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alwaysxlarrie · 25 days ago

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fav fics of 2024 !!

i didn’t read as many fics as i wanted in 2024, but i did manage to put together a list of 25 so here they are, separated by fandom !! the dair fics i've read helped give me sm inspo -- enough to start brainstorming again for my cult leader louis fic AND start my first dair fic, so big s/o to the dair fandom -- we were so robbed & somehow y'all still continue to give !! anyway, big thank you to all writers for continuing to bless us all w your creativity — readers, please remember to leave kudos & comments on fics you enjoy !! as always, fics are in alphabetical order <3

(also a moment of silence for @harruandlou who introduced me to dair & therefore had to listen to me talk abt nothing besides them for the last ~3 months)

dair fics:

an utter lack of self-preservation instincts by nevertothethird / @scabopolis

There are many things Blair Waldorf needs: the new sustainable division of Waldorf Designs to be successful, a fresh manicure, and maybe a weekend away with her best-friend.

What she doesn't need is a pretentious Brooklynite with no experience working in the fashion design industry to make her life harder. Or to bring her dinner. Or to look at her like she might be the best thing he's ever seen.

checking it twice by womanaction / @womanaction

Blair creates a checklist for her "perfect man", but someone surprising happens to match up to her demands.

flappers and philosophers by bookishandbossy / @bookishandbossy

Dan Humphrey first meets Blair Waldorf at a party he's not invited to. He doesn't mean to write a story that's all about her, but somehow it happens. Blair Waldorf has every intention of giving an aspiring writer a sharp talking-to about the character he's based on her. She doesn't mean to get fond of him, but somehow it happens. (1920's AU)

god help the girl by secondaudrina / @firstaudrina

At nearly three a.m., the idea of murdering one's neighbor starts to get just a little too appealing.

good night bad morning by secondaudrina / @firstaudrina

Blair refuses to be so hard up that she's giving Dan Humphrey the eye.

hang up and run to me by mysteriesofloves / @mysteriesofloves

“Keep talking,” she says. “I like your voice.”

“Oh,” he says, then, brighter: “oh. Okay. Well. Ha. That’s funny—not that, that’s not funny, that’s…nice, it’s just funny that I can’t stop talking until you ask me to not stop talking, then I can’t think of anything to say.”

“Would you like a prompt?”

“Sure. Yeah. Give me a prompt, Waldorf.”

“What would you do if you were here?”

His breath over the line is like static. “Um. What?”

i knew you’d come back to me by communitys

“Okay,” Dan says. He looks to the side, to Alessandra and the people bathed in the cold bright glow of the party, and feels so removed from them that his conversation with Blair might as well be happening in a different universe. “Okay. So, you’ve been hung up on me all this time”—he ignores her eye roll, like she doesn’t know what she’s doing—”and you’re divorcing your husband, who you only ever married for practical reasons, and what, exactly, do you want from me?”

or, dan writes a book about his relationship with blair, she shows up at the signing, and no one else is in the room for a while after that

just like in the movies by stapler_stealer / @anevildictatoroftaste

“I have five words for you, Mr Humphrey—,” Blair leans in with both palms laid flat on the counter, a triumphant smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. “—The future…is online streaming.”

“And I have four words for you, Miss Waldorf,” Humphrey replies, with a mocking smile. “Get. The. Fuck. Out!”

Or, Blair Waldorf is a ruthless media executive looking to acquire an indie video rental store, seal that damn deal and score that sweet, sweet promotion.

There’s just one teensy little problem that stands in her way — a stubborn, curly-haired store manager by the name of Dan freaking Humphrey.

returning the favour by thestartofnothing / @mrs-nate-humphrey

After Georgina takes Milo away, Dan isn't expecting is Blair Waldorf at his doorstep with a plan to make him feel better.

He certainly isn't expecting her "plan" to involve having kinky sex, for fun.

somewhere you feel free by lizwas / @terrainofheartfelt

Four years ago, Blair had gotten married and fallen off the face of the earth. Dan had already fallen the year before.

Dan keeps Milo. Blair marries Louis. Years later, she returns to New York, divorced and determined to start a new life, beginning with finishing her degree at Columbia. Also a Columbia student? Single parent Dan Humphrey.

sweet comic valentine by mysteriesofloves / @mysteriesofloves

She hates Dan Humphrey. She really does. Any gut punch of a reaction to seeing him calmly wrangle rowdy children is purely biological.

the kind of opposites who do not attract by stapler_stealer / @anevildictatoroftaste

Blair Waldorf doesn’t like being reminded of Dan Humphrey. But that gap-toothed, curly haired man certainly had a knack for being completely unavoidable.

Firstly, the man was her best friend’s husband.

Secondly, he was a journalist, so she was bombarded by constant reminders of him.

That insufferable social climber was everywhere. She couldn’t even check her phone without scrolling past his selfies with Nate Archibald on her Instagram feed. Talk about the ghost of boyfriends past, haunting her ad infinitum.

In other words, Blair Waldorf doesn’t like being reminded of Dan Humphrey, because it's like being reminded of a life she could have had with him.

the pretentious classical music au that no one asked for series by lizwas / @terrainofheartfelt

Her first gig directing at a summer festival, and she gets stuck with Greenwood Lake’s Benedict Arnold.

this city screams your name by illicitaffair / @eyescllsed

The fact that her first audition with Humphrey was an accident would make great PR for the studio. Blair can see it already: headlines boasting Waldorf and Humphrey: Accidental Match of the Century! An Academy Award winner unknowingly instigating a fight with an up and coming actor that a casting director just happened to see, proving their “undeniable” onscreen chemistry? It was the stuff of legends.

Unfortunately, Blair doesn’t see it that way.

alternatively; dan and blair star in a film. it goes about as well as expected.

the milk and honey extended universe by mysteriesofloves / @mysteriesofloves

She wishes Dan Humphrey had never taken a seat across from her their first week here. She wishes she didn’t have to contemplate the way she feels about him at all.

[or, Yale AU].

write this down by mysteriesofloves / @mysteriesofloves

“I am so going to regret asking, but—what exactly are you getting at, Blair?”

Blair takes a deep breath, sitting up straight, and lets it all come out in a rush: “Come with me to Paris and pretend to be my boyfriend.”

you could call me “babe” for the weekend by pentaghastly / @kendallroynsfw

B. WALDORF, the card says, embossed in silver print, and Dan commits that to memory. He’ll probably never see her again, but even so, B. WALDORF etches a space in his brain ten times larger than any five-foot-two socialite should be able to.

He’s surprisingly okay with that.

(or,

Dan is a bartender and Blair is the obnoxiously rich customer who keeps coming in to see him and it's casual, okay, it definitely doesn't mean she's in love.)

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larry fics:

endgame by brightgolden / @brightgolden

Harry has been told all his life how grateful he should be for being born as a male omega, and how blessed their people were because the heir to the throne would be carried by The King.

What they neglected to tell Harry was what would happen if he failed to become pregnant.

Where omega Crown Prince Harry Styles is trying and failing to get pregnant for four years, but all that is about to change when courtesan alpha Louis Tomlinson comes into the equation.

howls like a beast (you flower, you feast) by indiaalphawhiskey / @indiaalphawhiskey

France, 1754.

Château de Versailles.

“You don’t love me,” Louis had said, utterly blasé as he callously fractured the heart of a Harry that was just barely eighteen.

“I do,” Harry had insisted pleadingly, green eyes already watering.

Louis had rolled his eyes, exasperated and flippant in the way only beautiful, young boys could be when faced with the affections of a baby prince. He had run his finger down Harry’s cheek then, had forced him to look into his eyes as he delivered the final blow.

“You’ll change your mind once you’ve seen more of the world,” Louis had teased, pressing a brutally delicate kiss onto Harry’s lovely, pure cheek. “Once you’ve been properly defiled.” He had whispered filthily, delighted by the gasp he heard, the frantic pink blush that had rested high on Harry’s cheeks, the power he had felt at knowing he could make the Crown Prince squirm.

groupie love by cuckootrooke / @larrydoinglaundry

"Now, Louis is only a human. He'd be lying if he said he has never considered his fans attractive but it's not something that happens regularly. Many of them are a little too young for him to look at and those who aren’t so young are rarely squished at the barricade for him to admire. So, seeing a woman like her right at the front is a rare and remarkable surprise for him.

And God does he want to keep looking at her."

In other words, Louis is a rock star on a world tour and Harry is a regular attendee. They could never work.

kitten’s first client by anonymous

Harry settles on his knees, legs together and hands resting gently on his thighs. He looks up at Louis through his lashes, his eyes big and innocent.

"Please, Sir," he says, in a sweet little voice. "May I have permission to suck your cock?"

Harry is a kitten hybrid who just started working in a whorehouse. Louis is his client.

pure, pretty, obedient by anonymous

Louis' hand settles on Harry's hip, making him draw in a sharp breath. No alpha has ever touched him there before.

"Aren't you just a lovely little thing," Louis murmurs. "Gonna be so good for me, aren't you, darling?"

It's time for Louis and Harry to consummate their marriage. Harry doesn't know much about what's meant to happen on his wedding night. Lucky for him, his new alpha doesn't seem to mind.

ride my sleigh tonight by kingsofeverything / @kingsofeverything

In exchange for free food and drinks at Liam’s office holiday party, Harry pretends to be his boyfriend.

But this is not that story.

staring at the blank page before you by livelaughlovelarry / @loveislarryislove

“Can I ask you a favour?”

Harry blinked. “Um. Depends?”

“It’s nothing weird,” Louis said quickly. “Well. It’s a little weird.”

“Very illuminating,” Harry deadpanned. He had no idea what Louis was going to ask, but he had a pretty good idea that he was going to say yes regardless. Louis had that effect on people.

Louis chuckled. “It’s just – God, bodies are fucking stupid and I can’t visualize the physicality of this fight scene, so I was wondering if I could. Well. Use your body.”

Or, Louis is trying to write his book, but he sometimes has trouble with deciding how the characters should move. Fortunately, his roommate Harry is willing to help him act scenes out. Unfortunately, the line between acting and reality is getting very blurry. Or maybe that's fortunate too.

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phan fics:

ruby woo by phandomsub

Dani is dealing with yet another break-up, and Phil just wants to be there for her best friend.

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rowanthestrange · 8 months ago

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i just read the entirety of your Rogue is the Bad Guy essay, and i’ll admit, you’ve convinced me, but not that he’s the Master, but that he’s trying to cosplay the Master cosplaying whoever. Also, it was really long so, like, i’m asking with full concern: are you okay? it just seemed like it took a ridiculous amount of time /lh

What I think is the case, probably 51% the Master. Just squeaks it.

What I want is Chuldur/Pantheon member ‘The’ Rogue cosplaying the Master cosplaying Jack. I’d prefer it by a very large margin. A huge one. But as to whether I think it will happen, I give that 49%. But that’s still good odds.

(I’ve got a lot of Pantheon!Rogue feels, ideas, and desires and have had nowhere else to put them yet, and this is a valid place to share them, rip. And to anyone else who followed the first Essay, let me convince you of my secondary Sub-Thesis in it.)

I’m giving that seemingly crazy high 49% despite the risky complexity of double-layering, because A) that was the Ruby resolution: she cosplayed the bird cosplaying as her - we’ve done it already and everyone got it.

And B)…Is actually complicated literal-meta but hear me out. Since they’re the only other writers this season I think there’s a very high chance they’re forerunners for next showrunners. I know at least one has high level management experience, and if they were given that as a test to do highly complex work to cut their teeth, this would be an incredibly good test that they passed imo. The Master is in themselves hard to write but necessary to fully comprehend because even when not present they are a lynchpin of the show. Here you’d have to write him well. But also effectively set up two twists (that he’s the Master, and then that he’s not he’s just pretending he is). You have to establish a Pantheon member - make an important part of an overarching narrative. And link together with other writers current and past. As well as create a good story with all functioning meta, on multiple levels.

The second you let Rogue be The Bad Guy the complexity of literally everything skyrockets anyway. (And one of the reason I’m a little annoyed that people want to believe he’s so flat - it does the writers a deep disservice to just think they wrote Space Darcy and there’s no shared metaplot there). But while Russell likes a certain amount of simplicity — Occam’s Razor 51% Master — RTD2 has been having fun with more complicated stuff, more prior-knowledge and using that, more thinking needed if you’re going to get the answers early. I think if he was going to give future showrunners something hard to do this would be it. For me Chuldur/Pantheon!Rogue is the pinnacle of that while still being perfectly possible to pull off to casuals without too much brainache. ‘The American accent guys, come on.’

I certainly think they have seeded all they need to, obviously can’t grade without seeing the full execution. And they certainly succeeded in writing ‘the Master’ well. Rewatching that ending? That actually got to me. And I’m a wall. I hated him which is what makes an actually good Master/Master-Proxy - you can neither go too far with that or the character becomes too unenjoyable (Simm!Master), but also too little with the hatred being turned almost entirely into pity (fandom), or even just they’re pretty purely enjoyable (Missy - but she’s an odd duck anyway), also robs them of something essential. This is pitched very well. Test passed on that score.

