#oh to not live through historically significant times

[icarusthecryptid]

Keath's storytelling through their art is amazing.

Like, look at these characters, these concepts, these pictures. Every bit of media used to convey a story. It's honestly brilliant!

I've got so much to say about it so let me ramble about the Harkers today!

Each of these represent something, which is very neat. But the way each character is dressed, is designed, looks even, it tells you something! It's brilliant. The personalities out of clothing and designs.

The Storyteller, their entire design is a story. Every accessory, every detail, every layer. It tells you so much about them! The hat that covers eyes, which I think is a fun way to show how the past doesn't look forward. Uncovered mouth, because historically stories/legends/history was passed by word of mouth because most people couldn't read. Also most of the time it was through songs too! That's so cool. There's so much going on in the Storyteller's design and clothing, the feather accessories, the plants, the straws, the clothes and dress like attachments. The shoes! There's a million details, and each says something without actually saying anything at all. For a mysterious figure, I believe the storyteller has the most that's actually being told purely from a visual perspective. There is a mystery, but the past illuminates (get it? Storyteller has a lamp hehe). Visually, the Storyteller lives up to its name so well! This is a being you'd find at the side of the road, along the crowd, on a stage, to sing of a past, to tell a story. A forgettable but unforgettable being. Too many details that will overwhelm you with implications, too many stories, but not extravagant, still rooted in the past, the basics if you will. Straws are important here, fields, the outside, nature. Straws in the past have been used for so much, bedding, isolation, food for cattle, to soften places, and clothing like hats. Multi-purpose and helpful.

Okay, next the Storyteller's significant other, the Bell-Ringer or also known as Yarrow. Who represents the future! A goat like being who wears Bell's and expensive clothing. If the future is commonly associated with good fortune, this is exactly how it should be conveyed! Not too simple and not too extravagant, there's a lot of details, but they're still rich in its simplicity. Ruffles, straight lines, horns and branches. Bell-Ringer is tall (but not the tallest), imposing, regal, a crown of golden really. Stitched patches on their cheeks, which convey a doll-like being, even as a goat. Their eyes are unique, like all goats, horizontal. To me their eyes are a way to have a unique play on future insight. And the patches on the cheeks can convey that these are untold. Yarrow is colorful, bright, imposing and even knowing. A representation of the future in such a beautiful way. Bell's also!!! Bell's are so important, Bell's have been commonly used to announce big news, important events and presently more for the time. Ringing Bells on a street corner for news, ringing Bells to herd cattle, ringing Bells to celebrate. A bell for attention, now more to great people too. It's important here, and it can have a lot of implications. Does the bell ringing mean that something important happens where the Yarrow is? The future is the sound of bells.

The last two Harkers are a bit harder for me as I'm not super sure I have seen all their details. So I'm hoping I'm getting it right and not misinterpreting what I'm seeing.

Okay! Third, let's go with the Enkindled. The Enkindled is the shortest. Its name can mean several things, like set on fire or to inspire (emotions). With a tree like being that is messy, that is wooden but small, pretty simple and not too extravagant. I believe the Enkindled has the least amount of detailing, oh there's a lot of it don't get me wrong, but clothing and accessory wise, there isn't much. But it represents a tree like being, so that makes sense. The wood that branches is detailed enough. Trees are mesmerizing enough. A truly rooted figure that doesn't need much, but still can inspire. The smallest of things can give the most ideas. A single tree can tell a story, a forest tells more. Again, I still don't know much, but what I know is that there is heart in this being, contrary to what you glean from a first glance maybe. But trees have represented so much, like family trees. But also strength, individuality and expression, calmness, growth and the interconnectedness of everything. It's the heart of it, the beginning maybe. They represent order(?) and that's reflected in their design! Trees might look chaotic, but they're ordered in a way that makes sense. Branches serve a purpose, the way they form is the most ideal path for a tree. The order in which a tree grows, withers, lives or dies.

Lastly the Croon, the tallest and most imposing looking. It has feathers and matches the design of a bird, the skull is bird-like. It's body looks like a bird's. But that's not the only animal trait, moose antlers, a crown of spikes and claw-like hands. The Croon looks the most intimidating. And its name can be interpreted as a tone of voice, crooning, sentimental humming/singing/speaking. The croon represents entropy, entropy can mean the end or decay of things. With a skull representing their head I feel that that's really well conveyed. There's a chaos to their design, but it all makes sense still especially with the concept of entropy. Where things fall into disarray or decline. The Croon looks dosserayed.

I love the way that the Harkers are themed after story aspects. The Storyteller as a name tells a story, respecting the past as most stories are retellings. The Bell-Ringer, the future, every story has one, what comes after. The Enkindled, the heart, the idea of a story, that what motivates, but also the order of it, there is a way to tell a story that makes sense of the chaos within these events that are linked. The Croon represents entropy, the chaos in a story or the ending of it, the challenge or the struggle that simply is.

If I got anything wrong please don't get angry! I'm very much still learning about the lore and details, unfortunately my brain is far more focused towards details in art than all the smart stuff everyone else seems to get 😭 and please do correct me if I'm wrong on anything!

End of the day, I just really love the amount of attention and visual storytelling that was put into Yaelokre, the art was addmitably what got me so into this all. It was the first thing that really caught my attention. The songs and the story I love them too!

Thanks for reading :D (if you're still here) and I hope if anyone else wants to share their thoughts on designs and stuff they will! I can't wait to ramble about the lark too, but my brains too tired to talk any more so I'll leave this here for now :D

Have a doodle page as compensation for sitting through this!

[averagewriter-inthedark]

It’s Been A Long, Long Time 🥀 | Fallout AU P.1

Set after the events of S1 of Fallout

Masterlists | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Characters & Pairings: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x super soldier!reader (romantic), reader x male!oc (past romance), reader x Chester Phillips (past romance), Lucy Maclean (platonic)

Content warnings: Fallout x Marvel AU, profanity, angst, mentions of death, violence, age gap (reader is physically in her 40s, Cooper in his 50s, but they are both hundreds of years old), cannon divergence, suggestive themes, strangers/enemies-to-friends-to-lovers | female!reader (she/her) | wc about 6k

Premise: When Lucy and Cooper stumbled upon the remnants of an abandoned underground facility in what used to be the Nation's capital, they are quick to explore in hopes of finding supplies and information on Vault-Tec. However, the two are in for the shock of their lives when they accidentally awaken a woman housed in a cryogenic chamber, whose historical significance can be traced back to the Second World War. Not to mention she possesses a valuable substance scientists have been eager to replicate for centuries. And after traveling for months, Cooper finds himself battling emotions he kept dormant for centuries, when they form a bond only the two former soldiers could understand. 

Note: Alright so idk how this happened but it was exactly it was the result of me hyperfixating on an idea for almost two weeks until I broke and had to get it out on paper (docs 💀) Enjoy!

———————

“What was it like?” Lucy’s voice breaks through the peaceful silence of the night. The moon was full and high in the sky. After a long day of traveling the group had finally made camp, exhausted from the day which involved a typical shootout with raiders and scavenging for information on Vault-Tec. Lucy’s voice was full of curiosity, her face illuminated by the fire as she ogled at the woman seated across from her. Elbows perched on her knees while leaning her chin on clasped hands. Only offering a raise of her brow to convey she heard Lucy’s question when the girl began to question if she did or not.

“You mean the war? Or life in general?” Came the reply, her transatlantic accent thick. The woman not taking her eyes off the fire to meet the girl’s eager stare. If any other lost soul in the Wasteland overheard the conversation they’d be quick to believe she was talking about the Great War. 

Only….it was far from it. 

“Everything,” Lucy failed at hiding her desperation, earning a warning glare from Cooper, whose ears perked up the second Lucy asked the question. The cowboy leaned against his own log off to the side of the woman. Legs crossed and hat slightly pulled down to the brim of his eyes. 

This time the woman looked at Lucy. Except she didn’t so much as move her body, only shifting her eye to glance from the side. “I thought you both read my file. And watched the tapes I recorded.”

“We did,” Lucy admitted, offering a nervous smile, “But reading about history is vastly different than when you hear it first hand from someone who lived through it. When I taught the kids in my vault they always preferred watching the holotapes rather than the books that’d been preserved. And so much from the 20th century had been lost….” her words fall short at the crossed look she received from Cooper. A warning. 

Heat rising to her cheeks, Lucy reiterated and in doing so began to ramble, “I-I mean I only ask if you’re comfortable with talking about it. Sorry I should’ve been more considerate--I know it’s a sensitive topic with-- I-I mean you just woke up not even two weeks ago to find 345 years have passed--,” Cooper was about five seconds from shutting the girl up with a tranq, looking at her like she’d grown two heads. “--and America is not how you left it. Oh God I’m being really insensitive--I am so sorry,” Lucy’s mouth snaps as the woman cuts her off with a tired sigh. 

It’s not like the woman was upset with Lucy’s question. Aware the former vault dueller had previously been a history teacher and enjoyed learning about the pre-war era, as well as the 300+ years America once was. Curiosity was natural. But one had to accept the reality that the truth was not sunshine and rainbows.

As she contemplated the next words to say, her mind traced back ten days ago. Where she awoke to a new world…or what her companions called, a wasteland.

“Well what do we have ‘ere,” Cooper’s southern drawl rang out against the walls of the elevator as he lifted the gate up to see where it had taken him and Lucy. There he was met with what appeared to be a large room connected to a hallway that seemed to go on and on. ‘Strange,’ he thought, hand hovering over his pistol. Ready for any oncoming attack.

When he and Lucy stumbled upon the rusted elevator shaft on the surface on what used to be an old military installation--not far from Vault 108, initially they believed it to be a secret vault. One Vault-Tec kept hidden and out of the public eye for God knows what. Unethical experiments. Research. Possibly to house government officials, considering it was located in good ole Washington D.C. 

Well what was left of it. 

Yeah, even America’s great capital wasn’t safe from the nukes. Leveled to bits just like the rest of the country. Kinda comical when one thinks about it. Why were they there exactly? Well, the trail to Lucy’s father and the many secrets of Vault-Tec led the two on a wild goose chase. For months until they reached the east coast where they hoped to find some answers.

However, whatever this place was, was far from the typical vaults they were used to. In fact it wasn’t a vault at all.

Stepping out of the elevator shaft, the space was pitch black making it hard to see all the facility had to offer. Not to mention if any threats were lying in wait. Cooper found the switch on his right and quickly flipped it up. Light flickering as it filled up the space and down the corridor. 

Cooper moved further in while Lucy trailed behind, eyes wide with wonder as she took in her surroundings, “woah.”

“Woah indeed…” he agreed, nudging his hat up to get a better look, “What the hell?” The bunker was definitely pre-war, but seriously dated to the point the man wouldn’t put it past it to be 20th century. Hardly ransacked---which probably was the biggest surprise. It made him wonder just how long it had been abandoned without discovery. 

Filing cabinets lined the walls, old desktop computers. Chalk boards and typewriters. Not a trace of robots. Hell there was even a Coca-Cola vending machine. Now that was a relic. Coca-cola disappeared back in 2044 when Nuka-Cola was introduced. If Cooper thought hard enough, he could still taste the original soft drink on his tongue. A sweet sweet lick of nostalgia.

Unsure where to begin, Cooper decided to start on his right by approaching the giant mural of a six-winged eagle surrounded by 50 stars. Obviously to represent the states of America. Painted below in bold red letters, S.H.I.E.L.D. 

“Shield,” he tested the word, a sense of familiarity surfacing as his brain picked at it. “Where have I heard that?” Lucy came to his side, eyes locked on the mural. Also trying to figure out what it meant. 

“Could it be some type of pre-war agency?” she wondered aloud, casting a glance at Cooper. “Like the CIA or FBI? Or a subunit of Vault-Tec” She received a hum. 

“Seems likely,” moving away, Cooper accessed the cabinet closest to him. Dust flinging in the air when the drawer was pulled, revealing a heap of carefully organized files. Grabbing the first one Cooper found the meaning behind the name, which took the air out of him. Now he understood why it sounded so familiar. It was something his once marine self had been briefed on when in basic training. 

“What is it?” Lucy questioned his dumbstruck expression. 

Shaking his head, “This ain’t the work of Vault-Tec, sweetheart,” Cooper motioned at the mural, “That ther’ anagram, it stands for the Strategic Homeland Intervention Enforcement Logistics Division.” Passing over the file to her Cooper grabbed another. “Now I know you said yer’ some history buff, but this…..you gotta be involved in some deep shit to know about this.”

Lucy read over the document, brows furrowed, “Wait, I know about this. We learned about SHIELD in the vaults, not much but the important parts--that it was a counter-terrorism intelligence organization and a successor of the Strategic Scientific Reserve from World War Two….” her eyes widened, processing what she just said. They were in a SHIELD facility?

They continued to walk the facility, rummaging through files of former persons of interests and government officials. Lucy took interest with the photographs she found. Getting a peak of life in America during the 20th and early 21st century. Meanwhile Cooper searched for useful supplies. Hoping there’d be a knife or displaced gun. 

“This is so cool,” Lucy held a sepia photo of President John F. Kennedy shaking hands with Shield co-founder Agent Peggy Carter. Beneath it was one of the Berlin Wall coming down. “I can’t believe how well these held up.” Her eyes caught a black & white picture dated in 1947 of Hollywood actresses Natalie Wood and Rita Hayworth posing with a beautiful woman who looked like she belonged with them. All smiling at the camera, but unlike the actresses the mystery woman’s smile was closed and didn’t reach her eyes. Lucy didn’t recognize her, but made a mental note to see if she could find any other information on her. Assuming she must’ve been important for the photo to end up at the SHIELD base. 

Entering a room near the end of the vast hallway, an eerie feeling came over the two. So suddenly it made Lucy’s stomach take a turn, “that’s weird.” Cooper didn’t respond but internally he felt the same. Something about the room was unpleasant. But they couldn’t put a finger on it.

Unlike the other rooms, the two had to become tech whizzes to decipher the lockbox. A rather difficult task as the technology was ancient. In their research they discovered SHIELD founded in the 1950s. Then Cooper had to think back to his history lessons in basic to remember the organization disbanded in 2014. Almost ten years before Cooper was born. 

“What happened,” Lucy questioned. 

“Rats in the system,” Cooper put it short, but upon her confused face he explained further. “They were infiltrated, early on too, by the terrorist organization they were fighting against.” 

The girl frowned, not expecting that reason and wondered just how long it had been going on. For an agency of their nature to be infiltrated by the enemy, leading to their downfall.  “That’s unfortunate,” her statement earned a sound of agreement from the cowboy. 

More cabinets. More files. More questions they wanted answers to. 

And answers they’ll…somewhat get. In the form of a 345 year old cryogenic woman…..who was SHIELD’s lost super soldier. 

Okay so it was an accident. They didn’t mean to unfreeze the woman after they stumbled upon her pod hidden beneath the floors of where the lead scientists desk laid. And no wonder it took an arm and a leg to get into the room. It was the office of the man SHIELD recruited from HYDRA. 

And he harbored a major secret. 

“Well what should we do in the meantime?” Lucy felt uneasy, staring at the pod which was in the process of defrosting. Frightened at what waited for them. If she had been asleep for as long as the person inside and woke up to a world blown to bits, Lucy’d have a meltdown. The thought alone combined with the icy temperature filling the room caused chills to rise on her arms. 

