#rig stop rambling in the tags

[cosmicgesture]

Ok so somebody talk to me about Hades 2 please oh my god.

Like?? Is it supposed to be a sequel? Why are the designs different? (Mostly speaking about Hermes bc he's the one I've seen most of and he looks totally different from the first game???) I know the player character is a woman. Who is she and what's her goal??

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Dinkclump Linkdump

I'm on tour with my new novel The Bezzle! Catch me TONIGHT in LA (Saturday night, with Adam Conover), Seattle (Monday, with Neal Stephenson), then Portland, Phoenix and more!

Some Saturday mornings, I look at the week's blogging and realize I have a lot more links saved up than I managed to write about this week, and then I do a linkdump. There've been 14 of these, and this is number 15:

https://pluralistic.net/tag/linkdump/

Attentive readers will note that this isn't Saturday. You're right. But I'm on a book tour and every day is shatterday, because damn, it's grueling and I'm not the spry manchild who took Little Brother on the road in 2008 – I'm a 52 year old with two artificial hips. Hence: an out-of-cycle linkdump. Come see me on tour and marvel at my verticality!

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/16/narrative-capitalism/#bezzle-tour

Best thing I read this week, hands down, was Ryan Broderick's Garbage Day piece, "AI search is a doomsday cult":

https://www.garbageday.email/p/ai-search-doomsday-cult

Broderick makes so many excellent points in this piece. First among them: AI search sucks, but that's OK, because no one is asking for AI search. This only got more true later in the week when everyone's favorite spicy autocomplete accidentally loaded the James Joyce module:

https://arstechnica.com/information-technology/2024/02/chatgpt-alarms-users-by-spitting-out-shakespearean-nonsense-and-rambling/

(As Matt Webb noted, Chatbots have slid rapidly from Star Trek (computers give you useful information in a timely fashion) to Douglas Adams (computers spout hostile, impenetrable nonsense at you):

https://interconnected.org/home/2024/02/21/adams

But beyond the unsuitability of AI for search results and beyond the public's yawning indifference to AI-infused search, Broderick makes a more important point: AI search is about summarizing web results so you don't have to click links and read the pages yourself.

If that's the future of the web, who the fuck is going to write those pages that the summarizer summarizes? What is the incentive, the business-model, the rational explanation for predicting a world in which millions of us go on writing web-pages, when the gatekeepers to the web have promised to rig the game so that no one will ever visit those pages, or read what we've written there, or even know it was us who wrote the underlying material the summarizer just summarized?

If we stop writing the web, AIs will have to summarize each other, forming an inhuman centipede of botshit-ingestion. This is bad news, because there's pretty solid mathematical evidence that training a bot on botshit makes it absolutely useless. Or, as the authors of the paper – including the eminent cryptographer Ross Anderson – put it, "using model-generated content in training causes irreversible defects":

https://arxiv.org/abs/2305.17493

This is the mathematical evidence for Jathan Sadowski's "Hapsburg AI," or, as the mathematicians call it, "The Curse of Recursion" (new band-name just dropped).

But if you really have your heart set on living in a ruined dystopia dominated by hostile artificial life-forms, have no fear. As Hamilton Nolan writes in "Radical Capital," a rogues gallery of worker-maiming corporations have asked a court to rule that the NLRB can't punish them for violating labor law:

https://www.hamiltonnolan.com/p/radical-capital

Trader Joe’s, Amazon, Starbucks and SpaceX have all made this argument to various courts. If they prevail, then there will be no one in charge of enforcing federal labor law. Yes, this will let these companies go on ruining their workers' lives, but more importantly, it will give carte blanche to every other employer in the land. At one end of this process is a boss who doesn't want to recognize a union – and at the other end are farmers dying of heat-stroke.

The right wing coalition that has put this demand before the court has all sorts of demands, from forced birth to (I kid you not), the end of recreational sex:

https://www.lawyersgunsmoneyblog.com/2024/02/getting-rid-of-birth-control-is-a-key-gop-agenda-item-for-the-second-trump-term

That coalition is backed by ultra-rich monopolists who want wreck the nation that their rank-and-file useful idiots want to wreck your body. These are the monopoly cheerleaders who gave us the abomination that is the Pharmacy Benefit Manager – a useless intermediary that gets to screw patients and pharmacists – and then let PBMs consolidate and merge with pharmacy monopolists.

One such inbred colossus is Change Healthcare, a giant PBM that is, in turn, a mere tendril of United Healthcare, which merged the company with Optum. The resulting system – held together with spit and wishful thinking – has access to the health records of a third of Americans and processes 15 billion prescriptions per day.

Or rather, it did process that amount – until the all-your-eggs-in-one-badly-maintained basket strategy failed on Wednesday, and Change's systems went down due to an unspecified "cybersecurity incident." In the short term, this meant that tens of millions of Americans who tried to refill their prescriptions were told to either pay cash or come back later (if you don't die first). That was the first shoe dropping. The second shoe is the medical records of a third of the country.

Don't worry, I'm sure those records are fine. After all, nothing says security like "merging several disparate legacy IT systems together while simultaneously laying off half your IT staff as surplus to requirements and an impediment to extracting a special dividend for the private equity owners who are, of course, widely recognized as the world's greatest information security practitioners."

Look, not everything is terrible. Some computers are actually getting better. Framework's user-serviceable, super-rugged, easy-to-repair, powerful laptops are the most exciting computers I've ever owned – or broken:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/11/13/graceful-failure/#frame

Now you can get one for $500!

https://frame.work/blog/first-framework-laptop-16-shipments-and-a-499-framework

And the next generation is turning our surprisingly well, despite all our worst efforts. My kid – now 16! – and I just launched our latest joint project, "The Sushi Chronicles," a small website recording our idiosyncratic scores for nearly every sushi restaurant in Burbank, Glendale, Studio City and North Hollywood:

https://sushichronicles.org/

This is the record of two years' worth of Daughter-Daddy sushi nights that started as a way to get my picky eater to try new things and has turned into the highlight of my week. If you're in the area and looking for a nice piece of fish, give it a spin (also, we belatedly realized that we've never reviewed our favorite place, Kuru Kuru in the CVS Plaza on North Hollywood Way – we'll be rectifying that soon).

And yes, we have a lavishly corrupt Supreme Court, but at least now everyone knows it. Glenn Haumann's even set up a Gofundme to raise money to bribe Clarence Thomas (now deleted, alas):

https://www.gofundme.com/f/pzhj4q-the-clarence-thomas-signing-bonus-fund-give-now

The funds are intended as a "signing bonus" in the event that Thomas takes up John Oliver on his offer of a $2.4m luxury RV and $1m/year for life if he'll resign from the court:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GE-VJrdHMug

This is truly one of Oliver's greatest bits, showcasing his mastery over the increasingly vital art of turning abstruse technical issues into entertainment that negates the performative complexity used by today's greatest villains to hide their misdeeds behind a Shield of Boringness (h/t Dana Clare).

The Bezzle is my contribution to turning abstruse scams into a high-impact technothriller that pierces that Shield of Boringness. The key to this is to master exposition, ignoring the (vastly overrated) rule that one must "show, not tell." Good exposition is hard to do, but when it works, it's amazing (as anyone who's read Neal Stephenson's 1,600-word explanation of how to eat Cap'n Crunch cereal in Cryptonomicon can attest). I wrote about this for Mary Robinette Kowal's "My Favorite Bit" this week:

https://maryrobinettekowal.com/journal/my-favorite-bit/my-favorite-bit-cory-doctorow-talks-about-the-bezzle/

Of course, an undisputed master of this form is Adam Conover, whose Adam Ruins Everything show helped invent it. Adam is joining me on stage in LA tomorrow night at Vroman's at 5:30PM, to host me in a book-tour event for my novel The Bezzle:

https://www.vromansbookstore.com/Cory-Doctorow-discusses-The-Bezzle

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/23/gazeteer/#out-of-cycle

Image: Peter Craven (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Aggregate_output_%287637833962%29.jpg

CC BY 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/deed.en

[cowboybrunch]

OC questionnaire tag

double tagged, thank you! <3

go meet their characters!!

@fortunatetragedy (royston. ROYSTON. and babysitter gott!)

@jev-urisk (i adore the box of forced truthfulness. is kazimier a softie? i wanna hug him. i dont think he'd let me)

My questions:

If you were offered the position of mayor of your city, would you take it?

What board game do you like the most?

If you were about to be executed what five foods would you have as your last meal?

So you're one of those people?

Is this really where you wanted to end up?

Why can't you just.. stop?

Your questions:

What's your retirement plan?

Do you have a favorite memory?

If you were stranded on a deserted island, what three objects would you take with you?

Marcella and Theodore will be answering, and Rosalie will be popping in to keep them honest

If you were offered the position of mayor of your city, would you take it? Theodore: I'm already a ceremonial figurehead. No, thank you. Marcella: The mayor has no real power. Give me a position of real influence and I'll consider it.

What board game do you like the most? Marcella and Theodore *in unison*: Risk. Rosalie: Chutes and Ladders. Marcella: Snakes and Ladders, and we're not allowed to play anymore. Theodore: Yeah, because you're a sore loser. Marcella: You cheated! You rigged the spinner— Rosalie: Let's move on, please.

If you were about to be executed what five foods would you have as your last meal? Marcella: If I was about to be executed, I wouldn't be thinking about food. Do they have me imprisoned? What restraints are they using? What kind of guards? Do they have a set rotation, and have I been here long enough to track it? Rosalie: It'll be faster if I answer for her. Marcella: Do not answer for me. Rosalie: Fine. *whispers* Pizza with olives and sausage, sweet potato fries, an extra sweet iced tea— Marcella: Next question. Theodore: But I didn't get to— Marcella: Next question.

So you're one of those people? Rosalie: Oh boy. Theodore: Why would you say that? Why would you think that? Are you threatening us? Is this a threat? Marcella: You've activated his shame response. Best to move on.

Is this really where you wanted to end up? Marcella: I did what needed to be done. I'm not going to apologize for it, if that's what you're looking for. Rosalie: That wasn't the question. Marcella: I'd go back and change it if I could, but I can't, so this conversation is pointless. If you're looking for someone to wax poetic about their regrets, ask Theodore. Theodore: No. Rosalie: No? Theodore: Of course it isn't where I wanted to end up. What more do you want me to say?

Why can't you just... stop? Theodore: I've tried. God, I've tried. Marcella: If I don't do it, nobody else will. Rosalie: Maybe we should take a break.

tag! @inadequatecowboy @illarian-rambling @leahnardo-da-veggie @finchwrites @oliolioxenfreewrites + open tag!

botrd taglist (ask to be +/-)

@vyuntspakhkite-l-darling @fortunatetragedy @autism-purgatory @rosesonneptune @cartoonghosts

@dyrewrites @whoevenknowswhatimwriting @jev-urisk

[elvensorceress]

wip Wednesday 

tagged by the incomparable duo @dickley-buddie 💕 @eddiediazisascorpio and the loveliest @spotsandsocks @bekkachaos @lostinabuddiehaze and @monsterrae1 💕

tagging @rogerzsteven @loveyourownsmiilee @ashavahishta @the-likesofus @ajunerose @gaydisasterdiaz @elfbuckleys @swiftiebuckleys @swiftiediaz @octobertulip @messyhairdiaz 💕

Here’s a little snippet of the Christmas fic I’m working on for the Hallmark holiday movie, 911 fest woo! ❄️ (It’s AU so Buck and Maddie are working at a hotel and he’s just met Eddie, who immediately insisted on helping Buck put up Christmas lights so Buck isn’t doing it alone.)

Buck pulls on the lines that move the window washing rig and the man easily attaches lights to the molding on the ledge of the building. He’s quick and efficient, and probably has gloves that don’t let his hands freeze. It is definitely faster, and better, working with someone. 

“You can tell me anything,” the man says without looking at him. “If you want. If you need someone to talk to.”

Buck stares at him and isn’t sure he understands. Why would he offer that? How could anyone be okay listening to him ramble? Why would they want to listen? Could Buck really tell him anything? He probably could. They’re strangers. They’ll never see each other again. It won’t matter a few hours from now. 

Although, now that he’s been given free rein to talk about anything, he isn’t sure what to say. It’s easy to talk when it’s about nothing. When it seems personal but really isn’t. He kind of wants to admit something personal. Just so he can say he did it. Just to know what it feels like to actually be open and honest, and free with his heart. 

He used to be that way. Hopeful. He used to be like that. 

He hands the man another roll of lights and lets him finagle the clips and the bulbs into place while he leans against one side of the rig and takes weight off his bad leg. “You’re sure?” 

“I am. Go for it.”

Buck eyes him up and down. He’s such a weird rich person. Or maybe he’s just weird in general. No one wants to listen to Buck. Which, he always thought, was fair because wow can he ramble on about nothing when no one stops him. “Are you a shrink?”

The man makes a scrunched face like the very idea of such a thing smells worse than some of the rooms Maddie’s had to clean. “No. But I know what it’s like to keep everything bottled up until you want to scream. Or throw yourself off a building. As you seemed to have no problem doing. I figured it might help if you had someone who would listen.” 

Fair enough. Fuck, though. He’s not just hot, but he’s kind. And stubborn sure, but he seems so genuine. Buck’s met plenty of people who fake being attentive and interested, plenty of people who act honest and sympathetic but don’t really care and only want to use you. Plenty of them. Including his most recent ex. Thank fuck that’s over. 

This man doesn’t seem anything like that. He seems… too perfect to be real if Buck’s being honest. “Are you sure you’re not some kind of therapist?”

The man gives him a look and it has amusement in it even if he doesn’t actually smile. “I’m a veteran.” 

“Ohhh,” Buck gives him a grin to make up for it. “So you’ve seen some shit is what you’re telling me. I get it.” He moves their cart a little further and unwraps tangled wires from the barrel holding the Christmas lights so his helper can place them. 

“Something like that.” He hooks another light onto the ledge but it slips off. He frowns at it and it’s too ridiculously cute that Buck has to look away. 

“Okay, then. Since we’re here and we’ll never see each other again and you asked…” What can he say? What does he want to say? He didn’t actually think anything through and he never tells anyone about anything real or important. Maybe Maddie sometimes, but not often. She has enough of her own trauma to deal with. He watches the man clip on another hook and place another bulb and glance at Buck expectantly. And maybe there is something he can talk about. 

“Most people think I hate Christmas.” It’s small but it’s something. And it’s definitely not something he could tell Maddie. Christmas is her favorite. “A lot of things about the whole holiday season annoy me. There’s all the pressure around events and buying gifts and making everything perfect and spending time with family, and it’s only ever been another day to me. Even in my twenties, people liked to call me Scrooge and Grinch because I just. I don’t know. I was never raised with any religion or traditions or anything. My sister loves Christmas but we never… I only met her ten years ago. So I never really cared one way or the other about it for most of my life. All of my life.” 

The man stops hanging lights for a moment and looks over at him. Maybe he won’t think that sort of secret means anything. Maybe that’s part of why Buck chose it. But it’s more of his heart than he thinks he’s given anyone. 

Although… the way the man looks at him. It seems like he knows this or might understand it. Gently, he looks and gently, he says, “You never had a family. Or friends? Or people you love to spend it with?”

