bitch too she knows everything, and she kinda reminded me of Sersi from Eternals (2021) but less annoying [if you have watched Eternals you might understand why I dislike her so much but the point is that she works at a museum too and knows everything about the past]

Anyways pardon my rambling, I just had to put it out there 🙈 and pls pls write more modern!Aegon x reader I love how you write him so muchhh, you're so talented 😩

– love, Nyn 💌

HELLO NYN <3 <3 <3 I WAS SO EXCITED TO SEE THIS IN MY INBOX WHEN I WOKE UP <3 <3

I am so touched that my modern!daemon au made you feel so may things here's a love letter for you <3

I'm going feral, crying, screaming, going up the wall,

cryING LAUGHING

sleeping in the highway,

❓❗❓❗ HAHHAAHHHA

bathing with acid,

[JAW ON THE FLOOR] BATHING IN ACID I-

foaming at the mouth IT'S SO GOOD BESTIE AAAAAAAA👹👹👹👹👹

THANK YOU SO MUCH <3

The dynamic between reader and Aegon is SCRUMPTIOUS got me smiling at my phone kicking my feet and twirling my hair, omg absolutely mesmerized and in love

i AM SO HONORED YOU FEEL THIS WAY I HAD SUCH AN AMAZING TIME WRITING MODERN!AEGON HES SUCH A BABE I LOVE HIM

And Aemond's little teacher crush??🥰 he's just so desperate I love this pathetic little man

RIPPPP MY POOR AEMOND REDUCED TO A PATHETIC WET PIECE OF PAPER (prolly soaked in tears)

Reader is such a bad bitch too she knows everything, and she kinda reminded me of Sersi from Eternals (2021) but less annoying [if you have watched Eternals you might understand why I dislike her so much but the point is that she works at a museum too and knows everything about the past]

HAHHADHLAHDASHHDHA i see i actually did watch eternals and i was just very confused at the end of it if im being honest. i mean i mostly fixated on barry keoghan's character druig 😍 but idk i dont think much of the film tbh so i cant say i understand why you find sersi annoying HAHHHAHH

Anyways pardon my rambling, I just had to put it out there 🙈 and pls pls write more modern!Aegon x reader I love how you write him so muchhh, you're so talented 😩

i love rambling <3 you can come and ramble to me about anything anytime! i'm happy to announce that this fic wont leave my mind and i have like 9999999 ideas for it and that includes ???? possibly a spin off for aegon and aemond im so not sure do not quote me on that, but for the mean time id just like to tell you i plan on making a p3 and A LOT is going to happen. a LOT needs to happen or else these brain farts will make me explode T_T

im luv u so much thank you for gracing my inbox with your sweetness

xxx

[myshredda]

I’m not sure if it’s been decided yet— but I was thinking about Pink, Green, and Pink’s dynamic and their age range. Like— they could all be the same age but they have no idea. Sure, Yellow and Green were essentially the same person, but technically, Yellow WAS the first one to come round. I like the think that they have a decent idea that Yellow is the oldest b/c of this, but no one knows how old Pink is. Plus, all of the kids’ birthdays were randomly decided, so it’s something they’d never be able to figure out.

I don’t think it would matter too much to anyone in the clump, but it also brings in the funny idea of them swapping the older sibling/younger sibling title. Like— I can imagine the boys running into trouble with other children (since Lesley likely allowed other people to start existing) and then going to Pink, which in turn makes her grab a bat or something and run out of the house yelling: “LEAVE MY LITTLE BROTHERS ALONE!”

This could also go for a more teasing situation where I can imagine Green being like “as the oldest, we have to do this—“ and then the other two foaming at the mouth yelling that, actually, THEY are the oldest. But then they reverse it when in trouble. Like— Yellow breaks something in Pink’s room and while smoke literally comes out of her ears he’s yelling “DON’T HAVE HURT ME— I’M THE LITTLEST ONE!”

I don't really have any ages set in stone for any of the characters because I like for them to be kind of loosey goosey for plot reasons, much like the way none of the characters have names OR ages in the show (even Yellow's birthday plot in Wakey Wakey is vauge, the ribbon on his shirt goes from 38 to 48 over the course of the episode- so nothing canon there)

I agree that Yellow is technically 'the oldest' only because he was the first one to live with the clump, followed by Green and then Pink, but they would absolutely flip flop around and play with being 'the oldest' or 'the youngest' like a game of hot potato. Whatever they decide in the moment is what age they're currently at I believe.

Pink would be the protective older sister when Yellow and Green are in trouble for sure, she's definitely the most feral, so she'd go crazy protecting her 'little' brothers. Then the hard switch to her being annoying and them turning on her with her reply being 'YOU CAN'T BULLY ME I'M THE YOUNGEST' they would all absolutely do it, Green and Yellow included. I love them all fighting over who gets to be the oldest when fighting over who gets to be in charge, and Yellow claiming being the littlest one to get out of trouble dfslhjhls

[halfmoth-halfman]

the devil works hard, but tumblr user ghostaholics works harder omg you put in effort here bestie this is beyond sweet i'm just-

i really loved your comments, so i hope you don't mind me adding a little bit of writer's commentary for some of the things you mentioned!!

I read the first line and it demolished me, so thank you for that. I thought I knew what I was in for, and clearly I was wrong because I was blushing the entire time. Price is too smooth. I can’t deal. I’d be a big old non-functioning ball of mush in his presence, so kudos to reader for being able to carry on about her day like business as usual, because if he were in such close proximity all the time that way, I don’t think I could relate if I’m being completely honest.

honestly same, i prob would've folded like four chapters ago, but i'm so glad you find him smooth. i'm not great at writing flirty/smooth characters, but i wanted price to come off as a gentleman, but still a little cocky like he's respectful but he knows he could get anyone he wants and it seems i've succeeded so far!!

Actually foaming at the mouth for the way he touches her. I'm a grown-ass woman. I shouldn't be giggling like a fucking school-girl over here. Butterflies in my tummy and whatever. This is fucking blasphemy. Such a slut for the pool game tutorial. Beyond feral. The ‘good girl’ praise outside of the bedroom rocked my shit. Jesus fucking Christ. Trying not to implode and failing miserably. I have read a handful of fics where he says good girl that at this point, I should be immune. But guess what? This one made my brain short-circuit the worst so thanks for that!

the pool game tutorial was one of the first scenes i thought of for this au, so i was so excited when i got to write it. it's such a fun moment where price gets to tease her like the little shit he is, and at this point, everyone knows what's going on and they're all pretty much in on it (ie: valeria bringing him over in the first place) so the gang's having as much fun watching her get all flustered as price is flustering her.

The whole birthday sequence was adorable. I like how you’re expanding the fic to include relationships with other characters because their dynamics as a whole and on an individual level are interesting. They seem like they’d all die for each other and if I don’t have friends like that then I don’t want ‘em at all. Also very nice considering that in the first part she didn’t know anybody and was basically on her own, so seeing them accept the Reader throughout the series has been extremely heart-warming. I’m a soft bitch for the group.

i read a lot of mafia!au's while i was planning this series, and it was something i noticed where the gang/family dynamics weren't explored as heavily (deeply??) as the main couple's and i felt like since the 141 seems so close in the games, it would only seem fitting to explore those dynamics in the fic as well. they all work together under price yes, but they're their own people with their own roles and goals that deserve to be explored. this is a love story, but it's also about canary finding her place among the club and their little found family.