“Don’t know. Maybe try and find out who the hell this is,” Cooper suggested, moving away from the pod to see what he could find. Staring with the scientists' desk, thinking it’d be the key.

Leaning over to peer into the window, noticing the ice had slowly started to melt, Lucy’s eyes widened. “Holy moly! She’s the woman from the photo!” 

“What photo?” Cooper glanced up, eyes narrowed with suspicion. 

Lucy made a motion with her hand, “I saw a photo in the other room of a woman standing with Natalie Wood and Rita Hayworth, but I couldn’t recognize her.” She pointed to the pod, face riddled with shock. “It’s her! She’s the mystery woman in the photo.” Suddenly Lucy realized something, “That was dated 1947…..” 

Cooper caught on to what she was saying. Moving hastily to pull out files from the drawers and handing her a stack, “Well let’s try to find more about our frozen popsicle.” They got work, Lucy perching herself on the desk while Cooper remained crouching on the floor. Reading for what felt like hours of decades worth of information the scientist had on SHIELD and HYDRA. Playing the waiting game while the woman defrosted from her pod. 

“How long will it take?” Lucy plopped another file on the floor after finishing it, moving to the next. 

“Not sure,” Cooper licked his lip to turn a page, reading about the assassination of a political figure SHIELD investigated. “Could be minutes. Could be hours. Once that thing warms up, who knows how long before she wakes.”

“What a surprise she’s in for.” Cooper grumbled in agreement, making Lucy frown, deep in thought. “How do you think she’ll react?” Now usually Cooper would’ve told her enough with the questions, but he was plagued with the same thought.

How would she react? They didn’t know anything about the woman except she’d been asleep for at least 300+ years. Truthfully Cooper was expecting her to lash out. It would be the most reasonable reaction to the horrifying truth. Either that or breakdown in a heap of tears. Honestly, maybe she’ll do both.

“I don’t know, vaultie. What would you do?” That made her fall silent which he was hoping for. The two return their focus back to the files. Losing hope by the second of finding the mysterious woman. There had to be something on her in the stack. After all, she was in a cryo pod hidden in the floor. Of a mad scientist. 

About five minutes later Lucy’s amplified gasp nearly had Cooper jump, turning to find her shell-shocked at whatever lay within the file she was holding. “What is it, 33?”

“Cooper this--this doesn’t make sense,” Lucy’s eyes read furiously over the papers, astonishment in her face. Refusing to believe what the file was telling her. But the picture was clear as day. Matching the face in the pod. 

Cooper looked at her wearily, “What is it, vaultie?” 

She looked like she’d seen a ghost. “The woman in the pod,” she held the file out, still in disbelief. Lucy’s mind raced with a million questions, fearful of the answers as she pushed the papers to him, “This is her.” 

Snatching the file, Cooper gave the girl an odd once over before drawing his gaze down on the file. There he saw what she was referring to. Eyes landing first on the sepia photograph stapled on the front. It was the first time Cooper was seeing the woman since he hadn’t seen the picture Lucy mentioned earlier and was already occupied with the desk to look in the pods window. 

She was beautiful. Ethereal. A timeless beauty like many women of the 1900s with a face people would kill for. In the photo she was posing with her right shoulder out, dressed in a crisp Army uniform, Captain ranks--which Cooper recognized and gave an impressed whistle under his breath--reflecting the light of the camera flash. Hair curled typical for the time, classy makeup. The man would be lying if he said he wouldn’t do a double take in the streets if he saw her walking down. 

Then Cooper got to reading, hairless brows raising to his scarred skull and he swore his heart stopped. “Ain’t no fuckin’ way.” 

There it was clear as day. 

S.H.I.E.L.D. File #0002

Project Rebirth -- Subject xxxx-xxxx

Name: Dr. Y/n M/n Andrews (neé L/n)   DOB: XX X 1908    SSN: xxx-xx-xxxx

Birthplace: Manhattan, New York, USA    Document Citizenship: United States

Education: Doctorate of Physics, Massachusetts Institute of Technology 

Title: Advisor, Agent (formerly), soldier (formerly) Alias: Eagle

Rank: First Officer (WAAC); Captain (U.S Army)

Clearance: Level 10

Family: Captain Timothy Nile Andrews (husband--m.1933/deceased--d.1944)

Beatrice E. Andrews (daughter--b.1935), Henry T. Andrews (son--b.1939), Charlene L. Phillips (daughter--b.1949)

Howard A. Stark (Cousin)

Language(s): English, Spanish, German, Italian, Russian

Affiliation(s): MIT, Stark Industries, Strategic Scientific Reserve, United States Army, WAAC 107th Infantry Regiment, Howling Commandos, Steve Rogers--Captain America

Wars/Battles: Second World War

Cooper whistled, reading over the first page one more time before moving onto the next. A beauty and brains with a fighting heart. She was a soldier, a pretty damn good one at that with all her career accomplishments with the Army and World War Two. A genius by the looks of her contributions to physics prior to the war. 

Presidential Medal of Honor. Key to the City of Manhattan. Honorary Advisor of MIT’s Department of Physics. Contributor on many research articles and projects, including the Project Rebirth Cooper saw on the first page. His brows furrowed at the part where it said Y/n was also a Co-founder of SHIELD.

Now if that was true, then why was the woman trapped in a cryo pod? From the file alone Cooper could tell she was an important figure in American history. What had she done to earn her a one way ticket to frozen land?

Cooper’s hand stilled in the air after turning to the final page of Y/n’s file, the header in bold: Advancements to physiology following fusion of the Super Soldier Serum. “What the fuck?”

Description: After a successful transformation of implementing the Super Soldier Serum created by Dr. Erskine into the subject’s biological makeup, Dr. L/n-Andrews physiological improvements have exceeded expectations--in accordance with the results seen from Subject #0001, Steve Rogers. Dr. L/n-Andrews psychological responses lack abnormalities, cognition skills are excellent. IQ remains in the 160-179 range. Subjects’ blood tests show changes in DNA--more tests shall be conducted for further analysis. 

Attributes/Skills--before serum: Strategy, marksmanship, logistics, leadership, tradecraft, hand-to-hand combat

Attributes/Skills--after serum: Superhuman strength, enhanced agility, accelerated healing, slowed aging, enhanced immune system. 

Security threat level: high (dated 08/15/1951)

Cooper read over the file a second time. Not just to render his disbelief but also commit it to memory. He’d seen a lot of shit in his elongated life, but never did he expect he’d be dealing with a real life runaway supersoldier. 

More like a superhero.

“Cooper, what does this mean?” Lucy’s voice pulled him from his thoughts. The man glanced to find her chewing on her fingernails, anxiety all over her face.

“It means we’ve just woken up a superhuman from World War II, vaultie. Plain as day.” He kept his own concerns hidden, not willing to worry Lucy further. They’ll deal with the potential threat once she wakes up. 

Until then, they wait. 

During their search to find more on Dr. Y/n L/n-Andrews, they hit the jackpot when Cooper stumbled on a dusty box full of video tapes. Not holotapes that have been the standard since 2063. Video. Thankfully there was an old 20th century TV equipped with a VHS system. Talk about old school. 

Popping one in, labeled CA & EG Ad ‘42, Cooper claimed the seat in front of the desk while Lucy stayed in her spot. After a few seconds to allow the dinosaur television to turn on, black and white static filled the screen. Then a moment later the image became clear showing two figures they now had names to faces. Y/n L/n-Andrews & Steve Rogers. 

“Hello, America I’m Steve Rogers,” the blonde man waved, decked in his Captain America suit. Cooper made a face, not really impressed with the man attempting to be America’s sweetheart. 

Well to be fair he definitely fit the image. 

“And I’m Y/n Andrews,” the beautiful woman beamed, pearly white teeth flashing the camera. She had a strong transatlantic accent, popular of their time and heard amongst those in entertainment and high class society. A dialect teetering on the edge of half-British and half-American. Where basically the letter ‘r’ was nonexistent and vowels were elongated to make words sound more posh. Her outfit was similar to Steve’s in the sense it was obviously a tactical suit, but where his resembled the American flag, Y/n’s had the image of an eagle. “You may recognize us from the occasional radio infomercial or have seen our faces in your local recruiting office.” 

Steve pointed to the camera, “And we’re here to tell you that America needs all the help across the pond. Whether it be donating to the Red Cross or enlisting in the Army to become a proud soldier--.” 

“Don’t forget the Army Nurses Corps, Steve,” Y/n gently cut him off, still smiling and Cooper wondered if she was in pain. Relating to all the times he had to do those damn Vault-Tec ads. “They’re looking for determined, bright, exceptional ladies ready to provide our boys on the frontlines with the best care.”

“That’s right, Y/n,” Steve agreed, grinning at her briefly. The advertisement was the typical propaganda one sees during a war. Hiding the horrors, trying to get people to sign their life away to fight in something they didn’t ask for. Cooper heard it all. 

And as a former soldier and spokesperson, the bounty hunter picked up on how uncomfortable Y/n was, despite trying to hide it. Acting most definitely not her forte. The smile not reaching her eyes as well as her posture being tense. At times Cooper caught her looking past the camera where her face shifted before replacing it with the fake expression. Her demeanor screamed she wanted to be rescued. Like she’d rather get her hands dirty than being a showgirl for the American people.

Lucy scanned through the box of tapes, reading over the labels until deciding on the one marked, Debrief--Phillips, Andrews, Stark, & Carter, ‘45. What caught her attention was the first name, Phillips, it was the same last name of Y/n’s third child listed on the file. Then there was Stark, the name of her cousin. “The Second World War ended what year?” 

“Nineteen-forty-five.”

“Hmmm,” Lucy pressed play on the tv once the tape was in, moving back to her seat, but not before checking the pod. The ice had completely froze but Y/n had yet to wake up. The clock was ticking and Lucy grew nervous. Placing her attention back on the screen, “This has all the names of the people that founded SHIELD.” Cooper’s interest perked, the man straightening in the chair. Ready to put faces to names. 

“Why are you video taping this, Stark?” Peeking through the static, a feminine British voice was heard off screen sounding distressed and emotional. The camera focused on a table, where the two spotted Y/n seated while an older man in an army uniform stood beside her. Y/n appeared exhausted while the man nursed a drink. Then another woman in uniform, the one they believed had been speaking off screen, emerged and poured herself a glass of whatever the group was drinking. 

“So we have this on record,” a man’s voice, Howard Stark, entered. And based on the way the picture went wobbly, he must’ve been behind the video recorder. Adjusting the device so it remained focused on the table. Once satisfied he took his place beside the older man. Based on his ranks Cooper deemed him to be a Colonel. “Lighten up, Carter.”

“Do not tell her to lighten up,” Y/n’s tone was hard, lifting her gaze from the table to glare at her cousin before returning it. “Steve was your friend, Howard, have some respect.”

Lucy’s hand raised to her chest, right where she felt her heart sink. Overcome with a wave of sadness for the group who’d been deeply affected by what had transpired before recording the tape. Cooper understood the implication. Steve was gone.

Another detail the cowboy pieced together was the fact the older man, the Colonel, had to have been the Phillips the tape label referred to. Now that Cater was revealed to be the woman and Howard was indeed Y/n’s cousin. Meaning the Colonel was the father of Y/n’s youngest daughter. 

‘Now that’s a surprise,’ Cooper thought to himself, and based on the stunned look of his companion, Lucy thought so too. He had to have at least 20 years on Y/n.

“You don’t need to remind me,” Howard gruffed, reaching for the bottle and slamming it down roughly once his drink was poured. “But we’ve got important matters at stake right now. And we’d be letting him down--after what he sacrificed--if we waste our time wallowing instead of getting to work.”

“What important matters could you possibly be referring to?” 

“You know what,” this time the Colonel spoke, his deep voice radiating off the screen. His words caused Y/n to stiffen, slowly looking up to find him staring at her with a serious expression. “And if we don’t act fast now the feds are going to be on our doorstep quicker than a hot turkey on Thanksgiving day.”

Agent Carter's face turned dark, standing close to Y/n to lay a protective hand on her shoulder, “I think this conversation can wait, Chester. The war just ended, Y/n is still grieving her loss and--.” 

“I’m well aware and while I share her grief, I’ve got Senators calling with demands of what ought to happen now that America's super soldier is gone! We need a plan to keep them distracted.” The rest of the video mostly consisted of the group arguing with neither Lucy or Cooper able to grasp what exactly the soldiers were trying to exactly hide from the government. But based on the body language of everyone, the cowboy leading theory pointed at the doctor, and the serum coursing in her veins.

During their watch of Y/n giving a solo advertisement to recruit women to the Women’s Army Corps from 1942, they hadn’t realized how much time had passed. And although not an actress in her own light, Cooper felt himself drawn to the woman on the screen. She was enticing. The type of woman people both admired and envied. 

And with a sunken heart, Cooper related to her now more than ever. 

On their sixth tape, and evidently their last one, the duo were rather unnerved by the title. Sharing a look as Lucy took the initiative to place it in the system. 

House Committee Hearing ‘50

Lucy bit at her nails again, the skin red and irritated as she took her seat. A sickening feeling in her stomach. The anxiety was becoming unbearable, but they still had no clue when Y/n would wake up. Really they needed to form a plan, but they were too immersed in learning the woman’s history. 

“For the record today’s date is Monday the tenth of April, nineteen fifty and it is the first day of the congressional hearings on the matters of Strategic Scientific Reserve’s suspected authorization of the Super Soldier Serum on Dr. Y/n Andrews.”

Well things just got interesting. Cooper and Lucy now certain this hearing was what Chester referred to in the debrief tape. Congress had finally summoned them in regards to Y/n’s nature. 

The screen showed a man in a suit and rounded glasses seated in front of a microphone with a stack of papers. A marker reading Senator Bures placed directly in front of the mic. Other suited men sat around him with the American flag draped on the wall behind the chamber. Then the image flickered to a table. Y/n sat in between Chester and a man with a briefcase, who Cooper instantly registered as a lawyer. A gallery of people and photographers filled the space, Peggy and Howard in the front row. 

“Please state your name for the record.” The soldiers obliged and were then instructed to swear under oath. Cooper leaned forward, finger on his lips as he watched Y/n place her hand on the bible and repeat the words spoken to her. Deeply interesting on what the hearing would entail. One thing was clear: the government was threatened by Y/n. 

After some introduction questions, mostly directed to Chester and the beginning states of Project Rebirth, the attention turned to Y/n. “Dr. Andrews,” Senator Johnson spoke into his mic. “What was your initial involvement in Project Rebirth.”

Y/n leaned towards her own mic, hands clasped on the table. “I was a collaborator on the project alongside Dr. Erskine. As Colonel Phillips stated, he recruited my cousin and I in 1942 and I worked closely with Dr. Erskine because of my work on radiation physics.” Cooper and Lucy shared another glance. Y/n specialized in radiation physics? 

“How exactly does radiation physics play into the serum, Doctor?”

“We were working with particles, Senator. Particles with high speed energy and electromagnetic waves,” her tone was calm, neutral. Not given any indication she was under pressure and reporting like the scientist she was. “Dr. Erskine’s serum was, at its core, radioactive. It completely changed the biological makeup of the recipient. In our case, Captain Rogers. My role was to observe and record the effects of the serum on the human body. Specifically the level of radiation.” 