“I didn’t,” Buck shrugs. “But the thing is? I think the idea of it is nice. The sentiment of giving and kindness and peace and being with the people you love… I mean all of that is… It’s good. I like that part. When Maddie talks about why she loves Christmas, it makes me wish I could’ve had something like that. She had good Christmases with presents and fun decorating and making ornaments and cookies and watching cheesy movies and doing what she says are all the typical things. So, sometimes, when I hear about what it was like, I wish I hadn’t missed out. I wish I knew what it was like to enjoy Christmas.”

The man’s eyes are so deep and soft, Buck could swim and float and maybe never hurt again. He’d be weightless and protected. If all the warmth and gentleness in this man is true. But the man’s gaze goes somewhere and his face turns into a hard mask. “I had good Christmases. I had a lot of really good ones growing up. And I wish I could give that to my son. His mother also loved Christmas, and so he loves Christmas and I know he wants nothing more than to do all those fun Christmas activities and make those fun memories. And I wish I could give him that.”

Buck tips his head and wonders what changed, how it changed. “But you hate Christmas and everyone calls you Grinch, too, and now Santa will never visit your house and bring your son presents?”

The hint of something like a smile makes the corner of his lips curl ever so slightly. And wow, Buck did that. It feels unusual and unlikely and it’s infinitesimal, but it’s definitely there. “Something like that,” he says again in answer, then turns back to the ledge and their strings of lights.

[sweetmage]

Just thinking about some things regarding Abdirak in the Tav!Alois timeline. If you don't understand who Alois is then you can read this backstory fic for my Tav!Abdirak if you want. This is not really anything of interest, I just felt like rambling lol. Contains spoilers for all acts and end game.

Character death mention

To the best of his knowledge Alois has been dead for some fifteen years. He has carried that grief and isolation with him this whole time, he has never processed that loss but masked it with worship.

And it just so happens that his invitation to to the goblin camp lead their paths to cross. Of course Alois (who has been avoiding him this whole time, not wanting their schemes to endanger him firther) would be surprised, but Abdirak must be shaken to his core by this, especially with how cool and casual they are about the reunion.

I think they'd inquire about his work like old friends catching up, but they wouldn't make much time for him in that moment. I think they'd also proudly display the fresh brand on their hand (both because it was a big step in their mission to secure gain footing in the cult and because they were able to tolerate a serious burn unlike in their shameful past) but refuse to elaborate further, suggesting he meet them at their camp later. Abdirak ends up traveling there with the goblins, catching wind of what Alois had aided in (the fall of the grove) on the way over.

I think he'd be incredibly unsettled. Ironically, I think he would start to question if this was the real Alois, as opposed to in the Tav!Abdirak timeline where he willfully let's himself believe that his Guardian (who took the form of Alois) is actually Alois.

I'm thinking emotions are high as they catch up with each other, but Alois has rebuilt all the walls that their relationship with Abdirak had brought down in the past and they are much more reserved, though still just as gentle with him. They seem to no longer speak of Loviatar as freely, but instead the Absolute which raises some concerns, but they brush it off with whispers that it's for Loviatar's will and that he needn't worry nor convert.

They almost sleep together (mostly undressed, making out, feeling each other up) but then Alois stops themself and tells Abdirak he should get going and that they're leaving in the morning for Moonrise Towers, which Alois seems quite eager for, in spite of the danger.

Abdirak recalls one of the Zhents he'd traded with back at the goblin camp was also headed there and, suspicious of Alois and concerned for their behavior, tags along with her and her group.

Alois ends up saving him in the shadow cursed lands when their paths converge on the way to Moonrise, but they aren't very happy to see him and are quite cold, though it's clear they're partially forcing it. He's given a final warning to seek shelter at Last Light while they proceed to moonrise to conduct their own business, but his bad feeling continues and he knows he can't trust them.

He finds them one last time at a camp where the shadows are thinner and attempts to confront them, but he's armed himself beforehand because he hardly recognizes them (especially next to the squeaky clean, idolized image he's held in his head since their apparent passing).

I am on the fence about it but I've been considering having Alois, who is being snuck up on, strike first without warning and having them have to live and suffer with killing the person they sacrificed everything to save and protect so long ago, and now feeling like they have to double down in their goals (to secure control of the cult and turn them over to Loviatar directly) so that it wasn't for nothing.

Buuuuuuut on the otherhand I like Abdirak so maybe not lol. I might do a second timeline in which he survives and when Alois has burned ever bridge and enthralled every person with a tadpole and has nothing at all to show for it there is still someone out there who will either suffer it with them and help them set it right or cut them down for it.

Hmm...🤔

[kuronekonerochan]

Publiquei 400 vezes em 2022

São mais 116 publicações do que em 2021!

19 publicações criadas (5%)

381 publicações reblogadas (95%)

Blogues que rebloguei mais vezes:

@insanityisfine

@scoundrels-in-love

@momo-de-avis

@kuronekonerochan

@cup-ah-jho

Marquei 302 das minhas publicações em 2022

Apenas 25% das minhas publicações não tinham marcadores

#tuga things – 35 publicações

#mood – 29 publicações

#pt stuff – 26 publicações

#cdrama – 24 publicações

#me in a nutshell – 20 publicações

#esc 2022 – 19 publicações

#kdrama – 16 publicações

#funny – 11 publicações

#capitalism – 11 publicações

#tumblr – 11 publicações

Longest Tag: 138 characters

#creatividade sobre pressão e stress intenso e só te dá pânico existencial seguido de exaustão qd acaba o turno e te sai o peso do mundo de

As minhas publicações mais populares em 2022:

N.º 5

Petition for 2022 to be the year kdramaland finally stops teasing and delivers on the promise of “filling the black holes” with “affectionate swords”

20 notas – Publicadas em 6 de fevereiro de 2022

N.º 4

Alchemy of Souls is just Wuxia Kdrama with terrible kpop idol hairstyles...and I love it.

23 notas – Publicadas em 28 de junho de 2022

N.º 3

Random Hanadan/BoF Shitpost

After hearing that Love in Flames of War, a republican era cdrama had Hana Yori Dango/Boys Over Flowers/ Meteor Garden/ F4 vibes... but eventually failed to deliver on that front I rambled at @dangermousie​ that, actually, we SHOULD have a Hanadan version of every genre of cdrama.

 No...wait...I’m joking...but also not. My reasoning for this is solid:

 1) No matter what you thing of Hanadan and all it’s objectively toxic and dated glory, you can’t deny it is a hallmark in the history of shoujo manga/anime/asian drama/ live action adaptation/remake pumping machine. It paved the way for all the ItaKiss, Fated to Love You, etc...and it is still to this day a nostalgia magnet for an easy cash grab with each remake (also the latest one might be the best lol).

 2) *Surrender by Cheaptricks plays in the background, talks in “there is no war in ba sing se” mode* There are no new ideas in media. Everything is a sequel, prequel, remake, reboot, retelling, soft reboot, parody, homage, the same thing over and over again but call it by another name (it’s still a rose, yeah Shakespeare, you’re a genius, congrats!).

 3) Let’s face it. Dramaland is going through the lowest of lows. Cdramas are bad and boring, Kdramas are scarce and boring and Jdramas are 10 ep cute little intros to the story you really wanna see that’s about to begin...at the end of ep10, last episode, no 2nd season. So, they might as well try Every Hanadan Set Everywhere all at Once.

 So, without further ado, introducing...every genre of Cdrama Hanadan (with crazy plot eggs for some and none for others bc I say so):

Starting with contemporary…

1)      Reverse hanadan where the fl is a rich asshole and the ml a poor little meow meow

2)      Time loop hanadan

3)      Modern Fantasy hanadan (sort of like the beginning of Bulgasal but more petty and less angsty lol)

4)      Transmigration low budget web drama romcom hanadan

5)      *barfs* modern office corporate romance hanadan

6)      *barfs again* gaming hanadan

7)      Sports hanadan (aka if HanaKimi wasn’t genderbender or cute but toxic instead)

8)      Coming of Age/ Youth to Adult Married life Hanadan 

Syke! Too late! There is already an OG classic toxic Hanadan of this Genre, it’s called Itazura na Kiss (and it’s my guilty pleasure, my personal hanadan lol)

9)      Ice sports hanadan....yesss...get gory with the bullying with ice skating blades muahahaha. The red card locks her on the ice rink and they oil the railings/plexiglass around it so she can't even climb out and she nearly freezes to death. They rope her to the back of a zamboni and drag her through the ice. While she is trapped on the ice rink, they rig a bucket of water to fall over her so she freezes faster.

Now for the period dramas…

10)   Republican Era hanadan

They could use the boat scene ending from the finale of the anime as a convenient plotpoint to escape the republican era without dying in the republican turmoil. "Oh, they just reunited dramatically on a boat post amnesia and went abroad together and missed all the political fatal shit and lived happily ever after. Their kids returned to China and lived happily under the great CCP rule (/s)!

11)   Palace hanadan

It’s hanadan meets legend of Ruyi where he is the Crown Prince but the Empress Dowager holds all the power and on some humiliation move has him take a barbarian slave as a concubine...and the red card is that it's open season on her from every noble or regular consort of his harem and his friends in the court...all is fair the only rule is she cannot be murdered, everything else is fair game. So she is beating to the brink of death, poisoned daily with agonizing pills only to be given antidotes at the last minute, drowned, flayed, etc.

12)   Wuxia hanadan. Similar. Dude is the leader of the jianghu, declares her a demon bc she offended him and has all the pretentious righteous sects go after her with agonizing Gus pushed on her body, plenty of chains, kebab her in multiple ways with stakes in torture chambers to cast out the evil.

13)   BL Wuxia hanadan. (this one is just here by popular demand. Mine. No, I will not elaborate on that).

14)   And at last…my personal favorite….drum rolls… Xianxia hanadan (here is the plot):

She spilled peach wine on his cloud robes once by accident before the Great Heaven's Ceremony so he scribed her name carelessly on the stone of the doomed as petty revenge hoping she'd get some bad karma. But at the time the Demon Overlord was fighting the Lord of Fate and the Dijun on Kunlun and as they made their final strike the demon overlord turned into a cloud of heavy miasma that swirled away swiftly for miles and landed on the stone of the doomed. Hence, for the next 10.000 years the calamities and heavenly tribulations of every god were transferred into the unlucky FL.

In the first 300 years, the gods were unsure of what was happening, but soon word spread of a small menial demigoddess who seemed to be getting an abnormal amount of calamities and trials and yet never ascended into a higher level god. But other gods were getting past their fated tribulations dates without experiencing the event itself but still ascending afterwards. Soon this bizarre phenomenon was being gossiped throughout all the heavenly realms and the gods were rushing to get their hands on every magical item capable of moving forward their tribulation dates... After all, who knew how long this free meal would last? So it follows that our female lead spent the next 10.000 overbooked from torturing calamity to the next without a break or a reward.

Our cloud cloaked protagonist came to learn of this business about 500 years into it. It was not his intention for the karmic payback to be that harsh...but then again it was his best cloud vest that the annoying, insignificant little demigoddess had ruined...and if the consequences had been that rough, who was he to question the Great Design. He soon forgot all about it, surely none of that pesky matter would come back to bother him...

10.000 later: Our fuming fl finally had enough...after experiencing every form of dismemberment as a human, for eons, though she didn't collect an ounce of heavenly grace to ascend to higher goddess....she sure damn well accumulated enough yin to form a monumental grudge...and she would use all of that energy into one single punch for a certain cloud clothed god that would send him so high the gods would finally know what lies above the heavenly realm...not that he'd get the opportunity to tell the tale.

Ver a publicação completa

29 notas – Publicadas em 20 de maio de 2022

N.º 2

Reset (cdrama)

Just finished Reset and it’s my fav cdrama of like...the whole of the plague years?! I haven’t even liked any cdramas this year, barely tolerated a few, but this? this was flawless. On every level. Better than most western dramas of its genre. They have a cool concept, keep it simple, add only necessary elements and the attention to detail, character building, etc is on point. The acting is good, the leads especially, subtle but detailed, their chemistry is great and it’s one of those dramas that keeps you on edge for every minute of it. Did I mention I love the main characters? smart and good people, yet not annoyingly perfect. They mess up (the whole drama is trial and error) sometimes in impulsive ways, but never in unbelievably dumb ways. Perfect length too (ok could have been 12eps instead of 15... but still, excellent runtime management coming from a cdrama!). And most of all...it doesn’t F*Ck it all up at the ending. Do you know how many of the few dramas I almost reaaally loved (not liked, not tolerated, actually loved) while airing turned out to have such a shitshow of an ending that ruined the whole thing? Probably 90% of them... it’s a thing, cdramas have terrible or mediocre endings by definition and then only a few miraculously escape that fate.

45 notas – Publicadas em 6 de fevereiro de 2022

A minha publicação número 1 de 2022

The bastard son & the devil himself

I predict the tumblr craze for the next weeks is Netflix's the bastard son and the devil himself. It's a story between two rival clans of witches that are brutal and try to kill each other (ones are sort of cannibal too, the others succeed in the genocide of their rivals from their country) and the mc is the son of a mass murderer for the other side, raised by the rival clan and constantly abused by his half sister who is a psycho who wants to kill him. Also along the way he runs away with the daughter of that clan's leader and they both fall in love with a bi wizard who helps them escape.

Supernatural+rivalry+gore+threesome mc relationship? This the the most tumblr thing ever.

49 notas – Publicadas em 3 de novembro de 2022

Vê agora o teu Ano em Revista de 2022 do Tumblr →

[thespoonisvictory]

*warning for dream critical, and pointless rambling about point systems and the nature off mcc. I am not an expert, nor do I think dream should be sent any hate, or that he even really deserves actual criticism for it*

sooo dream posted this on his reddit, as I’m sure you’ve heard. here are my thoughts, because I have a lot to say.

first of all, the fact that dream doesn’t list any pvp games as his strengths is laughable. he’s undeniably a god at both sb and sg, and yet these aren’t strengths for him? he really thinks he’s better at hitw than skybattle? but obviously, if he lists those, he can’t say the point system is against him. but anyway. the tournament isn’t making him play worse, he’s playing worse, and pinning it on the tournament in general is silly.

I don’t think he’s trying to say that mcc is like rigged against him, nor is this particularly hateful, but it comes across as very entitled and oblivious to the reason why mcc exists, which I’ll get into.

Sands of Time: this is a great idea! until you... actually think about it. vaults in particular don’t work, because how can you argue that splitting vaults is more fair when usually one person finds the key and one person finds the vault itself. what about people who spend more time on puzzles or combat to unlock other areas instead of getting coins? what about sand that other people have collected that shouldn’t ‘belong’ to the sand keeper? do they deserve points for that? it’s messy at best, and keeping the points grouped and then split is the simplest and most effective way to keep it fair.

but beyond that, sot is a team game. you’re meant to work with your teammates to most effectively explore the vault, and although individual performance matters, team communication and strategy is much more important, and it’s reflected in the scores.

Parkour Tag: I’m going to trust dream’s word on this one, as many other people such as op have corroborated it. points should be fixed to better reflect the hunter’s skills.

HITW: uhhh, you get a big bonus because you survived the hardest walls my guy. it’s like getting win points for sg, you get it because you were the best, and because you effectively beat the game. also, I hate to say it but if you’re never getting to the end in hitw then you’re not that good lmao

Parkour Warrior: I don’t think he’s blaming mcc for this, or even saying it should be brought back, but like, pw was removed for a reason. the over-practicing done by some competitors forced the difficulty to be raised so far above the average person that parkour was now a miserable experience for 80% of competitors and their viewers. people weren’t having fun, and it wasn’t an engaging game if you weren’t great at it, so it got knocked. it was for the good of the tournament and the players, not to hurt dream’s ego.