Would die for domestic Price. The sweater? The apron? Cooking? CRYING. Soft touches and gentle kisses? SCREAMING. Reader has more willpower than me because I would’ve folded so fast if he asked me to stay the night. Perished during that part, not gonna lie. Like babe, you want to host a sleepover in your cozy house? Aha~say less. Price was gracious about it, but even if he manhandled me into agreeing (which I would not object to) and I would’ve been all, ‘oh no, I guess I’m spending the night in your wonderful home, how… :/ unfortunate.’ Me at Reader even though she declined politely:

it's not a mothie fic if someone isn't being disgustingly domestic, i live for that stuff. i think it's a big thing for me to really establish how different price is from canary's ex, something we kind of see through her thoughts and her initial panic that price expects her to "pay" for dinner and also that we'll go more into the future, by having him offer her to stay but also respect her boundaries when she either hesitates or turns him down. they flirt, they have fun, but when she stops or pulls away he lets her go and she's slowly letting down that guard and realizing that he respects her just as much on a personal level as he does on a romantic level.

The color coordinating with the dress – you’re a genius; big brain behavior right there. Commence more of me blushing. I actually can't fucking deal. I was basically devolving into something less human towards the end of this fic. Every interaction? Pure gold. Me? A settler migrating west for the California Gold Rush in 1848.

i'm sorry but that gold rush comment is taking me tf out 💀 i cackled when i first read that!! i love the dress scene so much because it's not only the first hints of price spoiling canary like she deserves to be and being a total softie while also giving himself that little ego boost of marking her as his, but it's also their conversation afterwards when he's worried he may have overstepped and is totally ready to ease up if it makes her uncomfortable. it's the conversation where i think canary realizes that this is something a little more than flirting to him.

The end?? G O D. Plotting to hide a body: just cute, couple things <3 Or either way, whatever’s about go down can’t be legal and I’m here thinking that Price, who partakes in criminal/illicit activities is the same person who wears an apron with flour on it – like yes, get you a man who can do both. Also somebody else said it in another comment but the fact that she called him first when she didn't know what to do. I am quite literally not okay. Deceased.

mob!price is the epitome of "get you a man who can both" yes! this man is out here burying bodies and beating people to near-death, but also makes sure he's home in the morning to make you breakfast in bed. also, it's not only the fact that calling him was her first instinct, but the way he literally dropped whatever he was doing to go to her even though they aren't actually together yet. i just love these two and the way they love each other.

also, i am living for the reaction images mixed in here, i'm equal parts touched and dying of laughter.

vii. wise men say, only fools rush in

Pairing: Mob Boss!Price x F!Reader Word Count: 7.5k Warnings: alcohol, heavy flirting, violence, blood, minor character death Disclaimer: I do not own modern warfare or any of the modern warfare characters. A/N: this chapter is dedicated to the wonderful @chaoskrakenuwu, who was kind enough to let me name a character after her, and also to tumblr user @deadbranch, who mentioned that tags in taglists might not work if you have your visibility settings set to make their url unsearchable on tumblr!! i tested it out a few times and sometimes it works, sometimes not but if your tag isn't working below maybe double-check your visibility settings and turn them off (if you're comfortable with that) and I'll try updating your tag!! small edit: tumblr cut off part of the middle, so i re-added it in case you saw it when it first posted and it didn't make sense LOL prev | next

In the following weeks, you learn one very important thing: John Price is a relentless flirt.

(After that first conversation, he had disappeared into his office for the remainder of the day not reappearing until you had returned to the club to get ready backstage. You took your time, heart racing as your attention was split between preparing for the show and trying not to imagine Price joining you backstage and making good on his offer to wish you luck.

He never did, but once you took your place on stage, you immediately spotted him sitting at the bar between Ghost and Nik, eyes trained solely on you. He stayed in that spot for the entire show, his gaze never once leaving you, even when others came up to speak to him. He bought you a congratulatory drink afterward, handed to you with a sly smile and gentle squeeze of your hip.)

He hadn’t stayed long after that, whisked away by something important Ghost whispered into his ear, but you find him in that same spot every night after that, watching your performance with a singular intensity that sets your skin on fire.

Farah takes over the two weeks leading up to her and Alex’s departure, giving you a welcomed break and letting you enjoy the club and her flawless performances.

Price maintains his spot at the bar, making eyes at you anytime you pass by as you spend your time between dancing with Kyle and watching Valeria hustle unsuspecting patrons at the pool table. When you occasionally stop at the bar, you make it a point to stand next to him as you wait for your drinks.

Regardless of what he’s doing—whether he’s drinking with his eyes glued to you or talking to someone else, his attention focused entirely away from you—a warm hand always winds its way around your waist, slowly feeling up the fabric of whatever outfit Valeria’s put you in for the night before it settles on your hip. You lean into the touch, lightly skimming your nails across the back of Price’s hand as you wait for your drinks.

Alex serves you with a knowing look—one you make a show of ignoring—and you squeeze Price’s hand. He presses your hip in response, the slow glide of his hand as he pulls back his arm, leaving a blazing trail across your skin that lingers as you take your drinks and return to Kyle or Valeria.

“You know,” Valeria says one night, sharp gaze following you as you return from the bar with a drink for her and lemon water for yourself, “you still owe me a game.”

“Can’t say it’ll be much of a game,” you laugh, sitting beside her. “I’m shit at poker.”

“I wasn’t talking about poker,” Valeria grins, eyes sliding to her right where the pool tables sit.

“Alright, but fair warning, I’m about as good at pool as I am poker.” Valeria pays you no mind, taking her drink and sauntering toward the tables, crimson dress flowing with every step.

The table she approaches is occupied, surrounded by a small group that isn’t so much playing as they are holding cue sticks and talking. Valeria joins them, easing into their conversation with a coy smile and light touch to the nearest man’s arm. You don’t hear the conversation, but Valeria tilts her head and says something, and one of the group hands her his pool cue before leading the rest of his friends to the dancefloor.

“That was nice of them,” you laugh, joining her at the table. She hums a small laugh, handing you your own cue stick.

Valeria starts the game, and it ends almost as quickly as it begins, a look of absolute disbelief plastered on her face.

“I told you I was bad at this,” you tease her.

“I never thought I’d meet a worse player than Alejandro.” Valeria shakes her head, unable to compose herself for the first time since you’ve met her. You’d take some pride in being able to surprise her if it weren’t followed by the pitying gaze of disappointment she turns to you with.

It’s a quick, momentary glance before that tell-tale smirk crawls across her face. She lays her cue on the table, sights set on something behind you. “We’ll fix this, don’t worry.”

Valeria pats you on the arm, disappearing into the crowd of people before you can stop her. You let it go, setting your cue next to hers and taking the time to sip from your water and turn your attention to the stage where Farah gives another flawless performance.

“Enjoying yourself, Птичка?” You turn, finding Nik leaning against the other side of the pool table, dressed in solid black with his sunglasses pushed up into his hair.

“Very much so, actually.”

Nik laughs, tipping his drink to you with an easy smile as Valeria reappears beside him. You don’t get the chance to react as a hand slides across your waist, your body tensing at the sudden touch.

“Glad to hear it.” You relax as the baritone of Price’s voice reaches your ears, and you turn to land a playful slap against his chest.

“Let’s try this again—,” Valeria says, picking up both pool cues and holding one out to you and the other to Price, “—two against two.”

You’re reluctant to take the cue stick from her, but you do, sending Price a sympathetic smile, “Apologies in advance.”