If my preference and height of percentage seems confusing, to me it makes no difference when talking about them whether he’s the Master or The Rogue perfectly playing the Master. Because if he’s perfectly playing him, as his Pantheon power should presumably allow him to do, it tells us about the Master anyway, so I don’t actually feel any need to differentiate most of the time. Certainly in The Essay it seemed stupid to bog it down with that and risk confusing the people still on ‘but he’s a good guy’ where it wasn’t necessary, because all arguments stay basically the same for a perfect copy. I trusted the reader to apply the level of abstraction themselves for the most part, only coming in with that where I thought something could be particularly relevant/missed in regard to that specifically. Muddying the issue with too repetitiously focusing on ‘remember it called also be a perfect Master cosplay’ and that seemingly complicated (even if I think valid) double-layering didn’t feel like the right call for something where just Rogue Is Playing The Bad Guy was already a hard sell to who I wanted to reach. Ymmv.

The only things that give me pause are that 1: The implication that he’s cloaked seems very high - the earring interference, psychic scents can mask real ones, seeming lack of recognition by allies (until the end I think - they shut up while he’s doing the scene rather than threaten or beg for their lives) etc. The Pantheon seem to have a lot of reality twisting powers. You wouldn’t need to, surely? You’d need to have a reason other than ‘same devices too close’ for that interference which starts the whole thing at minimum and I think ‘he made it happen for the Doctor to come over’ is too cheaty. And 2: The Bag. Why would you need to pack a bag and ensure you have it on you at the end if you can just snap your fingers?

But could be that it actually just contains his dice and he’s a stickler for doing things manually - think of daddy here, rules and ways to do things and following structure while also being creative within those constrictions. Which also very much applies to Dungeon Masters (won’t lie, the ‘Master’ part of that is what eeks it to 51% for just being him). This could come up, it’s feasible.

A Chuldur needing the teleport is also fair of course. And would want the psychic jewellery for the reverse of Ruby - being a Chuldur who needs to smell human to keep the gang on their toes and unsuspecting it’s him.

And there are lots of little things that complement the Pantheon element. We have the dancing scene where the lights dim. We have the fact he’s working with alternate dimension creatures and knows a lot about them. Certainly shows no fear at being sent to an alternate dimension once he’s got what he wanted. We have the American accent. We have him probably having watched Doctor Who like Bridgerton because he’s very familiar with Jack’s introductory episodes with all the references. We have the Vitamin String Quartet’s cover of ‘I’m The Bad Guy’ - Dungeon Masters love making playlists for their scenes, so why wouldn’t he (and also Theme of Music)? Maybe he doesn’t overtly use his powers during The Session because that sort of ugly manipulation of the world is cheap and bad DMing. Daddy liked the Spice Girls, why wouldn’t he like Kylie? He’s a game player like daddy but there’s no winning D&D, especially as DM, which makes an easy natural conflict between them. And we need at least one Pantheon member, cus while I think this is actually just a set-up season for them, there needs to be at least four, really five to truly feel ‘Pantheon’, three would be bare minimum and not enough for when the shit actually starts to go down next season, need at least four by then. I’m assuming we see one: The Writer, or The Audience, or Death or (The Twist At) The End/Grand Finale or whatever else you interpret the oldest one/one who waits to be, in the finale itself.

And this means we get a new (and if Pantheon rather than Chuldur) long-term character. Cosplaying the Master means The Rogue isn’t a copy of them, can just be playing The Bad Guy cus it’s fun right now, but they themselves don’t have to be Master-like, they can be anything. Something new. Anyone who knows me knows I wanted more rogue Time Lords and these guys are like that but with magic powers - what’s not to love? If The Rogue is a Joker, A Wildcard, and they just become a character that fills a void, that’s fascinating. Or they want to create exciting stories whatever that means and become whatever NPCs necessary to drive them on, that’s so interesting. Or they’re guided by being whatever they find cool much like the birds, with all the capricious ‘eh, bored now I’m wrapping this story up’ of a greek god (cus, well.) with all the associated dangers and disregard of these not being characters but people they’re playing with, and also expects there to be no hard feelings after The Session is over and next time it’s a new one. Can they perfectly roleplay a character but still break character if needed, or are they locked in to it until The Session’s done? Do they believe themself to have a ‘real’ personality or is that all fuzzy? Or all of the above. You could go anywhere from standard villain to a full Chaotic Neutral with that. And all the implications you could have of their power being to perfectly roleplay a person. And I use ‘they’ here because surely this is the most genderfluid a character you could get. The Rogue could literally be the red-nailed woman who picked up the gold tooth, think about that. How perfect would that be. Maybe that’s what’s in the bag. Live Tooth Reaction To The Kiss Not Clickbait. A character that could literally be anyone at any time, we would never know peace again. If Susan Twist appearing everywhere is something Pantheony, The Rogue is the inverse of this. Siblings maybe.

And see my Christmas Special pitch. Which is both a joke, but also an example of what fun you could have with The Rogue if you wanted. It doesn’t have to be pure heartbreak and misery Master 2.0. Especially if they are as seems here, a god not just trying to entertain themselves, but also entertain others. D&D requires a group, it’s co-operative, we see Rogue appear to adapt rather than (in any way immediately evident to us at least) externally force the story a certain way like a good DM. He never shoots the birds or threatens to or gets them in actual danger despite the in-character reasons to, and they looked like they all had fun - besides squished beak #5. But also sees NPCs as little more than set dressing as we ourselves would in a D&D game. What a dynamic that could be in a Pantheon god. It’s unique. Which is so valuable. A Chuldur slightly less interesting in that score but still.

If it is the Master I’ll be fine and accept it, but I want this, because it does double duty. It might as well have been a Master episode as it has most of the benefits of one (for me anyway), but also gives us all this new possibility and complexity on top of it. Those options are currently open and I want it.

It’s not popular, but I’m really pro trusting the writers. All of them. They’re smart. And I know these two just seem like randoms, but I doubt they are, they could be our new mothers, and I really think that while the Pantheon Rogue option is complex, it’s viable and has so much scope. If I hate people trying to see Rogue as flat Space Darcy because it shows zero belief in the writers, then I gotta do the opposite and entertain the option that they have intelligently created a deep and complex story, and have taken that to the end of the road. Even if complicated is by nature less likely than simple.

also lol I started The Essay at around 11pm sunday, wrote til gone 4am. Then woke up at 9:30am and wrote solidly plus edits until about 4am, and in-between edited the subtitles into that video. Am I ok? Physically, yes. Mentally, probably not. It is literally 10k and that’s why I made the joke. But I’ve done infinitely worse writing fanfics so...

EDIT:

‘Chuldur/Pantheon member The Rogue cosplaying the Master’ has just flipped into the dominant reading! Alert! Alert! Cus he’d never do this about him literally being the Master. If he’s acknowledging we’re having the feelings we’re intended to have, there’s another twist in it.

I officially move The Rogue Cosplaying The Master to 55% from 49% likelihood, and Rogue Is Just The Master down to 45% from 51%. You may wish to adjust your stock investment accordingly.

#replies #meta #pantheon rogue #tl;dr #pantheon!rogue can often include chuldur!rogue it just means cosplay #when i say rogue!master #i mean both just the master #or chuldur/pantheon!rogue playing the master #AS OF EDIT:#now not only is cosplay rogue my preference #but i also think most likely by a slight margin

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ploppythespaceship · 7 months ago

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Doctor Who Series 14 / Season 1 Review

Man, it feels good to be enjoying Doctor Who again. I haven't been keeping up with the show in years, but I caught up to see Tennant's return leading into Ncuti's run and I am so glad I did. This season is far from perfect, but it gets a lot of little things right and is consistently fun to watch, even if a lot of the details fall apart.

What I Liked

Ncuti Gatwa is simply phenomenal. He settles into the role so quickly and so easily, bringing such a fresh energy to the character. I love how distinct he feels, too -- when you're playing the fifteenth iteration of a character, it can be hard to find a new spin on things, but he's done it. He's also a fantastic actor, getting to show an incredibly wide range in just a few short episodes. I truly think he'll be remembered as one of the best Doctors.

Millie Gibson is also very good as Ruby, and her dynamic with the Doctor is a lot of fun. I appreciate having another Doctor/companion relationship that isn't romantic. They're just best friends, and it's very cute.

The show looks great. It's very clear that they've had a budget increase -- the costumes, effects, etc. are noticeably improved since RTD's first run.

Murray Gold's return as the composer is extremely welcome. His stuff isn't quite as bombastic as before (or maybe the episodes just have better sound mixing), but keeps a lot of the same leitmotifs. The result is a more subtle score that perfectly suits each scene.

Mel is so cool now. She was one of my least favorite classic companions, so seeing her worked into these storylines and feel more compelling is an unexpected delight.

What I Didn't Like

Ultimately, I think the season is just too short. Council of Geeks has an excellent YouTube video on this -- because there are only eight episodes, and a lot of them are going for bigger ideas and weirder premises, it feels like we don't really settle into a status quo.

The Doctor and Ruby's relationship also isn't as developed as much as I would like. If you pay close attention to the dialogue, there's actually a six month gap between "Space Babies" and "The Devil's Chord" -- we could have used another episode or two in that time period to really flesh out the beginnings of their friendship better. Instead the show jumps straight to them being best friends, without really showing us why that is.

I don't think the mystery box format of this season really worked. The mysteries were built up to such an extent that no answer could really be satisfying, and the finale really almost entirely on the big reveals that ultimately didn't amount to much. Ruby in particular feels like an underbaked companion, and I hope she gets more time to get properly developed.

Individual Episode Thoughts

Space Babies — This is easily the weakest episode of the season. It's not bad by any means, but it does remind me of some of the sillier episodes of RTD's first run. It felt like we were speedrunning the companion introduction, when things could have been slowed down and spread across a few episodes to feel more natural. The baby VFX also do not work and fall very firmly into uncanny valley territory.

The Devil's Chord — This one makes very little sense, but is entirely saved by Jinkx Monsoon being so iconic as Maestro. If you just go along for the ride, it's a ton of fun.

Boom — This episode is proof that Steven Moffat truly is at his best when he's writing self-contained stories under someone else's guidance. I don't think it's as iconic as Moffat's previous stories, and I felt like Ncuti was getting a lot of dialogue that better suited Matt Smith, but the entire concept was interesting and the execution was solid. Also, Ncuti acted his ass off without even being able to move.

73 Yards — Honestly, I'm mixed on this one. The setup is fantastic and eerie, and I enjoy the exploration of Ruby's character, solo from the Doctor. I like her experiencing this inexplicable thing, and deciding to find purpose in it to help others. But the story does fall apart for me at the end when it doesn't explain anything. I don't need every single thing handed to me, I understand the value of leaving things to the imagination, but the fact that the episode's last impression is "wait what?" does leave a bit of a sour taste. That being said, I do respect how weird and different this episode is, and how much discussion it prompted afterward.

Dot and Bubble — The trailers looked like a Black Mirror ripoff, and I was prepared for a shallow "social media bad" episode. Instead, we got something far more nuanced about the dangers of trapping yourself in a bubble of like-minded people and refusing to ever look beyond it. And the ending reveal that it's a society of white supremacists is so, so well-handled, because all the clues were there for you. If you're like me and didn't piece it together until the very end, it really challenges you to ask yourself why you didn't notice sooner. Also, another episode where Ncuti acts his ass off. My personal favorite episode of the season.

Rogue — Another with mixed feelings. Rogue himself is tons of fun, and I enjoy his dynamic with the Doctor, even if parts of it are pretty rushed. I really hope he comes back. The episode plot itself is serviceable but nothing special. My main complaint is the severe lack of Ruby. Her relationship with the Doctor doesn't feel sufficiently established, so the emotional beats don't really land.

The Legend of Ruby Sunday — This was an underwhelming finale, unfortunately. The first part barely even qualifies as an episode. It launches right into starting to answer the season's mysteries, but does so in an uncompelling and heavy-handed way. The Sutekh reveal is pretty epic in isolation, but...

Empire of Death — The Sutekh reveal doesn't really lead to anything satisfying. He doesn't have the presence of Toymaker or Maestro, he's just a CGI dog monster. This second part finally answers some questions, some of which are vaguely interesting, but it's happening in a plot so dull and so dry that I just can't bring myself to care. The episode is also just confusing? The plot points don't seem to flow naturally together, like multiple stories were smashed together with little rhyme or reason. The resolution is some of the most nonsensical nonsense that Doctor Who has ever come up with. Then we get to the reveal of Ruby's mother, which is so forced and it becomes clear in retrospect that things were added to seem more mysterious than they really were. And capping it all off is the Doctor's farewell to Ruby, which falls flat because, as I've said, their relationship is rather undercooked. It really does end the season on a downer, which is a shame because so many of the preceding episodes were pretty good.