They asked a few more questions about Y/n’s work. Including her reports on the serum and its effect on Steve Rogers. Then it got to the whole reason they were having the hearing; did Y/n inject herself with the serum?

Now Lucy and Cooper obviously knew the truth. She was a supersoldier and fought on the frontlines. The file didn’t lie. The question was if the government knew as well. And by the looks of it, they didn’t. 

“Doctor, we have reason to believe you and members of the SSR conducted an unauthorized demonstration in which you, Dr. Andrews, underwent the transformation of injecting the super soldier into your bloodstream on the 22nd of August 1943.” Murmurs in the background suggested the audience were hearing it for the first time. Minus of course Howard and Peggy, who visibly stiffened behind Y/n.

Y/I head tilted up in defiance, “Your evidence?” Her voice was strong, confident. Cooper felt himself captivated by the way she commanded the room. 

“Doctor,” Senator Franz, removed his glasses. “It was reported all remaining vials of the super soldier serum were destroyed following Mr. Rogers demonstration.”

“That is correct.”

“A witness, who wishes to remain anonymous, has come forward saying that on the 22nd of August 1943, you, your late husband Captain Timothy Andrews, Colonel Phililps, Captain Rogers, Agent Carter, and Mr. Stark were seen in a restricted area for approximately three hours. They say you were carrying a briefcase and upon leaving the restricted area, your physicality had changed. Care to explain?” 

Y/n, again, was neutral, “To put it simply, Senator, we were having a meeting discussing Captain Rogers and I’s unit, the Howling Commandos. In the briefcase were maps and strategy plans to analyze. Nothing more, so I do not understand why this witness has assumed we even possessed a vial of the serum when all were destroyed in 1942.” 

The men didn’t look convinced, “That’s what we want to know. And it is not only this witness, Doctor, several soldiers who were on the frontlines claim you displayed unusual strength at times.”

“Well forgive me for saying this,” she was now smiling, but it wasn’t genuine at all, “but men refuse to believe women are capable of certain areas, strength for example, that are expected of them. It’s already enough for my intellect to be questioned,” Straightening her posture, Y/n went on to say, “Gentlemen, I was not only a doctor for the SSR, I was also a soldier. Therefore I trained like one--which my late husband and Captain Rogers were kind enough to assist me with. What that witness saw was my progress.” Cooper couldn’t help the amazed laugh that slipped out.

“Is she…” Lucy pointed to the screen, also astonished, “gaslighting the government?”

“She damn sure is,” Cooper laughed again. The balls this woman had rivaled some of the producers and agents he’d worked with in Hollywood. 

As the tape rolled on more back and forth happened between Y/n and the senators. They’d attempt to invalidate her story, she’d rebuff with the perfect response. Dismissing their claims and providing evidence of her own to counter it. Chester and the lawyer were asked questions as well, backing up Y/n which strengthened their side. 

It was a heated debate. One that lasted nearly an hour and had started to run its course. Congress was starting to lose the upper hand. And the defense was becoming exhausted. 

“Before we adjourn this hearing there is one last thing I have to say,” the room was eerily silent, the senators voice carrying throughout the space. Cooper saw the frustration in his face. Wondering where the hell he and his fellow chamber members got it all wrong. “We may not have all the evidence to convict you and the rest of SHIELD’s founders of anything today, but make no mistake,” His glare was stern, threatening. “We will be watching. And if we find the slightest confirmation, Doctor, that you are carrying the super soldier serum, you will be locked in a military prison for the rest of your life and subjected to experimentation.”

Y/n remained quiet, the threat lingering in the room as her gaze never wavered from the man. Movement from the side indicated Chester likely placing a hand on the woman, offering a comforting hand. “Understood,” the tone in her voice was impartial. “You may have your suspicions and conduct your investigations, but the truth of what took place in August of 1942 was laid before you today. America had their super soldier and he sacrificed himself to put an end to Hydra once and for all. My role was nothing more than a doctor devoted to research, and a soldier committed to ending the war. I assure you, Senators,” her eyes were full of fire, chin high with confidence. Refusing to let the men hold power over the situation. It was a chilling sight, sending a shiver down Cooper’s spine, “The super soldier serum died with Captain Rogers.”

Closing remarks were given and they were dismissed shortly after. By the time the static rolled, signaling the end of the tape, Cooper and Lucy were at a loss for words. Both in disbelief, and turning to each other with matching horrified expressions. Asking themselves the same question.

Did the government find out it was all a lie? Is that why she was in the pod--to be a science experiment for the rest of her life?

The theory made sense. A terrifying one that had a pit of disgust forming in the duo, but not surprising at the same time considering the government proved time and time again they were cruel. 

Well people in power in general. Take Vault-Tec for example. Who accumulated so much power they blew up America.

Lucy went to remove the tape, throwing it back in the pile before turning back to Cooper to figure out their options now they were dealing with not only a super soldier, but possibly a former government fugitive who underwent God knows what in her captivity. 

But before she even got a word out, Lucy became frighteningly still, eyes bulging from their sockets. The color drained in her face as she looked past Cooper’s shoulder, a choked sound leaving her mouth while it went slack. And before Cooper could ask the reason for her sudden behavior, a new voice entered the picture, causing the already chill atmosphere to become icy. 

“Who the hell are you people?”

[weirdplutoprince]

What is Brazil like? What are your favorite things about it, least favorite things, and some day to day experiences that people not from there might not know about? Do you have any tidbits of culture you find interesting or are fond of?

Oh that's a big question! First of all it's huge lol. Unsure how accurate this specific map is, but if you google 'Brazil size' you find a dozen of these 'which countries fit in each states of Brazil' maps, so.

This is particularly relevant to everything I answer further ahead, because since it is so big and so culturally complex anything I say is just going to be a tiny speck compared to different regions.

And besides its size, Brazil had a lot going on colonization and immigration wise - meaning you have regions that have very notable communities from certain countries of the world. A famous example is that, if I recall correctly, we have the biggest japanese settlement of sorts outside of Japan. So that's something!

A funny side effect I can think that relates to this is that in historical novelas (live action television series that air daily and are known for melodrama and intensity) there is always a character that can be roughly described as 'The Sexy Irrevent Italian Immigrant' which is funny lol.

As for my favourite things I think the culinary is definetely a big one!!! There are so many dishes and they are so delicious all the time forever.

Brigadeiros are my favourites from all times, they're this candy made of condensed milk and chocolate powder, thats finished off with sprinkles. It's so yummy, you can also make it into cake filling and a million different things.

I also love Acarajé!! I think properly explaining what they're made off is a bit beyond my english vocabulary but just know its a fried dough that has yummy fillings and shrimp.

Otherwise I think I also like how warm and friendly people are. There's also this humour in how things are handled and seem which I think it's nice. Again, this is a perception I get from the region I live in, so I'm not sure. Though this is something people here tend to complain about when they go to other countries, so I guess it is at least some sort of significant cultural difference!

Least favourite things are the ever present fear of impeding violence and the blatant social inequality.

Day to day things hmmm. I have no parameter for how it goes out there, but I've heard enough stories that indicate this might be a thing: showering multiple times a day lol. I'm from a hot place so there is that, but this does seem to be a cultural thing as well. Like, I've heard of landlords from other countries complaining of brazilians that use 'too much hot water' because we shower a lot.

Just caring about cleaness a lot in general. Like, again I'm not sure which of these things are cultural outliners but from what I've heard, even things like. You go out, as soon as you go home you take off the 'going out clothes' and shower. And you avoid sitting on the bed sheets with 'going out clothes' etc.

Another thing is that is is very culturally acceptable to be late! To the point where being on time is at times more awkward. Like, say, if a party is said to start at 7 PM, people generally arrive closer to 8PM. I can remember a few birthdays I'd attended as a child where if you arrived 'on time' you'd basically be the only guest present and there would be this awkward air of 'Why Are You Already Here'.

I've also heard we say things we don't mean more? Like half heartedely making plans to go out with a friend or be there a certain day - but its kinda expected that neither side will follow through unless you constantly check up with each other during the days leading to it. I think this steems from a general need to be pleasant and friendly so people don't want to say they won't go or just outright refuse things without coming up with excuses etc.

And at last for tidbits of culture: CHILDREN BIRTHDAY PARTIES FUCKING RULE!!! HARD!!! Even if you're middle class or such it is not uncommon for parties to have trampolines, magicians, clowns, children entertainers etc. A shit ton of decoration, little gifts for the guests to take home (usually cheap toys or candy), themed birthday invitations, themed parties with decorated pannels, a shit ton of candy etc. There's even this sorta common agreement that even if you're bored because you'll be the only adult there, it is fun to attend children birthday parties because you'll eat like a king.

I think thats it!!! I hope that answers it! Thanks for the question :3

[uniquexusposts]

Her || Charles

Main characters: Charles Leclerc x OC Genre: fanfiction, fluff  Story type: novel  Part: 23/? Word count: 4190 Co writer: @mistrose23

Story summary: Matilde Jørgensen, the new Scuderia Ferrari team principal, faced the nerve-wracking challenge of reviving the team's fortunes and aiming for a championship. Leading a historic team as a 'newbie' and separating her work and personal opinions posed a significant challenge. The big question: is she capable to do so?

Previous chapter

Chapter 21. Monday-weekend-debrief

The bell rang. Matilde looked up from her book, questioning who it could be. She got up from the sofa and made her way to the cottage's front door. It couldn't be her father, because his flight was delayed. Could it be Jens, who missed his flight after all? She opened the door, still holding the book in her hand, her index finger between the pages as a temporary bookmark.

"Hey," Charles smiled.

"Hi," Matilde said, slightly confused how he got here. It was not like she had shared her address, or asked him to be here. Oh, wait, she thought, she had shared the address for the team, for emergencies, to Charles. And define emergencies as sending gifts since many people wanted to send her flowers or small gifts.

"Fan mail," he mentioned, when he saw Matilde eyeing the two big shoppers filled with letters and gifts. "I got permission from Ferrari to drop it off."

"Oh, right. Come in," she smiled and stepped away from the door.

Charles entered the cottage and walked towards the living room. "How are you doing?" He put the two bags on the ground and looked curious at Matilde.

She put a bookmark between the book and put it away. She crossed her arms in front of her chest and slowly nodded. "Fine," she replied. "Not like my old self, but it's getting better."

"That is good to hear." He looked around. "Are you alone?"

She nodded. "Yup," she said.

"Where's your brother?"

"Back home. He needed to go back to work," she responded, removing the clip from her hair. Her curly hair fell over her shoulders.

Charles' eyes scanned her hair. Curls? He couldn't help but admire the curls framing her face. "Curls suit you," he commented, a genuine smile playing on his lips but still a hint of surprise in his voice. He hadn't seen it before; she had never worn her hair like this.

"Yeah," she softly chuckled, running her fingers through her curls. For a split second, she forgot that her hair was not styled yet, nor blown out. She didn't have the energy to straighten it, but she also didn't expect someone to visit her. "This is my natural hair." She looked away. Hopefully, he wouldn't think it was ugly.

His eyes softened as he watched her; she was shy. "It looks beautiful."

"Thanks," she replied, feeling a warmth in her cheeks.

They stood there for a moment, a comfortable silence settling between them. Charles scratched the back of his neck, and Matilde looked at the clock on the wall, reading the time.

"I would have asked you to open the fanmail with me, but I have an appointment at the hospital in an hour," Matilde said and plastered a small smile on her face.

"No worries," Charles said, glancing at the bags. "I'm sure you'll enjoy reading them. And hey, if you want some company for that or anything else, just let me know."

She nodded, appreciating the offer. "I might take you up on that. The company, I mean."

A careful grin grew on his face. "Looking forward to it. Now, I should probably get going. I don't want to keep you from your appointment."

She walked him to the door and unlocked her phone simultaneously. "I'm going to call a taxi," she mumbled to herself. She looked up at him. "Thanks for bringing the fan mail."

"Yes, of course," he replied and smiled warmly. "But call a taxi? Are you going alone to the hospital?"

"Yeah. I don't have anyone to come with me, and I'm not cleared to drive yet." Matilde's dad would join her to the hospital, but his flight got delayed to the evening. Jens was on his way back to Denmark, and her mother was working. And everyone else who could possibly join her wasn't available.

Charles looked at his watch. "If you want, I can drive you to the hospital."

Matilde hesitated for a moment, considering the offer. The warmth in his eyes was genuine, and she appreciated the kindness he had shown since their talk after the fight. "Are you sure?"

"Yes. Otherwise, I wouldn't offer it, Matilde," he smiled.

"Oh, yes, right." She pointed behind her. "I'm going to get my purse and keys, and then we can leave."

"Take your time."

Charles followed her inside the cottage and sat on the couch while Matilde was getting ready. He looked around, it was a cosy cottage - definitely something Matilde would rent. He picked up the book she was reading: it was a novel written by Jørn Lier Horst, that was all he could read because the book was in Danish. It was an attempt, but an attempt he knew would fail.

"I was thinking," Charles then mentioned. "I'm here with the Ferrari. I think it's too uncomfortable for you to sit in?" He looked at her as she put some things in her bag. "It's a low seat."

"You're with the Ferrari," she smirked and teased him with it.

They made eye contact, and they both smiled.

"We can go with my car. I'm here with the Volvo," she replied. "I'm ready to go."

He nodded and got up. "I like your outfit," he complimented. Matilde was wearing white straight-leg jeans and a dark grey T-shirt. She was known to wear quite casual outfits at the office. Charles would call it casual chic, but now he saw Matilde dressing fully casual. "It's different from the office outfits."

"That's because I'm not at the office," she smirked and then the smirk turned into a genuine smile. "But thank you."

They left the cottage and walked to the car park. As they approached her car, he opened the passenger door for Matilde, a small gesture that didn't go unnoticed. She got in, and Charles closed the door before heading to the driver's side.

"I finally got used to the English cars, and now I'm driving in an... Can I call this an Italian car?" He tried to wave the moment of the door away, hoping she wouldn't find it awkward.

"Swedish," she corrected him. "Even though it is wearing an Italian plate."

"I see."

During the drive, the conversation flowed naturally. Charles updated Matilde on the results of the Grand Prix; Max won, Charles became fourth, and Carlos was fifth. According to Charles, it was a tough race with weird incidents and decisions from the FIA. Matilde listened carefully since she hadn't watched the race yet, nor did she read any updates. During the conversation, Matilde got a call from her father, so she answered it. Charles hadn't heard her speak Danish often, it was quite an interesting language to him.

"You know, you sound different when speaking Danish," Charles commented when the call was over.

"Really?" Matilde replied and put her phone down. A smile was resting on her face.

"Yeah," he shrugged and entered the hospital's car park. "Danish is a weird language to hear, in my perspective. It changes your voice."

"Same goes for you," she chuckled. "In French and Italian. And English, of course."

"As in?"

She shrugged. "Whenever I hear people speak French, it's so cool, classy and chic. Also romantic. I don't know why. I have no idea what is being said, but it's cool."

"Romantique," he repeated in a cheesy tone. "Ohlala." He smirked when he saw Matilde's side eye in the corner of his eyes. "So you think I'm cool, classy and chic when I speak French?" Charles teased and drove around for a free parking spot.