“C’mon now, you can’t be that bad,” he chuckles. Valeria lets out a bark of a laugh as Price takes the other stick from her. She turns away swiftly, trying to bite down on the smirk stretching across her face as Nik re-racks the balls.

Valeria is gracious enough to convince Nik to let you go first, and you do your best on the break. Your best is…not great, laughable even.

And laugh Valeria does. Nik lets out a low whistle, turning away the moment you look at him, his shoulders shaking with unmistakable laughter. You turn to Price, your last saving grace, only to find him staring back with a pitying look that you think you hate more than the laughter.

“Yeah, yeah, get your laughs in,” you pout, setting your cue stick against the table and crossing your arms over your chest.

“Aw, don’t be like that,” Valeria coos, lips pursed tauntingly.

“You weren’t…awful,” Nik adds, though it’s choked out through stifled laughs.

“It’s the way you’re holding it,” Price laughs, making his way toward you. “Here, I’ll show you.”

You expect him to take over your turn, but he holds his cue stick out to you instead. You pout for an extra second before giving an exaggerated sigh and taking the stick from him. He catches your wrist before you can pull away and lightly pulls you toward him, guiding you to stand in front of him.

If you couldn’t play before, you don’t know how anyone expects you to concentrate when the solid warmth of Price’s body presses up against your back, his chin resting on your shoulder so you can feel the soft fanning of his breath against your neck. Gently, he adjusts your elbows, guiding you to hold the cue stick properly. When he’s satisfied, his hands glide down from your elbows, one settling on your hip and the other against your back. He takes his time, feeling the velvet material of the sapphire blue dress Valeria put you in. He hums appreciatively, the vibrations skating down your spine.

“Lean forward,” he murmurs into your ear, the club’s music drowned out by his voice. A small press to your back, and you bend forward, trying not to lose your grip on the cue stick as he purrs, “A little more.”

When he’s satisfied, his hand leaves your back to settle on your shoulder. He turns you slightly to the left, adjusting your angle before he steps back with a soft, “Now try.”

Keeping yourself composed is a struggle, but you do as he says. The cue ball sails, a successful break scattering the rest across the table. The group around you cheers as you stand up straight and instantly reach for your water. You sip the icy water, trying to cool to fire, crawling beneath your skin as Valeria takes her turn, but Price stands at your side, leaning down so close you can feel his lips brush against the shell of your ear.

“Good girl.”

You swallow hard, nearly choking on your water as he pulls away with a wide smirk, and you realize that he’s here to play an entirely different game.

After five rounds, your team loses 3-2, but Price leads you to the bar for a consolation drink with an arm around your waist, and you feel like the biggest winner in the club.

-

Kyle’s birthday comes mid-summer.

He doesn’t tell you about it, but you get a suspicious text from Soap one night inviting you to a “secret meeting” at the club and telling you to bring cash.

It’s the middle of the night, far too late for you to be safely leaving your motel room, but you get ready anyway.

Curiosity killed the cat, not the canary, after all.

When you get to the club, you text Soap, and he tells you to come through the front, lock the door behind you, and head straight backstage. You follow his instructions, finding backstage empty and vacant save for the soft echo of voices from the dressing room. You follow the voice, knocking twice before opening the door.

As soon as the door opens, the room goes silent. You’ve apparently interrupted a very serious meeting between Soap, Ghost, Roach, and König as their attention snaps to you. The room fills with a tense silence as you stand in the doorway, a stack of cash in hand as they stare you down.

You speak first, eyes bouncing between the four nervously, “You’re not about to kill me, are you?”

That seems to break the tension as Ghost scoffs and the others relax.

“’Course not, Owl,” Soap rolls his eyes, reaching over to take the money from your hand and add it to a small pile sitting on Farah’s vanity. “Assumin’ the worst there, aren’t ya?”

“You send me a cryptic text telling me to meet you in the backrooms with a stack of cash and expect me not to be suspicious? This is how people get killed in horror movies,” you argue, shutting the door behind you.

“You still came, didn’t you?” Ghost counters.

“He has a point,” König shrugs, and Roach nods.

“Why am I here?” you ask flatly, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Right, so you know how Gaz’s birthday is comin’ up?” Soap speaks as he counts through the small pile of money.

You blink, asking, “It is?”

He hadn’t said anything to you. Would it be rude to ask him about it?

“Every year, we always try to get him something, y’know, from all of us,” Roach explains.

“But every year, Valeria and Alejandro always get him something extra just from them,” Soap huffs. “So, we started doin’ the same.”

“It’s become a bit of a competition now,” Ghost sighs, obviously not as enthused about this as Roach and Soap.

“Of course,” you hum. A little more relaxed now that you know why you’re here, you lean back against the door and ask, “So, what’re you getting him?”

“Oh,” König starts, “we were thinking of—”

Roach smacks his arm as Soap lets out a sharp whistle, shaking his head furiously when König turns to him.

“Really?” you scoff. “I gave you my money—”

“And we greatly appreciate your donation,” Soap says, turning to you with a sly grin and your cash in his hand. “As will Gaz, I’m sure.”

“What am I supposed to get him, then?”

“You’re a smart girl,” Soap teases, “’m sure you can figure that out on your own.”

“You’re not even gonna give me a hint?” You look to the others, but Ghost and Roach stay silent, König giving you an apologetic shrug. “Fine. Just know I’m not showing up next time you need something from me in the middle of the night.”

“Yeah, y’will,” Soap laughs.

He’s right, but he doesn’t need to know that right now.

“Whatever, keep your little secrets. I’m going home.”

“Night, Kiwi!” Soap calls as you leave the dressing room. You let the door swing closed behind you, but the thud of it shutting never happens. You turn back, finding König closing the door softly before he catches up to you.

“I’ll walk you out,” he says softly, glancing back to the dressing room. There’s something slightly off as König trails behind you, constantly looking over his shoulder—not like he’s nervous, but as if he’s about to do something he shouldn’t.

He holds the front door open for you, giving one last look over his shoulder.

You have to ask.

“Are you oka—”

König leans down, almost uncomfortably close, and mumbles, “He likes practical things.”

“What?”

“Mostly clothes, preferably socks. Oh, and food. Especially pastries.” König takes a small step forward, getting close enough that you can see tiny flecks of amber brown in his eyes.

“He has a big sweet tooth,” he whispers conspiratorially, and it clicks in your head.

“Oh,” you say as König steps back, leaning against the door. “Thank you.”

“Viel Glück.” König gives you a short nod, the edges of his mask rising with the apples of his cheeks as he smiles at you.

The drive back to your motel room is spent formulating a plan to figure out the specific day Kyle’s birthday falls on and what to get him. You spend more of the night trying to think than sleeping, doing your best to devise a way to ask him about it without sounding too obvious. It should be easy—getting information out of someone is nothing you haven’t done before—but Kyle’s sharper than he lets on. You’ll have to be a bit more careful this time.

You’re still thinking about it when you get to the club the next morning, so focused on your plan that you nearly run into Ghost as he steps out of Price’s office.

“Watch it,” he grumbles, wrapping a hand around your arm to steady you.

“Sorry,” you mumble.

“Bit distracted this morning, are we?” You look up as Kyle walks out of the office behind Ghost, amused smile on his face.

“Didn’t get a lot of sleep,” you shrug, sending a quick, pointed look to Ghost, who stares back at you with his usual monotone expression.

