#the language is very visual in a way I don’t see often

[panthermouthh]

Where Johnny goes, the Devil follows; where Johnny goes, the Devil is already there.

Based on "A cornstalk fiddle" by the incredible @notbecauseofvictories

Finally finished this comic after months of zero progress. I adore this story and think about it often, and am so happy to finally be able to share this fan work with you. I hope you all enjoy!

[sasukekys]

vulnerability, manipulation, sexualisation

an attempt rewrite of my old post that picked up many instances which kishimoto sexualises sasuke’s character when he is being manipulated specifically. this was the post that first inspired me and, as you can see, sasuke’s sexualisation is also used to depict homoeroticism, show him as a desirable character, and even portray him as some type of heroine sometimes. this post will be long but i will not risk to put it under a read more and lose it forever k.

beginning with orochimaru, whose character is full of undeniably pedophilic subtext. we can say that orochimaru is an evil scientist that grooms children/teenagers, sasuke being one of them. in his case, orochimaru wishes to possess sasuke’s body in order to control the sharingan and he tries to make that happen by placing the curse seal on sasuke, something that actively triggers his trauma and anger so that he will seek orochimaru. the curse seal itself is the way orochimaru tries to manipulate sasuke and the whole context surrounding it is- shady, to say at least.

orochimaru’s first appearance is in chapter 45, but we start taking more of a look at him in chapter 47, titled “predator”.

as we can see, not only he compares sasuke to a prey and he himself to a predator and says that “he wants sasuke”, but there’s also the whole creepy and insinuating body language with his tongue, something his character does quite a lot.

the act itself of him placing the curse seal on sasuke is very telling… he literally bites his neck.

when orochimaru meets anko, he says sasuke is very beautiful, i’ve done some research on this and the original japanese text, of course orochimaru is admired by sasuke’s skills, you can see in the forrest of death chapters, but this panel specifically is also speaking of sasuke’s physical beauty, as in it’s something that matters to orochimaru as well. there is also the fact that orochimaru uses the word 美しい (utsukushii), which is not a very usual word to describe a person, it can be used poetically and to describe someone with a refined and delicate beauty. this matches with orochimaru’s way of speaking, but it also makes it more unsettling because it’s how he sees 12 year old sasuke. another thing i noticed is that in the moment orochimaru meets anko, he doesn’t show any of the creepy body language, not even once, even though he was just doing it in the previous chapter.

orochimaru again licking his lips at the sight of sasuke trying to control the curse seal.

and later we have not only orochimaru licking his lips at the thought of “painting sasuke with his own colours”, but also shuddering. quite an interesting choice of vocabulary btw, since sasuke is referred as a “blank slate” by other characters he is manipulated by. kishimoto doesn’t even need to use sasuke’s image or draw him present, but these are used in shady situations, and with characters that don’t really have the best intentions towards sasuke.

and of course there’s this very suggestive cover for the chapter named “the ritual”, in which orochimaru tried to take over sasuke’s body, the reason why he manipulated sasuke in the first place. so yeah, there’s very suggestive visual language and even plain text surrounding sasuke being manipulated, and despite orochimaru being the most obvious one, thanks to the pedophilic subtext, that’s not the only occasion that it happens in the manga.

i’ve talked about this before in some asks of my old blog, but sasuke is often put in positions more typical of heroines, such as being desired by both men and women, being sexualised, and needing to be “saved”. as the linked post already explained, kishimoto uses the legend of kushinada-hime to put sasuke in such position. what i want to talk about is the difference between sasuke’s fight with itachi and the “i will always love you” moment, in which sasuke finally speaks to itachi and finds out the truth by his own brother.

when sasuke fights itachi, he doesn’t know, but he is being manipulated by him, he is going after his revenge and doing as his brother told, with no knowledge of what happened to the uchiha. and this is the moment when kishimoto writes him as the princess/goddess/maiden that needs to be saved. a moment he’s also shirtless. it’s interesting because you might wonder he’s being saved from orochimaru’s manipulation, but only to (unknowingly) give in to itachi’s.

when sasuke wants to find out the truth by himself and talk to itachi however, kishimoto does no such thing. no shirtless or sweating sasuke in questionable positions, no metaphors to compare him as a maiden that needs to be saved, nothing to sexualise him whatsoever.

they constantly talk about itachi telling the truth to sasuke during his fight, and like i said, it seems kishimoto doesn’t see any need to sexualise sasuke here. even when you take a small detail such as itachi admitting he tried to use kotoamatsukami against his brother, again to manipulate him, you have a naked sasuke in the panel.

contrasting to itachi admitting that to sasuke himself.

i would say such an imagery in this context is interesting, because itachi is another character that refers to sasuke as a “blank slate”. nakedness = blank slate.

and the same happens when obito tells him the truth about itachi and his clan in comparison to when sasuke seeks the hokage to ask them about the uchiha and the shinobi system. when obito is talking to him, we have shirtless, sweaty and tied up sasuke, and we can say thay the panel compositions are the vert least... suggestive.