TGTTOS: now this is where it gets batshit. ok, first of all, dream suggests that it’s almost impossible to use teamwork, something disproved by watching literally any perspective where teammates guide each other through the map, give tips, and shout out which directions to go. hell, group bridging has proved very effective. then, he suggests that the team bonus is bad because it gives more points to good teams... and this is a bad thing.

the team bonus is such a wonderful implement because it encourages teams where everyone contributes equally. unlike stuff like hitw, where one good player can carry a team to 1st, tgttos team bonuses mean that the strongest overall team usually wins, not the one with the strongest individual player. which is good! because this is a team tournament!

Overall: besides the impracticality of resorting the entire points system to cater to his ‘strengths’, the issue with this mindset. mcc isn’t about individual points, it’s about how you do as a team. the top two players don’t face off in dodgebolt, afterall. having shared points and team benefit encourages that the winning team is one where every player contributes and works together, instead of a few players individually being skilled. but this isn’t that for dream, and I think that’s blatantly clear. I understand that he wants to show his skill, but mcc is a tournament started by scott as a way to play with his friends for fun. It’s about meeting new people and networking and sometimes making money for charity, not a try-hard competition.

and if he wants to take it competitively, that’s fine, but other people try as well, and yet no one else is complaining.

techno didn’t complain when they changed game rules like five times to nerf him, he just adapted.

players who perform roles like woolplacer in bb don’t complain about the loss of points, they just do their job.

the hermits, especially grian, certainly haven’t played this season, despite having two of their strongest games removed from circulation (bingo and rocket spleef).

other than parkour warrior complaints raised as a community, I can’t think of anyone else that has demanded a change in points to better suit them. It comes off as incredibly egotistical to believe that can tell mcc how their tournament should be run, and that it should cater to the small percentage of people who want to take it that competitively. above all, it comes off as naive to what mcc is actually about, even if he didn’t intend for this to sound as off as it did to me. 

tldr: dream pls calm down and stop trying to make a for fun tournament your place to show off, it’s for fun.

[ashkazora]

God i agree so much, you can't go 2 steps in bnha ao3 tag without running into all might bashing like my man is kind he didn't deserve this shit especially because it's done to place Aizawa "stinky garbage teacher man" on a pedestal

DUDE i could go on a fucking rant about and y'know what? I will.

Apologies for the chunks of text thata re very ramble-y.

It seems like a lot of hatred of Yagi stems from two things: his words to Izuku in s1e1, and his bad teaching. For the latter, I think that's bullshit because in my interpretation, Yagi is not quirkist. People forget that he was fuckin quirkless himself, and sure, his generation wasn't as discriminatory but he presumably went through the same things as Izuku. And keep in mind, Yagi regards himself as helpless/useless without his quirk (see: the Vigilante Arc in the manga), as to him it's the only reason he could be a hero. Furthermore, even with the most powerful quirk, he still got his ass beat by AFO. So when a quirkless Izuku asks him if he can be a hero, it's not that he hates quirkless people, or that he is discriminatory, it's that Yagi own insecurities dictate that he himself couldn't be a hero without a quirk. Yagi is a victim of the system that discriminates against quirkless people, as well as a victim of his own trauma.

And with the former point, I see a lot of points that Yagi sucks because he's a bad teacher and didn't stop Izuku from breaking himself. Now, he's not an amazing teacher, but jfc characters can have flaws, and ultimately he's well meaning. But the sheer hypocrisy I see when people write Aizawa as this amazing teacher when he did fuck all for Izuku too. Aizawa let Izuku break himself and never helped, even though he threatened Izuku on the first day. (And speaking of the first day, there's no way Aizawa didn't rig the QAT. Izuku canonically can lift a whole ass fridge with Yagi on top with 100% quirkless, and is. comparatively fit. There's no way people like Hagakure, Jiro, Kaminari, Koda, etc. etc. would beat him in everything enough for him to be last place.) Furthermore, Aizawa had to know Izuku only just got his quirk (I believe that the thing that he doesn't check student files is completely fanon, but correct me if I'm wrong) and did nothing, but gets put on a pedestal! And that's hypocritical. Aizawa let Bakugo harass Izuku, didn't notice Mineta's harassment, didn't help Kaminari utilise his quirk to stop him from shocking himself, etc. etc. And I think that Aizawa is a product of a bystander society but y'all, how can he be put on a pedestal and Yagi bashed when he's a shit teacher too??

Also, if there was a quirkless person in the hero course, what's the chance Aizawa would have expelled them? Because tbh, there's probably a chance that he would.

Also, don't get me started on the people who think Yagi 'groomed' Izuku like wtf. If that's the case, then doesn't that mean Aizawa groomed Shinso? I could also talk a lot abt shinso because a lot of the stuff about him is completely fanon and everyone likes to woobify him, but that's an ask for another day. How people can bash Yagi, but have a Bakugo redemption, parental Aizawa, good friend Shinso, etc. is just, eh. Like I get it, but eh.

And honestly, to an extent I get it. People love found family. Hell, I'm a massive fan of Irondad, Dadmight, and so many other things like that. And to an extent Dadzawa isn't bad! But to bash Yagi to make Aizawa seem like a better person? Nah. They're both heavily flawed characters, and ignoring one's flaws and exacerbating the other's just feels hypocritical.

Honestly, at this point I can't really read any Dadzawa fics or Quirkless Izuku fics because of the rampant Yagi bashing. It's just, ugh. I can't wait until the Vigilante arc is animated, so that anime-onlys have to see that Yagi and Izuku's relationship is so much more that what they describe.

But hell, this is the MHA fandom. Critical analysis means fuck all here. But each to their own.

Ultimately, MHA is a flawed world, where everyone is a victim of societal bias and inherent discrimination. No one character is exempt from this. Not Yagi, not Aizawa, not anyone else. But everyone is allowed to have their own interpretation.

[alexthefly]

So, I finally watched the 2004 Thunderbirds movie, and I have some thoughts...

First of all, this is completely, entirely, 100% @uniwolfcorn's fault.

Secondly, yes it's true. Never watched it. Not even accidentally.

Until now.

Come with me on this journey and listen to my insane ramblings...

- So this is a nice little credits sequen-

- JONATHAN FREAKIN' FRAKES?!?! You're telling me this movie was directed by Commander William Riker?!

- This teacher is giving me Colonel Casey vibes...

- How did this reporter lady get to the oil rig before the boys did?

- Okay, Fermat is adorable and I would die for him. ❤️

- So, our first look at the Thunderbirds in action...

... ::adjusts brightness settings:: ...Nope, still nothing...

- What did they do to FAB1? It's gone from classy machine with classic lines to a goddamn bubble car!

- "Try not to run over any children, Parker." Gee, thanks for that M'lady, I was just h'about to plow h'into them like they was bowling pins(!)

:SNORT:

- Wait, that's not...Fuse, is it?

- Ah, finally a decent look at the 'birds: hmmm, One looks pretty good, but Two seems a bit...Flight of the Navigator?

- Hmmm, perhaps TAG has spoiled me with all the lovely brotherly cuteness, 'cos this dinner scene is not it. Movie Jeff is a big improvement on TOS though.

- Alan, I know you're upset, but you let Fermat finish his dinner goddammit!

- Yay John! Oh, this scene is just gorgeous! John the agony aunt and voice of reason, Jeff worrying about his sons and talking to them like a dad instead of just a commander... It's just so damn wholesome. ::chef kiss::

- Thunderbird Five actually looks pretty goo- ...Aaand they blew it up. 😱 John!!!

- Five: ::floating around in bits::

- "So this is Mount Olympus, and these are the Thunderbirds..." Oof. Mixing your mythologies there, Hood.

- "Like a puppet on a string." ::Sobs in meta::

- Hood: [resumes monologuing]

- Wait, that reporter got to the scene again? In Singapore? *Checks notes* Wasn't she in Russia?

- "Don't you think Tintin is blossoming?" 😳 #cringe

- First question from Jeff is whether the kids are safe, and be still my heart!

- Hoverbikes!!!

- Alan's being a reckless idiot and OH NO YOU DID NOT JUST MOCK MY ANGEL'S STUTTER!!!

- This chase sequence is...oof. Was it always bad, or is it just the naughties CGI shining through?

- UnFuse coming in strong with the evil laugh there...

- Again, brotherly dynamics here is...off: Scott losing hope, Gordon being a condescending knob? Uh-uh. Nope.

- Jeff: "He's a Tracy." 🤍🤍🤍

- Parker is an absolute treasure and I love him.

- Penny, stop quipping and spinning like a top; just kick her in the face!

- "Don't go to sleep." 😭😭😭😭😭

- "We've got to be quick; the Hood is getting away." ...Aaaand your father and brothers? Remember them? Suffocating in space?

- ::gasp:: Two is launching! Cannot wait for this!!

- Bra jokes. 🙄😩 This whole last ten minutes has been a hard steer off the edge of a cliff, quality-wise. Not happy...

- WHAT IN THE NAME OF ALL THAT IS GOOD AND PURE HAVE THEY DONE TO HER UNDERCARRIAGE?!?!?! HOW DARE?!?!?!

- OK, Brains yelling Jeff awake makes everything better! 👓😁 Very very silly but I am here for it.

- That little nod between John and Jeff is everything. 🥰

- ...I see Lady P found time to change outfits during this very urgent and time-sensitive crisis.

- Ah, the obligatory product placement for... Wall's Ice Cream? �� Huh.

- The same bloody reporter's in London now!! Seriously, it's been what, a couple of hours tops! Did the studio spring for a bloody TARDIS?

- Accident Zone? Accident Zone?! Firstly, it's clearly not an accident, and secondly, 🔥😡🤬🔥

- Thunderbird Four! ... ::resumes squinting::

- That steering mechanism is going to play murder on their elbows... That said, this rescue sequence is kinda fun.

- The boys cheering and whooping for Alan and Tintin made my heart sing! Why wasn't there more of this earlier?

- Did Lady P get changed AGAIN?!

- And apparently she also forgot all the cool martial arts she knew half an hour ago...

- Aww, Jeff and Alan having a moment. ❤️🤍

- Mr Scriptwriter, if you need a character to be kept alive when by all logic the bad guys should kill her, don't bring that fact up and then leave it totally unresolved! You don't need to start pointing the movie's flaws out to us - we can see them.

- Parker and Fermat my beloveds!

- Veering between awful bits and lovely bits is starting to give me whiplash...

- 🤣😂🤣 The Hood's gone full M Bison! 🤣

- Jeff displaying genuine fear for Alan's safety is giving me life right now.

- "I don't want to save your life, but it's what we do." ::bounces excitedly:: Grandma and Scott said it better in TAG, but the sentiment is the same and I'm thrilled!

- "See you soon, Jeff." Did they...did they think there was going to be a sequel?! Bless their hearts.

- The boys are all dicking about in the pool together and everything is right with the world. ☺️🥰

- See? I knew that "blossoming" thing was creepy!!

- I'm not going to mention John's mutant healing abilities. Not at all. Nope.

- They ALL get to be Thunderbirds? Fermat my baby!!

...You and me both, Parker. 🥲

- Pink pedalo. Because reasons. Apparently.

- 🎶YOU KNOW THE LID'S ABOUT TO BLOW, WHEN THE THUNDERBIRDS ARE GO! 🎵

FINAL THOUGHTS

It absolutely had its flaws but honestly? Not even close to as bad as I thought it would be. Perhaps in 2004 I would have been mad, but today, knowing that TAG exists and fixed so much of what went wrong here, I can dig it. 👍

[keelywolfe]

FIC: Just Swimmingly ch.4 (BAON)

Summary:  Jeff doesn't know where they are or where they're going, but he knows one thing. It's probably not good.

Tags:  Spicyhoney, Established Relationships,  Hurt/Comfort, Additional Tags To Come

Part of the ‘by any other name’ series.

~~*~~

Read it on AO3

or

Read it here!

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By the time the van came to a stop, Stretch still hadn’t woken up. Not that it mattered very much, there wasn’t a thing Jeff could have done to change their situation. At the moment, they were very much outnumbered, overpowered, and even if he’d had a clue where they were, it wouldn’t have done them any good. Before they dragged him out of the van, one of the thugs yanked a bag over his head. Blinded, he struggled to stumble along as two guys pulled him out, trying not to cry out as they led him barefoot across crumbling asphalt into a building with rough carpet.

He kept as quiet as he could, trying to not only listen in case they said anything useful, but also for Stretch, praying to a God he hadn’t spoken to since he was fifteen and his father threw him out that they didn't hurt Stretch. Jeff could survive a few bumps and bruises, but he didn't know how much Stretch could withstand. Intent was key when it came to Monsters, he knew that much, and these guys seemed to have plenty.

At first, he tried to keep track of where he was being led. An impossible effort when the twists and turns of being dragged along left him too disoriented to know his way up or down. They seemed to walk forever until his captors suddenly stopped and Jeff was shoved down into a chair. Rough hands grabbed at him, rope suddenly binding his wrists and ankles. He didn’t struggle as he was tied, only tried to tense his muscles as much as possible, some shitty internet meme he vaguely remembered reading said that it could help slip free later.

Turned out memes weren’t the best source for escape plans. When they were done, Jeff subtly tried to move and the best he could manage was a painful rope burn. The ropes felt like they were wound through the slats in the chair and unless Houdini decided to make good on his possible return from the other side, Jeff was going nowhere fast.

He could hear their captors moving around, muttering too low to be understood and the other sounds might have been more rope. Tying up Stretch, maybe, he hoped that’s what it was; at least if they were together, that was something, hell, that was everything right now.

The bag suddenly getting ripped off his head made him gasp, flinching from the glaring light pointed directly into his face. Squinting, he could barely see the shadowy figures standing behind it, but he was sure he could see a cell phone pointed in his direction.

“Say your name,” a rough voice demanded.

“Andy—” he began automatically. “No, Jeff, I’m sorry, Jeff! My name is Jeff!” There was nothing else and Jeff shifted, grimacing as the ropes dug in. It was on the tip of his tongue to go on, to blurt that he worked in public relations, that he was nobody important and not worth ransoming. He bit the inside of his lip to keep those rambles from pouring out. Partly because it was probably stupid to tell kidnappers your value or lack thereof, and partly because of Edge. He’d always told them to never offer more information than was necessary and yeah, he’d been talking about board games at the time, but Jeff doubted that Clue was where Edge learned that particular rule. If these assholes wanted more info, they could damn well ask.

Either his name was all they wanted or they already had whatever other info they needed. Jeff didn’t even have a chance to try squinting through the too-bright light when one of them came towards him and yanked the bag back over his head. He sat there, sweat beading on his face and his own breath threatening to smother him as he listened to their captors moving around next to him.

“He can’t talk,” one of them said disgustedly. “He’s still wasted.”

Stretch. That meant he was right next to him, thank fucking god.

The rough sound of a slap made Jeff tense, protests bitten off when the same voice cursed and there came the sound of someone rubbing their head, “What the fuck, man!”

“That’s exactly how we want him, dumbass! He doesn’t need to talk, all they need is a good look at him. Come on, they’re waiting.”