“Been there,” Kyle chuckles, pulling his car keys from the pocket of his black jacket and handing them to Ghost.

“Going somewhere?” you ask.

“Doing something for the Boss,” Kyle winks.

“It’s a small business errand, nothing to worry about.” Ghost’s answer leaves no room for more questions, so you nod in acceptance.

“I’ll see you two later, then.” You watch them walk to the front and out of the club, waiting for the doors to click shut before you turn and slip inside the office. Price sits behind his desk, writing something in a small, black journal, and you grin at the sight.

Maybe you don’t have to talk to Kyle at all.

“Can I ask you a question?” you ask as you walk up to the desk. Price’s hand stills against the journal as he looks up at you in slight surprise. You’re sure you’re probably not supposed to be in here without being invited in, but you see how his eyes dip down over your form and decide that he probably doesn’t mind.

“Just the one?” he smiles, setting his pen down to give you his full, undivided attention.

“Just the one, I promise,” you laugh, sitting in one of the chairs in front of the desk. “When’s Kyle’s birthday?”

The smile stays, but his brows draw together curiously, eyes narrowing slightly.

“Right, and which team are you asking this for?”

Ah, so he knows.

“Neither. I just wanted to get him something nice…and maybe get back at Soap for conning me out of my money.”

Price laughs at that, shaking his head as he leans back in his chair. It creaks softly, and you’re momentarily lost in the thought of how comfortable it looks.

It definitely looks like it could hold two people—

Stop.

Focus.

Kyle’s birthday.

“It’s next Thursday,” he says, breaking you out of your momentary distraction. “The club will be closed that night while we celebrate.”

That gives you eight days. You can work with that. All you have to do now is figure out what to get him.

And you’re sitting across from the one person who would know best.

“Do you have any hints for what I could get him?” you ask, giving your sweetest smile that he definitely sees straight through.

“That’s more than one question,” he chuckles.

“I mean, they both go together. Think of it as two halves to the same question.” You bat your lashes, keeping that tauntingly sweet smile aimed at him.

“So, you get an extra question,” he says, leaning forward and clasping his hands together atop the desk. He tilts his head, staring into your eyes, and purrs, “What do I get in return?”

“The satisfaction of helping out your favorite employee?” you tease, setting your elbows on the desk to lean toward him.

“You’re my favorite, are you?” he laughs softly, inching just a bit closer.

“You just said so yourself,” you grin. He hums, amused and impressed, a fondness in his eyes that sends a slight pang through your chest.

“He likes desserts,” Price tells you.

“Anything specific?” you press, slowly leaning forward until only a few inches are left between you.

“Careful now,” he warns, all silk and want and looking two seconds from jumping over the desk. “That’s a third question.”

You sit there for just a second, letting him watch your eyes fall to his lips as you lean a little closer before—

“You’re right,” you sigh dramatically, pulling back entirely, smug grin across your face. “I’m sure I can figure it out myself.”

“You’re a cruel woman,” he laughs, settling back in his chair with his arms crossed over his chest. You throw him a wink that earns you a playful roll of his eyes. Your phone chimes from your pocket, and when you check it, you find a message from Farah asking you to meet her backstage.

“Time for me to head out,” you sigh, standing from your chair. You turn to look at Price, giving him an earnest smile, “Thanks for the help. I appreciate it.”

“Anytime, Dove.”

You head toward the door as Price picks up his pen, ready to return to what he’d been working on before you came in.

“If you can bake,” Price calls out just as you grab the door handle, “try an apple sponge. It’s one of his favorites.”

You turn back to thank him, but he’s already focused on his work. You stash the information away in your mind, heading into the club to meet Farah with a wide grin.

(It takes a lot of trial and error in your motel room’s dingy little kitchen—little more than a hot plate and a mini fridge—but you’re eventually successful with a small apple sponge pudding the night before Kyle’s birthday.

When you present it to him, waiting until the party’s died down and everyone else is focused on something else, his eyes go glassy at the first taste. For a moment, you’re worried you’ve messed up the recipe, but he sets the plate down and wraps you in a tight hug.

“Used to make this with my mum,” he laughs into your shoulder, watery and sad and so, so appreciative. “Haven’t had one in years.”

He pulls away after a soft squeeze, his signature bright smile a little tighter than usual.

“Thank you, really.”

He goes back to the dessert, offering a couple of bites to his date, the woman who had worn the purple and teal dresses and whose name you’ve learned is Tabby.

You glance up from the happy couple, eyes roving over the rest of the party until you catch eyes with Price. He grins, winking at you, before returning to his conversation with Nik and Alex.

You don’t know how you’ll thank him, but you have a few ideas.)

-

“Are you busy tomorrow night?”

You nearly jump out of your skin as Price startles you, not only with his question but also with his sudden appearance at your side.

The club is closed for the week—you’re not told why—but you still come in to clean in the mornings. You’d been enjoying your small break at the bar, scrolling through your phone absentmindedly.

You thought you were alone, but apparently not.

“Not that I know of,” you say, trying to calm the jittering of your nerves. “Why?”

“Would you like to have dinner?”

Your mind blanks.

Your heart skips a beat, stunned at the idea that he might actually be asking you out and even more stunned by the instant yes that sits on the tip of your tongue.

“I—”

“We’re having a small get-together for whoever wants to come.”

There’s a painful squeeze in your chest that you’re forced to ignore, and you do your best to cover the sting with a smile.

“Sure! Sounds fun.”

“Perfect.” He smiles back wide, leaning forward to press a kiss to the top of your head before turning and walking away. “I’ll have Gaz send you the address,” he calls over his shoulder before disappearing into his office.

You stand there, staring at his office doors, doing everything you can to quell the sudden heat flooding your body.

You add extra ice to your water and bury yourself in your work as a poor distraction.

Kyle texts you the address that night, along with a message telling you not to come into work the next day, and a single sentence after that reads: Wear something blue :).

You sleep in the next morning—the first time in years—taking your time to go through your clothes and get ready. Your wardrobe is limited—all of the outfits Valeria’s had made for you sitting in the dressing room at the club.

Those would probably be too formal anyways.

You decide on your usual jeans and boots, but dig out a lighter shirt—more grey than blue, but passable—to wear under your black sweater. It’ll have to work as you spend the rest of your time fixing your hair, relaxing, and singing along to the music on your phone.

You leave an hour early, still unfamiliar with the city streets outside your commute to and from the club. The directions are simple enough to follow, your phone’s GPS taking you through the city easily, but after almost twenty minutes, you take a turn and realize you’re being led out of the city.

The drive is almost peaceful, the bustle of the city melting away into broad open landscape then into large trees filled with lush greenery. You’re directed to an off-road leading deeper into the thicket, your car protesting as it leaves the pavement and starts down the dirt road.

It takes half an hour of driving through solid forest before the trees around you begin to thin, and the dirt road slowly turns to gravel, then to smooth stone. The road curves and winds through the trees before you take a sharp turn, and you catch sight of the house.

No, house isn’t the right word. Manor would be more accurate.

The car comes to a halt as you hit the brakes, hands tightening around your steering wheel until your nails dig into the heels of your palms.

A sprawling estate surrounded by lush greenery that grows up the front of the house, you’re reminded of your family’s old summer home. That house hadn’t been nearly as big as this, but Price’s manor carries the same quaint feeling you remember having every time your father took you on vacation at the summer home.

The knot that grows in your throat is sudden, the rush of nostalgia slamming into you without warning.