#personal #whoniverse #doctor who #new who #doctor who spoilers #dw spoilers

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frostycatblr-fandom-files · 2 years ago

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Sorry, Wrong Comms! : Hunter x Medic!Reader [Chapter 1]

Much more recently written fanfic I started to distract myself from the "mild" trauma of Season 2 finale based on ideas that wouldn't work for "Rough Stuff". This fic is absolutely RIFE with my personal headcanons. Clones deserved so much better, and I will be a giant mess when I get to Pong Krell in TWC as I have since started rewatching it.

Warnings & Information: Intended audience is 13+, 18 if you squint. Hurt+comfort material primarily; there is still a fair amount of angst, fluff, and all the good stuff. Reader has she/her pronouns. We really like italics in this house. Peep this for funsies for why I decide to use Mando'a. By no means comprehensive, in no particular order there will be: Mild injury description + care, blood, vague medical terminology (read as: pretending to understand medical stuff), use of restraints, needles (autoinjectors), near-death(s), nausea and non-descriptive mentions of vomit, Star Wars swearing, drugs (both medical and recreational references), minor adult themes + implications, avoidant behaviors, trickery and light mean teasing in the forms of siblings and crushes.

Series-inaccurate allusions to Crosshair never leaving Bad Batch post Order 66 execution [because while this is an AU fic, I am also very much an Avoidant Mess™], Batchers never meet Cid, fair chance of misremembering any referenced events from TCW series. Series accurate allusions and references to canon violence (AKA: literal war crimes, weapon injuries, etcetera).

Word-count: 4,637

She couldn't remember the last time she had a really, really bad day outside of her medical clinic. There was a tip-off that an abandoned medical center on a neighboring mining planet within the system had supplies too tantalizing to ignore. Valuable paraphernalia that was being phased out by this emerging Empire, ripe for the taking. Did the mining company really have to build this settlement on the steepest face of the mountain? No, they probably didn't realize how unstable, unsafe and ultimately unsuitable this location was while they riddled the inside of the mountain with tunnels as they harvested precious ore and minerals. This was a boomtown and it had completed two of the three strikes typical of such: strike it rich, strike it fast, strike it down. The people living and working here had to abandon it in a hurry before they demoed the place. This mining company hadn't done their proper research and now the shells of their temporary structures were all that remained.

But a scrappy little scavenger had found the medical center was still fairly flush with supplies and let the first medic who was willing to help them with their injuries know about the score. 'It'll be dangerous. If you're going, tell a friend so they know to come looking for you if you don't get back after a certain time. But these items are pre-Empire, they aren't making them like that anymore, so you'll want these. Trust me. I think you'll find them worth the risk of a rock slide or two.'

It. Was. Not. Not really, anyways.

She was just glad to be home now. Put the day behind her. No more rock slides. No more rusted shells of buildings that made for excellent deathtraps. No more falling halfway down the mountain she climbed up in the descent to her ship in the foothills and losing almost every last med supply she came with after slipping on a patch of loose, fine-grain sand just after navigating the maze of the medical center. She had to hobble down the rest of the mountain with nothing to clean out the open wounds and prayed to everything and anything that she didn't contract something that had leached into the rock as the by-products of mining and refinery. She had to stumble into her ship and send a message to her back-up at home that she was 'hurt pretty kriffing bad' but alive and would be back planet-side after dinner; don't wait up for me, I'm too damn tired to swing by after all. Tell the others I'm sorry.

Her instructors in med school would be having a conniption if they saw the way she had tended her wounds so lazily and would never let her hear the end of it for the juvenile, sloppy attempt to bandage the laceration on her dominant arm, but she was too tired to care. (But if she ever saw that scavenger again, she'd kill them for failing to mention several things. The collapsing roof in the west stock room, for starters.) She'd deal with it all properly in the morning. She just wanted to sleep after sucking down two tubes of nutrient paste and a mixed handful of painkillers and antibiotics to ward away pain and infection.

She picked up her datapad one last time and hissed a deliberate dictation into the mic after tugging the knot to the wrapping one last time for good measure. "I'll deal with that bantha fodder in the morning… Home safe. Going to bed. Goodnight."

She'd accidentally sent it to the wider group beyond the singular contact when five messages popped up in short succession.

Glad you're home safe. Sleep well, kid.

likewise

GOODNIGHT!:)

Yes, goodnight.

We'll see you in the morning, burc'ya.

Hopefully she'd feel well-rested with the sunrise. Crawling into her bed, she dropped heavily on her side and clutched a well worn Tooka doll in her favorite colors named after her very first childhood pet to her chest as she drew the covers up over her shoulders. Maker, she was so tired. It wouldn't take long before sleep came for her, feeling the first beckoning pulls on her eyelids after just a few moments.

Her comms gave a harsh screech, jolting her awake in her bed. Just when she had drifted off… This better be important. An actual karking emergency. Someone who had her personal frequency had better be dying if they were contacting her. "What."

There was a lot of shuffling and keypad beeping on the other end of the comms channel, but no one spoke right away. Just when she was about to either call out a hello? or simply disconnect her comlink, she heard someone speak up. Clone Sergeant Hunter. "Tech is this really necessary to keep the-"

"If we want an accurate oral temperature, yes."

There was a groan over the channel, then the sharp rustle as the comms got bumped or adjusted in Hunter's hand. "Well the longer I have it in my mouth the closer I feel to gaggin-"

She shot upright in her bunk, slightly grossed out and confused all at once. "What the kriff are you-!?"

The two Clones on the other end of the comlink gave their own startled shouts, realizing they had a disembodied voice suddenly joining their company. "[____]! How-?"

She was quick to cut Tech off, pulling the comlink closer to her face to amplify her furious tone of voice. "Did one of you seriously call me - in the middle of a medical check - when I'm trying to sleep!"

"Sorry, [____]." Hunter mumbled shamefully. "Must have switched on my comlink by mistake… Didn't mean to disturb you when I know you've had a hard day." What an understatement, Hunter. The impulsive venom in her mouth was hard to hold back, encouraged by her frustrations and discomforts bubbling over. "Hard day made harder thanks to you." She regretted it in a heartbeat. Thank the Maker the enhanced Clone wasn't in the room with her; he'd probably have been able to hear the way it skipped a beat if he was able to sense the beginnings of seismic activity, smell the way she felt her body begin to shiver in a forming, cold stress-sweat as the shame of her anger washed over her.

"You're right: let me make it up to you."

She was told to come over to the Batch's housing. Crosshair opened the blastdoor for her before she even had a chance to knock to avoid waking anyone sleeping if she used the buzzer. "He'll be in the main area."

"What, no "Hello, taking care of yourself like I told you to?" tonight, Cross? Even as a joke, after the day I've been having, to lighten the mood?"

There was a half-hearted scoff (or maybe that was a soft laugh) from the Clone at this."That's more Wrecker's thing," Cross drawled in a casual voice around a toothpick, sidestepping to let her squeeze inside, "and I'm not really interested in pretending I can't see that you are not taking care of yourself."

"No, of course not Mr. Sharp-eyed, Snarky Sniper. 'Cause I fall down the mountains of abandoned mining settlements for kriffing fun."

If Cross was phased by the uncharacteristic anger of the medic tonight, he didn't really show it. Just a little twitching pull of his upper lip on one side and half-lidded eyes that betrayed a bit of amusement and disappointment. "Mmp. C'mon, kid. I'll see if I can't find a half-decent ration bar somewhere around here for you."

"Not hungry, Cr-"

"Don't care." He interrupted in a brusque tone, not giving her the opportunity for excuses. Crosshair was the kinda guy who didn't like excuses, either in giving or getting, and could be quick to shut that kriff down. It was refreshing sometimes, but tonight it was just another mild annoyance of [____]'s day.

Whatever. She was going to go find Hunter where Cross said he'd be rather than waiting around in the entryway forever. "Skipping meals again, are we burc'ya?" As a medic, she often missed out on a meal or two while she was aiding the galaxy's sick and injured, and the unintentional habit carried over when she wasn't at the clinic. Something that made her friends fret over her like this. "For once I had all three meals. Only thing I swear went right today…" There was a pause as the medic heard a comment from the small kitchen on the left from the common room and she added with a gentle sigh, "aside from not breaking any bones during that nasty fall, too I guess."

Hunter looked relieved and genuinely proud of her, sincerely surprised she wasn't tired and hungry like many nights in the past. Crosshair just turned on his heel back into the kitchen unit without breaking his stride, after a little shuffling around in the cabinets [____] could hear the sink running. "Well that's… good! Proud of you, kid."

"...Than-"

Cross set the glass of water he'd filled for her in lieu of the ration bar down on a low table in the common room in the middle of the light conversation she was having with Hunter. "Here. I'll leave you two to it. Goodnight."

"U-um, thanks, Cross. Goodnight…" Cross nodded nonchalantly at her, next turning to his brother, who was quick to avoid his eyes before Crosshair just turned and left the two of them. Leave you two to it, what did he mean by that that had Hunter looking so nervous with a wave of color creeping up his neck from under the collar of a fresh nightshirt? "What's going on, Hunter? Do I need to be worried about something? Something show up on the health check? Do you need some nysillin tea or- s-something?"

Hunter shook his head, a tender, reassuring (and touched) smile slowly building. You could take the doctor out of the clinic, but you couldn't stop her from thinking about her job. "Nothing's wrong, k'uur... Just thought I was feeling a little under the weather, but I'm perfectly fine. It's nothing more than just making it up to you after waking you. Plus, for once, you won't have to patch your own wounds. Why not have someone take care of you the same way you take care of others?" It was the same thing he'd said to her at the end of their first of many interactions in this seedy little travel-hub. The time she'd undoubtedly saved Crosshair's life after he'd picked up a nasty little parasite while slogging through the swamps of some distant planet. Kashyyyk? It was probably Kashyyyk.

[____] was in a sour arrangement then with some smugglers with hair-trigger tempers to come and go as they pleased with her small clinic, and these Clones had been kind to remove the problem clientele "with discretion" as a way of paying her back. She'd saved their "stubborn vod". They saved her and now trusted her to treat their injuries no matter the cause, turning up at odd hours for the oddest of injury or malady. Complete faith in her in a hostile galaxy who now wanted… whatever it is they wanted with these Clones. She didn't ask. She didn't want to know.

She'd heard the stories from those who fled the war encroaching nearly every part of the galaxy. She'd heard of the war crimes, seen the horror and gore and bloodshed step into at least two of the medical centers she once worked in… known of an Order 66 and what became of much, if not all, of the Jedi… She didn't want to know. They often didn't want to tell, beyond giving vague recollections when they were making arrangements for short-term prescriptions for sleeping supplements with the medic when the nightmares were overwhelming.

Much like scouting the abandoned medical facility in an old mining boomtown for various 'sillin supplies, life seldom goes the way you wish.

"C'mere, ad'ika. Let's get you patched up." He patted the space beside him on the couch in invitation, pulling a medkit closer with the other hand all while looking at her with the same softness he often reserved for his sister. When [____] first met him, she could have sworn Omega was his daughter. "Unless you're not okay with that." Hunter added, addressing her hesitation he could hear in the rhythm of her pulse, her heart.

"I'm fine with it… just really tired and brain's kinda closing shop for the night. Sorry." Taking the seat indicated, [____] sunk back into the furniture, sighing. She didn't want to bring up why she was hesitating on him. He carried enough guilt as a participant in the old GAR… Hunter broke the seal on the new packet of medical tools, prepping everything he thought he'd need. "Don't be, ad'ika. Now, have you taken something for the pain already?"

"Rhetorical question for a medic, don't you think?" The tired, teasing question was met with a single chuckle. He knew she would have, he was just making small talk. "Anything else? Ask me if I'm taking any other kind of stim packs, or maybe I should lie about eating all my recommended fruits and vegetables?" It was a laugh from Hunter this time, deep and hearty and genuine from his chest.

"Are you?" Picking up a pre-moistened cleaning wipe from the little packet within the medkit, Hunter removed the sloppy wrappings around her dominant arm that [____] had applied before trying to call it a day and properly deal with everything in the morning. Dried smears of red lay underneath the gauze, something that made Hunter's gut drop slightly. Either she had done an uncharacteristically poor job cleaning her injuries, or these were more intensive than believed and they were slow-bleeders that hadn't scabbed over completely.

"Tck…Can't say I'm any better than most of my patients, if I'm honest." Hunter hummed slightly, gingerly blotting along the length of the mild laceration. It had to have been an unpleasant injury after losing all her emergency supplies and nothing to ease it right away until she stumbled back to her ship. It looked fairly deep to him, but couldn't be certain. "Mmh! That stings."

"'It's supposed to, little guy. Means it's working.' I swear Cross could have killed you with a look if the parasite wasn't actively killing him over being called a little guy like he was a kid."

"Ha-ha. Very funny, Tech." [____] half-heartedly mocked Hunter's sharp recollection of their first encounter, trying to stifle a coming yawn. That time felt so long ago now; longer than it actually was. "I was only trying to keep him calm and comfortable. I see a lot of children at my clinic so it's a habit I've de-developed… excuse me, sorry about that. People… don't exactly love doctors."