Footsteps and then the sound of a door closing. Jeff strained to hear if anyone was still in there with them around his own breathing loud in his ears, his pulse thundering. There was nothing, no shuffle of feet against the floor or the creak of a chair. Jeff waited a little longer, curling his chilly toes against the rough carpet.

Nothing. Jeff took a long, slow breathing, trying to calm his racing pulse. He needed to be cool right now so he could try to think of something. Even if the Embassy was willing to give these assholes whatever they wanted, they sure as hell couldn’t count on that saving their lives. He was no strategist, his degree was in sociology, for fuck’s sake, but. Stretch always called him Handy Andy and it made him feel like someone different, someone braver who could stand up to a violent asshole on a bus and help Stretch with crazy experiments involving swinging bottles of Diet Coke rigged with automatic mentos dispensers. Jeff might not be the best for this situation, but Andy was sure as hell gonna try.

“Stretch,” Jeff said softly. He waited for someone to shout or a slap followed by a demand that he shut up. When none came, he went on, soft and urgent, “I know you can't hear me, but, just in case you can. It's gonna be okay. I know you're big on promises and I'm promising you right now we're getting out of this. I promise you." If he could glean anything of what Jeff was saying, he hoped he could hear that much. At least maybe he wouldn't be afraid.

"i sure hope so, i didn't get this far in life to get dusted by a low rent group of third rate scooby doo level villains. seriously, they tied us up with rope, were they out of packing tape at ‘kidnappers ‘r’ us’ or were they just eager to try the knots they learned in boy scouts before they got kicked out."

Okay, that wasn’t quite the last thing he’d expected, but it was close.

"Stretch?" Jeff gasped out. He couldn’t see a damn thing through the bag, but he could hear a muted popping sound. Suddenly, the bag was gone, far gentler than before and then he was blinking up into Stretch’s smirking face.

Jeff looked around a little wildly and next to him was another chair, the still-tied ropes hanging from the rungs in loose coils.

“yeah, sorry. i woke up back in the van, didn’t want to tip them off. wherever they buy their roofies must not have given them a dosage chart.” Stretch settled his hands on Jeff’s shoulders. “hold still, this is a lot easier than fighting with knots.”

It was the gentlest and shortest teleport he’d ever felt. Only a brief disorientation and when his vision cleared, he was sitting on top of the ropes that had just been binding him.

Jeff scrambled to his feet, swiping his sleeve across his sweaty forehead. Holy shit, maybe he should take up praying again more regularly, this was the fastest service he’d ever gotten. “Can you get us outside?”

His heart sank as Stretch shook his head. “that's gonna be a no. with the bags on our heads, i couldn't see where we are. shortcutting is tricky, it's dangerous to teleport blind. that's how you end up stuck in walls or halfway inside a table or some shit.” Stretch waved a slender hand at the chairs. “dangerous, not impossible. a few inches above where i was sitting was a pretty safe bet to get out of the ropes, but anything else is more likely to get us dead than on the street.” He frowned, glancing around the room thoughtfully. “plus, i'm not going anywhere without a little intel. they’re fucking idiots, but they knew enough to drug me and how to do it. that's not information you can just look up on a wiki-how.”

“Okay,” Jeff took a deep, steadying breath. "So, what do we do, then?” He glanced at the door. “Can you pick locks?"

"sure,” Stretch said absently. He was looking around the room. It was a storage room of some sort, there was more dusty furniture aside from the chairs, including a rickety desk, and metal cabinets lined the walls. “but i can't do much about the door being barred. i heard something get braced against it when they went out.

"Oh. Right."

“yeah,” Stretch agreed, “at least one of them has a brain cell or two rolling around up top, enough to get them this far. but the road trip is over and it’s time to pay the tolls.” Stretch shook his head disgustedly. "first rule of kidnapping is never leave the kidnappees alone. seriously, i'm getting my cues from netflix and even i know that.”

His eye lights paused in their survey of the room, brightening. Jeff followed his gaze and saw in one corner there was an honest to god old-fashioned rotary telephone pushed into the far corner of the desk, nearly buried under the clutter.

"can't be that easy, can it?” Stretch marveled. He picked it up the handset and held to his skull, then sighed unhappily. “nope. no dial tone, no surprise there, no one has a landline anymore. don’t you worry though, little phone.” Stretch gave it a soft pat. “you’re gonna be real useful in just a minute. seriously, this is just embarrassing. my first kidnapping attempt and they locked us in a room with an entire arsenal.”

“I must be missing the vendor in the corner willing to hand over gear if we do a mission for them,” Jeff joked weakly.

“everything is an arsenal if you’ve got the skills.” Stretch rummaged through the desk and came up triumphantly with…a paperclip? He set it on the desk, adding a pencil, some scotch tape, and what looked to Jeff like an old tube of superglue. “kidnapped by the ebott equivalent of the america’s dumbest criminals, fuck me. edge is going to be up my ass for a month.”

“I don’t think you’re giving him enough credit.” It was easier to be calm in the face of Stretch’s ease. “I think six months is the bare minimum.”

“i really wish you weren’t right.” Stretch glanced around the room again, this time directing his gaze upward. “hm, that’ll work.” Tall as he was, the ceiling was still out of reach even for him. Stretch pulled one of the chairs over, ropes trailing behind it like tentacles, and stood on it, reaching for the smoke detector. Jeff could only blink in confusion as he yanked it right off the ceiling.

"You're going to burn down the building?” Jeff asked. Not that he didn’t trust Stretch, but, uh, that seemed extreme for a first escape attempt. “That’d get us out, but I don't think we'll be any more alive."

"nah, just need some parts,” Stretch jerked his head towards the door. “keep an ear on the hallway, will ya, in case they remember that leaving us alone is probably stupid."

“Got it.” Jeff went to the door but before he could press his ear to it, Stretch called his name.

"hey, kiddo, i'm gonna get us out of this." Stretch offered him a familiar, lopsided smile. "i know i don't look like much, but i've been known to keep my head in a bad situation."

"You already saved me once,” Jeff said honestly, "why wouldn't I believe you now?"

Stretch’s pale eye lights flickered with memory, his expression briefly tightening. How did he remember that horrible night in that parking lot, Jeff wondered, what nightmares haunted Stretch’s sleep? He knew something happened after the ambulance took him away, but he’d never heard the entire story. After he’d been released from the hospital, he’d been wrapped up in healing enough to start his new job at the Embassy and as time passed, he hated to ask, didn’t want to dredge it all up again, not when everyone was slowly getting past it. Besides, the others had their own shit to deal with, what with the attack in California and everything happening in Ebott. His trauma was his to handle and that was the end of it.

At the desk, Stretch got to work, humming the ‘mission impossible’ theme under his breath as he dissected the phone and smoke detector with a makeshift screwdriver made from a bent paperclip taped to a pencil. His hands were as deft and easy as any demonstration he’d done for the local kids and Jeff could only marvel at his ease.

“How can you be so calm?” Jeff blurted, wincing even as the words escaped. He hadn’t meant to say it, didn’t want to distract him. Stretch only flicked a glance his way, both browbones raised.

“me?” Stretch snorted, “i am not calm. beneath this gorgeous cookie crust exterior is a honey pie of a person who would start shitting themselves if i could grow the prerequisite equipment. but we're gonna be okay.”

“How do you know?” Jeff hated the faint pleading in his own voice, he shouldn’t be distracting; Stretch was as stuck here as he was and with his HP, it was even worse. He was supposed to be the one helping Stretch, he’d promised, and the best he could do was lookout.

“you seriously think red isn't already on it?” Stretch asked and as terrifying as Red could be, thinking about him right now eased some of the aching fear that was settled in Jeff’s stomach. “all he needs is a clue and we’re gonna get him one. i only hope he can keep edge from razing the city and salting the earth beneath it until then. people might be a little tetchy about that and i’m not even sure you can come up with a press release that’d cover ‘sorry about starting city-wide armageddon, my bad.’”

Before Jeff could think of a reply to that, either an agreement, or a protest that a little chaos could be excused considering the circumstances, he heard footsteps coming from down the hallway. Panicked, he hissed out, “They're coming!”

“fuck, okay, okay.” Stretch scrambled over and set some kind of contraption on the floor near the door that was all waggling wires and circuit boards. He grabbed Jeff by the wrist and dragged him along. “over here, come on, this a harder trick, but you can do it. i need you to hold as still as you can. if you move, they might see you, you get me?"

Jeff managed a hasty nod as Stretch shoved him into a corner, cramming them both in tight, out of the way. "don't move, don't talk,” Stretch reminded him, a low murmur close to his ear. The slim, bony arms around him were comforting and even knowing that Stretch couldn’t physically protect him, having him towering overhead as he caged Jeff against the wall felt oddly safe.

Then something happened. He didn’t know how to describe it. It felt like a heavy curtain fell over the world, everything going distant and muffled, even his vision greying like he was about to faint, only he’d never felt so awake. There was a sudden popping explosion as the door swung open and collided with Stretch’s contraption, but it sounded miles away, the kidnappers’ curses as muffled as if they were speaking from another world.

He didn’t move, held perfectly still even as that curtain slowly grew claustrophobic, nausea starting to churn. Jeff closed his eyes, swallowing convulsively and just went he thought he couldn’t stand it a moment longer, that he either needed to move or he’d start screaming, it was suddenly gone and Stretch was stepping back.

When he opened his eyes, he saw Stretch was pale, sweat showing visibly on his skull. "are you okay?" Stretch asked.

“Me?” Jeff blurted. He caught hold of Stretch’s arms to brace him as he wobbled on his feet. “I’m fine, what about you!”

"i’ll be okay.” Stretch wiped his face on the sleeve of the crummy shirt he’d been forced into with a grimace. “i pulled us halfway into the void. it works, but it burns a lot of juice. the assholes booked it out of here, but more importantly, they left the door open."

The door was opened, they could leave, and yet, Jeff found himself blurting out, “They’ll get away!”

“no,” Stretch said grimly. “they’ll look for us first, thinking we couldn’t have gotten too far. these guys aren’t gonna ditch and run that fast, they know too much. think about it. drugs work on monsters but how do they know what kind and how much? lucky for me, skeleton monsters are different. our systems are finicky, we’re hard to drug. whoever tipped them off about how to roofie me didn’t know that.”

His sockets narrowed suddenly, Stretch turning away to look in the rusty cabinet next to them. “oh, honey,” he said gleefully, “jackpot.”

Jeff joined him, peering into the cabinet as Stretch cautiously wrenched it open. “What did you find?”

He held up a bottle of bleach and said, smugly, “just some nice, normal household chemicals. they can be lots of fun if you know how to mix 'em up and i'm a one hell of a bartender. but first.”

On the desk was another little contraption that was mostly wires and tape. Stretch picked it up and walked over to squat next to a wall outlet. Carefully, he pushed it into the socket. There was a sputtering spark and a tiny red light blinked to life.

“there we go.” Stretch stood, dusting off his hands. “i don’t even want to think about how pants-shittingly angry edge probably is right now, but we can’t let them get the ransom that asgore is probably going to pay and we sure as hell can’t let them get away.”

He grinned then, wickedly sharp for all that his teeth were blunt. “so, how’s about we have some fun, yeah?”

Jeff nodded determinedly. Fuck, yes. If he was going to add to his repertoire of nightmares, he was damn well going to make sure someone else paid for it, in spades.

tbc

[cosmicgesture]

that moment when an expensive thing you want is on sale, but you have no money

i miss getting birthday monies T-T

[a-world-in-grey]

A Year and a Day

@secret-engima Six curse it all WHY DO YOU DO THIS TO ME-

(Fusion with the new Mer AU because I ALSO have no self-control, ffs. Also, because I’m going off of the one posted story and a single ramble, I have absolutely NO IDEA how much of this actually fits in your Mer AU so like, yeah? See the end/tags for more.)

.

-It’s been a year since those horrible two weeks after Libertus lost Nyx in a storm (a year since Libertus nearly lost her forever) and a year since the realization that mythical merfolk aren’t quite as extinct as everyone thought.

-At first it was just Nox and his Uncle, but after that it seemed like the floodgates opened, because one particularly rough day - not quite a storm thank Ramuh - on the waves saw another merman with the fins of a Lionfish but in red and liquid silver clawing his way on deck and screeching at Nyx and Tredd and it wasn’t until Libertus’ heart stopping trying to beat out of his chest that he realized the merman was scolding the two idiots-

-Captain was the only merman to stick around near constantly, even more than Ardyn and Nox (to Nyx’s disappointment) but occasionally other mer would pop by to talk with Captain in that strange language the rest of the crew was slowly but surely beginning to pick up. 

-It’s been a year since that fateful storm. No, a year and a day, and Libertus is maybe a bit on edge because if there’s something Libertus has figured out, it’s that Fate loves her Significant Numbers.

-(A year and a day. A decade. A century. A millennia.)

-A year and a day. If anything is going to happen. If anything is going to happen, it’s going to be today.

-And to top it off, it’s storming. Again.

-Nox is with them this time. Libertus isn’t sure he should be relieved by the merman’s presence or worried that a powerful mythical being shares his worries.

-The Flotilla is facing off against another Niflheim Fleet. Not Tummelt this time, though Tummelt had survived the storm that nearly claimed Nyx’s life. No, this time it’s led by the Aureus, captained by Caligo Ulldor and that’s the only reason they’re facing off in such a storm at all.

-(No matter the risk, they cannot let Ulldor reach land. Every Galahdian would give themselves to the Stormsender’s Wrath then allow the atrocities Ulldor would inflict upon their people.)

-But Ulldor isn’t the young and reckless captain Tummelt is, surviving by daring and wits. Ulldor, for all that no Galahdian would ever admit it to his face, is a match of skill for any Furia captain, and a crew equally sea-worthy. The Aureus keeps up with the Stormheart, even with Captain at the helm, even as the rest of the Niflheim fleet falls to Nox and the Flotilla.

-Until a note splits the thunder-struck sky, not so much a Song as a shriek, high and shrill and inhuman and panic-desperation-betrayal-runrunRUN hitting all of them like a rogue wave.

-And the scream cuts off with terrible suddenness and Captain roars, hate and fury blanketing the ship as he shouts for them to brace for impact, just in time for a ship - Tummelt - to somehow appear from nowhere and ram them from the port side.

-Libertus manages to grab Nyx and the rigging, wrapping one arm around her waist because he refuses to lose her a second time-

-It doesn’t matter, as the Stormheart splits, sending them into the waves and the last thing Libertus hears is Nox’s furious scream.

-(A year and a day.)

.

-He wakes.

-Libertus wakes with sunshine on his face, in his soul and lungs, hands helping him turn and vomit up sea water as his own clench in the sand beneath him-

-Heaving for air, reveling in the pain because Shiva’s tits it hurts but pain means he’s alive, how-?

-Nyx’s worried blue eyes, checking him over, helping him sit up before wrapping arms around his neck and sobbing. Libertus returning the hug because his brain still can’t comprehend anything his eyes are seeing.

-The crew of the Stormheart, laid out on the beach. Most of them awake and sitting up, being tended to one of the many red-haired Furia that must be from one of the local villages, given the children and Elders among them, handing out food and water and bandages.