The last time you had been to that old house was for your wedding.

You still remember the smell of lilacs and sweet peas that drifted up from the beautifully decorated courtyard into the bridal suite, the gorgeous bespoke gown that had once been your mother’s—gifted to you by your father as your something borrowed—and the beaming smile you carried for the entire day.

The last good day you remember having in your old life.

That’s over now, you remind yourself. You’re safe here.

You take a deep breath, loosening your grip on the steering wheel and easing off the brake. You drive slowly, taking in the beautifully laid out gardens around the front of the manor, trying to push down the painful fondness that stabs at your heart.

You park behind the various cars at the end of the driveway, locking your car behind you just once before making your way to the front doors.

Just like the club, they’re unlocked.

As soon as you walk in, you’re hit with a delicious smell and the sounds of quiet laughter. You follow the noise, taking in the interior of the house. It’s homey, understated, downright cozy, and somehow fitting for what you’d imagine as Price’s home.

“Look who it is!” Alex cheers as you walk into a sitting room. He sits on one of the couches, an arm draped across the back and around Farah. Across from them is Kyle, spread out on the other couch, busy typing away on his phone, his feet almost in Nik’s lap. You’ve never seen them so dressed down before, all in some type of hoodie, sweater, sweats combination—or pajama pants in Nik’s case.

Farah and Nik give you the same eager greeting, but Kyle continues on his phone, ignoring your presence entirely.

“Don’t mind him,�� Farah scoffs. “He’s too busy with his new girlfriend.”

“It’s no problem,” you laugh, looking around the room. Farah watches you, smirk plastered on her face.

“The old man’s in the kitchen,” she says, nodding toward the other side of the room. Alex and Nik bite back their laughs, and you choose to ignore them.

“Thanks, Farah.” She nods, and you head in the direction she gives you. You head in the direction she gives you, passing through the dining room before you’re able to find the kitchen.

It’s not exactly like the one from your old summer home, but it’s damn close—spacious yet comfortable, all earth-toned and welcoming—and it’s a fight to swallow down the knot in your throat.

“You’re here!”

You’re pulled out of your thoughts as Price catches sight of you, setting down the knife in his hand and making his way over to you. You’ve never seen him in a sweater before, but you know how you’d kill to see him in one again. Like the others, he’s dressed down from his usual club attire: a deep maroon sweater with rolled sleeves, jeans, and a black apron with small spots of flour across it.

“Yeah, didn’t want to miss out on seeing my boss in an apron,” you joke as he pulls you into a hug, followed by a kiss on the head. You let yourself melt into him, missing his warmth the minute he pulls away.

“You can have a drink and wait with the others if you want. Grab whatever you want from the fridge,” he says, heading back to his station.

“Actually,” you take a deep breath, setting your hands on the island counter, “I was wondering if there was anything I could help with?”

He seems surprised at the offer, brows raised as he looks up at you. But the surprise is quickly replaced with a fond smile.

“You any good at chopping vegetables?” he asks.

“The best,” you tease, inching your way over to him, giving him time to tell you no.

“You can take over here, then.”

He takes a step back, and you take his place, picking the knife up from the cutting board. You’re about to start when you feel his hands settle on your hips and his lips brushing against the skin of your neck. You tilt your head automatically, pressing back into him as he murmurs a quiet, “Thank you.” He pulls away immediately after, leaving you to your work.

Time flies by, the two of you work almost seamlessly together in the kitchen. You laugh and joke and enjoy as Price takes every opportunity to put his hands on you. Small, teasing touches, but they send your heart racing each and every time, and soon you find yourself returning the favor.

By the time the food’s ready, you’ve shed your sweater, the kitchen heat, and the man next to you far too much for you. You take it in stride, having more fun than you’ve had in a long time and allowing yourself to enjoy this moment.

Dinner passes by equally as fun, feeling like those rare dinners you got to have with your father—just you and him, just family.

The others bid their goodbye, Alex and Farah heading home after dishes are done, Nik heading upstairs to one of the many spare rooms, and Kyle leaving to meet Tabby at her place. You help clean, waiting until everything is spotless to take your leave. Price walks you to the door, hand on the small of your back the entire walk.

“You know,” he says as you reach the front door, “you could stay here for the night.”

“What? You mean you don’t want to come back to mine?” you tease, lightly nudging him with your elbow. When he doesn’t laugh, you still worry creeping up your spine.

Please, don’t ask me to “repay” you for dinner.

Please, don’t ask me to “repay” you for dinner.

Please, don’t ask me to “repay” you for dinner.

“There’s plenty of room here,” he says quietly, pulling his hand from your back so he can turn to face. “I just—I’d sleep better knowing you were somewhere…safer.”

Oh. Oh.

You don’t know how you can possibly feel more endeared than you do in this moment, the worry so genuine on his face.

“It’s not that bad. I’ve been fine so far,” you offer, voice soft as you set a hand on his arm. “You don’t need to worry about me.”

He huffs a quiet laugh, wrapping his hand around yours, “There’s always room for you here if you ever change your mind.”

“Thank you.”

And even if you don’t take up the offer now, you mean it with all your heart.

-

Summer nears its end when you find a sleek red box sitting atop your vanity that was definitely not there before you went on stage.

A small white card with your name written on the front rests on top of the box, a handwritten note with an address and a date for Saturday afternoon. You don’t recognize the address or the handwriting, so you set the card aside cautiously, sliding your fingers under the box lid.

You lift the lid, curiosity winning out over your caution.

Laying inside, pristinely folded, is a dress. A very beautiful, pale dress covered in pale blue columbine flowers. You run your fingers along the fabric, admiring the softness of the organza against your skin.

What is this for?

You wrack your brain trying to think of any upcoming birthdays or events, but nothing comes to mind. You’re sure you’d know; things like that are usually a big deal for the club.

You’re left wondering as someone knocks on the dressing room door. You quickly put the lid back on the box, tucking the card into the pocket of your jacket draped over the back of your chair.

When you leave for the night, you take the box back to the motel room, setting it on top of the duffle bag that holds your clothes, where it sits untouched for the rest of the week.

When Saturday comes, you wake up an hour before your alarm and head straight for the box. You set it on the bed and spend the morning getting ready with a long, room-temperature shower.

A small voice nags in the back of your mind as you stand in your underwear, staring down at the box on your bed. You’re excited and nervous, eager to try on the dress but unsure of what to expect from all of this.

The last time someone surprised you with a dress…

You shake the thoughts from your head, pulling the lid from the box, lifting the dress out, and finding a pair of nude flats lying at the bottom.

It’s long and light, made of a soft, airy material that falls to the ground with short, sheer puffy sleeves and a slit up to the knee. You have no trouble putting it on, the smooth silk gliding against your skin in a fit so perfect that you immediately think this must be Valeria’s doing.

You twirl, watching the material fan out with a wide smile. You leave the shoes in the box while you fix your hair, putting in the effort to get your hair just right and make yourself look as good as the dress makes you feel.

When you’re done, and looking far more stunning than you anticipated, you slip on the shoes and grab your keys.

You head out to your car in the early afternoon, pulling up the address on your phone. Your destination is just outside the city, opposite from where you are. It doesn’t take long, even in the afternoon traffic, and it ends with you pulling up to a large house with a driveway full of familiar cars.

You park behind Kyle’s car, giving yourself one last look in your slightly crooked rearview mirror.