Hunter paused mid-blot, giving her a firm look to show her he was serious. Something in Hunter didn't like the way she'd said it, it didn't sit right with him. "Nonsense, cyar'ika. People love doctors; they just don't love going to them. Big difference. Trust me." Trust me like I trust you he wanted to say. He wouldn't. He believed it was mutually understood, no need for explicitly stating so (partly an old habit in thanks to how he communicated with many a vod during the war). "People…" Hunter tried further explaining, leaving out the "like us" he again believed didn't need to be said "...might be embarrassed, or fearful, or worried about going to the medic, but they understand they need to go because the medics will be able to make them better. They don't hate the doctor; they hate the doctor's office…" Hunter paused, digesting his own words with a questioning expression as he set aside the pre-moistened wipe, now soiled. "Now of course I think I just sound like I'm condescendingly explaining your own job to you."

"Heh. Don't worry about it. Too tired to care," the weary medic offered with a reassuring smile, leaning into the backrest of the couch with a slowing blink-rate. "I'm just more concerned about staying awake, while I'm the patient for once, for you."

For you. Something about it was unintentionally sweet to Hunter and made something within him flutter for a moment. That was happening a lot lately, every time he thought of her. He kept chalking it up to his enhancements and memories of the Kaminoans testing him and the others that remained of the experimental unit, the sharp sterility of antiseptic that lingered in her clinic and her clothing and her hair that sometimes turned his stomach, or simply a disconnected unfamiliarity with those who were not Clones… though, while perhaps he never felt truly connected with them and the way some called them the 'Sad Batch' (or called Omega a lab scabber) when they thought they could get away with it, they had still been his brothers in arms in the war.

A war they were still running from. One they nearly lost Crosshair to after 'things went screwy on Kaller' as Wrecker put it once. What an understatement… if Hunter hadn't been so insistent with the Shock Troopers down in the brig that the Batch stayed together to the point that they tased Hunter to shut him up instead of extracting Cross, then Crosshair likely would have been siphoned off to some corner of Tipoca City and had the activation of his inhibitor chip nudged along into unpleasant possibilities Hunter had nightmares about in addition to so many things he'd seen… done, during the Clone Wars. It'd been difficult, and he'd hated part of himself for it, but as they made their initial escape from Kamino, he threatened to stun Crosshair if he didn't kriffing shut up about following orders they didn't even understand for five minutes! so hard he wouldn't wake up until they reached the next star system.

There had been so much bickering. They still bickered even after Captain Rex got in touch with them, somehow, after they left Saleucami visiting the Lawquane family (which had been tricky and Tech worked the loophole that Crosshair could not report Cut for desertion because it had been the GAR when he went AWOL and now it no longer existed, it was the Empire now, right? half to death before Crosshair reluctantly let it be), and they got their chips removed in the rusted out shell of a Venator on Bracca and had been lured into a trap set by Tarkin back on Kamino. Because if Tarkin could not have this SpecOps force, nobody in the galaxy could; he'd aimed to wipe them out and they'd narrowly avoided being swallowed in the eternal seas of the closest thing they had to a homeworld.

It took a long time for the bickering to stop. They were at their throats for a while still until… Crosshair had gotten really, really sick.

That's what led to this friendship with a medic who had been willing to help them nearly a year ago. Though lately, it was feeling… different.

"Hey…" [____] broke the building silence while Hunter had been searching for a bacta patch, and Hunter initially worried he'd done something to tip her off to the personal burdens, the memories, he shouldered. "...weird question for ya, if that's okay."

"How weird?" Hunter tried, careful not to let the hesitancy and budding anxieties show in his voice. There's the karking things. He'd probably need a couple of them to make sure he had it covered so it would heal up nicely, quickly.

"Oh, not very. I just wanna pick your brain a bit."

Ah. Just curiosity. He affixed the first patch over the first half of the laceration, careful not to prod the bruised flesh with unnecessary pressure. "Alright, pick away."

"What is… your favorite memory? When you're having a bad day… what's the thing you think about that always cheers you up?"

"Heh… your day was really that bad that you're looking for advice from a soldier, doc?" Hunter teased, applying a second patch over the laceration. He wasn't sure what he could truthfully answer with while he was carefully measuring out a length of sterile gauze to hold the patches in place on her dominant arm, there being too many little, fleeting happy moments rather than significant memories to spin some story from. But he'd try. "I guess for me… it's less what I think of and more of what I do after a bad mission. Clean my gear. Tidy up my rack. Buff out my helmet-"

The medic smirked, a solitary, quiet laugh interrupting Hunter's train of thought.

Oh, Maker… he'd forgotten the suggestive context behind the phrase she often heard in the infancy of her profession in the midst of the Clone Wars. He'd heard she'd get the stray Clone on occasion at the large health center she was employed at once on a different planet but didn't know how much truth there was to it. "K'uur: that was not a euphemism."

That was met with a nervous giggle that made his stomach flutter. "S-sorry; old habits, and a non-professional setting where I can actually laugh." [____] offered meekly, face flushing with color while he wound the wrapping around her forearm. "C-continue, Hunter, please. 'Buff out your helmet' and...?" The unspoken what else on her tongue was permission enough to show she was serious about him continuing.

"And… check in with the others, I suppose. Make sure that everyone is okay. Spend time with them. Strengthen personal bonds."

A lot like what the two of them were doing now, he supposed. The unintentional check in. Taking care of her injuries while they sat side by side in the common room as the rest of the Batch were sleeping. Except maybe for Tech who often tinkered away on his datapad or the desk he'd squeezed into the room he shared with Wrecker (who wasn't bothered by a roommate with a propensity to dink around with some little gadget or piece of equipment when he was sleeping or resting) at these hours. Or Crosshair, who was often awake and asleep around the same times Hunter was, since they'd have muffled "conversations" through the walls when neither could sleep on occasion. But all was relatively still and quiet in each of his brother's rooms, and the steady rumble of the noise machine in Omega's room meant his sister was asleep.

Drumming rain and swirling waves. The perpetual ambiance of Kamino. He hoped the little machine replicating the soundscape engrained in her memories wouldn't cause her to dream of the Venator class ships bombing the cloning facilities tonight…

While Hunter had been lost in his senses, his worries, the medic had been busy mulling over his words. There was a ghost of a smile taking the place of the pained frown she previously bore. "That all sounds… really nice."

The last injury tended to, Hunter set everything aside and gave [____]'s shoulder a tender double-pat, feeling the tense muscles under his hand as he held his hand there after the friendly gesture. "There you go, ad'ika. All patched up."

"Thanks, appreciate the help Hunter. Could I… trouble you a little further by crashing here for the night? I don't think I'm in a fit state to get back home around now. Far, far too tired." It was definitely not a safe time for a woman to be walking by herself without a blaster, nevermind a tired, injured woman who'd been an invaluable friend to Clone Force 99. He'd never have sent her home to begin with, giving how deeply her chin dipped into her chest with fatigue. "No trouble at all; you're welcome to take my bed, if you want." Hunter offered, giving her shoulder a friendly squeeze. He'd sleep out here in the common room so none of his brothers would get any funny ideas if both he and the medic emerged from the smallest of all the bedrooms in the housing together.

Why the Sith's hells did he just think that?

[____] winced in mild complaint, laugh laced with pain. "Ow, that's quite a grip there, soldier!"

"Sorry," he apologized, "didn't realize how hard it'd be. You carry a lot of stress and tension in your shoulders, ad'ika… I can feel how stiff your muscles are. I… have some experience with providing some relief for that, thanks to all the practice I've had with Wrecker and Tech. Tech's posture is a mess-" He rolled the palm of his hand against her shoulder experimentally, gauging the pliability of the tensest muscle, and she leaned into it eagerly with a whimpering 'oh, Maker…!' surprising even herself. Hunter decided he'd stubbornly pretend not to imagine how not-so-innocent the sound was, to keep talking about his brothers and ignore the heat in his lower belly, another flutter of his heart. "Tech spends hours hunched over his datapad, or some little gadget, or spends hours in those rigid crash seats in the Marauder with his muscles wound so tight he's practically locked in place. Wrecker takes such a beating each mission it's just… uh,"

"A w-way of taking care of him afterwards?" She helped him where he faultured.

"Yeah. That's one part of it. Here, turn so I can get both shoulders." He had her melting under his touch quickly, the practically unhurried worship in this massage he was working into the medic's shoulders, neck, and the dominant arm. The muscles were so stiff and taut under her skin, under his ungloved hands. They were afraid to speak and break the reverence of this moment, the silent work of friend helping friend between each little involuntary sound of great relief or wince of brief pain as each tight, brow-bunching knot slowly surrendered. Her breathing pattern slowed as every minute elapsed between them beyond the gentle moans of relief as Hunter methodically kneaded the muscle free of tension with dexterous fingers. He wouldn't need to dig in so deeply like taking care of Wrecker's messes of well-defined muscle, for which he was grateful, to make any kind of progress, or go so tenderly to start with like he has to for Tech (on occasion) that the goggled Clone sometimes became a little impatient because he wasn't feeling any external relief. He could dip his fingers just a little deeper and just a little shallower, like those perpetual waves of Kamino replicated on Omega's sound machine, as he worked one muscle at a time for the unlikely friend who sat with him on the couch.

It felt roughly the same to strengthening the bonds of the squad to Hunter, but again there was that fluttering in his heart that suggested this was so very different when he realized that when he moved back to [____]'s neck one last time, at her asking, and planted one of his palms on the opposite side of her face to keep her steadied as he dug little circles around the tight muscles under the base of her skull with his thumb that she took one last deep breath and was soon asleep in half a heart's beat between them.

Hunter froze as he was, face hot in panic with the reality that he was now entirely supporting, for the moment, a female friend who was upright and asleep in his hands. Not knowing what to do just as the medic became more limp, he effectively locked himself in place when, on reflex, he caught her upper body against his before lowering it into his lap. A move he'd done a hundred times when one of the squad was this close to fainting out in the field.

Oh, you're kidding me… why the kriff did I do that?

[MASTERLIST] [TBB MASTERLIST] [NEXT]

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valeriefauxnom · 7 months ago

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Shout-Out to Euden vibing in the background of wyrmprints!

Come on in to this collection of this surprisingly common occurrence, we've got...

-Euden looking like he's seen something that is leaving permanent, deep mental scars and is staring blankly in a direction completely separate and heedless to anything else going on:

-Euden still staring in a completely different direction and has 0% involvement in what's going on in the rest of the wyrmprint picture/story (and disappears entirely in the refined version), but at least he's not apparently being traumatized this time:

-Euden attempting to utilize his non-existent stealth score and pretend he is totally not hovering, guys, by using a potentially empty basket as an excuse:

-Relatedly, Euden having a nice, chill day for once!

-Euden not having a good time but at least it's still not Trauma:

-Euden presumably experiencing the difficulties and terror of customer service at rush hour as customers remain blissfully unaware their server could theoretically order them to be executed if they are rude enough (even if said server wouldn't):

-Euden pleased with himself that he finally nailed that violin part enough to make it so that he doesn't sound like he's strangling a cat this time whilst Luca struggles:

-Shadow Euden before his summer version leaked!??!?!? (yes this is actually Euden even if was remarkably hard to distinguish at first glance from Su Fang's shadow nearby):

-This isn't even a wyrmprint but I still feel the need to include Low-Detail Euden here hauling a huge plate of curry to Midgardsormr in the background:

-Euden's so in the background of this one that they not only forgot to draw him but also only conveyed it's about him through niche references to chapter 6 ideas:

-Last but not least, to end it off on an actual example, Euden playing a dangerous game with balancing mantou:

So...yeah. That's all the instances that I can recall/find of Euden engaged in various activities and experiencing varying moods in the background. Of course, there's plenty more he's in as more of a focal point, but as for truly being in the background, I thought these Eudens deserved their own little mini collection!

#What is traumatizing Euden though in that first one? The world will never know. But he sure looks Shooketh!#dragalia lost #dragalia #Jokes aside I was surprised just how many instances there are of Euden hiding in the background of art regardless if he's actually involved #...in the 'story' of the wyrmprint or anything else. He's Watching! Always Watching!

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topazadine · 4 months ago

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"I Can Think of Ideas But Can't Write Them!"

Estimated Reading Time: 13 Minutes

Irrelevant hyperspecific Cleveland Ohio meme (it came up on my files when I searched for "think" so now you're stuck with it too)

Anyway, I see some iteration of this sentiment on the reg, both here and on other social media.

"I have this awesome idea about XYZ, but when I sit down to do it, I find it impossible to do anything. How do I get started?"

Great question and exceptionally valid; I think a lot of us have dealt with this at some point or another. So let's go through why you might have this happen to you and what you can do about it.

Perma-reminder that this is just my opinion and you are free to disagree, to think I am stupid, whatever. Take what you like and leave the rest.