"It's an electric car, by the way. It needs to be charged," Matilde briefly mentioned, changing the topic. She felt her cheeks heating up.

Charles shared a sarcastic smile with her. "I thought that we were driving with a Ferrari engine."

She snorted. "Oh, shut it." She looked in the mirrors when Charles was parking the car, making sure he was parking right and did no damage to her car. She felt like a driving instructor, but she knew better. Matilde had seen compilation videos of Charles parking his car in Monaco and at race tracks, and she wondered how he had gotten his driver's license.

They left the car, plugged in the charger and approached the hospital entrance.

"But I... Why are you not driving a Ferrari?" Charles then asked. Volvo also wasn't a partner brand of Ferrari, so it didn't make sense to him. Matilde stopped walking. Her eyebrows raised. Charles stopped walking as well, looking behind him. "What?"

"You know, Charles, that is an expensive question only rich people would ask," she said and continued walking beside him. Charles straightened his face. "I'm kidding," she smiled. "I still have to pick it up, I suppose."

"Now, that is an expensive answer only rich people would say."

"Oh, stop it." Matilde felt her cheeks heat up. "No, I don't know. Galileo once mentioned that I could register to pick up the car, but I honestly never did. And yes, this is my own car, I bought it myself, I had to donate a kidney for it because it's still expensive. Plus, I wanted to drive electric - I know, weird thing to do while working in the most polluting sport, but every small thing counts. And do you see me drive a Ferrari? I don't."

Their conversation flowed, each word drawing them deeper into a connection outside their work relationship. Meanwhile, hospital staff and visitors passed by, some giving them curious glances, but the two paid little attention to their surroundings.

"Hmm, true. You're not the kind of person to drive a Ferrari - no offence. You are too... down to earth for it," he responded, glancing at Matilde. "But... Wait. I'm only now realising that you drive to every European race."

"Even the smallest things help," she smiled.

It wasn't until Matilde reached the reception desk of the right department that she finally noticed Charles was still beside her. She turned to him, tilting her head. At first, Charles looked confused and questionable at her for sharing the look. Then his eyes widened, and he formed an 'O' with his lips.

"Oh, my god," he whispered. "Sorry, I had just no clue that I walked into the hospital with you," he apologised.

"It's fine, no worries. Neither did I, though."

"I can leave, I'll wait in the car."

"No, it's okay. You can stay here and wait in the waiting room." Matilde looked away from him to the nurse behind the reception. She shared some details and got asked to have a seat in the waiting area until the doctor was ready to see her. 

Charles followed Matilde to the waiting area. As they settled into the chairs, the atmosphere took on a different tone. The surroundings were a stark reminder of the hospital environment and the hushed conversations. He looked around and noticed a few couples, but also families. No one was alone, everyone had someone with them. The conversation between him and Matilde came to a halt. Being at the hospital wasn't Charles' favourite spot and he only started to feel the hospital surroundings pressing on his shoulders when he sat down. He got pretty distracted by the conversation, but now he got confronted with the space.

He looked beside him; Matilde had the same thing. He noticed the subtle shift in her presence. It was like she was covering her nerves during the entire ride, or she got distracted, but now, got confronted with the hospital and her appointment. They were ten minutes early, but within those ten minutes, Matilde changed from a casual mood to the nerves.

Matilde took a deep breath and blew the air out her nose. Her leg was bouncing now, and it intensified over the seconds.

Charles looked at the bouncy leg; he had never seen Matilde so nervous and fragile simultaneously. At work, she barely showed any emotions. Of course, she did show emotions, but always for other people and stayed professional. And the nerves? No one had ever seen them on her. When something was going on with herself, she didn't show it and kept it for herself. This weekend was the first time he saw how gentle she actually was, that she's keeping up an act at work as a professional. Charles placed his hand on her bouncy leg, hoping she would stop bouncing it.

"Sorry," she whispered. "I'm just nervous."

"It's okay," he whispered back.

She grabbed his hand and held it. "I just don't like this place, and I'm just scared that I will go home and basically die."

"Wha- How?" Charles was curious, because Matilde had spent a few days in the hospital and if something were wrong, she would have known it by now. Or something else was going on.

"Bad news."

He scanned her face. "Hey, I'm sure everything is fine. If there were something wrong, then they wouldn't have let you go Saturday."

As they shared a glance, someone called Matilde's name. Her heart skipped a beat.

Charles gave a soft squeeze to her hand. "Good luck. You got this."

She took a deep breath and got up, letting go of Charles' hand. She looked at him and nodded. "Okay, thanks," she said with a half-smile. And with that, she walked away.

He watched her retreating figure, a mix of concern and support in his voice. As Matilde disappeared into the consultation room, Charles was alone. Again. He leaned back in the chair, grabbed his phone, scrolling through his social media to kill some time.

As the minutes ticked by, Charles found himself growing increasingly relentless. He glanced at his watch, realising Matilde had been in the consultation room longer than expected. And he saw nurses entering and leaving the room. He looked down, again, being confronted with his feelings and his behaviour. Why was he anxious?

Finally, the door of the room swung open. Matilde was shaking the doctor's hand and stepping outside. Her expression was a mix of relief and exhaustion. Charles immediately got up and walked towards her. Without realising, he reached for her hand. "How did it go?"

"Good," Matilde replied and smiled with relief. "Stressed about absolutely nothing."

"That's good to hear," he replied, also relieved. He assumed the conversation was about appendicitis.

"Yes," she responded and stepped away, pulling his hand with her. Even though everything was okay, she wanted to leave the hospital and go home as quickly as possible. "Do you mind if I?" Matilde held up her phone.

''No, please, go ahead."

As they walked through the hospital, Matilde recorded a voice memo for her family, sending a quick update. Charles, again, listened to the Danish words. It was an impressive language. Just a minute later, they left the hospital and entered the car park. They had to pay for it, so Matilde insisted on paying since it was her appointment and her car. She released his hand and paid for it.

"When I almost collapsed on Thursday, they weren't sure if it was appendicitis or an inflammation of the ovaries," Matilde shared. "They share the same symptoms." She watched how Charles unplugged the car, and they stepped in. "I had appendicitis, but they still wanted to do some more exams since cancer runs in my family. Every test came back negative, luckily, but I still have to get examined once a year to be sure."

He looked at her; he hadn't asked for it, and she still shared it. His face softened; it felt like they had moved to the next stage: from work relations to a personal relationship. They both opened up to each other. "That's positive news, Matilde." His tone was gentle, appreciating the trust she had.

"I was so scared they would find something," she said, running her hands through her hair. "It was appendicitis, but the fact that they had to check for cancer."

"Yeah, I understand," he quietly said. "But now you know that you don't have cancer and that you're healing well."

"That's true."

Charles started the car, and he drove away. During the ride home, it was silent. Charles noticed how tired Matilde was and that this drive back to the cottage was too much for her - she acted bigger than she actually was. Every bump, stop and turn made her feel more uncomfortable in the car. Charles tried to drive as gently and carefully as possible. At first he didn't see why Matilde couldn't work from home, but now he saw how her body was recovering and how tired she was.

The car was parked close to the cottage an hour later. Charles shut off the engine and looked at the woman next to him; her eyes were closed. "Matilde."

Her eyes shot open right away, and she looked around. "Are we there yet?"

"Yes, we are," he softly chuckled. He got out of the car and waited for Matilde to step out so he could lock the car. He handed the car key over to Matilde. "It was a pleasure to drive in your car."

"Now I can say that a F1 driver drove in my car," she managed to joke.

A smirk left his mouth. "Oh, my god," he playfully said.

"Thank you for coming with me," Matilde thankfully said, her eyes meeting Charles' eyes with a mix of gratitude and vulnerability.

"Of course, no need to thank me." With a small smile, he lifted his arm, subtly inviting her into an embrace. To his relief, Matilde mirrored the gesture, stepping closer to him.

As their bodies came together, Matilde's arms found their way around his torso. Charles wrapped his arms around her shoulders. They both felt that it wasn't just a casual hug. It was more than a mere display of comfort; it was a moment of shared vulnerability, and a hint of something more. Matilde's face softened as she felt his arms around her, it was like she was feeling...protected. Oh, no, wrong thoughts. But she needed a good hug.

Eventually, they pulled away, their eyes meeting in a silent exchange of understanding. Charles offered a genuine smile. The hug, brief yet intimate, spoke volumes about what they had forged in the face of uncertainty.

Then, a car approached them. Matilde and Charles both looked at the driver: Kevin Magnussen. Matilde looked at Charles, and he looked at her, both realising that he might have seen the hug.

Charles knew it was time to go. "Take care, Matilde."

"You too, Charles."

As he walked away, Matilde realised something. "Wait, Charles." He turned around. "In the second drawer of my desk, at the office, there's a golden box. In the box I have birthday cards of everyone whose birthday it is this month. I can't be at the office, so...uhm... Can you please take care of it? Or explain it to Galileo?"

Charles' face softened and his eyebrows raised in surprise; she really cared about her people. "Yes, of course," he smiled.

"I wrote their birthdays and departments on a post-it on the envelope. I usually just put it on their desk or their workstation."

He nodded. "I will take care of it, don't worry. You rest well, and we will keep in touch. And we will see each other soon."

At that moment, Kevin walked by. His eyes shot from Charles to Matilde. "Hej," he said to Matilde.

"Hej," Matilde said, surprised. She waited until Charles drove by so she could wave at him. Once Charles drove away, she turned back to Kevin. "Velkommen."

"Tak," Kevin replied. He noticed that she didn't expect him. "Lars send me here, to check on you."

Matilde smirked and rolled her eyes. "Of course." They walked to the cottage. She couldn't shake off the awareness of the brief yet intimate hug she had shared with Charles. A part of her wondered if Kevin had noticed, given the awkward exchange of glances when he approached. "Well, I'm okay. Just came back from the hospital."

"With Charles?" Kevin raised an eyebrow.

"He only drove me to the hospital. I went to my appointment alone."

"Uhu," he hummed and grinned. "First, he acts like a dick, then you fight, and now he's driving you to the hospital."

"And you are saying what exactly?" Matilde opened the door of the cottage.

Kevin closed the door behind him. "Nothing."

"You sound just like Jens. Honestly, this feels like a changing of the guard: first Jens, then Charles, you, and later this day, my dad. I can take care of myself perfectly fine." Matilde sat down on the couch and placed her bag on the floor next to it.

"Uhu," he hummed again. "Well, when I saw Charles stepping out of your car, I worried he might do something. Especially after last week."

"We talked about it," she replied. "And we made up."

He squinted his eyes and slowly nodded. He walked to the sofa and sat down across from her. "How did the appointment go?"

For a moment, Matilde considered asking about the interrogation Kevin probably had to do from Lars, but she noticed some genuine concern and interest in her situation and well-being. "Fine," she replied. "They had to check my ovaries. At first, they weren't sure if i had appendicitis or an inflammation of my ovaries, the symptoms are almost the same. And because ovarian cancer runs in my family, they just wanted to be sure, besides appendicitis, that I didn't have any cancer cells in my body," she told him. "My grandmother had cancer in her ovaries; my mother prevented it by removing her uterus, as well as ovaries and everything that has to do with it. And just to be sure, I got tested and must return every year for a check."

"So I assume you don't have cancer?"

"Nope, nor do I have an appendix anymore."

Kevin raised his eyebrows. "Fuck, Matilde. That's heavy." He was hiding his emotions for Matilde, but he felt relieved since his own mother had to deal with this type of cancer. He knew the effect of it. "And you, how are you?"

"That's life," she casually replied. "But I'm fine, all good," she smiled.

"Well, I'm glad to hear that." He smiled and then looked at her hair. "I didn't know you had curly hair."

"Surprise," she responded. "I hate it, so this is definitely the last time you will ever see me like this." She tenderly touched her curls.

"But your family doesn't have curly hair?"

"The mother of my grandmother. It skipped an entire generation, including my brothers, and I am the only one with curly hair in the family."

"Ha," he said surprisingly. "Weird, but it suits you, and it's pretty."

"Hmm, tak." She looked at him. "Why did Lars send you here?"

Kevin threw his hands up in the air. "You tell me."

"And you just listen to him, follow his orders and check on me?" An amusing smile lay on her face. "What will you put in the report?"

For a moment, he didn't know what to say. Mainly because he noticed the similarities between her and Lars. "You and Lars have the same humour," he shared. "Lars is worried, and Jens didn't say much." He saw Matilde raise his eyebrow. "And I'm also worried, so I wanted to see how you were doing. Besides, I've read and heard all these fucked up rumours. What the fuck were they thinking? Burnout, stress, miscarriage? That's rude."

"Guess the news about F1 was too boring so they made me the main character of the weekend," Matilde added and snorted. "But serious question: why is everyone so overprotective? I mean, I really appreciate that you showed up, don't take this personally, but do you know what I mean?"

"People care about you," Kevin concluded. "And a lot has happened this year already. It's normal for people to check on you," he shrugged. "And you're in England, far from home and..."

"Hmm," she hummed. "Fair," she breathed. "But still. I really appreciated it, though."

"Of course. That's what friends do." Kevin grabbed his phone. "Laura and Ottie made something for you." He handed over his phone.

Matilde grabbed the phone and looked at the photo; Laura, Kevin's daughter, and Ottie, Lars' daughter and Matilde's little niece, were posing with a drawing. It was hard to describe what the meaning of it was, but it was beautiful. A smile covered her face.

"They had to make a drawing for Tante Matilde. They wanted to give it to you once you are back, but they couldn't wait for you to see it."

Her face softened. "That's so sweet, and cute. Tak." She smiled. "It's beautiful. Very artsy." She handed back the phone. "Shit, I have to call Ottie. We always have our Monday-weekend-debrief. Three years old and already debriefing every race." She licked her lips. "I will call another time."

"She will understand it, don't worry."

"Lars will make sure she will understand it," Matilde smirked.

Kevin nodded and chuckled. "Can I make you some tea or coffee?" Kevin got up and walked towards the kitchen.

"Oh, god, sorry, I forgot to ask if you wanted something to drink," she stammered.

"See, this is why I'm here." He was opening some cabinets to find a glass. "Well?"

"Tea, and a glass of water, please. I will balance the warmth and the cold on this warm day."

Next chapter

Taglist: @itsjustkhaos @crashingwavesofeuphoria @maryvibess @chocolatefartstrawberry @snzleclerc @ironmaiden1313

[cecilysass]

Shine On (15/16)

Read on AO3 | Tagging @today-in-fic

Chapter 15: Walled Garden

Farrs Corner, Virginia February 25, 2015 Ten minutes later

Jackson and Rose burst back into the kitchen, both pink-cheeked and sweaty, and promptly start chugging glasses of water. Mulder’s back at work with the crowbar, and Scully decides to make herself useful and start sweeping up some of the wood chips on the floor.

“We ran five miles,” Jackson announces to them.

“Pretty far,” comments Mulder.

“I don’t think I’ve ever run five miles before. It’s a personal record.”

“That’s amazing,” Scully replies back encouragingly. She can’t help but watch Rose out of the corner of her eye. She’s holding the cool glass of water to her cheek, watching the rest of them.

“We went a different route than yesterday. There’s this really pretty stream near here with a path, and we followed the path for a while.”

Mulder and Scully both nod knowingly. “Yeah, that’s a good run,” Mulder says. “I’ve done it many times.”