When you step out of your car, you’re instantly met with music and laughter echoing from the backyard. You follow the path up to the front door, knocking twice as you admire the front garden.

The house is far enough out of the city to not be near anyone else but close enough to not have to drive an hour to get to the club like Price’s. Large, spacious, and a yard covered in different types of flowers.

A sharp whistle startles you as you take in how well taken care of the daisies look.

“Canary!” You step back from the door, looking across the driveway where Kyle stands, waving his hands at you, Roach next to him, holding open a gate that you assume leads to the backyard.

It’s weird to see them out of their standard black, but the bright summer colors fit them just as well. You make your way over, Kyle meeting you halfway to pull you into a hug.

“Glad you make it!”

“Me too!” you laugh, following him to the gate so you can hug Roach. “What’s the occasion?”

“Occasion?” Roach asks, holding the gate open with his foot so he can sign to you.

“It’s just a party,” Kyle says with a curious tilt of his head. “Valeria didn’t tell you?”

“Why would she tell me?”

“Because it’s her house?” Roach blinks.

“No one told me anything. I found a card with a time and place sitting on my vanity. And this—” you gesture to the dress, “—with it.”

“That’s one way to invite you, I guess,” Kyle shrugs, throwing an arm around your shoulders with an easy smile. “Either way, we’re glad you’re here.”

He and Roach lead you into the backyard, equally beautiful as the front, with tall trees providing shade and a large pool in the center. The entire club is here. Alejandro and Alex stand near the grill, laughing and passing jokes while the rest of the club is gathered at the few tables set up in the shade near the back doors to the house.

Valeria spots you instantly, making her way over with a wide grin. Kyle slides his arm from your shoulders as she gets close, and she pulls you into a quick hug.

“You made it!” she cheers, taking a step back and giving you an appreciative once over. “And you look fantastic! I’m proud of you.”

“It wasn’t all me,” you say, a little shy under the praise. “Thank you for the dress, by the way.”

“Hm?” Valeria raises a brow. “Well, it is lovely, and the blue’s a nice touch, but it’s not one of mine.”

“What?”

If it wasn’t her, then…who?

You look around the yard, glancing over the rest of your friends and coworkers. They all seem busy talking, laughing, enjoying themselves.

All except for one, John Price, who’s sitting between Ghost and König, wearing a pale blue shirt to match the color of the flowers on your dress and staring at you with an intensity that sets your skin alight.

“Oh,” Valeria laughs, following your gaze.

“Explains the blue,” Kyle snickers, nudging your arm with his elbow.

You pull your eyes away from Price to smack Kyle in the chest. You’re met with laughter from the three of them, covering your face with your hands in a poor attempt to cool the heat in your cheeks.

“I hate all of you,” you grumble, their laughter growing as you head for the tables. You do your best to smile and not appear as flustered as you are, returning hellos and hugs as everyone notices you. When you reach the back table, Ghost nods in greeting while König stands to hug you. However, when he pulls away from you, he pulls out the chair he’d been sitting in and gestures for you to sit.

“You don’t have to—”

“I have to help Alex soon, anyway,” König shrugs.

“Okay, then,” you smile, taking the seat, turning to add a quick thank you before he leaves for the grill.

“You look lovely,” Price says the moment you turn back to the table. “Blue suits you.”

Ghost doesn’t speak, simply picking up his glass and sitting next to Soap at the table across from yours.

“Like this color, do you?” you ask, setting your elbows on the table to lace your fingers together and set your chin atop them, smiling at him with a raised brow.

“You could say I’m partial to it,” he shrugs casually, eyes trailing down the expanse of your leg exposed through the slit of your dress. “Especially on certain people.”

You can’t help but giggle, shaking your head as you lean back in your chair.

You take a moment to feel the warmth from the sun, cooled by the gentle summer breeze carrying a soft bite of autumn’s inevitable chill.

You don’t remember the last time you could simply enjoy a day outside.

“Thank you, by the way,” you speak up, turning to Price with a soft smile. “You didn’t have to get me a dress, but I appreciate it.”

“Not a fan of gifts?” he asks, an unusual hesitance in his voice.

“I like them. I’m just…not used to them, I guess.”

Or ones that don’t come with ulterior motives, anyway.

He stares at you for a brief second before his hand slides across the table to settle over you with a light squeeze. “Think you better get used to it then, love. There’s plenty more where that came from.”

You huff a quiet laugh, shaking your head at the smug grin on Price’s face.

“I’m not going to be able to talk you out of that, am I?”

“Not at all,” he laughs, and you laugh along, turning your hand over to lace your fingers through his.

You give a soft squeeze of his hand, soaking up the warmth from his hand, “Price, I—”

“Sparrow, get over here! We’re starting karaoke!” You turn as Soap yells from his table.

“In a minute!” you call back.

“Fine, but I’m pickin’ your song!”

Price chuckles next to you, releasing your hand. Disappointment swells in your chest before his hand reaches your bare knee. “Go have fun. We can talk later,” he smiles.

You nod, and he lets his hand linger a second longer before pulling away as you stand up. You adjust your dress before glancing over to Price. As soon as the idea comes to your head, you act. Setting a hand on his shoulder, you lean down to press a kiss to his cheek before whispering into his ear your promise of later.

You step away quickly, making your way over to the rest of your friends, looking back only once to catch Price’s eyes. He sends you a wink, standing from his chair to join Alex, Alejandro, and König.

You don’t know what later entails, but you’re certainly looking forward to it.

-

Everything changes at the beginning of autumn when you return to your motel room exhausted from an incredibly long week.

You don’t take notice of the new car that sits in the usually empty parking lot.

Or how your door doesn’t click when you turn the key.

Or that your duffel bag sits open on top of your bed, instead of under it like you’d left it that morning.

If your father had been here, he would’ve killed you being so careless, for letting your guard down so much.

But the man who’s broken into your room takes up the job for him, waiting until you reach the bathroom door to shove his way out and tackle you to the floor. You don’t get the chance to scream as your head slams into the floor, and your vision goes blurry.

You feel his weight over you as he tries to grab at your arms, words coming out of his mouth that your fuzzy brain can’t process right now. He gets frustrated, hands wrapping around your neck before they squeeze, and your neck burns.

You squirm and push, fighting back with everything you have until you can land a kick to his stomach that sends him stumbling to the side.

You roll onto your stomach, stumbling to push yourself up to your feet. You make it to your dresser before a meaty hand wraps around your ankle and yanks.

You're sent back to the grab, scrabbling to grab hold of anything you can on the dresser. Your hand catches something, and you wrap your fist around it on the way down, waiting until the man tries to climb over you again before you swing.

You make contact with him, the object in your hand causing an audible crack against his head. He falls over, and instinct takes over. You swing again, then one more time before you toss the object aside—it's the table lamp that never worked, now that you're given time to look at it—and scoot back until your back is pressed against the foot of your bed.

It takes a minute before your vision can fully focus, and you process the man lying on your floor, blood pooling out from the cracked open dent in his head.

Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Oh fuck.

You don't know what else to do, going straight for your phone. Your eyes glassy, you struggle to find the contact you need and gulp down as much air as you can while it rings.

"Hello?"

I'm sorry to bother you. Please, don't be mad.

"H-Hey. I—I um—"

You can't get words around, lungs constricting too fast to get air in.

"Canary? Are you okay?"

"I don't—I don't know what—what happened. I—"

"Breathe, love. Where are you?"

"He at—he attacked me. I didn't mean to—I didn't—"

You hear conversation in the background, multiple voices.