Reasons why you might feel that you have great ideas but can't execute them

Writing, like many other activities, is just as much about your mindset as it is about your practice and your skills.

We can either psych ourselves into writing some amazing, lifechanging work ... or we can convince ourselves that we shouldn't even bother.

So how does our mindset play into our writing abilities? Here's some possible answers.

You've thought about it too much.

In essence, you've worked through the plot points so many times and refined them in your head to the point that you fear putting it on the page because you're certain that it won't match the beautiful vision you've daydreamed.

I have no evidence for this other than my own intuition, but I think this might happen more to people who are a 4 or 5 on the Vividness of Visual Imagery scale. I'm only a 3 so I don't have this problem quite as much. People with a 1 or 2 VVIQ score might have this problem even less, but don't quote me.

You are trying to envision the entire thing at once without outlining.

Most writers, including yours truly, cannot contain an entire story in our heads without any notes whatsoever.

For some reason, though, some newer writers are incredibly averse to outlining; they want the entire thing to spring forth from their heads whole cloth. Not everyone, of course, but enough people that I have noticed a trend.

I suspect this might be due to some academic trauma from being forced to outline every little thing in school and then being judged on that outline. But no one's judging or grading you anymore; your outline is just for you. Don't worry about it being perfect. It just needs to exist.

There are too many moving parts and you feel overwhelmed.

I encourage writers who are just getting started to focus on a simpler story to begin with. You can write your epic 120k thriller later; the idea is not going anywhere. It will always be there, waiting for you to be ready.

You feel that the project, in its current iteration, is beyond your capabilities.

And it very well might be, but you shouldn't let that stop you. Something existing in its rawest form is better than it not existing at all. There's always time and time more still to fix it as you grow in your capabilities.

You are a perfectionist.

This goes with the above point but also extends to other problems with writing, including being reluctant to revise and nitpicking your work as you go along.

Perfectionists often experience so much anxiety about the idea of not doing their best that they procrastinate or refuse to do something at all because they don't think they can do it perfectly in one go. Many "lazy" people are actually terrified of failure so they don't put in any effort.

It's something you need to work on as a writer, because there is no such thing as a publishable, literary-classic-quality first draft. A perfect first draft is one that exists.

You've got Imposter Syndrome.

Then we've got those who don't have an accurate assessment of their abilities and it holds them back. Imposter Syndrome often goes hand-in-hand with perfectionism; you feel like you're not as good as the writers you like, so you don't bother trying to reach their level.

Imposter Syndrome is the epitome of "comparison is the thief of joy." I have a lot of writers who I know are better than me; my favorite writers have lifted the bar so high that few will ever surpass them. I doubt I will ever get to their heights of success and eloquence.

But I do not let this stop me because I know that once upon a time, they were exactly where I am. Well, maybe not exactly where I am in Cleveland, lurking in the depths of Lake Erie. Skills-wise, though? They've all been here too.

You're thinking too far ahead.

I mentioned this in my post about how to write faster: writing has stages that must be put together one at a time. Every writer has different stages and does them different ways, but the average writer is not plotting, outlining, drafting, revising, publishing, and marketing at the very same time. It's just too much all at once.

When writing, don't think about everything else. Don't think about whether it will sell, or how long it will take to revise, or how to query, or any of that. All you need to think about is plot -> outline -> draft, in that order. And then you'll be okay.

How to Get Idea on Paper Now

Relax.

Yes, really. The first step is to relax. Take a deep breath. Tell all your anxieties about whether you'll ever get published, or whether you can do this, or whether you're even capable of writing, to shut the fuck up.

When you get those anxious thoughts, tell them that they are not helpful and they are not serving you. Practice mindfulness, such as by reciting a mantra to yourself until the thoughts give up. Outlast them out of spite.

Ask yourself what is scaring you so much.

Again, much of your struggles with writing likely come from your fears about the outcome rather than genuinely not being sure how to proceed.

You came up with this awesome idea, and you have probably played it in your head over and over again for days, weeks, months, years, but now find it impossible to get started. That tells me that you do have a story in you, but there's a blockage somewhere from brain to fingers.

So, gently question yourself about this and remember these key answers to your concerns.

Are you afraid of failing? If so, you have to ask what failing actually means in terms of writing. That you won't live up to your own expectations? Most of us won't, at least at first. And that's okay. You're trying, and that's what matters most. Are you afraid people will laugh at your work? Well, there are a lot of shit people in the world who love to tear others down. That says more about them than it does about you. Are you afraid you'll waste time on this project that will go nowhere? No writing is wasted. It's all practice. Are you worried you'll never get published? You're getting ahead of yourself. Nothing gets published if it's never written. Are you afraid that you're not going to do your work justice? You probably won't at first. And that's okay! Writing is wonderful because you get to keep picking at it until it is perfect. Unlike other crafts, such as knitting or embroidery or woodworking or painting, you don't get just one shot. You get as many shots as you want.

Release your perfectionist tendencies.

I know, this is easier said than done.

Perfectionism is not very helpful as a writer because either you never put anything down because you're afraid it sucks, or you peck so long at your completed draft that you never finish it. At some point, you need to just say "fuck it" and be done with the damn thing.

Could I peck and poke and prod at my drafts forever? Sure. I see things I could fix in all my works, even the published ones. I'd drive myself crazy if I continually reread my work with an editor's eye.

So, I like to see my work as kind of like Impressionist art.

Taken together, it makes a beautiful whole, but some asshole could go and complain about every little paint smear and how it doesn't exactly match the vision. And that person is dumb. And I don't want to be that person to myself, or to you.

When you've gotten to the point where you are utterly sick of your finished product and you'd rather stab yourself in the face than look at it again, then you are done. Go, my friend. Be free.

Stop reading authors you admire.

... For now! Not forever. Just give them a break for now, especially if you are dealing with Imposter Syndrome.

When you're struggling to get your idea finished, it's very easy to demotivate yourself by looking at authors you love and comparing yourself to them. But these authors have advantages you do not (at the moment).

They've been writing for years.

They may have professional training, like an MA in Creative Writing, or even teach this for work (like Anthony Doerr, one of my faves).

They have a team of professional editors who fix all their dumb mistakes and guide them through the revision process.

You are seeing the completed project, which has been looked over dozens of times, and not seeing the effort it took to get there. Their drafts may have been even shittier than yours, but you don't get to see that in most instances. So put them aside and promise to return to them later.

You should still read stuff, of course. But I recommend reading authors you don't like (yes, you can learn from them as well). Beta read for other people who are at your same level. Not only will you see that you're doing just fine, but you'll also get to learn from their mistakes.

Plus, I hate to sound mean, but yeah, it can be an ego boost.

That's why I don't read books by my moots until I'm in the Percolating or Revising stage, because I know their books are wonderful and will make me feel a lil sad about my own skills. I hate-read instead.

Remember that you can revise as many times as necessary

The way we teach writing, at least in the United States, is utterly antithetical to making great habits; specifically, I'm thinking about timed essays like the ACT. I got a 36 on the writing section of my ACT but I was still sweating bullets the whole fucking time because I would essentially be penalized for taking it slow and thinking things through.

You need to unlearn this habit. If you are writing for pleasure or self-publishing, there are no deadlines. You don't have a due date. You don't need to turn anything in. No one is checking over your shoulder, dinging you for not having a flawless essay done in 1 hour or less.

One of the best books to reassure anxious writers is More About How to Write a Million, specifically the revision section. The work is a bit dated now but the examples remain timeless, showing exactly how much work professional authors do to get from a sorta-shitty first draft to something beautiful. No draft starts out as a perfect angel. They're all a little ugly.

Writing takes as long as it needs to. Revisions are done as necessary. Revise, and revise, and revise again. It doesn't have to be perfect in one go.

Do it Bird by Bird

I love this phrase by Anne Lamott and use it all the time for everything. There's plenty of other adages that are similar, like "the journey of a thousand miles starts with a single step."

One thing at a time. Split the whole process into chunks. When you try to think of everything all at once, you get overwhelmed and demotivated.

This was my order when I wrote the first story for The Eirenic Verses, which is now actually the sixth book in the series (love how that works for me).

Create a concept. High Poetry.

Refine the concept. High Poetry can be used for warfare, healing, etc, and was given to Breme by the goddess Poesy.

Create a main character. Cerie Korviridi, a High Poet. All I knew about her personality at first was that she is kind of a bitch, but she slowly grew into much more as I continued to write her.

Create a world. Breme, which has High Poetry but is impoverished, and Sina, which does not have High Poetry but is technologically advanced.

Create other characters to populate the world. Haniya, Uileac, Orrinir, Mordrek, Ono, and background characters as necessary. They are all connected to Cerie in different ways and have different relationships with her.

Create a plot. Cerie must use her High Poetry to end the war between Breme and Sina.

Develop the outline. Using the Plot Mountain method I have mentioned before.

Cut the outline down to the basics. Using the Double Outline method I will explain in a minute.

Develop the sections. I write by scene rather than chapter, as I mentioned in another post.

Write the intro. The first chapter went through a lot of revisions, I will admit.

Write the climax. To know what I am building up to.

Write the ending. To know where I'm ending up.

Write the subclimaxes. Other scenes of tension and intensity.

Write the downtimes. Places for exposition and discussion.

Percolate. I let it sit for a while while I went to outline and write other parts of the series.

Revise. Self-explanatory!

Percolate and Revise again.

Say "fuck it" and be done. And now it is glaring at me from my MS pile, waiting for its turn.

Write the blurb and marketing materials. Those are sitting in storage.

Rinse and repeat. Now that I am writing in an established universe, I don't need to do steps 1 through 5.

If I think about this all at once, I'd probably go "TWENTY WHOLE FUCKING STEPS? WITH SUBSTEPS?? I'm going to drown myself" and not do anything.

So, instead, I went "Okay, I have an idea. Now I will refine the idea. Now I will impose the idea on a hapless victim. And now I'll throw her into a world. And now ...."

You get the point.

Try the Double Outline Method

The Double Outline Method was invented by me for people like you (and me). People who want to capture every single possible detail before they get started writing, but then find themselves losing all motivation because they've basically done the whole thing in outline form.

With this method, you can cram every last plot twist and thought and theme and whatever into your outline ... and then let it go and use a much simpler outline to actually work.

This way, you can give your Bordie Collie brain its little treat and set it to the real work: herding all your thought-sheep into order.

Now, I have some tips to help you actually get the damn thing done once you have tackled your insecurities. I'm wishing you the best of luck, my friend!

I've created a masterlist of writing resources that you can peruse at your leisure, all for free.

The posts I write can sometimes take me hours - they're always intricate, always thoughtful. This one took me about 2 hours to write.

I do this as a labor of love for the writing community, sharing what I have learned from almost 15 years of creative writing.

However, if you'd like to support me, maybe you'll consider buying my book?

At $0.99, that's about 7 cents for each minute you spent reading this post.

9 Years Yearning is a gay coming-of-age romance set in a fantasy world. It follows Uileac Korviridi, a young soldier training at the War Academy. His primary motivations are honoring the memory of his late parents, protecting his little sister Cerie, and becoming a top-notch soldier.

However, there's a problem: Orrinir Relickim, a rough and tough fellow pupil who just can't seem to leave Uileac alone.

The book features poetry, descriptions of a beautiful country inspired by Mongolia, and a whole lot of tsundere vibes.

You can also check it out on Goodreads for a list of expanded distribution. If you loved it, be sure to preorder Pride Before a Fall, arriving January 1, 2025!

If you do purchase my book, don't forget to leave a review!

Reviews are vital for visibility on Amazon and help to support indie authors like me. Whenever you love a book, be sure to let the author know! It's much appreciated.

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somecallmejohn · 8 months ago

Note

I highly doubt that Starboy's inclusion to the story and romance with Asha "would have saved" the movie because the people who claim that just genuinely do not care about Wish at all until they saw the concept art and immediately went to war for Disney for the crime of robbing them of their glowstick, even though said robbing never happened considering the amount of fanwork of said glowstick

They care more about the idea rather than the likelihood of how bad or good it's executed

A human star is actually a neat idea, however i do understand why Disney themselves scrapped it because if they did included the star shapeshifter idea, people will just use it as an excuse to accuse Wish of copying Nimona, Stardust and themselves with Genie and Sisu, as if the "homeages" are nonexistent

I don't think anyone would accuse Disney of copying Nimona just cuz the Starboy would be a shapeshifter too. Generally, a shapeshifter isn't that groundbreaking of an idea nowadays, if I'm being honest. Honestly, I think they scrapped human Star just cuz they scrapped the romance in the first place and because he wasn't as marketable as the design of Star they ended up going with.

But yeah, I agree. In my opinion, people are hyping the whole starboy x Asha thing a little too much as if its removal is ultimately what led to the movie to be the mess that it is. They keep thinking of what could have been while simultaneously ignoring that the movie could still have all the issues it has now just with romance sprinkled in it.