“We saw the ruins of an old mill from the 1800s,” Jackson says, walking over to Mulder and Scully with his glass of water. “I made Rose stop and read the historical marker. Didn’t I?”

“Yep,” Rose answers him, a small, subdued smile.

“Almost nothing in Wyoming was built in the 1800s,” Jackson says. “Things in Virgina are old.” Some kind of lightbulb goes on in his mind. “Wasn’t George Washington from Virginia? Can we go see where he lived?” He stops abruptly and looks down. “Does this house have, uh, termites or something?” He’s staring at the pile of wood chips at Scully’s feet.

“Just some mold,” Mulder says. “Don’t worry. We’re getting rid of it.”

Jackson looks at the pile analytically. “Mold can get in anywhere. I read an article.”

“What are your plans today, Rose?” Scully asks, changing the subject.

“Well,” Rose licks her lips, rotating the glass in her hand. “I need to go home at some point, back to Maryland. I have a few things I need to take care of.”

Jackson is bending his leg in a hamstring stretch, wobbling a little for balance. “But you’ll come back, right?”

Scully and Mulder’s eyes both dart over to Rose, interested in her answer, too.

“Yes.” Rose peers back at Jackson through the glass, her image refracted. “Of course I will. When I can.”

Jackson seems to remember something and drops his stretch suddenly. “Oh hey, Mulder.” He swivels to face Mulder, suddenly all energy again. “Rose said that Clifton, Virginia isn’t very far from here.”

Mulder looks at him curiously. “No. It’s about ten minutes. Why?”

“That’s where the Bunny Man Bridge is. Where the ghost of the Bunny Man haunts people every Halloween? I read about it in that book you have about the ghosts of Virginia.”

“Yeah,” Mulder says, an irresistible smile. “That’s right—it is. The bridge is over Colchester Road.”

“Is the Bunny Man real? Have you seen him?”

“I haven’t actually gone over to check it out,” Mulder says. “I’ve been out of the monster business.” He throws Scully a begrudging look. “And to be honest, that story seems sort of along the lines of an … urban legend.”

Scully raises her eyebrows with cool significance, but Mulder avoids her gaze.

“Can we go see the bridge?” Jackson asks, leaning into another stretch. “Before I go home?” He stops, furrows his brow. “I mean—not home. Wherever I’m going next.”

“Sure, we can drive by,” Mulder says, upbeat, putting his hand on Jackson’s shoulder. “What else is in that book? I wonder how many of those ghosts Scully and I investigated before.”

“It’s upstairs in my room,” Jackson says.

“Let’s go get it,” Mulder suggests. And Scully suspects he adds something else privately to Jackson in his mind, too, because Jackson immediately glances between her and Rose.

“Yeah,” Jackson agrees.

That’s quite the dynamic, Scully thinks wistfully, watching as they bound up the stairs after one another. Identical gaits, she notes. Consciousness entangled. She wonders if she’ll ever be able to separate out her envy from her joy.

“I know exactly what you mean,” Rose says in a voice so quiet Scully could almost miss it.

Scully leans her broom against the door. She’s still unsettled by having thoughts so transparent, but she wants to take it more in stride. This is what having telepath children must be like. She lifts her chin, armor up, and turns to take in the young woman across the room.

“Are you envious, Rose?” she asks casually. “Of Jackson?”

Rose lifts a shoulder. “Maybe a little.” Her eyes begin to roam around the room. “He’s lost his parents, same as I did, but he’s found this, too.” She gestures around her with her hand. “I knew a long time ago I wasn’t going to have anything like this.”

Scully feels herself frown. She doesn’t understand this kind of statement, and it hurts her in ways she can’t even pinpoint. “Rose,” she asks, “do you mind if I ask you questions about your past?”

The young woman had been leaning against Mulder’s desk, but she stands up instantly, like she’s prepared. “No, of course not.”

“Good, because I’ve been wondering…” Scully takes some uncertain steps towards her. “You knew where we were for years.” She hesitates. “But …you never contacted me.”

Rose doesn’t bat an eyelash. Strong and straight. “No, I didn’t.”

Scully blinks in confusion. She can’t really help it; her whole world is bifurcated when she looks at Rose. In one jagged half: this young woman, standing impassive like a warrior—reminding her of her father the sea captain, reminding her of herself. In the other: the memory of a tiny child, crouched over playing, bangs and shy eyes, reminding her of Melissa, reminding her of innocent lives lost.

Somehow she has to hold this together, make these two broken pieces make sense.

“Why didn’t you?” Scully says, and her voice wobbles. “Were you… angry with me?”

Rose’s stoic expression flickers a little. “No,” she says. “Why would I be angry? I liked you. I knew that… if I let you know I was alive, you’d want to see me.”

“Then why?” Scully’s vision is blurring a little, but she blinks the tears back determinedly. She doesn’t want to cry right now. She wants to think logically enough to understand.

Rose walks across the room to Mulder’s small dining room table and sits down with her glass of water. She bends her knees to sit in the chair with her legs criss crossed. This makes her seem younger, like the very young woman she is. Like someone who should be going on spring break trips and taking Physics 201, Scully thinks. Like someone who should be putting her hair up in messy buns and pulling all nighters and getting drunk with friends.

All of that seems to have nothing to do with this strange, remote girl.

Scully trails like a ghost and sinks down in the chair across from her, staring wordlessly, waiting.

“You know already that I’m not the same as Jackson,” Rose explains kindly, her eyes wide and serious. “He’s all yours. Genetically he’s entirely derived from you and Mulder. In a relatively normal, human way.”

“So you couldn’t come live with me … because Mulder isn’t your biological father?”

“No, no,” Rose says, shaking her head firmly. “I couldn’t live with you because no one is my biological father.”

Scully sucks in a breath slowly.

“You saw—the cyst on my neck, right? The toxic blood? When I was little?”

Scully nods without speaking.

“I’m dangerous to humans, Dana,” Rose says. Her gaze does not waver, her eyes like a calm sea. “It’s just the truth. Not just the blood. Other things, too.”

“You wouldn’t have been dangerous to me,” Scully says in a fierce voice before she can stop herself. “I could have taken care of you. I would have known what to do.”

“How could you have known?” Rose smiles sadly. “No one knows everything about what we are. We’re something new. Not entirely human, not entirely inhuman. We’re still discovering things about ourselves.” Her smile fades. “And truthfully, it’s not only that we’re dangerous to humans—it’s also that they can sometimes be dangerous to us.”

“I would have protected you. Mulder and I would have protected you. I was prepared for that.”

“You would have tried. I know you would have,” Rose concedes, looking down. She takes a drink of her glass of water. Her eyes spring back onto Scully. “But how long would it have been before you ended up like the Sims? Like the Van De Kamps? When they explained that to me, that risk… I couldn’t see it happen.”

“Who explained that to you?” Scully asks, suddenly on alert. “How old were you?”

Rose looks away evasively. “The group I’m with, the Walled Garden, that’s the whole point of what we do—we’re all products of the hybrid program. We’re the same. We protect one another. We take care of one another. It’s how it should be.”

“The Walled Garden,” repeats Scully.

“Yes.”

“The group that was trying to kill Jackson. The group that actually did murder his parents.” Scully emphasizes each word carefully, hoping it will penetrate. “Take care of one another? Protect each other? How can you trust people who would do that?”

“I don’t trust all of them,” Rose replies defensively, lifting her chin. “There are dangerous elements within the organization. There always have been. We’ve had to be so secretive, and sometimes, in the name of keeping secrets, some of us have done … too much. Gone too far. Like with Jackson.”

Scully realizes her own hands are trembling. Everything inside of her is crying out to tell Rose: this is what evil organizations always say, this is how they always begin. Keeping secrets justifies all manner of unjustifiable acts.

“They’re my family,” Rose says in a different, more vulnerable voice. She looks at Scully like she wants something. “The only people who are really like me on the planet.”

“That’s not true. There’s Jackson.”

Rose smiles weakly. “Yeah. You’re right. Apparently there’s Jackson.” She taps her dark red fingernails lightly on the table. “Which is… interesting.”

Scully says nothing, concentrating on blinking rapidly, holding back the tears again.

“Really, despite its flaws, the organization has so much good in it. We have the best interests of humanity at heart,” Rose says. “We really do. We’ve saved humanity before. It’s our ultimate goal.”

That’s what the Syndicate said, too, Scully thinks bitterly. That’s exactly what they said. But Rose’s eyes are round and earnest, and Scully sees she won’t be able to make a convincing case against the Walled Garden. Not right now. Not without evidence.

She can deploy persuasive arguments against ideas, but not against family. You can’t use logic when it comes to family.

“But that’s exactly it,” Rose argues abruptly, placing her palms flat on the surface of the table. “You can use logic when it comes to family. You have to use your head sometimes to protect your family, even when it isn’t what your heart might want.” She leans forward, speaking intently. “You know that, Dana. You, of all people, know that.”

Scully feels her lip trembling. This isn’t a lesson she would ever, ever want to impart.

“Understand that I wanted to see you,” Rose says urgently. “When I was little especially. Little kids want to have moms. But I … had to protect you. Just like you had to protect Jackson. Don’t you see that?”

There is a moment of silence, except for the clock ticking in Mulder’s kitchen. Scully shifts uneasily in her chair.

What can you say to that? Scully thinks. What can you say to mistakes made out of love, even mistakes that leave such scars?

She reaches out across the table and firmly takes Rose’s hands in her own.

“Do they listen to you?” Scully asks purposefully. “The leadership of the Walled Garden? Do you have their respect and trust?”

Rose hesitates before answering. “For the most part … usually. Yes.”

Scully’s eyes narrow. She takes in the line of Rose’s determined chin, the tiny crease between her eyebrows. Scully exhales heavily. “Okay,” she says. “Okay. I understand.”

Rose’s shoulders immediately fall in relief. “I’m so glad,” she breathes, her eyes shining. “I’m really happy. I wanted you to understand that it’s not like … I didn’t care.”

“We’ll get to see you more regularly now, right?” Scully asks tremulously. “You won’t vanish from our lives? I would like to … I would like to see you.”

Rose nods tightly. “You should know there will be risks,” she says. “It’s not entirely safe for us to have a relationship.”

“That’s fine,” Scully promises, tightening her hold on Rose’s hands. “We can deal with that. Please don’t worry about that.”

“I want to see you, too.” Rose’s voice is suddenly high. In Scully’s bifurcated vision she sees both the woman clasping her hands and the little girl on the floor coloring. Two in one, the same.

“Do you definitely have to go home today?” Scully asks. “You’re sure you can’t stay and have dinner?”

“I do,” Rose nods. “There’s something important to take care of. And I need to go back and check in—or they’ll worry.”

Scully nods somberly, not sure what to say to that. Her lip twitches involuntarily, thinking about the Walled Garden, about the many questions she has about where Rose lives, how she spends her days. Would she ever be able to see Rose’s accommodations? Would she ever be welcome there? Does Rose work or go to school?

“I should probably get going soon, actually,” Rose says, beginning to stand up from the table. “My car is parked about a mile away. I should start–”

“Rose, the Walled Garden operatives who came after Jackson,” Scully interrupts without stopping to think.

Rose freezes where she is. “Yes?”

“They mentioned that there were those in the organization who viewed Mulder and me as their flesh and blood.”

“Yes,” Rose says, nodding slowly.

“But Mulder isn’t related biologically to you.”

“No.”

“Yet they included him in that statement.”

“Like I told Mulder, most of the hybrids don’t have living family.”

“Most.” Scully feels her stomach knot.

“There are … a few others that do. Besides me.”

She considers her words for a heavy beat. Mulder must have thought of this, too. Scully knows he must have. Maybe he’s protected himself from thinking too much directly about it.

“The agricultural clones,” Scully guesses. “They are some of the hybrids that have family, too?”

Rose nods shortly. “One agricultural clone specifically,” she says.

Scully wonders if there’s some part of Mulder deep in denial that has kept him from asking Rose questions about this.

But she knows there’s a more important part of him that will, someday, want to know. That part of him that refuses to let things go. The dogged, loyal, ever-faithful part that puts family first, that never gave up on fixing things in their relationship, that always wanted to make things right with William, that set in his sights finding his sister for all those years.

It might be the very best part of Mulder. The part that made her fall in love with him. The part that went dormant when he was most depressed, and that had brought him back to life again recently.

When he’s had a chance to really think about this agriculture clone, Scully doesn't think that he’ll let go of hope where she’s concerned either.

“This clone. Does she… know she has family?”

“She does,” Rose says. “But … I don’t know what the idea of family means to her. The agricultural clones were raised differently than I was, you know. She’s older than me, but she didn’t have language until later in life.”

“What does she … what does she call herself?”

“Molly,” Rose says. She tilts her head. “Come to think of it, I think she chose it as a variant of her original’s last name. So maybe family does mean something to her.”

“I imagine Mulder might want to meet her someday.”

Scully remembers, for a moment, Mulder wanting a bigger house. More guest rooms.

Rose nods soberly. “I’ll mention it to her. See what she says.” She looks around at the kitchen, at the breakfast dishes, at the framed photos of Mulder’s parents. “Family definitely means something to Mulder, doesn’t it?”

Scully smiles. “Like it does to you.”

“I guess that’s right.”

“All those years,” Scully says wonderingly. “Were you happy? Were you loved?”

Rose’s eyes grow distant, as though she is replaying the events of the past to come to a decision on her answer.

“In some ways I was happy,” she says. “In some ways I was loved.” She pauses. “In some ways I was … neither.”

She begins to walk away, and Scully thinks to herself that she may never stop having questions for her. She may have to start making lists.

But suddenly Rose stops, and turns around halfway, speaking thoughtfully. “I think I did know what it was to love. To have that feeling ... directed towards someone else.”

She starts walking again, and her next words are almost to herself. “I’ll always be grateful to you and Jackson for that.”

***

[ofliterarynature]

APRIL 2024 WRAP UP

[loved liked ok nope dnf (reread) bookclub*]

Death in the Spires • Heartstopper Vol 4 • Heartstopper Vol 3 • To Marry an English Lord • The True Queen • (Heartstopper Vol 2) • Fun Home* • (Arabella of Mars) • I’m Glad My Mom Died • (Sorcerer to the Crown) • And Then There Were None • Vassa in the Night • Queen of the Night • The Other Significant Others • Most Ardently • The Reformatory • The Book of Love

Read: 14 (10 audio, 4 print, 3 DNF)

The Other Significant Others (5 stars)- I've been anticipating this one ever since I first heard about it and it didn't disappoint! Not only does it tell the stories of people in close, non-traditional relationships, it also talks about marriage, raising kids, and aging, and it was all incredible. I've recommended this in the tags of so many posts and I need y'all to read it.

Queen of the Night (3 stars) - I've heard this glowingly recommended. I liked the author's story in the Sword, Stone, Table anthology. The events in the book are incredible! I should have been fascinated! But I was so bored! Part of it was that the mystery/thriller element in the description - someone has written an opera based on the main character's scandalous secret past, who could it be? - was extremely oversold, most of the book is recounting said past events, and we don't really dive into the present mystery until the very end. I've read similarly slow books so I don't know why I didn't like this, but I wish I'd dnf'd it. I'd recommend you try The God of Endings by Jacqueline Holland instead.