"Are you at home?"

"I—"

"Yes or no, love."

"Y—yes."

"Stay there, okay?"

"Okay."

You don't mean to hang up, but your hands are too shaky, and you hit end call button trying to put Price on speaker.

You don't know how long you sit there, hyperventilating as you stare at the man bleeding out on your floor. Minutes? Hours? You have no way to tell; time passes too quickly yet drags second by second.

You don't hear your door open or the soft call of your name, but you do feel the hand on your shoulder.

"No!" You try to pull away, but the person moves in front of you, and you go into full panic mode.

"Stop, it's me. It's me. It's okay. It's me, love."

Two warm hands settle on either side of your face, turning you to look forward, where you find Price on his knees in front of you, concern etched deep into his features.

"I—he tried to—"

His hands fall from your face, instead wrapping around you to pull you into him. You go easily, tucking yourself against him, against the familiar comfort as the knot swells in your throat and the dam finally breaks.

"Shh, it's okay," Price coos into your hair. "I've got you. You're safe."

Despite the circumstances, you believe him.

taglist: @sleepyendymion, @blazedprince, @blueoorchid, @ohgodthebogisback, @melancholyy-hill, @wasteland-babe, @meepetteoneonly, @anitaebee, @honeyr4ven, @curasimp, @jxvipike, @frazie99, @reiya-djarin, @urfavsunkissedleo, @hauntingtherosebush, @aerangi, @ofmenanduhhhwellmen, @warners-wife, @xx4rcticxx, @mundane-frogola, @marytvirgin, @nyooom, @gogh-with-the-flow, @arctic-writes, @thriving-n-jiving, @deadpoetsandhoney, @itsberrydreemurstuff, @blurpleuni-squid, @dead-noodles, @urfavsunkissedleo, @tapioca-marzipan, @averyyreads, @sourire-acide, @nivalis-dies, @froggi-mushroom, @carla019083-blog, @urlovecarla, @fvfvxcvfxcvf, @digitalsins, @dectectivejjbittenbinder, @330bpm-whiplash, @warners-wife, @das-conk-creet-baybee, @dudewithastick, @x-jeff-johansen-x, @calypsoonn, @octopiys, @tbrfic, @pssytrux, @pastelpixies, @bloodyfoxes12, @emma342561, @scattermind-001, @kereseth, @iwaszoomingg, @schlafenderbruder, @sanfransolomitatm, @solidly-indulgent, @oastertoaster, @whovianwar, @kateanacall, @luvmariax0, @tbrfic, @gh0st-r1der, @certainlynotasimp, @pheobees, @fivedicksinatrenchcoat, @sarapaprikas-blog, @moriflos, @laeilaps, @furiousshepherdclambailiff, @tactical-shrimp, @rosesgaylol, @marvelranger, @msdrpreist, @riverrka

[charmspoint]

Please do rant about the misuse of Chuuya if you have the will and time. He used to be my favourite (still is really) but nothing happened with him! It's awful

It's a bsd day isn't, i can sit here and pretend i'm all into jjk now but till the rest of my days ill be ready to foam at the mouth about bsd after i have forgotten who gojo satoru is THATS IMPACT BABY

Anyway: Chuuya Nakahara, what a crime

Context wise, I got into bsd around the time the anime started. I think it was either one of those instances where i watched the first episode and immediately binged the manga or saw the synopsis and binged the manga before watching, one of those two.

Things we knew about Chuuya back then?

Jack

Shit

Dazai's ex (partner)

We had that scene when Dazai gets caught and of course the coveted panel of Dazai and Chuuya as kids, i would post it here but for some reason tumblr decided i get no picture rights but everyone and their dog knows what im talking about.

The thing was Chuuya is so fucking cool. His design? Top notch. His chemistry with Dazai? Top notch. His character even outside that relationship? Top notch.

He had the coolest fucking design and a mysterious relationship with one of fan favorite characters. He was angry and snappy which perfectly bounced off of Dazai's annoying coolness but as soon as he was away from Dazai he tended to show much calmer and kind hearted side. Also he was hot and strong. Instant fan fav.

When i said Kafka's writing problems could be seen even back then i really meant it, even then Chuuya was underutilized. Think about it. Chuuya is a part of soukoku generations. Out of Dazai, Atsushi n Akutagawa, Chuuya was the only one that didn't really get any solo development. He was pretty much something for Dazai to have in his past.

But we still loved him!

That was a wild west for Chuuya fics because the only thing we really knew was that he was Dazai's partner and that Kouyou was his mentor (and ill get to Kouyou). So basically! Anything went! I've read SO MANY fics about guessing at Chuuya's backstory (we can all remember how popular french chuuya was, and also cough cough prostitute chuuya) the fandom was just going wild it was great. I wasn't active as a write back then but one of my fav headcanons was that Chuuya was just some half feral kid Kouyou scooped off the street like 'my son now', there were some really good pieces in all of that.

More love than Kafka ever gave him thats for sure.

Because Chuuya is really really fucking strong. Not like Gojo strong, but he's up there in his own universe you know. So what does that mean? Go to the bus stop young man and sit there. Chuuya basically, god he wasn't a character if he wasn't needed for Dazai stuff. Cannibalisation was Such.A.Waste.

A little of topic but here's what i would have done with cannibalisation: so we took the guild arc to (allegedly tho honestly even this is wonky in canon) build relationships within ada and pm right? Come cannibalisation and ooop they are at each each others throats again but why? It feels like throwing a whole arc in the water. Instead of just sic'ing them at each other again wouldnt it have been more rewarding to like??? keep building??? on those reletionships??? like ada n pm being reluctant to go in another all out war with connections they made during the vs guild war??? Soukoku and shin soukoku should have lead that front! Instead we just kinda resolve to everyone fighting each other

AND CHUUYA GETS BENCHED LIKE NO OTHER

THE BOOK

THE FUCKING BOOK

UGH

Im still so angry. Remember when it happened and we were all like :D!!! WOW COOL!!! AN ULTIMATE BRAIN VS BRAWN SHOWDOWN THIS WILL BE SO AWESOME and then slowly we started to realize that...chuuya and ranpo werent coming back. It was such a fun idea everyone was excited for but it wasnt going to happen. Kafka wasnt transporting them to a new and interesting battle arena, he was escorting them out of the court because he didnt want to worry about them at the moment.

Ranpo comes out

Chuuya doesnt

and for the longest damn time it just feels like kafka completely forgot about him. No sign, no word, chapters pass.

He had one cool apperance which was admittedly really badass and disappears again woops hes a vampire now

i wasnt keeping up with bsd anymore at the vampire point but lemme tell you god i about lost it

HES A VAMPIRE NOW

HES A VAMPIRE NOW

IS HE DEAD WONT SOMEONE PLEASE TELL ME IF THAT MEANS HES DEAD????

KAFKA REALLY TOOK AWAY ONE OF THE FAN FAVORITE CHARACTERS, ONE OF THE MOST PROMISING CHARACTERS IN THE SHOW AND JUST FUCKIN TURNED HIM INTO A FYODOR HANDGUN IM LOSING MY MIND

Chuuya backstories

I was excited about Chuuya backstories i was. There were so many cool theories in the fandom i think everyone was eager to find out the canon truth.

He has a god inside of him.

He has a god inside of him.

Why?