-Nox and Ardyn - and when did the other merman arrive? - seeing to the worst of the wounded, blue and gold magic shimmering through the air. And Captain, beside him and Nyx, grim faced but guarding the-

-Libertus’ heart skips a beat, and he wonders if he’s actually dead.

-Nyx lets out a wet snarl and smacks his shoulder. Did he say that out loud?

-“Y-you were.” Nyx hiccups, hands clenching in his shirt.

-Libertus wants to disbelieve it. Coming back from the dead isn’t possible. Only, he can’t, because the Koi mermaid with red and gold scales in the tones of a summer sunset, trailing up arms and from sea-blue eyes, hair the same red-violet as Ardyn, bends over a horribly pale and still Tredd, pressing lips to his and breathes.

-And in a shimmer of gold, Tredd sputters, coughing up seawater as Luche and Axis help Tredd turn over.

-“Breath of Life.” Captain tells him, eyes dark. “A rare gift. And not one without consequences.”

-Consequences? What consequences-

-Sunshine on his face. But the sky is clouded over and Libertus can still feel a warmth in his soul, like the hearthfire of his childhood home, like the summer sun as he and Nyx played in the Galahd River.

-Breath of Life. Nox and Nyx mated with a kiss, “We didn’t just get married, did we?” He squeaks.

-Libertus might be panicking. The least Nyx could do is not laugh at him, thank you very much.

-The Captain’s chuckles are much more reassuring. Mostly because he wouldn’t laugh if it were serious. “No. Mating requires consent.” Captain shoots a wry look in Nyx’s direction. “If not informed consent. Of either party.”

-Nyx just snorts, a year of teasing on the subject inuring her to any embarrassment. Nox on the other hand still turns as red as Ardyn’s hair whenever someone brings it up.

-Libertus is relieved. Not that he’d necessarily mind being married to the mermaid who - on top of being very pretty - saved his life and the lives of most of the crew it looks like, but Libertus doesn’t fancy suddenly becoming part of a harem no matter how pretty said mermaid is.

-“So what happened, then?” Libertus asks, because if he’s not married, he’d like to know what Captain means when he says consequences.

-“A gift of magic.” Captain says bluntly. “Most merfolk aren’t capable of it, but most merfolk aren’t the Draconian’s either, and dragons have always been possessive of their Claimed.”

-What did dragons have to do with merfolk- wait. Libertus’ head whips around to stare at the fire-haired mermaid. At the Koi mermaid, and suddenly Libertus remembers the tales of koi fish climbing the mountain rivers to reach the Sky and become Dragons. “I thought- those are myths.”

-The Captain raises a wry brow. “So are merfolk.”

-And as Libertus sputters at the fact he’s been Claimed by a Princess, Nyx gives up and cries with laughter.

.

More notes on this so I hopefully don’t go any further down this rabbit hole-

-Sola was captured by Niflheim, and experimented on by Besithia who learned how to harness and shape her magic - and the magic of other mer - essentially turning Sola into a magical battery. She and other magically powerful mer are brought into battle to give them a magical edge against their enemies.

-Sola was most commonly brought aboard Caligo’s ship and used to hide the presence of other ships so Caligo could crush his enemies in flanking and pincer maneuvers. 

-Sola sensed the presence of other mer, sensed Titus’ presence and fought back, if only by screaming a warning because she refused to be the reason another of her people were captured and used. She’d die first.

-She thought she would, when Caligo slit her throat and dumped her overboard. But Ardyn found her and healed her, and then he and Nox destroyed the Niflheim fleet and Sola helped rescue and heal the Galahdians.

-Like Titus, Sola has a lot of scars. The worst is the scar across her throat, the scar over her chest and back from someone running her through - the Kings of Yore, multiple times from when Niflheim pushed her magic too far - and the scar across her back from when they first captured her. The rest are from torture, experimentation, and being forced to heal her captors.

-Sola once had a beautiful singing voice. But now, despite Ardyn’s healing, Sola’s voice is a raspy croak and she can’t speak much before the pain gets too be too much, so typically sticks to sign language anyway. Sola doesn’t mind the loss, but Titus and a lot of the other Galahdians feel guilty because she lost it - and almost her life - because she warned them.

-Everyone Sola saves with the Breath of Life ends up getting the gift of her magic. Similar but lesser in scale to the gift of magic Nyx has from her mating with Nox. It also means that Sola becomes very possessive of the Galahdians she saved, because they are Hers.

-The day Sola decides to start Courting Libertus is the start of many Shenanigans and much hilarity for everyone on the Stormheart II. Because Sola’s picked up just enough of Galahdian Courting to know generally what to do (bring gifts/kills to show Ability to provide, bring dead enemies to show Ability to protect home, etc), but she’s a mer so like, not all of it comes across.

-Though, the day Sola presents Libertus with a beautifully made sash of woven sea-silk (that the Lazarus weep over) dyed in shimmering blue and black is the day Libertus finally gets a clue and everyone gets to see Libertus choke and turn bright red. Sola just laughs and kisses Libertus on the cheek.

-Sola and Libertus are very affectionate with each other, though they carefully never kiss on the lips. But forehead kisses, cheek kisses, hand kisses (the first time Libertus does this to Sola, she turns as red as her scales), and lots of cuddling is very common to see.

-Sola crafts a marriage bead out of a golden pearl that she gifts to Libertus. Libertus waits for Sola to braid it into her hair, then braids the Ostium braids into her hair, before he seals their marriage with a kiss. (And, if it applies in this AU, Sola gives up her mer form and most of her magic for the form of a human, and gets to learn how to walk on human legs.)

-(By the time they marry though, Libertus has met the entirety of the royal family including Regis and Aulea and has decided that Aulea is by far the scariest of his in-laws. Nox and Ardyn included.)

.

Fun Fact: in Japanese (and Chinese?) myth, koi swam up river to try to climb the mountains. If they succeeded in reaching the sky, they transformed into dragons.

[jjba-hell]

Fate and Fortune

A Lesson in Probability

Part 11.5

Here’s Part 11 but you can read all the previous parts in the fate and fortune tag

So this is not plot relevant at all but this is a pretty explanatory way of understanding Vera’s stand as well as Vera and Polnareff getting to know one another a bit better.

Moots: @fyre23 and @risottoneroo

Basically gambling and rambling, enjoy. (Also no proofreading- today I die like a dumbass)

Vera tapped on Polnareff’s shoulder, slipping on her earrings as she waited for him to wake up. He blinked up sleepily at her in disbelief. His gaze shot over to the alarm clock on the bedside table.

“Come on, we’re going gambling.” Was all she said before she moved to the door where a suit for a particularly large gentlemen was ‘accidentally’ delivered to his door.

“Midnight? Vera, what are you-“

She laid the suit down on the foot of the bed- switching on the bedside table light. “Polnareff, we’re in Dubai- the casinos here are immaculate. Please? I promise I can make you win some SERIOUS cash.”

He looked at her, slack jaw in disbelief. “You can’t be serious.”

“We’re leaving tomorrow and it’s still a conservative country so I couldn’t go on my own even if my age allowed it- I’m begging you.” She folded her hands in front of her in feigned pleading.

And after he shook himself awake from what she actually guessed was disbelief, he got up. “Alright, alright.”

“Thanks, the taxi will be here in half an hour.” Was all she announced before disappearing into the bathroom where she was putting on make up. The last swipe of red lipsticks on her lips had just been applied when Polnareff’s gentle knock came from the other side of the door.

Her hand wrapped around the door knob and opened to the fully dressed Polnareff. “Oh I do have to applaud myself, I guessed your size pretty well, didn’t I?”

Polnareff fiddled angrily with his loose bow tie, “Why didn’t you take any of the others?”

She moved in, taking over tying his bow tie. “Because the others- as much as Jotaro’s poker face would have been useful- would have snitched on me to Mr Joestar. And Mr Joestar wouldn’t approve of this because well-“ she shrugged. “I’m not done with school yet and already raising hell.”

“Ah I see- you think I’ll keep quiet.”

She only shot him a glance as she was finishing swiping off any lint from his shoulders. “Not necessarily- you’re kind of impulsive and this is impulsive so I figured you’d simply understand.”

With an encouraging pat on the arm she moved past him. “I’m going down for the taxi and a smoke break while you finish freshening up. She was on her way to the door when her feet stopped and she turned back. “Speaking of cigarettes...?”

“Top drawer on the left.”

“Thank you.”

Vera admitted that more than anything, she wished she had a better grip on this guy. Sure, his misadventures gave her a chuckle occasionally but the way he bounced back from grave situations made her ponder if he ever felt anything. If he didn’t- it was somewhat a cause of concern.

She took her ID out about halfway to the casino and used Fortune to change her birthdate.

Polnareff leaned in closer to watch the number blur and reamaterialize like a vision clearing itself. “Now how does luck have the ability to do that?”

“Printing mistake.”

He blinked at her. “You’re going to have to elaborate.”

“Simply put, Polnareff- there’s a small chance that my ID got misprinted, past the quality check and then got sent to me in the mail. The probability was highly unlikely but so is most of the stuff Fortune can make happen.”

The wheels in Polnareff’s head seemed to click and place and he let out a long ohhh.

“So- I’m guessing your stand has always been able to make such specific probabilities come true?”

“Oh not at all-“ she handed the security her clutch purse and her ID, standing to let them pat her down before ‘eagerly’ returning to Polnareff’s side. “There was once a time when I just hoped for the first card from a deck to be a chosen suit. Now, however,” she started leading him towards the chip exchange. “Now I can have Fortune predict and adjust the entire deck.”

She had Polnareff slide in a clip of money- her entire savings- as a total of £3000.

“Starting small, tonight?” The man behind the counter asked as he brought out the chips.

Polnareff seemed appalled at the idea that 3K was a small start but Vera jumped in instead. “It’s just a casual evening for us- we’re traveling in the morning.”

“Are you sure about this?” Polnareff asked, the worry evident on his face. “This is a lot of money you might lose completely.”

“Unlikely- you’ll just have to trust me.” Was all she said as she moved towards the blackjack tables first.

They were offered Champaign by a passing waiter, and just in time for their first deal. “You know how to play, right?” She whispered into his ear.

“Of course I do.”

She smiled down at him, trying to convince the dealer that were at the very least interested in each other’s company. “So you won’t need me, I’ll just be your lucky charm.”

The Roulette wheel was where she knew they’d start making big winnings, it was also where Polnareff started to understand the entertainment aspect of the evening. Gambling was a peculiar art of gathering enough competitors to make your play worthwhile. And Vera using herself as eye candy was exactly what they needed.

“What do you think, my dear? Am I an utter fool for betting that high?” He spoke perhaps a bit too loudly.

“I don’t know- is Lady Luck on your side?” She retorted.

“I can never tell- she looks an awful lot like you sometimes.”

She laughed it off, seeing a crowd gather in their peripherals.

“So- that what it feels likes to have your Fortune changed. Not quite as natural as I thought.” Polnareff had told her as they left the Black Jack table.

She laughed, counting the chips into the little velvet bag. “I suppose it would feel strange to you. I don’t know I’ve always seen it as a bit boring.”

“Boring? Boring how?”

They watched as the little white ball shot of the table master’s hand, running around the edge of the Roulette wheel. Vera couldn’t be bothered, she was focused on the black seventeen on the wheel. Focusing Fortune’s attention on that.

“As strange as it seems- probability and human choice kind of go hand in hand. One can sometimes influence the other...”

The speed of the ball slowed down, everyone around them held their breath as they waited.

“Sometimes it’s some ingrained instinct for us to go for even numbers- other times it’s a rigged game.”

The ball slipped into the black seventeen.

“But it’s not knowing the outcome that makes Fortune an invisible god.”

She and Polnareff leapt up and hugged each other as the crowd around them either cheered with them or sighed in defeat.

“50K for the duo in black.” The table master slid the chips across the board towards them.

Polnareff’s eyes widened as he pulled the chips closer. “Another game?”

Vera drummed her fingers on his shoulder, making him look up at her. “What do you think, Jean? Another game?”

She squeezed his shoulder just to make sure he understood they won’t be leaving the table. He gazed at her a moment and then turned to the table. “Well I suppose another game couldn’t hurt.”

“Why did you let us lose?” Jean groaned as she split the money into 15K each. Their winnings had decreased after the fifth game of Roulette and then got back to 30K at the slots. “I thought you had full control.”

“I do, and I didn’t let us lose, I made us lose.”

They had just left the casino and was walking back to the hotel- which wasn’t that far.

Polnareff spluttered. “Bu- But why? We could have walked out with millions!”

“From just 3K starting point, wouldn’t they find it awfully suspicious?”

She groaned as she bent down and climbed out of the heals she’d been walking around in all night.

“There have been worse cases, haven’t there? What about people winning the lottery and such.”

Vera looked back at him, his wide blue eyes begging for answers. It made he laugh for a moment. “Jean, you don’t actually think casinos are made for you to win in right? They’ll only let you succeed that much, anything more and we’d be in the interrogation rooms right now. Also-“ she started removing her earrings and slipping them into his suit pocket. “Isn’t 15K enough?”

“Don’t I owe you 3K?”

“No? Where’d you get that?”

“Well you gave the starting bet didn’t you.”

She scoffed, walking away from him. “I couldn’t have done it without you, Jean. You do possess that real entertainer’s talk so... thanks for that.”

“Come on- we need to get back to the hoTEL!”

Polnareff sprinted past her, grabbing her clutch in his hand and stuffing his money into her purse.

“I don’t want to hear another word about this- the money is yours!”

It took a moment for her brain to catch up and when it did she was after him. “Jean! Jean, it was a team effort! The guilt is gonna eat me alive!”

He ran ahead of her- getting much faster simply due to his height. “No no no no no! I won’t hear it!”

“Jean! I’m wearing stockings and a dress! This is not fair!”

“Promise you’ll keep the money!”

“Never!”

She phased him back with Fortune just close enough to hop onto his back- clinging on for dear life. “I told you, I don’t want it.”

“So why make me go in the first place?” He panted, resting his hands on his knees, Vera just hanging onto his back for the ride.

Vera’s breath returned to her, but the answer didn’t. Polnareff waited it out, the silence suddenly becoming oppressive.

“Truth is Vera, I don’t know you very well. And from what I can tell is that you’re not a particularly emotional person.” He put a hand over hers on his shoulder. “But Mr Joestar has told me why Avdol’s death hit you harder than me. I’m so sorry for what you’ve been through. Especially in Pakistan.”

The mere thought of it made her nauseous, her grip on his shoulders loosening. She slid off his back and stood staring at the pavement- hoping she could stop the tears from coming. “I just wanted to take my mind off things. I didn’t care if I was going to pay for it later.”

The admittance felt like it broke a dam behind her eyes. The tears flowing freely. “I’m just so tired.”

Polnareff let her have a moment, her shoulders quietly jerking as she cried. “Do you want to talk about it? I’d love to get to know you a bit better, and not from what other people tell me about you.”

She sniffed, lifting her head to meet his gaze. “Look what you’ve done to me, Jean! My make up is a mess!”

He only laughed, offering her a handkerchief. “Come on, I’ll abba* you home.”

She accepted after wiping away some snot and black stained tears under her eyes.

“So- where should I start?”

Jean only nodded or hummed in understanding as they walked back, not saying much. Vera speaking freely about her life for the first time in a long time.

“Alright, so to summarize- you’ve discovered Fortune can make any probability of their choice come true, you can heal because you can make some time move forward or back, that same time skip thing is also where your phasing ability comes from, and you’re incapable of effecting anything about Dio specifically. Any idea why?”