Vassa in the Night (4 stars) - this one surprised me! It's YA, I've heard pretty mixed reviews, and it's been sitting on my shelf for a while - starting it, the VERy in-your-face YAness almost threw me off but I'm very glad I stuck through it. I live for magic and fairy tales being dumped into modern times, and the really smart thing about this book is that it keeps a very tight focus (no space for the larger worldbuilding to fall apart lol). We've got a morally-grey magical doll companion who's a kleptomaniac and will eat you out of house and home, Baba-Yaga and her 24-hour convenience store on chicken feet, her disembodied hand assistants, weird guy on a motorcycle, and oh yeah, if they catch you stealing they'll put your head on display (and they're not above framing you to do it). Yes this is perfectly normal, why do you ask? I'm not saying it's perfect, but I had such a good time!

And Then There Were None (4 stars) - my first real attempt at Christie! I did enjoy listening to this, enough that I think I'll try some other Christie, but it wasn't entirely to my taste. I prefer having a detective figure in the story to follow, and the "reveal" after was disappointing.

Sorcerer to the Crown (3.5 stars) - this was a reread, and I definitely liked it a lot less for some reason this time? Maybe it was changing formats, but I love a historical fantasy romp and this should have been right up my alley! The True Queen (4 stars) was much more enjoyable, so maybe it was the characters, maybe it was the rereading itself. I think this might be my sign to call it quits with Zen Cho.

I'm Glad My Mom Died (4 stars) - this isn't really one I think I'd have ever picked for myself even though it got popular, except that my book-club friend recommended it. I'm finding that I'm not really one for memoirs, but despite the heartbreaking contents this was very easy to read - largely chronological with short chapters, and the author is clearly aware that things were bad even when her younger self did not. I accidentally started this when I was also reading Fun Home, so that was a lot of bad-parent-memoir at the same time, oops.

Fun Home: A Family Tragicomic (4 stars) - I've been eying this one for a while and am glad to have gotten it on the list for book club! Deeply fascinating, if not always an easy read - the subject on one hand, but the density of the pages, the differences between the comic panels and the narration outside them, and the jumping through time that memoirs do sometimes made events hard to follow. I admit my favorite parts were seeing the different queer books Bechdel slipped into her illustrations (one that I'm reading right now even!).

Arabella of Mars (4.5 stars) - Y'all, we are sleeping on this book, I had so much fun! Here's to girls dressing as boys, sailing ships, steampunk space travel, and vibes straight from early sci-fi adventure novels. I can't believe I forgot about this and am just glad I picked up a copy at the library sale to make myself reread it. I do apologize for thinking this was YA (which it isn't), but further thoughts on that and the rest of the series will have to wait for next month.

Heartstopper Vol 2-4 (5/5/4 stars) - finally! I read part of the comic online ages ago, and read Vol 1 for book club the other month, but I finally got started on the rest of the series. I had definitely read through Vol 2 previously, but everything else was new to me. I had a good time, but Vol 4 was a bit of a(n expected!) downer, and the time jump in the middle ruined the flow a bit for me. I do have Vol 5 in my hands currently, and if I didn't have so many other things to do I'd be tempted to do a big Alice Oseman re/read.

To Marry an English Lord (4 stars) - I encountered this at not one, but TWO unrelated book sales before I caved and bought it. I enjoyed it! It's mostly a sort of overview/reference covering the period around the Gilded Age - the New York upper crust, the European Aristocracy, and the various societal events that lead to a pattern of marital exchange. Did I skim the bits where it just listed name after name after name? Yes, but! Highly recommend to anyone reading romances or general fiction set in the period, I really wish I'd read this before trying The Age of Innocence! (its also very funny how occasionally it makes references that make it very obvious it was written in the 80's lol). Pairs incredibly well with another book I bought at the same sale, The Divorce Colony by April White.

Death in the Spires (3.5 stars) - I love KJ Charles, but I've often felt that her plots and romances can sometimes be at odds - so I was very excited when she said she'd written a mystery! But I'm lukewarm about it at best. The campus novel portions were fascinating, and I'd have loved more of them. But Jem as our narrator just wasn't engaging for most of the book. I wouldn't say it's his fault necessarily, but he's not really a good detective, there are either no clues or they're just going in circles, and the promised attempts on his life just aren't happening. Once we hit the 2/3 mark, where we're on campus, have more characters together, and they're talking - that's when things got good! Maybe this will be be better on a reread, but for now my hopes are for some good fanfic. Would recommend more to the dark academia people rather than mystery fans.

DNF

Most Ardently (20%) - the vibes were very much, "here's my blorbos, I'm putting them in a Pride and Prejudice AU." Which is great, if that's what you want! It was not what I wanted alas. Biggest cons, the de-ageing of the characters and the generally modern YA/queerness. Pros, they did keep all of the other Bennet sisters! I was so tempted to keep reading just to see how Oliver and Darcy got together, but I knew I wasn't going to enjoy myself. Would have loved to see this presented as an original work rather than an adaptation, or as something hewing closer to the original tone and period of the novel.

The Reformatory (43%) - this was good, really! It's just that I'm only so-so on horror on my best days, and both story lines were sad and dark and depressing. I could have probably handled one or the other, but I wasn't really having a good time (that's not the right phrasing exactly, but you know what I mean). I had other things I wanted to read and it was a long book.

The Book of Love (6%) - I've heard multiple people sing the praises of Kelly Link, so while I wasn't really drawn by the description, I thought I'd give it a shot! I did, and it still didn't draw me in. Maybe I'll give it a try again someday, but I think I'll try her short fiction first.

[max1461]

Blocked. Well here's the response I typed:

[T]he idea that the Japanese leadership didn't even respond to the bombings is verifiably false and complete nonsense

Oh yeah, that's not true at all. The Emperor's response speech, broadcast by radio, is super famous. I assume what they heard and are exaggerating here is that the Japanese leadership was weirdly slow to respond to the bombing. But obviously that's not the same thing.

The general "vibe" of the remainder of the screenshot is "far more confident about a variety of heavily debated points than is possibly warranted

Yeah, agreed.

Anyway, the sense in which I think the comment is a "significant exaggeration of a basically correct general idea" is that there were a number of significant factors that lead Japan to surrender when they did, and while I don't know exactly what was said in the back rooms, I think that with the US and Japan already going back and forth on surrender terms, the Soviets declaring war on Japan, and the absolutely desperate position Japan was already in, the idea that the war would have gone on significantly longer without the bombs is hard for me to believe. Not to mention that the US had the probable opportunity to end the war earlier by offering slightly different surrender terms (ensuring protection for the Emperor, something they ultimately did anyway), but for highly debated reasons they did not want to offer such terms in writing.

So the upshot is, IMO, something like "usage of the bombs was probably pretty avoidable, most narratives justifying their use are ahistorical, and through it's difficult to say exactly what would have happened if they weren't used, the idea that they saved lives on net is just as unjustified as the idea that they killed people on net". So the conclusion that they "definitely didn't do anything" is a significant exaggeration of the accurate notion that they "probably did nothing or very little that could not have been accomplished through other means, and furthermore all plausible reasons to conclude that they were justified which are extant in the historical record are so weak that we cannot even say their use was morally reasonable at the time".

[ineffable-rohese]

Oh hey, I've gotten a few followers/mutuals, so I guess it's time for a pinned intro post?

Demographic info (because it gives context to my words): Early 40s white fat cis queer poly pagan woman living in the wet corner of North America. My nearest and dearest are almost all trans/non-binary.

Personal (public facing): I'm an Aziraphale-coded hobbit. Like, so cozy and wholesome you might want to puke. I rewatch just the first disc of the LOTR extended edition because I love the Shire so much. I drink Earl Grey with milk and one sugar. (Or a good scotch, cause every Aziraphale needs a little bit of Crowley inside them, right Sheenie?) I read mainly historical fiction, especially anything set in (actual, not fantasy) medieval Europe and I was at one point a medieval music history nerd. I wear cozy sweaters. I love rain on ferns and April flowers. I make soup with things I've tended and harvested. I work a Wholesome AF job. I unironically hug trees. I'm in love with the world.

Personal (in private): I'm deeply kinky. I'm primarily a Sensual Sadist with a significant Dominant streak. I often play as a Panther. I love consensual violence, and get great joy from hurting people who want me to hurt them. I've only really given myself permission to be that in the last year or so.

Fandoms: I fell in love with Good Omens in 2000 when a college roommate gave it to me. It was genuinely the funniest, greatest thing I had ever read, and I evangelized about it to anyone who would listen. S1 of the show immediately became a comfort show, and it got me through a time of massive loss and upheaval. I put it on when everything was too hard and I needed something that made me feel like everything was going to be OK. S2 - well we're all here still, aren't we? It dropped when I desperately needed One Good Thing for my brain to latch on to as I got through some intense pressure, and boy howdy did it lodge itself in me.

Other fandoms in roughly chronological order: Star Wars (original trilogy made me a child nerd), X-Files (first real social fandom, and intro to fanfic!), Buffy/Angel/Firefly, LOTR, Doctor Who, Torchwood (the only other show I've been driven to write fic for), Sherlock to an extent. OFMD and WWDITS are great fun, though not obsessions.

My Writing: Writing Index Here I'm really enjoying writing right now! I don't know how long this ADHD hyperfocus will last, but I'll take it while it lasts. My goal in writing is to challenge myself, create things I'd want to read, and have fun with it (for a definition of fun).

I'm also definitely working on being comfortable expressing the things I like and want and being unashamed about that. I worry too much about how my 😈 side might reflect on my 😇 side, and honestly, these shades of grey lovelies are helping me with that a lot. It's probably why I love writing Dom Aziraphale so much, because he is just so sweet and good and bright, and also a toppy BAMF who can make demons (and their Bentleys) do whatever he wants and wields a flaming sword against Satan himself.

So yeah, every time I make Aziraphale go to a dark place, and then come back again to being a ball of delight, it's helping me create a map that allows me to do the same (to a, you know, more reasonable extent). And when others read and like the things that come from the darkest corners of my brain, it makes me feel seen.

Anyway, you made it this far. Here are my cats for tax. Yes, I have one of each of the Kinds of Cats.

[wuxiaphoenix]

Worldbuilding: Isekai Problems

A fellow ficwriter gave me a piece of isekai advice I think holds up. That being, if you want your character to pull something from the modern/other world into their current one, first write down everything you remember about how it was done. Use that for the basis of “isekai’d protagonist knows X.”

Then research the heck out of it and find all the other problems/ missing info that will inevitably crop up when someone tries to actually do it.

One example, drawn off what I plan to be writing into Colors? Vaccination to handle smallpox.

IRL, the original vaccination - infecting people with the vaccinia, cowpox virus, instead of variolation - was a massive improvement in public health and safety. For two main reasons.

First, variolation, while providing a good lifetime immunity for those who survived it, had a small but significant kill percentage; sometimes two percent or more. It’s better odds than the thirty-percent-and-up dead of catching full-on smallpox, but would you want to gamble that you were going to be in the forty-nine out of fifty? That your child would be?

Second - variolation infected you with smallpox. Meaning you, in turn, would be infectious. It was possible to start an epidemic by uninfected people coming into contact with people still going through their own fever. This, in fact, was historically why Benjamin Franklin came down against variolation unless some kind of public funds were made available to treat everybody. Because those with the means to do so would get variolated, go about their business while still contagious, and, well....

Vaccination avoided both of these. It almost never killed people, and if other people caught cowpox from you (which wasn’t easy), well, pox marks on the hands, no biggie. Short of being able to genetically engineer a smallpox virus into near-harmlessness, vaccination is the way to go. And with the Little Ice Age being a time of new and nastier strains of smallpox rocketing around the world, if you’re a guy from a potential future dropped into the mess, introducing this bit of future medical tech is a high priority. The life you save may be your own!

OTOH Jason knows just enough to know there’s a Problem with that. Vaccination works, yes... against milder smallpox. Historically, against some of the nastier strains in East Asia, what was used was the likewise nastier (but still rarely lethal) camelpox, instead. So. Find some camels. There are Mongols, there will be camels. Though then you have to figure out how to identify camelpox and how to best apply it....

There is, however, a stumbling block that Jason would not know about, given he’s an expert on Tokugawa Era Japan in specific and the Little Ice Age for fun. One I happened to trip over doing my research on Nurhaci for when I eventually get into his effects on plot.

Mongols of the time were terrified of smallpox.

Ming Dynasty China and other nations that held them as a model (Korea and Japan in particular) knew about and used variolation. They still had smallpox epidemics, but they tried. Mongols, living a nomadic herding life and not in large infection-prone cities, tended to avoid casual exposure that ran through cities... meaning they were incredibly healthy, until someone stumbled in with a case, and then a lot of them were incredibly dead.

The fear of smallpox was such that rumors of an infection loose in an area actually derailed several Jurchen/Manchu military maneuvers when they were trying to conquer the Ming Dynasty. Oh, they conquered it all eventually. But many, many tactical strikes were distinctly blunted just by rumors of smallpox anywhere nearby.

So. Ponder this. Ponder, now, trying to ask the people who keep camels if they’ve got any mildly sick ones, because you plan to use this to stave off smallpox - yes, the same way those dishonorable Chinese farmer guys use variolation...

...That’s not even getting into the difficulties of a real public health/mass vaccination campaign. Yikes.

Well, if they didn’t tackle the hard jobs, our characters wouldn’t be heroes, would they?

[blowflyfag]

WRESTLING EYE: APRIL 1993

AN INSIDER’S VIEW OF THE WWF-USWA MERGE

BY STEVE MUELLER

On August 9, 1992, the wrestling world changed. It changed not with a bang, but with a challenge. It changed in a manner that may, one day, restructure the entire way professional wrestling is promoted in America. In some ways, the change was as significant as the national Football League agreeing to face the American Football League in a Super Bowl. 

On that date, the World Wrestling Federation officially recognized the existence of a wrestling promotion other than itself. Oh, during the past couple of years, there head been some cracks in the WWF rigid policy of not recognizing the existence of other pro wrestling organizations. For example, Ric Flair came into the promotion with the NWA world title belt in tow and calling himself the “real World Champion.” But the official beginning of the new WWF philosophy did indeed begin on August 9.

That date saw Jeff Jarret, son of USWA promoter Jerry Jarret and one of that promotion’s top attractions, leap a barricade at a WWF event to challenge then WWF Intercontinental Champion Bret Hart to a title match. Hart accepted the challenge and a new era dawned. 

Allegedly because Hart would lose the Intercontinental strap to the British Bulldog at SummerSlam in ‘92, the match never took place. But that fact is inconsequential because the WWF and USWA entered into an historic “working agreement.” For the first time since the Vince McMahon, Jr., era began in 1984, the WWF promoted cards on which non-WWF wrestlers appeared. Additionally, some WWF wrestlers and personalities began appearing on USWA cards. 

What does this all mean? How will it effect the future of wrestling in America? Is this a trend, the start of things to come, or just an aberration. Good questions that need answers. WRESTLING EYE will try to supply them. 

What follows is an attempt by the crack WRESTLING EYE editorial staff to analyze these dramatic events. The entire development will be broken down into its component parts. Opinions of experts will be reviewed. Logical conclusions and suppositions will be formulated. 