But if I'm being honest, what doomed Wish in the first place wasn't the lack of romance, but it was Disney's inability to take risks. Like I love Wish, it's genuinely my second favorite Disney movie(third, if you don't count Frozen 1 and 2 as one thing like I do), but one of the movie's biggest sins along with Valentino is that it played things too safe it didn't take any risks with the story or the characters or the animation or idk what.

Even with the animation style as much as I personally love it, I can tell that the producers were like "Spiderverse and Puss in Boots are really popular for their animation style so let's try a different style for this movie but not too different as it should still be recognizable" and then just slapped a watercolor texture on the typical 3D Disney style we've been used to the last decade and a half.

Huge part of why non-Disney movies like Spider-Verse, Nimona and Puss in Boots: the last wish are so beloved is because there were risks taken when making those movies, whereas Disney has been playing it safe for the last decade and you can feel that certain choices were made to make the films more marketable.

And I don't want to sound like "*scoff* Old Disney is SOOOO much better" because I genuinely can't stand those people and most of the time they bring up the worst reasons as to why old Disney is better, but like "The Hunchback of Notre Dame" , a huge mixed bag of a movie that has misfires such as using the G slur multiple times, a not so good representation of Romani people, the gargoyles etc., is still such a beloved movie to this day because of how risky it feels compared to newer Disney movies. Not only does it have a score and a soundtrack like no other movie ever, but it's also one of if not the darkest animated movie Disney has ever created and there's plenty of stuff that wouldn't have been in the movie had it been made today.

#john answers #john rambles #disney wish

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sissytobitch10seconds · 1 year ago

Text

Gentle Hands and Warm Hearts

Fandom: Grishaverse: Six of Crows Summary: The whole point of the polycule is so that each of them can get the care that they need without putting it all on one other person. That should, arguably, mean that Jesper and Nina don't have to do this but they find themselves hiding it away every time they do, as if it's something shameful. Or, the five times that Jesper and Nina got caught together and the one time that they sought their partners out. Warnings: Mentions of child abuse, haphephobia, mentions of sexual abuse, minor sexual content, and anxiety Word Count: 6,226 Ship(s): Nina Zenik/Jesper Fahey/Wylan Van Eck/Matthias Helvar/Inej Ghafa/Kaz Brekker

Archive link!

A/N: So I really like this idea but I'm not entirely happy with the execution. I feel like the dialogue in this fic is a bit awkward and I had to correct a lot of stuff. I think that it's come out a little bit better than when I found it, but I'm not entirely happy with it yet. I hope that you can all still enjoy it, though! Stay sissy and bitchy everyone <3

They were all clamored around each other, as they often were on date nights. Matthias had his arm looped around Wylan’s hips to keep the smaller man somewhat close to him, though they would both take several minute breaks whenever the touch began to get too much for them. It was hard to adjust to having so many partners when they had gone almost their entire life with touch being out of reach, after all. Kaz knew the feeling, since, while he had been able to overcome his haphephobia enough to maintain the kind of relationship that he wanted with his partners on most days, there were times that he still felt the waters of the harbor lapping at his ankles. He knew that Inej was going through the same thing, wading through hip-deep memories of when she had been in the same place as the people that she was now saving.

They reached the theater without anyone stopping them and with very few people staring at them. The only exception was when Nina had begun begging Kaz and Matthias to let her have some of the fried bread that was being sold in a cart outside of the entrance. They had given into her almost immediately, neither of them were very good about saying no to her when she looked at them with that delicately pouting lip.

They were shown up to the private box that Kaz had reserved for them so that they could watch the show without having to worry about people behind them. He sat in the front row with Inej beside him, though there was a chair between them so that they could speak to each other without being overwhelmed. Matthias and Wylan sat with a chair between them and the other duo, though they were next to each other with the arm down between them.

“Why are you sitting so far away from us?” Kaz asked when he turned and saw that Jesper had taken up residence in the row behind them.

“Nina and I are going to be very annoying during this show,” Jesper explained with a half shrug. “We didn’t want to ruin it for everyone else by making fun of every other thing the whole time.”

That was a reasonable enough explanation for everyone, so they turned their attention back to the stage. None of them turned around when they heard Nina return to their box with the concessions that she had slipped away to buy for herself. She dropped a candybar down into each of their laps without touching any of them and then flopped down into the chair beside Jesper so that she mirrored the other duo.

The stage lights lit up as everything else was dimmed so that their attention was on the actors alone. The music picked up when the two leads stepped out on stage during their first scene together, keeping each member of the polycule transfixed on what was happening. The score mixed very well with the script that the troupe had chosen. The story itself was a little bit dull, but the performance, combined with the aerialists swinging through the air in increasingly complicated styles, were enough to keep the entire audience fixated on the stage.

Throughout the entire play, just as they had promised, Jesper and Nina whispered to each other as they made jokes about what was happening.

The intermission for the play came at about an hour into the proceedings. The curtain lowered and the aerialists climbed into the catwalk above so that they could reset for whatever was going to happen next. Nina and Jesper began to talk to each other louder to continue the jokes that they had been making when the rest of the theater came alive as well.

Kaz got up so that he could stretch out his leg in the cramped box. Matthias disappeared so that he could get something to eat while Wylan stretched out, long and cat-like in his seat. He turned to Inej so that he could strike up a conversation with her about what went into the tricks that they were doing on the stage, which she was very happy to entertain.

Kaz watched her talk for a while, admiring the side of her face and the shining brightness that she somehow always seemed to bring with her. He wished that he could hold her beauty in his hands at all times, to admire her elegance and the warmth that she flooded into the world no matter what.

He was growing bored since he was listening to a conversation that he had with her more times than he could count. He turned his attention away from the giddy way that his girlfriend spoke to his boyfriend and instead directed it to Jesper and Nina.

She had a handful of popcorn halfway to her mouth while he balanced a kernel on the tip of his nose, his mouth wide open like it was somehow guaranteed that treat would fall down in that specific direction if it began to tip. Nina laughed with the joy of someone that was truly healed and free, no more the shaking, scared woman that she had been on the ship after she had taken the parem so that they could be free from Fjerda. Jesper looked brighter and happier, yet at the same time more grounded, than he had been in a very long time. Kaz knew that they were helping each other with their powers and learning how to love that part of themselves, something that none of the others could really relate to.

He let his eyes travel down and then smirked slightly when he realized what they were doing. Jesper’s dark brown skin stood starkly against the pale yet freckled shade that Nina’s was. Their fingers were also wildly different sizes, but they still fit together like a key sliding into the lock that it was made for.

Kaz leaned forward on the chairs, tilting his hips so that the throbbing pain decreased as much as it ever did. “Are you sure that the two of you didn’t just sit back there so that you could hold hands?” he asked, jerking them both from their activities.

Despite the odds, the kernel of popcorn did roll down off Jesper’s nose and directly into his open mouth. He threw both of his hands up into the air at the same time, which got the attention of their other two partners. Kaz noticed, with a bit of disappointment, that Nina had dropped his hand so that she could continue to shovel popcorn into her mouth.

She stood and dumped the bucket down into Inej’s lap as she said, “I know that Matthias said he was going to go get some more but he’s so distracted with Wylan tonight that he’s likely to forget my sweet Inej, so I want to make sure that you had some.”

“Thank you, love,” Inej laughed, that warmth and brightness flooding out of her like an endless river. Kaz was then distracted from the confusion that the duo separating so quickly had brought to him, focusing instead on the antics that the rest of his partners were pulling.

It was a very cold day in Ketterdam, but those were common. Wylan had grown up in the city in his entire life and even though he was often hidden behind big doors and windows that kept him separated both physically and metaphorically from the weather, he had been aware of it. He liked the cold, it made it easier for him to work in his lab without overheating. It also meant that he was more likely to find a cuddly Jesper when he walked home for lunch after his meetings with the Merchant Council.

He knew why they liked to meet in the mornings, since it was before a lot of the boats that they needed to do business with docked back in the harbors, but his lovers pulled so many late nights that if often left Wylan feeling absolutely exhausted.

He stifled a yawn behind the back of his hand and then pulled his heavy coat tighter around his body. He walked past one of the dewey storefront windows and had to stop for a minute so that he could examine himself. He had done something similar several years ago, when he was wearing the face of one of their closest friends.

This was far different than that was. He had the face that he had known the entire time that he was growing up, even if he had let Genya go a little further than he really should have. He had the same pale skin and bright blue eyes that he had seen over and over again when he had discovered that his mother was still alive. His chin had a gentle curve that went with the near-button nose in the center of his face. The thing that was different than when he normally looked at himself was his clothing.

He had been dressed in white button up shirts and pressed slacks for as long as he could remember, but wearing the black vests and overcoats that were typical of Merchers felt like he was putting on another costume. He knew that Kaz dressed like a Mercher to make the men that hoarded that power uncomfortable, a costume of sorts for him as well, but it was strange for Wylan to do the same thing. On one hand, he had inherited all of the land and fortune that his father had tried to deny him due to his inability to read, so he was actually a Mercher. On the other hand, he was still one of the international criminals that had broken into the Ice Court and stole one of the most wanted people in the entire world.

Wylan shook his head to clear it of the thoughts and continued home. He knew that everything felt heavier after one of those meetings because they took so much out of him. He wanted nothing more than to go home and check on the puppies that should have been fully whelped seeing as Matthias’ favorite bitch, a wolfhound named Mila, had gone into labor the night before. Coming home meant he also got to see most of his favorite people in the entire world, even if Kaz was going to be at work and Inej was one another one of her long voyages.

So he carried through the streets of Ketterdam until he approached East Stave. He slipped into the back alleys were no one would be able to tell where he was or follow him. He hadn’t known the paths of the city as well as Kaz had only a few years ago, but days of traveling using only them had piled into his repertoire so he could walk through any part of the city using any path.

He walked through the back door of his home and smiled when he heard the low voice of two of his partners in the living room, combined with the sound of a crackling fire. Wylan shed his heavy coat and hung it on the hook so that the wool would dry out, a couple droplets of rain had begun to come down when he had been on the last leg of his journey. He set the briefcase full of papers down in the office that he and Kaz used for when they had to bring their work home. Wylan was about to go on vacation so he didn’t have to find someone to help him read them just yet.

Instead, he traveled up to the bedroom so that he could change into something that was more comfortable. The starched shirt and stiff pants were hung back up in the closet like they always were when he came back from one of his missions. He changed them out for a pair of comfortable brown slacks and a baggy gray shirt that kept out some of the cold that was still leaking through the well-sealed windows.

He traveled back down the stairs and then peaked into the massive room where Matthias kept his dogs, the only other door in it leading to the dog run that they had in their backyard. He was about to go check on the squirming mass of fur when he heard a snore emitting from his boyfriend. The birth of puppies was the most stressful part of breeding, according to Matthias, so he always stayed up to make sure that everything went smoothly when one of his bitches went into labor. Given that it had been early in the evening when Mila had started nesting, Wylan knew that Matthias had been awake almost all night.

Instead of going inside, he carefully shut the door and then walked towards the living room so that he could join the partners that he hadn’t seen yet. He stopped before he crossed the threshold when he noticed that something was off about the room.

Usually there was a long couch directly in front of the mantel, a loveseat kitty corner to the right side, and then a pair of chairs on the other side. They had a table that went in between the chairs and then a large coffee table pinning down the rug in the middle. It made the room closed enough that they felt like they were in a den, but open enough that no one had to be touching anyone else unless they wanted to.

It took Wylan only a minute before he realized what the difference in the space was. Someone had moved the couch back about six inches and had placed the coffee table behind it, including all of the cups and dishes that remained there since their breakfast.

Pinning the rug down instead of their table was a pair of people that Wylan had grown very fond of. Nina was wearing a loose fitting red dress that billowed out around her like a pool of blood, which stood starkly against the pale of her skin and the dark brown of her hair. Jesper was weaning one of his linen button-up shirts and a skirt that as the same color red as Nina’s dress. They were turned towards each other so that their foreheads were pressed together, their hands pulling at each other’s clothes like they were both bored. They were giggling and talking in voices quiet enough that Wylan couldn’t quite make out what they were saying.

He walked over to the loveseat, placing his hands down on the top of it. “Since when did we decide that we would be redecorating the living room?” he asked, trying to resist the grin that was spreading across his features.

He loved the duo more than he knew how to say, even if his love for them was different. He loved Jesper, Matthias, and Kaz in a way that was deeply romantic and sexual. He loved Inej and Nina in a way that was just as passionate but also so starkly not romantic and clearly not sexual. He wanted to be close to them, to know their innermost workings. He wanted to hold hands and sit beside them, but he didn’t want to kiss them or have sex with them, even when he was having one of those days where he was craving that kind of intimacy.

As soon as he spoke, they sprang apart from each other. Nina climbed up onto one of the chairs as she worked some of the knots out of her long, curly brown hair. Jesper simply rose to his feet so that he was once again towering over the merchant. “Wy! You were gone before we woke up this morning, how did the meeting go?”