“I have a suspicion it’s because he changed his own fate with becoming a vampire. Some curses are too ancient for even me to interfere with.”

“Okay so, you’ll have to explain to me again- how does phasing work exactly?”

“Think of it this way- right now, I hold my shoe in my hand.” She lifted up the black stiletto in her hand over his chest. “Now what I do with this shoe depends on what I decide to do with it. I can decide to drop it, toss it up in the air, put it on, give it to someone jogging by- whatever. Once I decide that is the path I want it to experience, all it needs is time to do so. So I decide I’m going to toss it a few feet ahead of us. It’s going to take a few seconds to get there, yes?”

“Yes.”

“So all Fortune does is skip that time and move it straight to the time it will be laying on the floor ahead of us.”

She proved the point by demonstrating. “Got it?”

“Ahhh so THAT’S also how you heal people.”

“Now you get it.” He picked up the shoe and handed it back to her.

“So uhhh... why is it giving you grey hairs?”

Her head turned to press her ear against his back. “Time, it seems, acts a bit like money. To skip the time I have to pay the time. My body basically makes me pay for the months of healing I spare other people.”

“Are you sure? Why is it only showing now?”

“Because of the shock I suppose. I kind of wonder how many years I’ve shaved off my own life at this point. Besides- I think it’s more for moving time forward. Moving time back just gives me bad luck, I think.”

He hummed in understanding. “I see, by the way, how’s your nose?”

“Getting less blue thanks for asking.” She laughed.

The sight of the hotel lobby was her que to hop off and get back into her heels. They walked along the hallways in the hotel once more- exchanging stories of their childhoods before they were back at their doors. She gave a tired goodnight and a thank you but Polnareff called back from his room door. “Vera, I know what the corpses told you must haunt you but- I think your parents would have been proud to see where you are now.”

“Stop making me cry!”

She gave him the most authentic smile she could manage and said. “I think your family would be proud of you too.”

*abba- I might expose myself here but where I’m from, this is what we say when we piggyback someone. It’s the one local slang I think sounds cuter than piggyback lol.

[marjansmarwani]

The Boss’s Son (Part 2)

Role Reversal AU continuation

[Ao3 Link]

[Part 1]

Firefighter Carlos Reyes and Officer TK Strand get to know each other a little better and fall a little harder for each other. But the course of true love never did run smooth – Shakespeare definitely got that one right.

So this ended up being over 6K and there is more angst than I was expecting but it’s fine, they’ll be fine. I’ll tag @buttercupstrand because this was all her idea in the first place, but if anyone else wants to be added to the tag list for future updates, let me know! 

---

Carlos grinned down at his phone as yet another message from TK popped up. He was apparently having a slow day at work, and if there was one thing Carlos had learned about Officer Strand it was that the man hated paperwork.

Hence all the texts complaining about it.

You know if you just did it, it would be done, he replied.

A response popped up almost immediately.

False. Paperwork breeds at an incredible rate. It’s like rabbits. Or amoebas. There is always more paperwork.

Carlos laughed aloud at that, drawing the attention of his crewmates who were sitting in the lounge with him. He hastily slid his phone into his pocket as their questioning eyes fell on him.

“My sister,” he lied, “she was just telling me about my niece’s newest tactic to avoid naptime.”

The others seemed satisfied by this response, though Paul gave him a raised eyebrow before returning to his book. Carlos resisted the urge to heave a sigh of relief and to check his phone, which was vibrating again. There was no reason exactly he couldn’t tell his crew about this thing with TK, but dating his boss’s son still felt taboo. It wasn’t a topic he was looking to approach just yet.

Plus, dating might even be too strong of a word for what they were doing. No, whatever this was it was definitely not something he wanted out and examined under the microscope of his crew’s gossip just yet. Maybe not ever. They’d been out once, had hooked up...more than that. They texted during the day and called each other once in a while. It was good. Nice, simple. They were taking it slow.

When Carlos was sure all the eyes were off of him he pulled his phone out of his pocket to see what TK had to say.

We just got a call out, guess the paperwork will have to wait. What a shame.

The paperwork doesn’t know what it’s missing, he sent back.

I think I’ll struggle through.

Yeah, Carlos reflected as he chuckled and slid his phone back into his pocket and picked up the magazine he had been idly pursing, it was going pretty well - whatever it was.

---

The station alarms had blared shortly after his last exchange with TK, so Carlos was not all that surprised to see him when they arrived at the office building. He was surprised by everything else though, from the woman who had apparently jumped through a tempered glass window right down to the man TK was currently restraining from stabbing himself with a fork. In short, chaos.

TK handed his charge over to an officer who had just arrived and met them at the door, nodding to his dad before starting with the rundown. “I was first on scene,” he explained curtly, “In addition to the jumpers, there have also been 4 people trying to stab themselves and various others that just feel generally unwell. We’ve cordoned off everyone still standing over there,” he paused to gesture over towards the cubicles beyond the conference table, “and out special response teams are on their way. You should also know that all these symptoms came without warning,” he finished grimly.

Carlos exchanged a look with Marjan as he pulled out the chromatograph. It was standard procedure, but there was no way this was airborne. But he still needed to check because, on the off chance that it was, they could all be in serious danger.  

A quick scan confirmed his suspicions that nothing was airborne. Marjan nodded as he relayed the news, “if it were airborne there’d be 40 people down, not 9.”

“So what’s causing it?” he asked as he stowed the chromatograph back into its case.”

TK shrugged as he walked past them, hurrying to help his partner with another victim, “that’s the million-dollar question, isn’t it?”

The next few minutes were like nothing Carlos had ever seen before. He had been a firefighter for almost 6 years now, and while that may not be very long in the grand scheme of things, he had always felt that he had seen his fair share of strange happenings. This though was one for the record books. At one point he found himself next to TK, helping him to restrain a woman who was trying to dig her own veins out with her nails.

“I bet that paperwork sounds pretty good right now,” he said lowly to the other man as Tim tried his best to bandage her arms securely.

TK gave a dry chuckle, “I don’t know, it might be a tie.”

Carlos rolled his eyes but lost his chance to respond when the woman tried to lash out again and he was forced to move around to get a better grip and prevent her from gouging Tim’s eyes out as well as her own arm.  

He was changing his gloves a few minutes later when TK popped up at his shoulder again, eyes narrowed as he watched Paul poking around by the conference table, “Why do I feel like he’s doing a thing?”

Carlos followed his gaze to see Paul examining the debris left over from the lunch meeting, “he’s totally doing a thing,” he confirmed.

TK nodded and watched, not taking his eyes off of Paul even as he responded to his radio, confirming that yes, he really did want the building locked down. When Paul announced that he knew who did it, TK glanced at Carlos but followed Paul back to the conference table without a word.

Carlos could see Paul reach for a sandwich and gingerly remove the top half of the ciabatta roll. His voice was grim when he announced, “mercury.” Carlos glanced over at Michelle, who did not look pleased to have her suspicions confirmed. He heard TK swear softly before speaking into his radio, “Dispatch, be advised we have a suspect in the incidents at 701 Brazos. Details for an APB to follow.”

Once he switched off his radio he turned to face the CEO, “I’m going to need to know everything about your catering today,” he said curtly, “including why someone from this restaurant would want to poison your entire staff.”

The CEO looked baffled but began rambling off details about the restaurant and their catering contract. Carlos exchanged a glance with Paul, who was still holding the poisoned sandwich. His crewmate merely shook his head, replacing the top of the sandwich and setting it back on the tray.  

The next hour passed quickly. Now that they knew what they were dealing with, they knew what to look for and how to address it. It was well-controlled chaos, commanded by the combined brilliance of Captains Blake and Strand. Carlos clapped a hand on Michelle’s shoulder as they got the last of the victims loaded onto gurneys. “Nice work Chica,” he told her with a smile.

She returned it, even if it was a bit strained. “I just can’t believe anyone would do this,” she said with a shake of her head, “what kind of person does this?”

Carlos shrugged, “I don’t know, but I’m sure we’ll soon find out. It sounded like APD had a plan to draw whoever it is out.” He looked up to see Marjan gesturing for him to come over from the doorway. “I better go see what she wants,” he told Michelle, “I’ll see you later Chica. Remember, you did amazing today.” She gave him a grateful smile that he returned, before heading over to join his teammate. Marjan was impatiently waiting for him and grabbed his arm as soon as he was closer enough, dragging him behind her.

“Come on,” she said as they headed towards the lobby, “Officer Strand needs our help.”

Carlos was too stunned to ask questions, even if he had been given a chance to. Next thing he knew they were outside, waiting by the ladder truck. “What are we waiting for?” he asked.

Marjan grinned, “We called in an order to the place where they got their lunch. We’re going to wait for the delivery guy here and as soon as we can confirm that he’s the one who did it, Officer Strand and friends will swoop in and arrest the guy.” She was practically vibrating with excitement. Carlos raised a skeptical eyebrow at her, “Adrenaline junkie much?”

She didn’t even bother to deny it, they both knew it was true. “Oh c’mon Carlos,” she said instead, “do you want to help catch a killer? Or at least,” she added with a devilish grin, “see a certain police officer in action.”

He rolled his eyes at her and sincerely hoped it was too dark for her to be able to see the blush creeping up his cheeks. He was saved the trouble of responding by a sedan pulling up. A man in a green polo with the restaurant logo embroidered on it climbed out, hands full of bags. He glanced down at the paper in his hand, “I’ve got an order for Ladder 126?”

Carlos spared a glance at Marjan who shrugged before walking towards the man. He adopted his “polite phone voice,” as his sister called it, and called out “That would be us, thanks.”

The guy grinned as he handed over the bags, “No worries, always happy to help out our first responders.”

Marjan flashed him a winning smile, “That’s so sweet of you. What would really be helpful though would be not poisoning people with mercury. It would save us a lot of time and trouble, you understand.”

Carlos studied the delivery man as his face fell and fear spread across his features. He turned to bolt towards his car and Carlos was about to make a move to stop him when he heard TK’s voice ring out through the night air, “Freeze, APD!” Carlos tracked his voice to find him emerging from the shadows of the rig flanked by two other officers, gun drawn and expression serious.

Carlos fully understood the gravity of the situation at hand. He was painfully aware that the man in front of them was responsible for the death of several people, and the injury of many others. He had seen the devastation that he had caused firsthand, but that did not change the fact that he could not take his eyes off of TK.

He looked like an entirely different person. The person in front of him was a world away from the sweet and funny guy he had been getting to know. This man was focused and stoic. There was not a trace of his easy smile or quick humor. There was only determination and disdain for the person who could do this, could cause the destruction they had seen here tonight.

It was really hot.

Carlos wanted to feel bad for even thinking that at a time like this, but there was no denying that Officer Strand was sexy as hell. Carlos could think of a few ways they could maybe spice up their nights, but he pushed those aside. Appreciating the sight before him was one thing; fantasizing about his boss’s son on the job was entirely another.

He turned and walked away, heading inside to begin packing up their equipment. The sound of the cuffs clicking on the wrists of the irate delivery man brought a smile to his face. This may be a disaster unlike anything Carlos had ever seen, but at least the man responsible would be facing justice and would never be able to do this again.

Once the victims had been transported there was little to do but pack up. They did so quickly, and once they were back in the truck, Carlos pulled out his phone. He opened his messages and considered for a moment before he started typing.

Good work today Officer, he typed out. He paused for a minute but hit send. A response came almost immediately.

You didn’t do too bad yourself. See you tonight?

This time, Carlos didn’t hesitate. He knew exactly what he wanted to say.

Count on it.

----

Carlos anxiously checked everything on the table one more time. TK was due to show up any minute, and he wanted to make sure everything was perfect. They had been keeping things casual, but Carlos would be lying to himself if he didn’t admit that his feelings for the officer were anything but casual. He wasn’t sure exactly when it had happened, but he had fallen hard for TK Strand.

That realization had led him to another: he barely knew anything about the other man. He knew that he was a cop, he knew that he was from New York, he knew that he was his boss’s son. That was it.

Well, that and the fact that he was amazing in bed.

Still, it didn’t feel like enough. He wanted to know more about this guy that made his heart race. He wanted to make a real go of this thing they had, and this was the first step in that direction.

Grand gestures, right?

The knock on his front door startled him so badly he almost spilled the bottle of champagne he had just finished pouring into glasses. He set it down gently and crossed to the door, smoothing his shirt as he went. He opened the door only to have the other man latch onto him immediately, his mouth finding him and his hands sliding down his chest, pulling at his shirt.

Carlos smiled into the kiss, returning it with almost as much vigor. He let it happen for a few more moments, savoring the rush that he felt before gently pulling away. When TK made to follow him and continue, he put a hand on his chest and used the other to gesture towards the table.

“Why don’t we have something to eat first?” he suggested.

TK grumbled but allowed himself to be led to the table. He took the seat offered and gazed at Carlos with suspicious eyes as he rounded the table to his own.

“What is all this?” he asked.

Carlos settled into his seat, “I figured it would be nice if we actually spoke in person for more than 4 minutes at least once. Don’t worry, we can have mind-blowing sex later, but I’d like to get to know the person I’m sleeping with a little bit.”

“Why?”

The question was harsher than Carlos had been expecting. Actually, a quick survey told Carlos that TK’s body language was a whole lot more hostile than he had been expecting. He could feel himself stiffening in response. He hadn’t known how TK would respond to this, but openly hostile had not been on his list. He continued on though, picking up his glass of champagne. He looked significantly at TK’s glass, but he didn’t move. If anything, his expression hardened.

Carlos’s glass was still held aloft, so he trudged ahead. “To new beginnings,” he said, raising his glass. His heart sank when he saw that this was clearly a one-sided endeavor. He set down his glass and looked at TK expectantly, “Are you going to say anything? Maybe comment on the fact that I clearly spent time on this, or that the table is set well?”

He tried to lean into humor, to use it as a shield. It was a weak one as TK’s next words shattered it with one blow.

“I’m sorry,” he said tightly, standing up from the table, “I think we have clearly gotten our signals crossed.”

He stood up and was about to walk away, but Carlos wasn’t about to let this happen. “What, you’re just leaving?”

“We clearly want different things Carlos; I don’t see much point in staying.”

“Different…” Carlos couldn’t believe what he was hearing, what he was seeing, “it’s dinner TK, not a marriage proposal.”

Carlos knew it wasn’t his imagination this time when he saw TK stiffen.

“I thought I had been perfectly clear,” he said coldly, turning to face Carlos, “this is not what I wanted. I just hadn’t realized you were living in a fantasy. Sorry to say that I’m not in it. Actually, not that sorry, come to think of it.”

They stood in silence for a while, the echoes and ramifications of TK’s words bouncing around them. Finally, Carlos spoke, “I’m sorry,” he said clearly, deliberately, “if I wanted to take the time to get to know the guy I was spending time with. I’m sorry that I wanted to do this right, that I expected some buy-in to this relationship considering the risk I am taking in dating my boss’s son.”

When TK’s laugh came it, was cold and hollow.

“I don’t even know where to begin with all of that. Let’s start with the fact that no one asked you to date me. We were just meeting up, who cares that you work with my dad? Secondly – and I want to make this painfully clear – there is no relationship. It was just sex, nothing more.”