despite the fact that obito is telling sasuke what really happened, sasuke is being manipulated in this moment, it’s the first thing that happens after itachi’s death, when sasuke is at his most vulnerable, so obito can later use him as he wishes in his plans. he is not well intentioned towards sasuke either.

and this doesn’t mean obito or itachi see sasuke in a sexual way, it just means sexualisation is a resource used by kishimoto to depict something else. in these cases specifically, it’s manipulation.

and like i said, when sasuke goes after the hokages to have the answers himself, kishimoto does no such thing, even with orochimaru present, because sasuke is not being manipulated anymore.

the distinction is honestly very clear.

and by the way, there are different ways to portray sasuke’s vulnerability, such as trembling lips, a sad expression and a lowered head.

sasuke is probably the most sexualised character in the naruto manga, in kishimoto’s writing (not fair to say the series since there’s so much fanservice regarding hinata from studio pierrot), and his sexualisation is used in multiple contexts, this post wanted to point out only one of those contexts. i believe kishimoto uses this resource in a way to depict vulnerability in the face of abuse and grooming. the manipulation surrounding sasuke is a big theme for his character, who struggles so much for agency. despite everything, sasuke is able to keep his self determination and autonomy. and i must say it speaks volumes how such a recurring resource is never used with naruto, i think kishimoto is being very clear there is no manipulation in their relationship.

[mrs-stans]

How Sebastian Stan Finally Brought Hollywood to His Homeland With Romanian Festival Hopeful ‘A River’s Gaze’

By Matt Donnelly

It’s hard to imagine Sebastian Stan fighting for any part in Hollywood.

The Academy Award nominee has proven he’s as bankable in high-brow indies like “The Apprentice” and “A Different Man” as he is in soaring commercial fare like his continuing role as Marvel’s Bucky Barnes (next appearing in “Thunderbolts”).

It’s a cinematic homecoming that has eluded him over his career. Born in Constanța, Romania, Stan has been trying to find a way to bring his day job back to his birth country and highlight talent in the region. Stan told Variety that’s been looking for the right Romanian script to act in for the for the better part of 15 years. Now, he’s found a way to represent behind the camera as a producer on “A River’s Gaze,” a Romanian-set drama from director Andreea Bortun.

It’s a story close to his own upbringing, Stan says. His single mom Georgeta raised him across multiple countries while forging her own artistic and academic path. Bortun, whose work is a blend of anthropology and visual art, has sent up successful shorts to festivals like Cannes (where her collaboration with Stan has submitted for inclusion this year).

“A River’s Gaze” tells the story of Lavinia, a single mom herself whose ambitions of a better life for her 14-year-old son often eclipse his urgent emotional needs in the moment. Told over four seasons in rural Romania, Stan and Bortun caught up with Variety to discuss the artistic trip home.

Sebastian, how did you attach as a producer to this project?

This came from a lot of conversations I’ve had with her over the years about my desire to be more involved with Romania creatively. A mutual friend who we both admire and respect spoke highly of Andrea and sent me her short, which had gone to Cannes. I was immediately blown away. I’ve wanted to act in a Romanian film for a very long time. I’ve tried and it hasn’t come about, but I realized that I can also help behind the camera. Andrea’s script spoke to me personally. At the center is this very specific, intimate relationship between a mother and a son growing up in Romania under particular conditions, which I feel are not always reflected much to the rest of the world. I had my own journey with my mom growing up there and leaving the country. I felt there were things about it that really rang true to me, and that was great, because it only incentivized me to want to be involved further in helping her craft this vision.

Andrea, what would you say is the cinematic language of Romania?

Honestly, I don’t know if it’s still a time of one unique national voice. What Romanian cinema needs is – like all cinema needs globally – are underrepresented stories that show people that we don’t generally see. Characters that are not just compliant and feel-good.

SS: Andrea has a fresh take a woman’s perspective out of the country, which feels new for me. WE finally got a woman who has something to say about the experience over there.

There’s something about the aesthetic that feels very stuck in time. It was surprising to me to see the young male character with a cell phone in some of the scenes.

That’s a very interesting observation from a foreign eye. You would be fooled to say that the action happens 20-30 years ago. At the same time, it’s a mix of what people who have gone to work abroad have brought home with them. [Present-day] Romania is an interesting creature, a part of Europe that has had this history of migration.

Talk to me about the mother-son dynamic at the center of the film.

Our main character Lavinia is our hero, in the most tragic sense of that word. She’s an impulsive one, and she’s quite turbulent and irreverent at times. She wants to be a good mother for her 14-year-old son. She doesn’t know very well how to love, because we learn from what we had. She dreams of a better life for the two of them under bluer skies. For that part of the world, thought, the blue sky is the West. She moves into a decrepit house and wants to make it something that will last and be remembered for.