He was shocked at how quickly their demeanor had changed, but didn’t say anything about it even when Nina began to pull the couch back to where it belonged. He just told them about the tasks that he wasn’t looking forward to dealing with and the headache that was waiting for him at the end of his vacation. Whatever they were doing was their business, he wasn’t going to pretend like he understood what their love was like.

Long trips wore all of them out, but Matthias always felt exhausted when they finally arrived at their destination. He had a lot of memories wrapped up in travel and he didn’t think that it was something that was ever going to go away. He had spent a lot of his childhood going on very small journeys with his mother when they were heading into town from their home out in the woods and with his father when he was learning how to hunt so that he could provide for his future family. Then when he was with the Druskelle, they had spent a lot of their time traveling between the Ice Court and whatever other training facility that it had been decided would be best for them. When he had actually graduated, he had traveled to every country under the sun and even a couple of others that seemed to be in only darkness so that he could look for the witches that they had been hunting back then.

Even when they were walking down the long, dusty paths so that they could stay with Jesper’s father over the Zemini’s winter holiday, he still ended up feeling like he was trudging through sludge by the time that they got to the cabin. It left him exhausted down to his bones, which made Kaz tease him that he was getting old despite them all being about the same age.

He managed to stay upright on his feet long enough to get all of their bags into the little back room that they were going to be sleeping in before he collapsed down onto his cot. He only managed a nap before the smell of dinner made him wake up.

Jesper had made Zemini food for them back in Ketterdam fairly often since he was one of the two people in their entire polycule who knew how to cook and Nina liked to stick with baking. He always complained the that the spices and ingredients that they were able to get off the boats in Ketterdam were nothing compared to the fresh ones that he got back home. Now that they were actually in the country that the ingredients originated in, Matthias was excited to be able to try some of their favorites with the flavor that they were meant to have.

He hauled himself up from the cot and then blearily rubbed the sleep from his eyes. He was alerted to how nearly overheated he was when he stood up and his head began to swim. He removed the thick riding shirt that he was wearing so that he was in nothing but the loose cotton undershirt that he had donned back when they were in Shriftport. He was so used to the cold of Fjerda and then the nipping damp of Ketterdam that it actually astounded him that a place could be as warm as Novyi Zem was without the entire place being bleached white from the oppressive force of the sun.

Matthias walked out of the small room and then looked towards the kitchen where Jesper was. He smiled softly when he saw that his partner was dressed in nothing but a cotton undershirt as well, the sweat from standing over the stove having soaked through the garment so that it was clinging to his skin. It was reassuring to know that he wasn’t the only one that was suffering in the heat.

His cheeks turned red when he saw that Nina and Jesper were actually together, the others seemingly elsewhere on the farm. Matthias vaguely remembered something about Wylan and Inej wanting to see Kaz’s magic bird skills in action with the mean chickens that the Faheys owned. Nina was dressed in her slip and bloomers to beat the heat of the kitchen, but they were also clinging to her body with sweat.

Jesper turned around, singing a song in Zemini so softly that it was almost under his breath. Nina was singing along to it as her hands slowly traveled up his arms until they were resting on his shoulders. She threaded her fingers around the back of Jesper’s neck and brought their lips into a slow kiss. They were standing so close that their bodies were pressed together, though Matthias wasn’t quite sure how they were managing that in the heat.

He watched them dance, sharing kisses during the breaks of the song, for as long as he could manage before his stomach gave a loud grumble. The noise let them know that he was there and they sprang apart, both of them blushing furiously, though it might have just been the temperature from the outside combining with the steam raising from the pot on the stove.

“Matty, would you go outside and let the others know that dinner is ready? You’re the most dressed out of all of us and I need to get some of Ma’s old clothes for Nina since all she packed were things that would kill a polar bear in a Fjerdan winter,” Jesper said.

“It’s the winter in Ketterdam! How was I supposed to know that this was when Novyi Zem got hotter?” Nina asked, indignant but smiling. She brushed past Matthias after sharing a very brief kiss with him. He barely had time to say anything before he was being shepherded out of the door with a spoon that was covered in something that smelled absolutely heavenly.

Nina knew that she was cutting it close. Despite what her partners thought, she was actually very good at time keeping. She had to be given that she had been a student during a time of war and had been to more classes than the rest of her peers combined so that she could learn all of the languages that were now familiar to her. She just didn’t care about time when it wasn’t something that was crucial to their survival or wasn’t going to give her something that she wanted.

Now was one of those times. She knew that if she pushed the time that she was supposed to meet up with Matthias the only thing that would be waiting for her would be a grumbling boyfriend who would be soothed with a bat of her eyelashes and a kiss or two. No one was going to die, no teachers were going to come after her, and she would only be a few minutes late at the very least.

So once she was finished tugging her bodice into place over her skirt, she took her time while getting her hair spooled onto the back of her head. She left one of the elaborate ringlets that decorated her head loose around her face so that it made the freckles on her cheeks and nose stand out.

She figured that she had a bit of time left over after she finished getting dressed despite her late start, so she might as well go find one of her other boyfriends while she was at it. When she finally found him, he was sitting in his room in front of the workbench that he used to clean his guns and practice his Grisha abilities. “Hello, sweetheart,” she beamed as she knocked on the frame of the door to get his attention.

He jerked away from the project that he had been focused on and then beamed at her like she was the sun and moon combined together. “You look beautiful, darling,” he whispered as he reached a hand out towards her.

She stepped into his room and then took it, only to find that he used it to spin her around. He took in the full majesty of the outfit that she had chosen, his other hand grazing against her waist to keep her in the same spot in front of him. Then, he grasped her other hand so that her arms were crossed in front of her. Jesper used that to slip her into a hug, pressing their bodies directly into each other so that they were swaying to the music of their combined heartbeats. For a moment, Nina wished that she could still hear them.

“You’re going to have to let me take you to a dance sometime, especially in this dress,” he growled as he teasingly bit just underneath her jaw.

She giggled and tilted her head away from him so that he would have more space to work. “If we were going to a dance then I think I would wear something more svelte than this. Like that little black number that I got to accompany Wylan to that ball he really didn’t want to go to.”

Jesper moaned into the skin of her neck and she almost felt like she was dying. Wherever his hands were touching felt like they were on fire in a way that she couldn’t get enough of. It was just like the parem had made her feel, but healthier and beneficial to her. “I loved you in that dress.”

“Oh yeah? Show me,” she whispered when their noses were a hair’s breadth apart and she could already feel the arousal burning inside of him.

He didn’t wait even a second as he crashed their lips together in a burning kiss. Nina felt like he was trying to draw her soul out through her mouth and she was happy to let him do it. Their lips moved in perfect time with each other and his hands felt solid and grounding on her hips. His body was warm against her in a way that made butterflies shutter through her system so that she felt almost as though she was flying.

The entire world had melted away until they heard someone stop at the doorway, which caused them to fly away. “Am I really that late?” she asked as she looked to the perpetually broken clock hanging above Jesper’s wall.

“You are. I was worried, even though it looks like I did not need to be,” Matthias chuckled. She knew that it was good natured and there was no malice behind it, but she couldn’t help the shame that was burning in her cheeks at the words. She linked her arm through his and then began to ask him what he thought about her hair and her outfit while she led him back out into the street so that they could start their date.

She let her feet carry her to the easy access points to the roofs of Ketterdam. Gliding from shingled roof to smokestack to flat industrial tents felt like coming home as much as the smell of the sea and bread baking in an oven did. Inej found her thoughts drifting while she traveled back to the home that she had made with her partners, showing her just how little she needed to pay attention to where she was going after all of the time that she had spent flitting over the tops of the city.

She landed on the balcony that led into the master bedroom that they all used when they were feeling up to sleeping with each other. When she noticed that no one was in there, she flipped over to Nina’s balcony. Her girlfriend had apparently recently taken to gardening, based on the geraniums and poppies that she had managed to coax into blooming in the same planter box along the outside of the balcony. Inej imagined that Jesper and Kaz, the duo that had the most previous experience when it came to growing things, had likely tried to tell her not to. Wylan had likely made some sort of special formula that made the ground more fertile so that her beloved blossoms wouldn’t wilt and die. Matthias had most definitely been the person to actually remember to water the flowers.

She smiled fondly as she thought about how desperately she wanted to see them all again. She turned towards the aforementioned woman’s room so that she could see if there was anyone that she could startle in there.

She saw two figures on top of the blankets, but the sky was just dark enough that she wasn’t to make them out properly through the warped glass. She pressed her hand flat against the window and then slipped it open so that she could wiggle her body silently through the opening, but she paused as soon as she had a clear view.

Inej could see a lot more clearly who it was and what they were doing. Jesper’s tall form had his head against the headboard and his toes just barely pressing against the baseboard of Nina’s bed. His entire bare back was on display for her to see, including the silvery white scars from their early time together in the Barrel. His arms were wrapped around a body that was shaped very differently than his. When he rolled over, she was able to see that it was Nina.

They were both totally in the nude but they had a blanket vaguely draped over their legs so that they could avoid the chill of the incoming spring night. Nina had her long hair vaguely tied back so that it was out of her face with the tie that Inej had given her out of the first rope that had snapped on her ship. Jesper had his arms draped lower over Nina’s hips so that he was vaguely holding onto her thighs. Nina was leaned forward so that her forehead was against his neck. Their entire fronts were pressed together in a way that told Inej that Jesper was inside of Nina.

She was expecting to hear moans and see movement, but the only thing that she heard was the sniffling and hiccuping that came with crying. They were still except for the fidgeting that came whenever Jesper wasn’t actively running away from something.

She felt oddly voyeuristic even though she had watched them do a lot of things that were far more dramatic than nude cuddling. So instead of continuing to spy on them, she placed her legs down on the inside of the windowsil so that her toes could brush against the floor. She then knocked on the wall next to her so that they were alerted to her presence.

They jumped and turned towards the sound, both of them obviously confused before the color drained from them both. They separated from each other and scrambled to get their clothes on. Nina was wearing her shift and a pair of bloomers by the time that Inej properly stepped into the room.

“Inej, you’re back early!”

“I am,” she nodded.

She opened her mouth to ask what they had been doing before she was interrupted by Jesper saying, “Have the others seen you yet or did you come to visit your favorites first?”

“I don’t have favorites,” she answered, forgetting what had been happening before despite them still getting their clothes back to rights.

Jesper hated having to tell people about things that he was feeling. It was the one thing that made him a terrible boyfriend, outside of the inherent danger that his zowa abilities posed to his partners and his gambling addiction. Thinking about having to admit the reason that he and Nina had been so cagey about their affection with each other during the last six months made his stomach tie itself into an impossibly tight ball that he wasn’t sure he was ever going to get to come undone.

He knew that she was right, though. They had been walked in on when they were cuddling and touching each other more times than they could count and their partners were going to get suspicious. It was strange for them, since they were actually dating each other, to act like they were having an affair. They were dating the most dangerous and intelligent people in Ketterdam so there was no way that they were going to continue to get away with it.

Nina threaded her fingers together with Jesper’s and then kissed his cheek to remind him that she was going to be by his side through the entire process. That gave him the strength to do what needed to be done, as being touched almost always did.

They headed down the hall and into the main living room where everyone else had already positioned themselves. Matthias and Kaz were discussing some business venture involving another disgraced Druskelle in the chairs. Wylan was stretched over the loveseat while drawing something. Inej was napping on the couch, but she woke up as soon as she heard the two new people walk into the room.

“What’s going on?” she asked, able to pick up on the tense body language from Jesper immediately.

The duo walked so that they were standing in front of the empty fireplace so that no one had to crane their heads or look behind themselves while they had their conversation. “We have to talk to you about something,” Jesper managed to get out before he felt his throat constrict with fear.

“It’s nothing bad,” Nina quickly explained. “It’s just something that we want to explain before it does turn into something bad.”

He nodded in agreement. He looked over his partners and felt suddenly very put on the spot when he noticed that all four pairs of eyes were glued directly onto him. Usually he liked it when everyone was paying attention to him because that fed that part of his ego that made him feel so good. Right now, though, it felt like he was in trouble.

“Nina and I like to cuddle,” he blurted, awkwardly.

“Treasure, we all like to cuddle each other,” Kaz said. “Inej and I slightly less often, sure, but that doesn’t mean that this is something that has never been done within the Crows.”

“That’s just it,” Jesper shook his head. “You have haphephobia, Inej has her trauma from the Menagerie, Matthias gets easily overstimulated by touch, and Wylan doesn’t like having too much of it because of what he went through when he was a kid. Nina and I don’t have any of that so whenever we need the long-lasting touch we go to each other so that we can get it from someone else that wants it.”

“I’m confused, I thought that was the whole point of us all dating each other?” Wylan asked as he set his pad of paper down onto the table next to him.

“I’m confused about you two liking to cuddle specifically. Every time someone else comes into the room you immediately focus on them instead,” Inej commented as she and Wylan shared a look with each other.