He was quiet after that, letting his words sink in. After a few moments, he shook his head, “I’m sorry you went through all the trouble, but this is not going to work for me. Call me if you ever feel like rejoining me in reality. Otherwise, lose my number.

And just like that, he was gone.

Carlos sank into his chair, mind reeling. What the actual fuck had just happened?

Keep reading on Ao3

[kaiserin-erzsebet]

I saw your tags under the Heathers post and I wanted to ask about it! I've never seen neither of them, but I've been meaning to for quite some time, so... Why do you think the movie is better than the musical? (+Maybe what differences there are/what would you suggest? I've only heard a few songs from the musical and I only understood that there is one obsessed guy who wants to make the school explode as a bonding activity with his girlfriend, who doesn't really support this... Endeavor of his?)

I’m a little amazed anyone is interested in my thoughts on this, but thank you for asking anon.

I will start by saying that both are good and worth seeing. I personally think the movie is better for a number of reasons, but I wouldn’t say the musical is bad (and the songs are quite catchy)

Long rambling answer under the cut.

The first big one that I will go on about at some length is characterization. Frankly, I don’t like that Veronica gets more of a Mean Girls storyline in the musical. The movie starts with her being friends with the Heathers, and doesn’t give us a clear backstory on how she got there. From her narration, we can infer that she’s friends with them because skipping a grade made her feel out of place, and she ended up with popular friends out of a desire to be liked. But, we can infer that they have been friends for a while, given the way that they talk to each other. Like the implication that their croquet games are something they do fairly often, and that Heather Chandler is always the red ball. Heather Mcnamara specifically talks to her like someone who has been friends with each other for a while. Heather Chandler has a picture of them together in her locker. Veronica’s parents also don’t make any comments about her new friends, so we can infer that this isn’t a new development. The impact this has is that, even though she doesn’t like them sometimes, they are still people she cares about and has social ties to.

The musical, on the other hand, has her join their social group at the beginning of the musical. Which I think undercuts her character a little, because these aren’t people she is sincerely friends with. They’re people she’s effectively been hanging out with for a week. It makes the impact different. She can’t make snarky quips back at Heather C the way she can in the movie, or roll her eyes because her friends are doing something bitchy again.

The musical also makes one change in particular that irks me about Veronica: she’s not as smart as she is in the movie. To give a concrete example: in the movie Veronica figures out how JD rigged the bombs, because she listened to his dad talk about demolition. In the musical, he tells her, because she hasn’t figure it out herself. It’s a little change, but it does undervalue her intelligence as a character.

The change to her relationship with the Heathers makes it so that we don’t get one of the moments from the movie that I would argue really understands high school bullying. Candy Store, as great as it may be as a musical number, is a song about peer pressure to turn on a friend. But in the movie, Veronica never was friends with Martha, and this moment is more about neutrality and apathy. Veronica says, “I don’t have anything against Martha Dunstock” and Heather C replies, “You don’t have anything for her either.” Which is an excellent point about why someone goes along with bullying. It isn’t actively turning against someone they like, it is being apathetic about someone being cruel to someone they don’t care about one way or the other.

Who does have a history of friendship with Martha? Heather Duke, who says absolutely nothing about it.

Also, Dead Girl Walking inverts the scene and inadvertently erases the second red flag about JD. In the movie, he shows up at her house, and “how’d you find my address?” is something she really should have asked. It hints that his infatuation with her is not healthy.

Now, to stop banging on about Veronica for a moment. The Heathers have also been flattened as characters. Particularly Heather Chandler, which may come as a surprise to some people. She’s a bitch in the movie, and she’s a bitch in the musical. As much as I love the line “she is a mythic bitch,” there is an issue.

The movie never really gives you her inner thoughts. It does hint that she is more complex than Veronica thinks. The college party really is a telling section of the movie, because there is a scene of statutory r*pe with Heather Chandler. She is pressured into oral sex by an adult man because she has to if she wants to be “cool.” That is followed by a scene of her trying to rinse out her mouth in the bathroom. Then she looks at herself in the mirror and spits water violently at her own reflection. There are two things that are important here: 1. She is not powerful outside of a high school setting. She is still an underage girl being used by an adult. 2. She is disgusted with herself.

Next, the inspiration for the suicide note is a copy of The Bell Jar in Heather’s room. If you take a step back, this is very odd. This girl who supposedly only cares about looks and popularity has a copy of a book by Sylvia Plath specifically about depression and self worth issues. The implication of all these pieces is that Heather C might actually have issues Veronica does not know about.

The musical gives us ghost Heather being snarky about the suicide note (”You’re making me sound like Air Supply”, “I’m bigger than John Lenon”). Which takes a lot of the nuance out of her story, because it takes for granted that everything Veronica made up was wrong.

Heather Duke being described as having “no discernible personality” is particularly annoying, because she does in the movie. She is torn between being bookish and being popular. She caries a copy of Moby Dick. She is convinced to give up her personality in exchange for JD never revealing that she used to be best friends with Martha. She compromises herself for popularity, despite having a personality. That’s the point of her storyline. And on a side note, including, “her mother payed for implants” about a teenage girl who has intense body image issues and bulimia is at least a little gross.

Heather Mcnamara is such a minor character that there is less to say about her. But her genuine insecurity about boys is very sincere in the movie, and the way that Ram’s “suicide” impacted her is telling, even if he was an asshole. And the scene of Veronica comforting her in the bathroom is one of the more touching moments of friendship.

The theme of the movie is much more “being in high school and having social expectations placed on you about being cool is very difficult” and much less “don’t abandon your friends for popular people.” The end of the movie shows that the solution to “living in a society” is not to harm people more by burning it to the ground or blowing it up. The solution is to reject the expectations of society and to reach out to those who are the most put upon by it, as Veronica does by offering to hang out with Martha - who she has had no connection to up until that point in the movie.

t.l.d.r The characterizations in the movie have more nuance than the musical.

[clansayeed]

Bound by Destiny II, part 1 ― Chapter 13: The Party

PAIRING: Kamilah Sayeed x MC (Nadya Al Jamil) RATING: Mature

⥼ MASTERLIST ⥽

⥼ Bound by Destiny II, part 1 ⥽

While struggling with nightmares of lives she’s never lived, a shadow from the past looming over her city, and the proposed idea that her life may just be a little bit too weird to handle alone, Nadya makes sure to tell herself that everything is perfect just the way it is. If only. When the self-proclaimed King of Vampires (and Maker of her sometimes-girlfriend and always-boss, can’t forget that little tidbit) Gaius Augustine returns intent on claiming Manhattan as the throne that was promised, she and her friends find themselves forced into the task of saving the world. But with millennia-old vampires and an Order of hunters on their heels as well as allies hiding catastrophic secrets at their backs… it won’t be an easy task. Too bad destiny didn’t exactly ask for her input.

Bound by Destiny II and the rest of the Oblivion Bound series is an ongoing dramatic retelling project of the Bloodbound series and spin-off, Nightbound. Find out more [HERE].

*Let me know if you would like to be added to the Destiny II tag list!

⥼ Chapter Summary ⥽

It's been one whole year since Lily was Turned and she refuses to let it be a bummer. Time to party!

[READ IT ON AO3]

Nadya’s glad she never has to explain to anyone what the Shadow Den looked like before Jax joined the Council and made the Clanless, well, not-so-Clanless. It’s just such a different place. Sometimes that dark and dim tiny-flame-in-the-endless-night hopeful sanctuary for anyone seeking it seems like a distant dream rather than a memory.

Even if she tried, too, Nadya’s not quite so sure they would believe her.

That being said — Maricruz has really outdone herself.

Every bodega and small store in the city must be sold out of string lights. Not that Nadya’s complaining; all the bulbs put together like this form a weird kind of heated-lamp effect and being underground in the middle of January had been one of her biggest concerns about tonight.

The unofficial Fountain Square is a dazzling sight with multicolored fairy lights — and whatever stall can have streamers does have streamers stretching the whole length of the party. It’s kind of jarring when she spots the cutoff point. How everything just drops off into a dark abyss. But right now there’s probably no place safer on the entire island.

Adrian tucks his present higher under his arm and takes in the decorations with equal bewilderment. “I wonder where they’re siphoning the electricity from.”

There’s a little frown creasing between his eyebrows as he says it. Nadya knows that look and quickly diverts his attention. She doesn’t know either but she has a feeling the answer isn’t exactly on the right side of the law.

“I can’t believe you guys don’t do this for everyone.” This; a celebration for a successful year as a newbie-vampire. “Imagine what kind of party I could throw for you.”

Why is he looking at her like that? What does a 200 year old vampire have to be afraid of? Her party-planning skills are excellent, thank you very much. Or had he already forgotten the Fourth of July?

“Well, remember Nadya that for many people — especially around here — their Turning wasn’t something to look back on fondly.”

“Lily’s wasn’t.”

He’ll give her that. “Touché.” But his point still stands. “I can’t speak for some of the younger ones, but I definitely don’t remember the date on which I was Turned.”

“Because colonial America used different calendars?”

“Because we were in the middle of a war.” Which is a fair point, so Nadya concedes.

Only they’ve brought up his Turning — so of course Adrian goes uncomfortably quiet beside her. Thoughts lost a long time ago and with company way less cool than those at present. So instead she hooks her arm in his and points forward to where the alley of casual attendees empties out into the heart of the Square.

Hard to believe nearly a year ago they had sat in this very spot, Adrian on the run and Nadya just trying to keep up with everyone. They had sat together on the rim of the old memorial fountain and she just knew the weight of the injustice was something he demanded to carry. “So do something about it,” she had said — an offhanded thing when they were safe and sound.

But he had.

He had wanted to have a brand-new fountain made especially for the Shadow Den. Jax had refused, which was an argument Nadya’s too happy to recall at the moment, but his reasons were sound. Instead they worked together to renovate the one already down here. It wasn’t just a place to remember the lost and mourned; it was as much a part of the community as Jax, or Lily, or even little Lula.

Now, with cracks filled-in and worn edges sanded back to definition, the memorial stone in the heart of the Shadow Den was no longer something to avoid looking at. Now the pictures and names and memories of gone loved ones could be celebrated. As they were meant to.

Adrian takes it in; his passion project, his apology letter to the Clanless community. This can never make up for what we’ve done — but it’s a place to start. He starts blinking rapidly and Nadya squeezes his arm to draw him out of his somber appreciation.

Lily would kill her if she found out someone was crying at her party.

They leave their presents on a small pile by the fountain rim. What did you get someone for surviving death for the first time around — well Lily hadn’t wanted presents so much as the party itself, but if anyone wanted to bring something for the community they were more than welcome to.

As if Nadya could ever attend a party and not bring a gift.

“Nadi’Nadi’Nadi’Nadi’!”

Incoming. She braces herself for literal impact and somehow still manages to stumble as the whirlwind of child vampire comes at her like a tiny freight train. Pulls little Lula back to hold her at arms’ length and grin down at those tiny fangs and sparkling eyes.

“Hey kiddo,” she takes care not to ruffle the young girl’s hair, done up all special for the party with curls that look suspiciously like Maricruz’s, “wow, look at your dress!”

Lula spins in her frilly little frock, on one foot and with arms spread out, while her stuffed elephant is dangerously close to being hurled into oblivion. “D’you like it, do you do you doyou?”

“I feel like I’m looking at a movie star.”

Nadya elbows Adrian for good measure. He startles only a bit this time. “Absolutely,” he agrees, “you look like a little Shirley Temple.”

“Who?” Lula asks with her head cocked, and Nadya quickly slaps her hand over her mouth to stifle her laughter.

“I’m gonna let you handle that one.”

And if he’s going to try and get out of it the way Lula suddenly latches onto him insisting she knows stops that in its tracks. Nadya just winks and skirts off while she still can.

Because there’s only one place to find Lily Spencer at any party — and that’s exactly where Nadya finds her. Digging around in the wires underneath what looks like a pretty expensive DJ rig with wire strippers between her teeth and tangled electrical tape in her determined grasp.

She crouches down and taps Lily on the forehead. “Anything I can do?”

“I’ll call you if I want it to break.”

Not that they don’t grin at one another — Nadya’s fully aware of her technological ineptitude. Still she makes herself comfortable to watch a master work her art.

“You remember this is your party, right?”

“Uh-huh, your point?”

“Shouldn’t someone else be doing that?”

Stupid questions get stupid answers; in this case a look that’s so withering Nadya will see it every time she so much as trips on a shoelace. So she tries something else; “Where’re Mari and Jax?”

Lily spits out the roll of tape and Nadya grabs it before it can disappear in the crowd of feet. “Jax and Arnold are bringing in the kegs. Someone needed a boss so Mari went off. Hand me that, no, that thing right — no to your left.”

“You just said right!”

“Your other right!”

Lily all but yanks the god-knows-what from her hand and Nadya flicks her roommate’s nose for the trouble. “Don’t hang out under here for too long, okay?”

“Nadya — I can’t just sit by and not have a banger playlist going at a party with my name on it.”

“Really, will the party gods cast you out?” She feigns surprise, and quickly scrambles off of the small temporary stage before divine retribution comes upon her.

“You’d better run, Al Jamil!”

Only… Lily can’t see around the booth, so she doesn’t know just how right she is.

After all, why would anything ever go right for her? Why would she think she could enjoy a nice party and not turn to physically collide into the one person she had hoped she could just… yearn at from a safe and wistful distance?

Kamilah catches her faster than it takes her to realize she’s falling. Hands steady on her upper arms, making sure she’s not about to keel over and end up a pool of blood on the concrete underfoot.

Talk about falling head-over-heels.

“Uh — thanks for that…” says Nadya sheepishly, but Kamilah doesn’t respond. She just stares, eyes practically squinting, before leaning back with a nod.

“What,” Nadya pales, “something on my face?”

The woman shakes her head. “No. I was merely checking to make sure you had your contacts in.”

Oh. “Y-Yeah. Lily likes to — well this dance she invented is just spinning around and with her new speed I really didn’t want them to pistol-whip someone in the face.” Is she rambling?

Wow, she’s rambling. And Kamilah notices it too; likely in the same moment. The smile it gets is small but there. Like a secret between them even in the small crowd.

It makes Nadya feel not-so-bad for having one of her own.

“Thanks for coming,” she switches the subject quickly, “dunno if you know but… it—it means a lot to Lil’.” And to me.

Kamilah’s words are careful and measured. “Well then, you may tell Lily that I am grateful for the invitation. And wouldn’t turn down the opportunity to see her… enjoying herself.”

So this is a thing they’re going to be doing, huh.

Before Nadya can answer there’s a shrill whistle that makes the entire crowd—save herself—flinch. Sensitive vampires and whistles do not go well together.

A gaggle of angry glares all whip over to where Jax is smirking at the entrance to another alley of stalls. He lowers his fingers from his lips and motions at them with a wave. Before Kamilah even gets the chance to consider declining, Nadya nudges her with insistence. “Come on, we’re not gonna be those people.”

“And which people would that be?”

“The ones who get social restraining orders on each other.”

She doesn’t mention it, but Nadya doesn’t miss the little bit of relief that crosses Kamilah’s face under a string of purple lights.

Jax has alcohol (some thankfully not from a keg, though she knows Lily can and will live her fantasy of a keg-stand at some point tonight) which, thank god honestly. It helps that he’s with her too — because someone has to be here to back her up when Nadya will try to convince the world Kamilah takes a bottle of cheap beer from Arnold with a thanks and a long drink.