Kafka, buddy, pal. Here's an advice from me to you. IF YOU ARE GOING TO PUT SOMETHING AS BIG AS A GOD IN YOUR STORY YOU SHOULD ESTABLISH THAT THOSE EXIST IN YOUR UNIVERSE BEFOREHAND

NOW

Now

I don't think most of the fandom disliked this take as much as i did though at that point i was pretty distant from most of the fandom cuz i really disliked what it became at the time (lets not get into THAT) BUT i blew my fuse on that

There are supernatural elements in bsd in terms of abilities right. Those seem p limited and grounded in their own way, perfectly applicable to the story. The only thing whack is lovecrafts ability but its LOVECRAFT of course hes allowed and even encouraged to be something freaky.

THAT ISNT ENOUGH TO ESTABLISH ACTUAL GODS ACTUALLY EXIST LIKE LOVECRAFT CAME OFF AS A GAG I THOUGHT IT WAS JUST THAT ONE CHARACTER CREATIVE TWIST A LIL MYSTERY IN THE WORLD BUT NO WE ARE STICKING WITH THIS WITH CHUUYA OF ALL PEOPLE HUH OKAY?

But you know what you know what i dont even care thats fine, i can live with jesus christ superstar chuuya thats fine

But then

Mother fucking Rimbaud.

Hey kafka? Why dont you just say you hate writing women huh?

So here's the thing right, heres the thing.

fifteen was about chuuya getting initiated into pm right? Remember how the only thing we knew about that is that dazai was his partner and kouyou was his mentor right? It would be natural to assume those two played a major role in that section then right?

Well Dazai at least gets to :D

KOUYOU GOT SO ROBBED

Like

MY GOD SHES HIS MENTOR

And here is where it really starts showing up for Chuuya, Kafkas tendency to, instead of exploring relationships with present characters, he just throws in new ones. We don't get to explore the relationship between Kouyou and Chuuya. Instead we get some dude literally mostly referred to as Rando-san and HE ends up being the person most responsible (aside from dazai) for getting chuuya into pm and HES the one who chuuya got his hat from which you know implies he was his mentor cuz of the handing of clothes thing and then to top it all off we get that stupid ass scene where chuuya is sitting on his grave talking to him

Kafka

buddy

I get it, i know. Dazai and Oda connection was really good, people adored that. BUT YOU CANT JUST COPY PASTE IT ON ANOTHER CHARACTER AND HOPE FOR THE SAME RESULTS YOU FUCKING HACK

At this point i dont care about bsd anymore. I stopped reading, i listen my friend talk about it but thats p much it

Stormbringer

I havent read stormbringer. I'm not going to read stormbringer. What i know about it is what can be read on the wiki and what i saw passing through my dash.

And im tired.

There is so much Chuuya backstory 2.0 could cover. His reletionship with Kouyou. Akutagawa. Black Lizard. Fuck Ive always wondered since Kouyou also mentored Kyouka did Kyouka have any sort of relationship with Chuuya.

Instead what do we get.

Another

Fucking

Group

Another fucking little group that was never ever mentioned before and that will never ever be mentioned again. Instead of exploring Chuuya's relationship with characters we know and care about, we get handed another batch of fresh out of the oven characters and we get told 'these are chuuyas friends! care about them!' NO??? I DONT???

Like would be SO hyped to explore chuuya in interaction with any of the other characters. I wrote two platonic soukoku stories, another one for Kyouyou and Aku were in plan i want this, i would read this, i would be interested in this.

But what i dont care about is seeing Chuuya bounce off of another random ass set of characters (+Dazai) who dont matter jack shit in the grand scale of things.

I'm just done! I care about Chuuya so much and i want him to be explored and well written but...god i just cant, i cant do it anymore i cant stand this vacuum worldbuilding. Chuuya doesnt seem like he has a relationship with anyone in pm aside from Dazai even tho he seems well beloved and instead of exploring those barren relationships we just get handed p much meaningless ones. That's just not how you build a character rooted firmly in your story. That's how you use a character so you have an excuse of introducing like seven more new ocs you couldnt fit anywhere else. It's exhausting. I don't know maybe stormbringer isnt like that but literally every summary i read about it sounds like that and im not about to go suffer Kafka to confirm the opposite, i'll just hole myself up with Izanyas versions of events thank you very much

[kiefbowl]

regarding alicent being hated by neckbeards (and not to sound like some Women Are Worse Actually apologist or something cause asoiaf fanboys are the worst lmao) things are not much better with the women in the fandom. i mostly move in female dominated spaces when it comes to asoiaf and it's been shocking seeing the way they've been talking about her. literally calling her every misogynistic slur under the sun 276485 times a day. and when the actress who played young alicent alluded to romantic undertones in rhaenyra and alicents relationship they went fucking feral and jumped on her saying that if actors wanted to fuck they should do it in their own time and leave the characters out of it.

it took me so much by surprise the intensity of the hatred both for the character and ship bc i can name countless villainous characters that have big fanbases?? not to mention problematic het ships ("problematic" ranging from starting as enemies to straight up shipping male abusers or groomers or pedos with female characters). they're basically treating alicent as the devil incarnate while adoring the man who took his 15 year old niece to a brothel...it's disgusting. i

was in the fandom for a while before i read fire and blood so i got into the book with preconceived notions expecting to love daemon/rhaenyra (cause he's a fan-favourite and fans are really presenting their relationship as some great love story) and hating alicent more than any asoiaf villain by the way they were talking about her. instead i was disgusted by how a male character like daemon could have stans and couldn't get what made alicent different from basically any asoiaf and got character? cause almost everyone in that universe look to save their own skin, gain power for themselves etc etc so i didn't view her as an anomaly just your run-of-the-mill antagonist??

generally liked the changes they made in her character in the show cause she was just too evil stepmothery for my taste in the book and it fell flat but the fandom was foaming at the mouth at the thought that they made her remotely sympathetic. and every time the actors/showrunners etc mentioned that alicent is a product of the patriarchy they'd be screaming about how she's the patriarchy herself and shit like that as if women who cape for the patriarchy aren't oppressed by it? it generally feels like i've time travelled s couple of decades back with the misogynistic takes ive had to read that are widely accepted in fandom . it's disturbing cause they basically switch "feminism" on and off based on whether they like s character or not and if they don't it's free estate apparently? they hate her so much that they can't even empathise with her being married off to an old man as a teenager and enduring marital rape cause apparently that would be excusing her later actions. but they'll happily joke around about daemon murdering his wife...

sorry for ranting lmao i just really wanted to discuss the show with another radfem haha

Omg girl, the takes brewing in the hotd tag on tumblr are ATROCIOUS, I'm right there with you. A week back I got an anon about Alicent where I said she hadn't become the villain yet, but had clearly turned antagonistic toward Rhaenyra. This past episode, she has clearly stepped up her villainy, and like - what about it? Her choices and feelings are completely understandable.

It truly makes me wonder what people watch stuff and read stuff for. Like what do you get out of it? If you don't find characters compelling, what's the point? If evil characters make you hate them like it's personal, perhaps you need a bit of a reality check? These people aren't real lol

I'm also absolutely bemused how angry people are getting that the showrunners are interpreting this book and creating scenes that aren't quite what the book described, because it's the point? The book is a ""history book"" intentionally playing on unreliable sources. Every scene is going to be more fleshed out and a little different, and they're going to create visual parallels within the show. These complainers would make terrible television shows

Alicent is a tragic character, and you don't have to root for her, but I don't understand not feeling sympathy for her.