“That’s just it! We like cuddling but…” Nina shifted awkwardly as she looked up to Jesper. He gave her the same kind of reassuring smile that she had given to him before they had come into the living room to face the rest of their partners.

They paused for a while, letting the nerves in Jesper’s stomach settle out. “The reason that we’ve been acting so weird around each other is because we don’t want any of the rest of you to feel like you’re inadequate for us because you can’t handle as much touch as we need. We want to make sure that you all feel loved and appreciated without overwhelming you.”

The others were quiet for a long time, simply staring at their partners like the duo had grown an extra head that was keeping them attached at the shoulders. Then Kaz began to laugh behind his gloved hand, shaking his head like he was in utter disbelief despite the turmoil that the whole situation had caused his partners, “Ghezen and all that is Holy. You two are so sweet that you’re going to make my teeth fall out.”

Inej reached across the space with her foot so that she could kick the chair just enough to get him to jerk. She then turned back to the duo with a soft expression, “We really love the fact that you’ve found a way to soothe that facet of yourselves in a way that benefits everyone. Thank you for telling us so we don’t have to worry anymore.”

“I was beginning to worry, it was so strange the way that you were acting,” Wylan nodded in agreement. “I thought that maybe you were hiding some sort of secret Grisha club.”

Matthias gave a small shudder at that and then frowned when he no doubt began to correct his thoughts. None of the other partners plied into what he was thinking when they all began to go back to their own tasks. Nina and Jesper settled down on the rug in front of the hearth after they had moved the coffee table again, talking about their day. This time they were also given insight from Kaz and Wylan, who were now free to listen to them and watch them cuddling even if they weren’t up for the task.

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sloshed-cinema · 4 months ago

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The Piano (1993)

The gothic romance, it would appear, has an uncanny valley. Shipped off by her family from rainy Scotland to muddy and rainy New Zealand, Ada McGrath is forced into the arms of her arranged husband Alisdair Stewart. Finding herself in a strange land with her young daughter Flora, Ada is forced to deal with harsh terrain and unfamiliar people, all while needing to communicate through either her daughter’s fiery translation of her sign language, written notes, or rigid and firm body language. She cannot speak, expressing herself instead through her piano playing, and she is stuck between two men. Alisdair is controlling and distant, and local handyman George Baines is coarse and blunt. Both men desire her, and she wants none of them. In its unfolding, The Piano manages to fall directly into the gulf between romance which is transgressive and charged, and that which is intended to be such but just comes across as creepy. Alisdair expects that his chosen spouse perform her duties because that’s her role and generally skulks around; not much needs to be said of him for that part. He is the patriarch incarnate. But George, in his game of exchanging sexual favors for the 88 keys of the piano that he’s holding hostage in a bid to garner her favor, is no better. The relationship blossoming between them seems to be prodded along because the film desires it to go in a direction rather than it happening in an organic sense, coercive that it is. That’s not to say it’s not without wit: writer-director Jane Campion finds indulgence within this, having George finger a hole in Ada’s stocking in an obvious innuendo, and later matching the handyman going down on the landowner’s wife to said landowner peeping in while having his hand eaten out by the family dog. Cue the train entering the tunnel. But the relationship between George and Ada isn’t love borne out of shared suffering, it’s some variation on Stockholm Syndrome. Ada’s position is unenviable, and the film leans into that, but it’s hard to buy that in the grander scheme of things. It just comes off as another case when I have to walk away scratching my head and wondering why movies seem to find these dynamics so sexually interesting. This has all of the trappings of a Wuthering Heights type situation but in its execution cannot balance transgression with coercion.

But perhaps this viewing was colored by my aversion to films that feel the need to hammer in the messaging or symbolism of their narrative. This is more Nathaniel Hawthorne than Haruki Murakami. Early on, we establish that the piano is Ada’s voice in the world. Indeed, her playing is anachronistic in its lyricism and fluidity, commingling freely with composer Michael Nyman’s lyrical and flowing score. People notice and comment on this. But needing to draw attention to something which is already clear is the least of the worries of the film. Throughout, conscious parallels are drawn in the most achingly obvious manner: the church pageant features a pantomime of the Bluebeard tale, a jealous man beheading his wives with an axe. Cue Alisdair with an axe. Ada removes a key from her precious piano, intended as a gift and love-affirmation to George, but it is intercepted by the vengeful Alisdair. By chopping off Ada’s index finger, he deprives her of her pre-stated voice. All of this would be fine, but for the fact that a play within a film literally tells you an idea you’re supposed to pay attention to, and the finger-severing is commented on obliquely when a Māori worker notes that the separated key no longer has a voice. All of this would be poetic but for how sweatily intentional is the presentation of it all. When the parallels are clear by implication, it starts to feel insulting when they get pointed to time and again by characters within the film. To that end, the conclusion of the film feels a little mixed: Ada finds a new life with George, and yet comments on her soul through her piano still binding her to its watery grave. Well, which is it gonna be, Jane? Just drown your character and put this to its watery grave, as you said you wanted to do so later.

The handling of the Māori was… not great. They’re present within the world of the film, as would make sense for the time period of the story. But at no point does the film look their way and think about the effects of colonialism inflicted on these people. Instead, they are largely presented as simpletons who cannot understand theatre effects but are useful when it comes to rowing canoes or carrying cargo.

All said, the ratio of loss from piano keys to human fingers isn’t exactly equivalent. SUCK IT, METAPHOR!!!

THE RULES

SIP

Someone uses a synonym for 'silent'.

Ada starts to play piano.

Close-up of piano hammers.

BIG DRINK

Flora tells a lie.

A number of keys is named in the piano ownership bargain.

Obscene amounts of mud.

#drinking games #the piano #jane campion #holly hunter #sam neill #anna paquin #drama #romance #historical drama #new zealand cinema

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cospinol · 7 months ago

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spring 2024 isekai log☆ we very, very narrowly missed a 1-2 isekai finish in my overall seasonal ranking this time around (thanks to tadaima okaeri stealing second place by finally deciding to lean into the sleazy side of its setting a little at the eleventh hour) so i think the takeaway of this season might be that i have bad taste in anime. anyways, highs and lows!

can you believe it, a season where the isekai log hosts the season's best show by a mile???!!! kantei skill is really, actually almost perfect in every way - neatly plotted, thoughtful in its theming, and absolutely bursting at the seams with delicious little character dramas. every single member of the main cast is good enough to carry an entire series on their own (as is appropriate to a plot about acquiring really good personnel), and the mock-battle arc that the season ends with once the whole cast's been brought together is not only a delight in its own right but a confirmation that this series both intends to commit to and is very clever at coming up with military strategy plots - basically all of its priorities are exactly what i want them to be ,and it executes them almost perfectly all the time. i haven't mentioned the isekai aspect at all yet because it's a classic case of 'we put tensei in the title to increase the viewcount of this standard fantasy series' and it almost never comes up in the series at all, except one random reference ars makes to hattori hanzo late in the series that came so out of left field that it made me laugh out loud. i can't overstate what a selling point ars is a protagonist, too, the rare case where his being a little plain and clumsy in some respects and highly competent in select others functions as *incredible* gap moe, he is so cute!!! nothing but respect for MY future emperor... this is a preliminary 8/10 but if next season continues to deliver while raising the stakes i'll increase the whole package to a 9

dainana ouji is structurally and tonally a lot more conventional - it's a goofy comedy about joining the adventurers' guild and killing demons and so on, it's just also insanely good on a technical level, understated but incredibly stylish with an excellent sense of comedic timing; its pacing is breezy and its cast is endearing, and the tournament arc in the manga (which it convinced me to read ahead in because i was enjoying it so much) promises even more. this series is a lesson in simple excellence, that's all!

after that of course there's nowhere to go but down, so we're immediately dropping down to the 'basically average on a normal isekai scale' sector with the new gate, which is really... generally pretty Fine for a normal isekai. it's hard to praise much about it when it has such stiff competition but while its writing is always thin and basic it's got close enough to an idea of what a story should look like to spare it from a lower score, and it never made me angry, so (<- a sad glance back at my usual standards for the genre). the only thing of any note at all about this show, unfortunately, is that it's incredibly ugly on a 'something went very wrong very early in production' level such that all of the characters look wildly off-model at all times; please look at what the protagonist's design already looks like on the poster and then imagine how the show's faring by episode eight

madome (not an isekai, but it's a basic fantasy LN with maou in the title, so) earns about an equivalent middling-four that i did also lightly consider bumping up just a little because its approximate competence in most respects eventually gets it to a pretty cute and decently well-earned no-harm-no-foul slice of life status quo by the very last episode, but ultimately for all this show's extensive parade of gimmicks and light-novel flights-of-fancy it never came up with anything that i cared enough about to give it an extra affection point. also, critically, i think the single most important aspect of the show (the romance between the two leads) is just nothing to write home about; it's not actively irritating but their respective neuroses don't interact in a particularly interesting or cute way - and i know they could, because this show is extremely similar to last fall's ikenaikyo (which has the exact same 'lol it sounds sleazy conceptually but it's actually fluff' premise (as well as just about the exact same protagonists), but which i didn't review at the time because it didn't put the demon lord part in the title, natch) and fares very poorly in comparison -- and as much as i liked that romance, i only gave that show a five, so. them's the breaks!

one level down, from 'nothing special here' to 'no, i mean there's literally nothing here', is dekisoko, where... there is nothing. the gimmick is kind of that it's not really an isekai because he was reincarnated in the same world, i guess, but it can't actually commit to it enough to give us any indication of when/where his first life took place relative to the current setting, which might give you some indication as to the care and consideration put into this series's writing. of course the premise is just a basic veneer and a justification for mc-kun's op abilities and what it's actually dedicated to is absolutely fucking nothing; it listlessly goes through some basic isekai motions (dad possessed by a demon! evil but not evil holy knights! elf forest! and other greatest hits), looks extremely bad the whole time, and then stops. the only character of note is the goddess (??) from the protagonist's previous life who also was reincarnated along with him(??), who has Two character traits (kinda goofy and speaks in the third person), which is twice as much as the rest of the harem, and a few cute interactions with the mc over their shared history, but then of course she's not even the main girl/actual fiancee, even though she's the redhead with twintails! the state of the genre, honestly...

and finally re:monster. this fucking show...... okay, so this show is pretty clear about what it is from the get-go; it's a basic tensura-like where the protagonist makes the most of being reborn as a low-level monster by using his random unrelated hax. the first few episodes of the show cover his early levelling-up as a small child whose peers are barely sentient, and instead of choosing to have very little dialogue it features a constant voice-over where the mc describes the events that happened to him, in first-person past tense, clearly almost verbatim from the light novel. it was around the fourth episode, when the protagonist was fully grown and now clearly having conversations with the other characters that we'd occasionally hear a line or two of between stretches of the same narration that had been going since the beginning in exactly the same overbearing quantity, that it hit me...... that this was going to be the entire thing. yeah, technically this is a television show; it's got pictures, and occasionally it trusts that you can understand that the protagonist is fighting a monster right now without having it explained to you, but for the most part what the experience of watching this series is actually equivalent to is reading a series of detailed episode summaries on a dedicated fan wiki, or possibly listening to someone read you a light novel!!! i swear could count on one hand the number of scenes where two characters exchange more than five lines of dialogue before the narration swoops back in to explain 'that scene happened to me' and shuffle us on to the next set-piece; we are never in ogurou's head in real-time; nothing happens in this show, it's all already happened. then we did this, then we did that. it never stops!!!!!

i did a little poking around to see if any other reviewers were as bothered by this as i was but it seems that i'm the only person in the world who this format drove out of their fucking mind - every time the 'next day' sound effect plays it's a drop of water on my forehead, slowly bringing me towards the brink. this fucking show... of course the plot's also atrocious even for a tensura-like and the tone (insofar as it's possible to set a tone in a wikipedia plot summary) is incredibly broken; in particular it's flippant about (and full of) sexual violence on a level that's shocking even for the genre and in a particular way that's downright nasty, given the fluff piece(????!!) that it generally seems to want to be when it gets down to character interactions; there's also all sorts of miscellaneous stupid crap like the names of the female characters not being revealed until after they've given birth to the protagonist's babies(??????????!!!!!!). i did ultimately just keep watching in the end to see if it would ever actually become a real show. it did not

and that's isekai for you. oh, i dropped tsukimichi 2 in the end; i'm only about eight episodes away from the finale but all of those episodes are the same showpiece-arc that i don't like the premise of lol. the moral of the season is that 'let's make a village for monsters' premise is the real evil and all the other subgenres should gang up on it and kill it

#i did kind of want to pick up lv2 cheat at some point because i LOVE 'jerk hero who dethrones the REAL hero mc-kun' characters #and the one in that show looks very cute. but i never got around to it so oh well #isekai log #txt #finally caught up in a timely manner for once! i only have three straggler finales left & then shinkalion but that's its bad for being late #and this cour of tousouchuu finally got subs yayyyyy <3333 beloved tousouchuu rides again #long ass post sorry i have many things to say

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