Adrian joins them shortly after; the huff he gives at Nadya with no real heat behind it. “Nu-uh,” she drinks her cider to avoid laughing too hard, “you dated yourself back there, old man.” Which makes Jax and Kamilah give equally confused looks — so of course the laughter can’t be contained.

Halfway through her bottle there’s blowback on unseen speakers — followed by chill-yet-classy electronica. When Lily’s sliding in with a manic delight that could only mean she’s ready to do something crazy…

Though she wants to wait for her grand ‘stand until Maricruz can admire her for it.

The music acts like a beacon. Summons vampires and humans alike from their scattered conversations and to the Square for dancing. Lily doesn’t give Nadya a choice in joining her — but her two left feet are a compliment to her best friend’s two right ones and they make it work.

Jax, too, gets dragged in with them — who in their right minds could possibly turn down Lula for anything, ever — and its with absolute amusement that Nadya watches the older seamstress Evelyn accost Adrian for something that’s a little too much like a swing for the current beats-per-minute.

And then there was one.

Under the guise of “needing a change in pace ohmygod,” Lily shoves Nadya away and heads back to the stereo stage. Only someone horrendously oblivious would think she wasn’t trying to do the obvious.

It’s Kamilah. Kamilah is horrendously oblivious.

She looks down at Nadya’s offered hand with lips pursed. “This isn’t the sort of music I’m… familiar with dancing to.”

“You think anyone actually does?”

Together they look out to the dance floor. Nadya’s point is proven in every direction, and then some.

“Nadya…”

But it isn’t dancing that has Kamilah hesitating. It makes perfect sense — Nadya was stupid for thinking they even could. “Nope, you’re right, my bad. I’ll —”

The familiarity of her hand is astounding. A drink of cool water on a blistering summer day. Nadya remembers a distant thought — that she had been happy to give up those sunny afternoons without a look back if it meant being with Kamilah.

And now; laughing until she’s pink in the face while showing a two thousand year old vampire how to improvise a groove?

She still would.

An hour and a second bottle later and Nadya’s sure she might die. No really, this is what dying feels like. Tightness in her chest, she can’t breathe, tongue dry and heavy in her mouth and her pulse racing through her body and pounding in her temples.

And just what will she say with her dying breath?

“Groovy moves, Jax!”

Thus Nadya can depart this world peacefully — or at the very least fall back into Adrian in absolute hilarity with the knowledge he won’t let her fall.

Jax glares but doesn’t let it stop him. He keeps on hustling, keeps on murdering Nadya with every jerky thrust of his hips.

Cause of death: aggressive hustle.

Though if she doesn’t get some air she’ll get dizzy at the very least. Adrian helps her back by the impromptu bar where Kamilah leans against a support column.

“I was under the impression we as a society had agreed to leave disco behind.”

Adrian snorts a laugh. “You did, but I’m pretty sure you were the only one.”

“If you ever visited a disco you must have done so behind my back.”

“No, but I can’t begrudge people going out and having a good time.”

“Ah yes, I forgot who I was talking to,” Kamilah rolls her eyes so hard it makes Nadya’s head hurt, “you’ve always been Mister Fun Entertainment.”

“Hey —”

She would be happy to watch the pair of them go at it all night, really. But when Adrian stops mid-sentence its enough to make both Nadya and Kamilah turn to see where Lily is running towards them… and with an all-too-familiar widened panic in her eyes.

Just one thing, can’t they have just one thing?

“What is the matter?” Kamilah sets on her immediately, but Lily ignores her for Nadya.

“You need to come quick.”

“Where’ve you been?” She distantly remembers maybe hearing Lily call out for her girlfriend, who had been mysteriously absent for how excited she was to throw this thing. “Lil’, what’s wrong?”

“Too much talking, not enough walking.”

Lily starts to shove Nadya down the way she’d come. The older vampires follow hot on their heels.

“Lil’ — stop shoving me I’m gonna fall. I’m com—I’m coming, okay? Jeez…” She has to practically force Lily to let her walk on her own two feet. And still with no questions answered.

“They’re just up ahead.”

They. Why does Nadya’s stomach fall out of her butt at that? Probably because the only ‘they’ in her life lately have been crazy killer lovers, maybe, possibly?

“Come on, stop for a second.”

“No, I don’t wanna leave her alone with him for long.”

Well now Nadya’s thoroughly lost. Thankfully when she looks behind to the others she doesn’t seem to be the only one.

Lily takes them all passed the unofficial border of the party; where the lights don’t reach but a few stragglers chat and feed with donor’s permission by candlelight. The farther they go the worse her anxiety; but there’s no stopping now.

They finally round the roasted cashew cart and her brain doesn’t really register the fact that there’s nothing to immediately panic about.

Maricruz looks up at them with her arms crossed over her chest, expression set grim. Behind her Nadya vaguely recognizes the entry to one of the Den’s closed-off feeding areas — because apparently performance anxiety was a thing vampires could have.

“Are you okay baby?” Lily asks, and immediately slots herself against the other woman’s side. Maricruz nods and kisses her temple — but it’s an absent act; a physical reaction. Her mind is definitely elsewhere.

“‘M fine, cariña.”

“But —”

“He’s almost done.”

He pushes aside the curtain before Nadya, Adrian, or Kamilah can even begin to process what’s going on. He has to duck because obviously the Den wasn’t built with people his height in mind.

Cadence thumbs away a drop of blood from the corner of his mouth almost sheepishly. Despite having—apparently—just fed he looks haggard; hair tied back in a messy ponytail but falling around his face almost gaunt in the hollows of his cheeks.

He hauls up the strap of his shoulder bag a bit higher and only then realizes they have company. Even his smile is exhausted.

Nadya knows that if she opens her mouth right now the only thing that will come out is some variation of “what the literal crap” so she does the smart thing… and keeps it shut.

But… is anybody gonna say anything? Anything at all?

“You know this man?” asks Kamilah, clipped and curt behind her. It takes Nadya a second to realize she’s asking Maricruz.

The smuggler kicks at the dirt under her heel. “Kinda.”

Adrian almost sounds relieved. “Cadence — what are you doing in New York?”

When did you get here? Why didn’t you tell Kathy? How the heck is this my life right now? Nadya still doesn’t say a word though which is probably for the best.

Though, thankfully, her stomach totally bottomed out on the run over here. So when the blond vampire looks right at her there’s nowhere lower it could possibly go.

“I’m here because I need the Bloodkeeper’s help.”

Silence.

When someone speaks; Nadya’s as surprised as any of them when she recognizes the voice as her own.

“We should talk about this somewhere else.”

“I agree.”

“C’mon,” Maricruz jerks her head back to the heart of the Shadow Den; the party still swings without them, “we’ll go back to Matsuo’s.”

Not that they have many other options — and even if they did Maricruz is already marching on, Lily’s hand in hers, very much not looking back. They all start to follow — or nearly all.

They’re already around a corner when Nadya notices Kamilah isn’t with them.

She looks back and the look on the vampiress’ face is… scary. Part of that fear is because she recognizes it too-well; because it’s the reason the two of them are the way they are right now.

The rest of it is because it’s so sudden; it takes Nadya by surprise.

“Kamilah?” she calls, and distantly hears the footsteps ahead of her stop, “Are you coming?”

It almost looks like she isn’t.

Then one step forward, and another, like she’s remembering how to walk. Nadya follows slow and purposefully at her side the whole way there.

The first thing Nadya realizes once the door closes behind them — she’s stuck in a tiny apartment full of vampires. And it’s not like control has ever been on her side when it comes to these kinds of things.

Hopefully it won’t take long.

“I take it you haven’t made much progress with the Amulet?” Cadence asks, though judging by the already apologetic way he looks at Nadya he already knows the answer. “I see, I’m sorry to know that.”

“Why are you here?” It’s Kamilah who cuts to the chase; abrupt and almost rude; and she’s not the only one who realizes it.

Adrian throws Kamilah a look but it isn’t returned. She hasn’t looked away from Cadence from the moment he’d left the feeding den.

To his credit, the blond vampire remains calm even under her aggressive scrutiny. Not many can. “I came to try and help if I could. I spent a decade trying to find it; and though it might not have been any use to me personally I thought some of my research —” he pats the bag now resting in his lap, “— might prove useful.”

Which is great if it’s true. But Kamilah’s suspicion might just be rubbing off on her. Something about his attitude isn’t holding up.

“Why doesn’t Kathy know where you are?”

He doesn’t look away fast enough. Nadya doesn’t miss the flash of pain over his features. “This was an impulsive decision. I was going to tell her once I’d settled in… and once you had decided whether or not to accept my help.”

Adrian’s arms cross over his chest. “When did you arrive?”

“Just this afternoon. I spent the daylight hours at the train station and sought you out the moment I could. I have no desire to repeat what happened with Izzy.”

“Good move on your part.”

But Kamilah isn’t having it.

“I thought I was clear when I told you never to return to New York. Should I have followed it with a threat?”

“The threat was well-implied, Miss Sayeed.”

“And yet here you are.”

“I would think the threat the Amulet’s secrets pose were worth the risk.” He raises an eyebrow; meets her toe-to-toe and doesn’t back down. Nadya would be impressed if she didn’t know how badly things like this usually ended. And not against Kamilah’s favor.

“Do not speak to me of risks. I know better than anyone —”

Then Adrian is between them; Nadya didn’t register the distance slowly closing between the confronting vampires until he’s got a hand on each one’s shoulder and, from the looks of it, struggling to hold his fellow Council member back.

“Kamilah,” he tries to chide; actually has to swerve his head to get her to look away from Cadence and at him, “why are you acting like this?”

She doesn’t answer, but Nadya can guess pretty well on her own. Can’t say she hasn’t been feeling a little of that apprehension rolling off of the woman in waves herself, but she’s hoping it’s just Bloodkeeper projecting and not something she really feels.

But Cadence takes her silence as an opportunity to back down; literally. Instead he looks to Nadya.

“Not only that, but I wanted to apologize to you; to all of you.”

“For what?” Which might just be her stupidest question to date.

“For my actions at Persephone, and for not being there to try and give this kind of help before. But when night fell and I was able to get to the others, you’d already left Louisiana.”

She shrugs. “It was important we got back.” She had things to do after all. Vampires to break up with. Relationships to ruin. Depression to cry over.

“Of course, and I understand that. And I won’t do you the disservice of sitting here and saying my actions and intentions are entirely altruistic ones. I want to help you because it’s the right thing to do. But I hope you might return my offer with help of your own. Help only you, Nadya, can provide.”

And there it is. I’m here because I need the Bloodkeeper’s help.

Nadya holds up a hand to her friends before they can say anything in her stead. Whether they were planning to or not — she deserves the chance to speak first. They can’t begrudge her that, can they?

It’s her power. She can do what she wants with it. And frankly, after all the grief it’s caused her, the thought of doing some good with it is nice.

“You want me to try and find your memories.”

“Yes,” and it helps that he seems almost apologetic for asking, “because I hate to admit it — and I think I’ve been avoiding admitting it for some time now — you might be the only avenue I have left. Every single lead has come up dry. It’s been a century now… and I’m tired of getting my hopes up if I’m honest.”

Nadya wrings her hands together in her lap. “I don’t… I mean I want to help, Cadence, please understand that. And if I know that I can then yeah, let’s do it. But this isn’t something I have control of. I don’t even know if it’ll work.”

“It will.”

“I thought you weren’t getting your hopes up?”

“You misunderstand, see I know it will — because it already has.”

The only one who doesn’t look surprised is Maricruz, but she also doesn’t seem to have been paying attention since this began. She looks at Lily and judges the context from there.

Though even among those in the know the reactions are mixed. Adrian looks the good kind of surprised and that’s sensible; he was the first one to try and help after all. But Kamilah couldn’t be more opposite; she melts the emotion away easily but not before Nadya has a chance to see it for what it is — fear.

And Cadence, well, he’s getting kind of excited. “I’ve always known I served on account of the uniform, but I’ve never had a lick of a memory about the war itself. But now I do, Nadya, I do. It was so small, a roaring engine and fellow soldiers and what I think were bombs falling in the trenches. All fragments, really. Beautiful, wonderfully complex and confusing fragments. And it’s all thanks to you.” He leans forward and takes her hands in his. Nadya can’t tell if she’s the one shaking, or he is, or maybe they both are.

“Flechette, remember? You and Izzy.”

And she definitely remembers now. Awakening from unconsciousness, Isadora de la Rosa having been digging around in her head like she was an abandoned bin of winter clothes in the back of a garage. Cadence had been unconscious, and when he’d come to…

He sees the recognition across her face. “I should apologize for that, too. I couldn’t wrap my mind around it, and it was so fleeting… but you know how strange it is, don’t you. To have your entire life, all the things you can point to and know and name, and then suddenly there’s something new. Something you can feel in your bones is the truth.”

When Nadya swallows it feels like there’s glass in her throat. “And… you’re looking around, and you know what’s going to happen next because you—you lived it. But then you didn’t, and you’re still surprised.”

“But like a dream it never lasts long.”

“And you’re left wondering what was real and what was your imagination. Yes.”

If Nadya had known how good it would feel to have someone understand — actually understand; not because the memories were theirs but because they didn’t know what was going on just like she didn’t know what was going on — she would have laid out a red carpet for the guy.

Calling it nice doesn’t even scrape against what it really is, but there’s a relief there too. She holds on to that.

“You’re my last shot, Nadya,” Cadence insists; Nadya believes him utterly, “not only that you’re the only shot that’s yielded results. I think I’d given up a long time ago and not even realized it. Because to have hope for the first time… well, ever?”

She nods. She gets it — and not just because the longer her body heat has the chance to seep into his skin the more that starts to bleed through the cracks. Nadya yanks her hands away but luckily he doesn’t seem too insulted.

Adrian clears his throat and draws their attention. Pulls them out of their little world of someone who gets what it’s like to be someone and yourself and not knowing who either really is.

“Actually, this is a unique opportunity to study an actual measure to your abilities, Nadya.” He makes a point of ignoring the appalled silence radiating off of Kamilah beside him. “That is; if the both of you agree to a documented study.”

“Not a fan of how you’re making me sound like a lab rat.”

“You know what I mean.”

She does. And throwing a look Cadence’s way — he does, too.

“But we can hammer out the finer details tomorrow,” because he hasn’t missed Lily’s bouncing leg or the change of muffled music beyond the door, “because I think the hostess of the party has been away from it for long enough, wouldn’t you say Lily?”

“Lily would say,” Lily says, “Lily would definitely say.”

Cadence initially tries to back out but Lily won’t have it — though she does forget to tell him to duck before pulling him out of the apartment and he ends up stumbling with a red mark on his forehead. Maricruz follows at their heels and Adrian looks ready to join close behind — but he stops when he realizes no one else is coming along.

“Nadya? Kamilah? Are you coming?”

She knows what it looks like when someone is looking through you rather than at you. That’s why it hurts so much seeing it from eyes she’s always thought so beautiful; so boundless.

Nadya doesn’t regret ever falling for Kamilah. But at times like this — when she’s more content to twist herself up in her own concerns and shut everyone; shut Nadya out — she finds herself wondering how exactly she ended up doing so in the first place.

“Yeah, Adrian, I’m coming.”

She follows him out; and this time she doesn’t look back.