[Hacksaw Jim Duggan was one of the WWF wrestlers chosen to compete in the USWA.]

THE PLAYERS

VINCE McMAHON

World Wrestling Federation head honcho, alleged marketing genius, and supreme commander of the universe, at least the WWF slice of it, Vince McMahon is the prime mover in this story. Vince was the first promoter to successfully take a wrestling promotion national, and, love him or hate him, he remains the world champion of wrestling promoters with no serious challengers for his crown in sight. 

McMahon has been called by some a serpentine, cut-throat businessman with an ego the size of Montana, by others a genius with his own code of honor and a great love for the wrestling business. Whatever the reality may be, he is one of the most influential and complex men ever to be involved with the mat sport. 

JERRY JARRET

Owner/operator of the United States Wrestling Association, based in Tennessee. His longtime top attraction is Jerry “the King” Lawler, perhaps the greatest all-around star in the history of southern wrestling. (Lawler has a significant role in this growing saga. That role will be discussed later.)

[Many feel that the Rock ‘n Roll Express would be an excellent addition to the WWF –Photo by Cohen.]

According to Jim Cornette, wrestling greatest living manager, in an interview in the “Pro Wrestling Torch” newsletter, “Jerry Jarret is one the shrewdest businessman in wrestling. I have never known him to come up on the short end of a business deal.” 

[Jeff Gaylord could be a competent replacement for the Ultimate Warrior. –Photo by Wilson]

Earlier this year, Jarret was trying to set-up a working relationship with World Championship Wrestling. That deal fell through. It appears this one will not. 

OVERVIEW

The exact nature of this “working relationship” has yet to be revealed or determined. It seems to be a work in progress. Rumors have claimed everything from the USWA becoming a kind of minor league for the WWF to the whole deal being an elaborate scheme by Vince McMahon to take over Memphis wrestling. However, why Vince McMahon would want to do that is not clear at this time. Especially in view of the wrestling depression that is currently gripping America. One thing Vince does not need is more empty arenas. 

This “working agreement” has advantages for both promotions. The USWA gets WWF stars to appear on its shows. The WWF saves travel money by using USWA wrestlers to fill up spots on cards run in the South. And then, on December 7, the WWF got a lot more. It got Jerry Lawler. 

[Jeff Jarrett has challenged Bret Hart.]

WRESTLERS AND PERSONALITIES

Jerry Lawler’s move to the WWF is significant on many levels. Lawler, called the Hulk Hogan of the South, debuted on the December 7 edition of “Prime Time” on the USA network. Lawler is a great ring worker, but even more importantly, he is one of the best communicators in the history of the sport. His great all-around ability is reflected in his amazing accomplishments. Without working for a major promotion for any length of time, Lawler has over the last 15 years been one of the most influential men in the sport. He even parlayed a feud with late comic Andy Kaufman into appearances on the David Letterman Show and sold out houses in the Mid-South Coliseum.

[Can you imagine the havoc the Moondogs would wreak in the WWF?]

Jeff Jarret has also been wrestling successfully in opening matches on WWF cards not only in the south, but across America. Additionally, many WWF stars have appeared at USWA events including Jimmy “Mouth of the South” Hart, southern wrestling managerial legend, Sergeant Slaughter, Hacksaw Jim Duggan, and the Bushwackers. 

WHAT LIES AHEAD?

Experts say the huge egos of McMahon and Jarret can’t co-exist very long. Others say that the McMahon/Jarret alliance is the first stage of a new way to promote wrestling in America. These experts say that it is alliance born out of necessity. The WWF needs a developing ground for new talent and USWA needs nationally known personalities on its cards to foster credibility in the minds of casual fans. And more importantly, it needs these recognizable stars to get those casual fans to buy tickets for USWA events.

[The WWF-USWA merge could produce some interesting match ups.]

The editorial staff at WRESTLING EYE,, after careful evaluation and extensive study, believe that this alliance is indeed the start of a new era in professional wrestling. As proof, we point to the recently announced alliance between World Championship Wrestling and Smokey Mountain Wrestling. We further believe that these alliances will help pro wrestling overcome its current popularity slump. New faces and developing talent are exactly what the majors need to rekindle interest in the sport. 

[gallavich-headcanon]

anon, dear, i hope you're doing good! i might be in the brain goo - still, bear with me on the being comprehensible part -, but a) you asked for headcanons and b) you're my favourite person to contemplate with, so you'll be my victim tonight-

so, i know you've said somewhere you're not a big fan of time pieces, BUT-

i've read a lot (like. A LOT.) of medieval-ish things the last couple days and spotify graced me with a shitton of ukrainian music today, and now all i can think about is this tradition they got in ukraine in july where they gather around a fire, take their loved ones by the hand, and if they stay locked while jumping over the fire they they'll have a long and happy relationship (bonus: you can do this with friends for health and good fortune, too). they have this other thing, too, where the unmarried women bind wildflowers to wreaths, then set them on a river or pond or whatever to see who'll get married soon (if your wreath flows without problems and moves a bit it's you), and their significant others try to guess which wreath is their girl's and they tryna fish it out-

and listen, listen, i KNOW it probably doesn't make much sense, and i have not thought this through 'till the end, but i need irish ian to somehow end up in ukraine and in the hands and care of mandy, who tries to teach him their ways and their language, because he's kind and sweet, too - and maybe she first hopes he's her wildcard out of her life until she gets to know he's gay? -, and somehow she gets mickey involved in her little social project and she tries very hard to make him be nice to ian, long story short, they all go to the festivities together, get a little drunk maybe and do their little traditions. while it's a rite for the women, i bet mandy'd force him to bind a wreath, still. and maybe she already knows there's something going on between him and her brother and she schemes some more to make mickey fish ian's out of the water, i don't know, my brain doesn't cooperate properly.

bonus lore- iirc they have this magic flower they set out to search at some point, too, as it's said to grant its finder some sort of power, so, just please, mickey and ian having an excuse to disappear in the woods for hours without anybody asking questions.

i only just now realised it's actually a full on au, but i'll send it over anyway, because it's juvenile and mostly lighthearted and i needed to bother someone with it. much love! thanksokaybye.

Hello my darling! My brain is also gooey possibly because it's late though. Perfect time to be your victim of choice!

Disclaimer- I don't really have anything about historical stories, it's just the homophobia of it all, you know? Like I enjoy some angst as much as the next person, but knowing they can't get married and will have to live partially in secret if not in the closet just... spoils it for me. I'm a comfort first, angst second kinda girl, but I also don't want it to be completely unrealistic. (also I need Mickey to be a southside shit talker) So I tend to skip those fics. now that that's out of the way, I'm ready for yours!

FIRST OF ALL I am a sucker for Mickey speaking Ukrainian. I really wish we got that in canon. AND IAN TRYING TO LEARN THAT FOR HIM 💔💔💔💔

they gather around a fire, take their loved ones by the hand, and if they stay locked while jumping over the fire they they'll have a long and happy relationship -> oh my god are you kidding me this sounds so fucking magical!

Okay what if Ian is like injured or something and Mandy finds him, and hides him until he can get better and Mickey is suspicious and follows her one day?

and maybe she already knows there's something going on between him and her brother and she schemes some more to make mickey fish ian's out of the water -> mmm how about yes yes and yes!!!

This is so fucking sweet. I want Ian in a flower crown Mandy made him! and maybe it's too small to his giant head and his looks funny and Mickey teases him and eventually that flower crown mysteriously finds it's way to Mickey's head. because that's what flower crowns do.

Them just walking in the forest and talking for hours. Maybe they find a job for Ian that gets them to hang out and Mickey teaches him Ukrainian?

NOSHO please send any and all AU / thoughts / headcanons always and forever!

[mysterycharacterflowers]

A bouquet of red spider lillies, forget-me-nots, purple hyacinth, deadly nightshades and white lillies VS Ornithogalum

First, let's talk about the bouquet of red spider lilies, forget-me-nots, purple hyacinth, deadly nightshades and white lilies

Why these flowers were chosen and their meaning: Spider lillies: Death, final goodbyes etc. Often used in funerals and grown around cemeteries. | Forget-me-nots: self-explanatory, but also a symbol of true love. Which in this case is subverted. | Purple hyacinth: deep sorrow, regret and a desire for forgiveness. I think this one's particularly interesting because it doesn't symbolize her directly but is, rather, very strongly tied to the impact her death had. | Deadly nightshade: also self-explanatory. Symbolises betrayal. In addition -- a plant that's (both in her universe and ours) historically been used for its poisonous properties. | White lillies: purity of the departed, when talking about death. Also for white of snow. Four out of five flowers here are a popular choice for funerals/are associated with death. She died really young, betrayed, at the hands of the person she loved and trusted a lot, so I thought it would be fitting. Also in terms of color -- all of these together in a boquet would look like a splatter of blood on snowy and rocky terrain, which is fitting to the circumstances of her death as well. Description: This character died more than three thousand years the story she is from takes place. She is related to the protagonists in two ways: first is that she's probably their great-...-great grandparent's sister. Second is that they [...] look very similar to her in terms of facial features. This is significant because the guy who killed her ends up surviving and meeting them. He's a changed man at that point. [...] indirectly, she also saved her great-..-nephew's life at least once. She lives on, very strongly, in her killer's (former lover's) memory. It's not a "haunting" or even "regret or sorrow" sort of thing, per se, but it is there. What matters the most is that he denies himself the thoughts of her because he can't admit to making a (ginormous) mistake and also because even if he wanted forgiveness, there's no one left to give it. So he just represses it further. So that guy could become what he wanted to become above all else, one had to give up what they treasured most -- could be a thing, a person, or an action. So her killer had to trick her and then carve out her heart and eat it in order to prove his loyalty to his overlords and gain what he desired. Problem is -- he ended up detesting that as well (for other reasons). So not only was her death tragic, it was also essentially for nothing. Her actual personality has been erased through time (fancy for "she's defined more by the impact she's made rather than by her actual self") but she did have an affinity for magic and was also very fond of crows. TLDR: woman killed, influences the rest of the story in many unforseen ways, gives killer ptsd which he denies having for the rest of his extremely long life until he doesn't

Check her post here for the full description

Now, let's talk about the Ornithogalum

Meaning and why this flower was chosen: Ornithogalum (also known as Star of Bethlehem) symbolises innocence and purity, as well as atonement and death. Also Jesus lol. Which is fitting as this character is a good person who believes they're a bad person. They're both the hero of the story and a sacrificial lamb, trying to live up to their father's legacy. Description: Oh god, my buddy [redacted]. They're convinced they're a bad person who needs to be punished, when really they're a selfless hero with the kindest heart imaginable. Once symbolically murdered themself in a dream, and consequentially changed their milkshake order to symbolise they were a changed person. Has been a firefighter, teacher, construction worker. Pro-union. Once got kissed by a guy and then immediately stabbed by him as part of a fucked up dnd game. Believes a game of football could fix the prison system. The narrator is in love with them.

Check their post here

[blushballerina]

Lana Del Rey's "Text Book" from Blue Bannisters: A Unique Interpretation

I wanted to share my take on one of my favorite songs from her album "Blue Bannisters," specifically the song "Text Book." While I've always had a soft spot for "Chemtrails Over the Country Club" and "Born to Die," this album and this song in particular have captivated me in a unique way. I've noticed that it doesn't always get the love it deserves, and I've developed a rather unconventional theory about it. Bear with me, as I present my interpretation of "Text Book" as a song possibly inspired by Marilyn Monroe and John F. Kennedy.

I guess you could call it textbook - The term "textbook" here may refer to a history book or some form of new education, suggesting that the song is about a significant historical period.

I was looking for the father I wanted back - This line hints at Marilyn Monroe's lifelong quest to find her real father. Her mother, Gladys, concealed his identity from her, even going so far as to suggest that Clark Gable was her father, a notion young Norma Jean believed.

And I thought I found it in Brentwood - Marilyn owned a home in Brentwood, where she tragically passed away.

It seemed only appropriate you'd easily had my back - This could refer to John F. Kennedy, the most powerful man in America at the time, who should have protected Marilyn, either through a romantic involvement or by helping her with her mental health struggles.

And then there was the issue of her - Here, "her" could be JFK's wife, Jackie, or perhaps it's Norma Jean speaking about her Marilyn persona.

I didn't even like myself, or love the life I had - This line alludes to Marilyn's mental health issues and her constant yearning for a family and a baby.

And there you were with shinin' stars standin' blue with open arms - JFK is known for his blue suits and his "blue blood" image as a heroic figure in America.

You touched the detriment most of the friends I knew already had - Marilyn's relationships were often superficial, with men primarily interested in her for her physical attributes. Perhaps this line suggests that JFK's connection with her went beyond the surface.

You've got a Thunderbird, my daddy had one, too - Both Marilyn and JFK owned Thunderbird cars, though the meaning of this line is less clear.

Let's rewrite history, I'll do this dance with you - This line could signify a desire to go back and rewrite the past, possibly preventing the tragic fates of both Marilyn and JFK or even suggesting a desire for their reincarnation in today's society.

You know I'm not that girl, you know I'll never be - Marilyn, as Norma Jean, might be expressing that she's more than the public image of the "dumb blonde" on the silver screen.

Maybe just the way we're different could set me free - This could mean freedom from Marilyn's mental health issues or from the unhappiness of her life as Marilyn Monroe.

There we were, screamin', "Black Lives Matter" - Both JFK and Marilyn were advocates for civil rights in the 1960s.

In a crowd, by the Old Man River - "Old Man River" might symbolize the perpetual struggle for civil rights in the 1960s.

And I saw you saw who I am - Perhaps JFK truly saw Norma Jean and not just Marilyn.

God, I wish I was with my father - This line conveys Marilyn's longing to be with the father she never knew.

He could see us in all our splendor - Her idealized father would be proud of her and the love she found.

All the things I couldn't want for him - Marilyn wished for happiness for her father.

I screamed for them, oh, oh - Possibly a cry for JFK and Marilyn's lost love.

I screamed for them, ah-ah - The longing for a different outcome or for reincarnation.

Could we do this dance again? - A plea to live their lives over and over, correcting past mistakes.

Do you think if I go blonde we could get our old love back? - Wondering if JFK would love her as Norma Jean rather than Marilyn.

I guess this is really the end - Recognizing that JFK chose Jackie over her.

I never felt jealous before this year, but I'm jealous now - Jealousy that no one will ever truly see the real Norma Jean, no matter how close they get.

People say we're too much alike - Both were powerful figures in their respective fields, advocating for equal rights.

But maybe, finally, that'll make it right in the end - Suggesting that their shared characteristics might eventually lead to a just outcome.

Old Man River keeps rollin' - The ongoing struggle for civil rights.

With or without him - JFK contributed to the civil rights movement, but it remains a challenge even without his involvement.

Old Man River keeps rollin' - The ongoing struggle continues.

Without him, oh, my old man - The hope that progress will continue, even without JFK's direct influence.

In essence, "Text Book" may be a song that weaves together the perspectives of Marilyn Monroe and John F. Kennedy, touching on their shared history, struggles, and the possibility of rewriting their story in a different era. It's a unique interpretation that adds an intriguing layer to Lana Del Rey's lyrical storytelling. What are your thoughts on this take?

[razrgrl]

OMG, guys.

OhMyGodOhMyGodOhMyGod.

So you do you remember that WW1 diary Cici found? This one: https://doughboy.org/my-journey-to-discover-the-author-of-a-world-war-i-diary-and-tell-his-story/

She spent two weeks researching this. It is a rare and wonderful story about a brand new way of saving lives in war. It described army life in 1914 in France, not far from the Somme. It was a story written by a young man who wanted to be remembered. Cici found him and it was magic.

It was going to be hard to let it go, but the book didn’t belong to her. It was completely unique and had historical significance. It was potentially worth a lot of money.

So they sold it at auction.

For whatever reason, the auction didn’t gather the kinds of collectors that it deserved. The books went cheaper than they should have. There was one mystery person who seemed to be bidding on everything and seemed to have no cost restrictions. They outbid all but the most determined bidders (including families trying to get a piece of their history) and wound up with about 1/3 of the everything sold.

Today Cici got to talk to her.

It was some lady in the northwest of the country (I’m not being specific because y’all are going to want to do mean things to her). Cici asked what she was going to do with the books. She replied “They are for my kids (the oldest age 6) and whatever they don’t want I’m going to donate to their elementary school.”

This was an ANTIQUARIAN auction. In addition to the diary, she bought a family diary that had been carried through the Civil War, a one-of-a-kind book of political cartoons from 1900, signed first editions, and a leather-bound Latin textbook from 1730 that had generations of notes from the people who had owned it through the last 290 years.

AND SHE WANTS TO GIVE IT TO AN ELEMENTARY SCHOOL LIBRARY!

By the time shipping is worked out, this insane woman will be spending around $3000 for a bunch of antique books that she plans to give to elementary school children!

When Cici asked why she kept bidding on everything, she said something along the lines of “oh, you know. It was fun — I just hate to lose.”

Cici is trying to buy back the diary. The woman hasn’t said “no” but won’t say “yes.”

Keep your fingers crossed for us.

[outeremissary]

Top 5 Traitors

oh fuck yes

5. Kas the Bloody-Handed

Legacy pick (only one to make the final cut). You have had some contact with tabletop roleplaying game Dungeons and Dragons, so you may be familiar with the tale of Vecna: once upon a time, a powerful lich was betrayed by his trusted vampiric lieutenant, who cut off his hand and carved out his eye. Vecna is the most famous figure of this story, but as a kid reading through the relics in the 3.5 and AD&D books in the house, I was always fascinated by the vampire. Without Kas, the most iconic aspects of Vecna simply would not be: the Hand and Eye became the symbols of the lich's power in godhood and the clash between the two created the greatest myth of his existence. And Kas was related (at least in 3.5) to a wicked item as well- the Sword of Kas, a sentient blade dripping with its former master's malevolence and waiting to take control over its new wielder. Kas has a longer and richer publication history than just this (especially in 2e), but the bare basics of my pre-internet youth were enough to set wheels turning in my head. I was so fond of the idea of Kas and Vecna, former allies and now bitter enemies over some secret quarrel, that I made the focus of the campaign I ran in high school their history. We never quite got to Vecna, but the vengeful spirit of Kas did make an appearance, where he served as the party's mysterious and ominous adversary (and occasional ally).

4. Goro Akechi

I am told it is "very unsurprising" I am an Akechi fan. I really don't think anything else needs to be said about this one.

3. Alcibiades from real life

If you aren't familiar with the Athenian Alcibiades, he is my all time favorite historical figure. I think due to Assassin's Creed a lot of people know him now (fascinating choice with the white hair in that game), but he's a person so interesting he altered the trajectory of my life. Alcibiades was a younger contemporary of the famous Socrates (this is relevant. put a pin in it), living at the end of what many consider the Classical period of Ancient Greek history. He is one of the most famous students of Socrates, but he wasn't a philosopher. No, young, noble Alcibiades, nephew of Pericles, was a politician. Famous for his wild hedonism, keen intellect, and blinding charisma, he became a major populist leader in Athens in the early years of the Peloponnesian War and won a fairly significant command in Sicily. However, shortly before he was set to leave for Sicily, Alcibiades and peers were accused of defacing the hermai, protective statues of Hermes distributed throughout the city, rendering the hermai impotent in their function (two common beliefs about how they were defaced are that either the noses or penises were broken off- both prominent features on the simplistic phallic statues). The defacing of the hermai was a major act of impiety and an ill omen for the campaign.

Under scrutiny in the wake of these grave accusations Alcibiades ultimately decided to flee justice and defect to Sparta- if you're not familiar with the Peloponnesian War, it was fought between Athens and allies (many unwilling) and Sparta and allies (somewhat less coerced?). Up to this point, the war hadn't been going too poorly for Athens despite significant setbacks due to a plague in the early years and the death of Pericles. As an informant and strategist, Alcibiades turned the tide. Athens was put on the defensive and it seemed likely that Sparta had the edge needed to actually win against its wealthy foe (and as a side note the Sicilian campaign ended in disaster- some speculate that Alcibiades could have averted this if he had retained his command). Unfortunately, in the midst of these giddy successes Alcibiades fell out of favor with the king of Sparta when it was suspected that he had seduced the king's wife; some accounts go so far as to say there were rumors that King Agis's son was actually fathered by Alcibiades. In a bad position, Alcibiades fled once more, this time to Persia; the historian Thucydides claims that under new patronage Alcibiades embarked on a campaign of political and economic revenge against Sparta by ruining its relationship with Persian allies.

With both Sparta and Athens now in a disadvantaged state, Alcibiades persuaded the leaders of Athens to welcome him back and give him military command (as well as the curb democracy in the city-state and make him a part of the oligarchy). Once more, the war seemed to shift. Sparta stalled under wishy washy leadership while Athenian efforts saw some success thanks to the excellent leadership from now two time traitor Alcibiades. At the height of this, Sparta attempted to petition for peace and was denied. But it was the man's nature to be dogged by scandals wherever he went: ultimately political upheavals resulted in the installation of a less friendly government and he was driven from the city by enemies yet again after a major defeat. After that, he wound up an exile in the Achaemenid Empire once more; at one point he reportedly attempted to offer advice and aid to Athenian troops he recognized as being in a poor position, but was dismissed (these forces were annihilated by their foes). Ultimately he played no further significant part in the war. Athens lost and a Spartan puppet state was installed.

However, there was one final part Alcibiades had to play in history! You may recall in paragraph one I mentioned Socrates. You may also know that Socrates was condemned for corrupting the youths of Athens and compelled to drink poison to carry out his own execution. Well, as it happens, one theory about what exactly was happening with that charge is that Socrates was specifically scapegoated for teaching Alcibiades, a dangerous enemy of Athens. Whether or not this is true (Socrates was an unpopular asshole in other ways) I feel that when you read Alcibiades as written in works like Plato's Symposium you can feel the tension of Alcibiades' ruined post-war reputation and how it reflected back on his acquaintances. The Alcibiades of the Symposium is vivacious, careless, sexual, and dangerously defiant of social order. He delivers the final speech in the work and when he finishes his followers cause the entire dinner party to collapse into disorder and be broken up. And at age 18, I was so enamored with this bizarre ending to the work that I decided I had to study Ancient Greek history to understand everything about the world that produced that scene. When I wrote my honors thesis to complete my bachelor's degree, Alcibiades provided the frame of my introductory chapter: even though I had planned not to center him, in the end he became my mission statement.

As it happens, most of my relatives never read past that first chapter, so I'm glad he was lively enough to impress... At any rate, he's quite special to me. If I could meet any one historical figure this would be the one. Basic bitch answer, I know, but hey. He had a real impact on me.

2. Tristian

(Spoilers up to the end of the quest Betrayer's Flight)

Kingmaker has made something absolutely wretched of me, as any who have had contact with me in the past three years (yikes) can attest. Tristian has entirely, wholly melted my brain. Something about a treachery that's so vividly clear and predictable but you still can't believe because you just... can't reconcile the idea with the person you know. And then the added layer where there's nothing false about that initial understanding! Despite all the secrets and deceit, somehow Tristian is still exactly as they are originally met. All of that good intent and compassion and naive sweetness is real, every bit as real as the little bursts of pettiness and condescension and the fixation on performance as a servant of Sarenrae. It's such a heady mix of sincerity and selfishness. I am enamored with this character. You know I am enamored with him. Complicit in attempts on your life! Enabled mass murder! Willing to sink to the absolute depths to recover the comfort of life as some ideal self that never really existed! Dogged by guilt, but never enough to endanger himself or his goals until it's far too late to avert the most heinous crimes. And so many of the little sabotages and treacheries centered on one single person of personal interest... I adore the ways that Tristian contradicts and undermines himself while being so straightforward and undisguised. Such a unique character to me, and one I find... very personally relatable in some of the flaws and motivations. Not that I've engineered any bioweapons, of course! Anyway. I could prattle on endlessly about Tristian, and I think you've already heard much of it! So I'll let this be.

ACTUALLY coming back in with an edit that I will try to keep SPOILER FREE so I don't have to change the warning but the end of that companion quest line was a betrayal to ME PERSONALLY and I will DIE MAD and it is EXTREMELY RUDE to be abandoned like that!!! Fuck this guy. Fuck this guy. I'm feeling some kind of fucking emotion here.

Anthy Himemiya

I went back and forth on who should occupy the number one position on this list and was ultimately won over by the fact that in the famous "Top 10 Anime Betrayals" of memetic fame, Anthy is in fact listed as number one. Anthy is also my favorite anime character of all time. If you haven't watched Revolutionary Girl Utena, stop reading this and go watch it. Seriously. Watch the whole thing. Even the stupid bullshit and the recap episodes. It is the best anime I've ever seen.

Anyway. If you have watched it, then you probably already understand my reasons. Anthy is a captivating symbolic depiction of femininity under patriarchy, a woman who does not desire her own oppression but struggles even to dream of liberation. She is a victim of abuse and a perpetuator of the cycle: she casually destroys the vulnerable and ruins those who would be her allies. She is on a campaign of her own destruction. Anthy is not a good person, but she has born the blame for evils she was never responsible for as long as she can remember: she is the quintessential Eve figure. Her betrayal of Utena is shocking not only because the two have finally reached an understanding and earnest trust, but because it is a clearcut betrayal of her own desires (even if Utena wavered in a critical moment). And ultimately? Ultimately? Anthy isn't freed by Utena! Although Utena never gives up on her, she doesn't "rescue" Anthy, only passes on enough hope to allow Anthy to escape her circumstances herself- perhaps ultimately making Anthy the true heroine of the story. I laid on the floor for a few hours and thought about life after finishing this show.

I adore Anthy. She's such a subtly drawn character so dripping with nuance. She's not a heroic or villainous character, in contrast to Utena, and she can be truly vicious both in her service of Akio and pursuing her own petty vengeances. Although she is constantly cast as weak by other characters, she has endured unspeakable suffering and has found a form of power and agency even in her captive state. Anthy has a mystique that I could spend a lifetime thinking about. This is such a rich, complex story, but Anthy shines at the center of it and stands head and shoulders above the rest of an unbelievably compelling cast.

[secondguessing-reality]

Manifested Wrong

Written privately some time in December 2022:

What really happened, as of summer 2023:

You’re here. You’re finally here on my side of the country, in my city where you always said you’d be. I’m here with you, not living together yet but I made it, and you did too. We’re dating, we’re together. We speak daily, see each other a few days a week unless we’re busy - which happens to be often but at least we get a few days.

This is cute. You moved in immediately, and not only do we spend time together every single day, we sleep together a few nights a week. We speak all the damn time! <3

Sometimes you come over just to watch me with housework while I sip wine and have music playing in the background. These nights we spend together end in us tangled up together. Sharing details about our day as you help me put away dishes and place a kiss on my neck.

Oh, my beloved. Things turned out so much better than I imagined. I come home from work and everything I have piled on my to-do list is done already, thanks to you. When we spend the evenings together there's nothing to be done EXCEPT become wrapped up in each other. When we're home, we get so absorbed in our love that we don't even have time to get through videos and craft projects like we said we would. We're just too into each other that anything else seems almost like a distraction from our endless conversations.

On the weekends we hang out with our friends, with my sister and her family, my fiancé, or just with each other. We go places, do activities, find new places to try, all the fun things we said we’d do together. We have dinner at the fancy restaurants I like, and we find new cafes constantly. I take you to Rise or Asa's and you brag that nothing is better than NY bagels. It makes both of us laugh.

We definitely spend more time with each other than with anyone else. I'm happy to report that everything else is true, except I haven't taken you to a bagel shop here, yet. Soon!

I show you all my favorite spots in the suburbs that I call my home, a place that always felt solid and familiar. Sometimes we go out to Milwaukee to visit my family, spend time with my aunts, uncles, and cousins. I’m not afraid of introducing you, especially to my mother's side. Seeing us in the dynamic doesn’t worry me as I thought it once would.

I've shown you many places that hold meaning to me. I feel lucky I've gotten to see similar places to you. The family that has met you has loved you.

Sometimes we go out East to visit your family, your friends. Sometimes it’s for cons, sometimes it's just back to the Island for little weekends, occasionally it's for the City. We watch sunsets, we walk by the beach, I make an excuse to touch seawater every single time I get near it, you tell me about historically significant buildings and landmarks we pass, we share street food, I point out wildlife. You take my hand as we walk through the villages telling me this is the best love you’ve ever had. 

We've been back twice so far. This prediction was surprisingly accurate! Look at it! Everything came true. Well, take me back to the city for another day of adventures.

We share our traditions, or culture, stories from our upbringing and what its like to be raised by parents raised by immigrants. Things I thought most people wouldn’t understand but you do. The good, the bad, the ugly, the dirty, and the beautiful parts.

In the nights we stay up talking, joking, having sex, watching Netflix, laying next to each other in blissful comfort. We trust each other. I never thought it was possible to trust someone this much, I thought it was a myth, that it was something I only read or see on TV but you make it real. The closeness, the vulnerability. I overcame aversions because I want to be with you more than I’m afraid of being vulnerable. We learned from each other. The lessons we knew we needed to learn. You helped me to rely on others, to be open with others, to ask for help and let people help me. With my fierce love and adoration, I hope I'm helping you learn how to see the greatness within yourself. We’ve grown with each other, becoming better, stronger for each other all with the intention to continue to grow with and for each other.

Wow, okay. All true. Plus a plethora of pets. We've been through so much else the last few months, but when you look at it from December's perspective, I had no idea the depth of our bond could take us this far, and almost too easily.

I open up to you in ways I haven’t opened up to people before. And the best part, you don’t look at me like I’m crazy, or that I’m from another planet. Even if you thought as such you never make me feel alien for it. I don’t need validation, and you know that, but you let me find comfort in you without the fear of feeling like I made a mistake.

I let you be the weak one when you need to be. You want to be strong for me because I AM strong for you and for myself, but you know when to put away the façade and take a break. We lay down on the couch, your head on my chest as I play with your hair. Your long, silver, cloud-soft hair that I love so much. You talk as if no one is listening, opening up about things you keep buried deep. I respect your boundaries and you respect mine but we ask each other questions and tell each other our concerns without having any worry.

And when we look at each other and into each others eyes, we know it, better than we’ve ever known. We’re in love, and we always will be.

This is what I imagined for us. Prayed for. Beseeched the old Gods to grant for us. And it's true, except...

It's so, so much better than I dreamed.