Her son is at an age where kids need their moms more than ever, this threshold before they flee the nest. She’s not quite aware of this, love to her means doing something meaningful with this house. Despite her efforts of making the best of what she can, there is a deepening of the rupture in between her and her son.

SS; You get to experience what this woman is going through in terms of trying to connect with her son and not abandon who she is. There’s someone to take care of and she must do it alone. You start to see how privileged we are in our family dynamics in the West. This person has to be superhuman dealing with these things with no resources or emotional tools. In my humble opinion, this film explores womanhood and how far it can stretch.

It seems like the community around her isn’t exactly uplifting.

She has an interesting connection to the community. She believes she is very different from others. She’s a fighter. She will go up a mountain to get what she wants. Those around her don’t like that, because she can be a troublemaker. She has a longing to detach herself from this community but doesn’t realize she’s a product of it. In a way, this film helped me make peace with the world I come from. I lived in rural Southern Romania and, after childhood, ran away to study abroad. The idea for this film came to me while I was in New York. I was seeing films from the ‘60s and I thought, “Wow, why don’t people make films about these kinds of women from Romania?” Like the strong Italian women of Antonioni. I came back and spent three weeks researching in villages. I did not want to be afraid of this world anymore. There was a feeling inside of me, something I had not accepted, but I am a part of that. Lavinia’s struggle is mine as well.

Sebastian, did you involve your mom in this process?

No, but she has seen the movie. It was very interesting to share that with her. There are certain moments that only people who have been up against this kind of thing can understand. My mom experienced a lot of hard truths post-revolution. Part of her understood the struggles of the main character. She also had me very young. People have kids a lot older now, and we have more time in the West to get ourselves sorted. A lot of people don’t have that opportunity. They’re still trying to figure out who they are. Andreaa caught that for me in a very authentic way.

[iwtv-theories]

Iwtv S2e5: The theme of “being in love with death.” (Analysis)

Tw for mentions of su*cide and brief references of Armand’s Childhood tra*ma.

There’s one theme in ep 5 that connects all 3 characters (Armand, Daniel, and Louis) together. That theme is how all 3 of them are “half in love with… death.”

We have Louis in episode 5 purposely throw himself into the sun to end his own life . This act is partially caused by his guilt of not being able to save his family ( Paul & Claudia). Louis hallucinates Claudia “calling” him to the roof . And Louis goes to said roof top when the sun is out . This is a call back to how Paul ended his life on a rooftop during the sun rise. And how Claudia dies by being forced into the sun, so Louis does so voluntarily. Claudia's last words to Louis were "I was nothing but a roof shingle that fell off of your house” (echoing paul's self exit as well). Louis says about paul's death: "that was the last sunrise I ever saw. Perhaps the kindest thing the dark gift has given me. I don't miss the sun. The reminders it carries." The sun symbolizes the su*cide of Paul, the death of Claudia, and his own temptation to follow in his brother's footsteps. We also have Louis choose to end his mortal life the night of Paul’s funeral. Where he says he ‘wanted to die’ before Lestat shows up to the church and turns him. Armand telling Daniel "I've been calling you for some time", is also similar to Claudia "calling" Louis to the roof. It's symbolic of how Louis has had these thoughts since s1 . The temptation of death has been "calling for some time."

The scene of Armand trying to convince Daniel to die in ep 5 is based on a short story by Anne rice. Where he represents a grim reaper of sorts - where they “love him” as a symbol of death . But his words to his victims are also said to “represent his own desires” ( aka Armand’s desire to die). Why he says “WE” all long for the “end”. He’s including himself . Book Armand has also attempted in the past (when the sun could still hurt him). After the attempt he realizes , with annoyance, that he’s too old & Marius’ blood within him is too strong -for the sun to actually k*ll him.

We even see both Armand’s and Daniel’s desire to die visualized by the de@d body between them (as they mirror each other’s body language ) . And the very next line of dialogue is “ I don’t want - to die ?On that matter I know something you don’t .”

Armand while holding the body even tells Daniel “I’ll keep digging (in your mind) but I’m not sure if there’s more to you other than a hole.” Then he leaves to presumably burry the body in a hole in the ground . After this he later describes his second memory (which the book confirms was his first r*pe) . He says “ my second (memory)… an eager black hole.” On one hand he may be describing Daniel’s eagerness for the story but it could also represent Armand wanting to get buried into a hole after that traumatizing experience . People often joke about the possible s*xual innuendo of Armand calling Daniel a “hole”. But if so, the symbolism behind that s*xually coded statement is more bleak than simply that. We also aren’t sure if Daniel had a similarly traumatic experience in his childhood like Armand-it could possibly explain why at 20 he’s already an add*ct , who sells himself, is 1/2 in love with death, and is interested in stories of people who are often discarded by society . Note Louis says his own “first sin” is what made him feel like he’s somewhere “dark.” So when Armand thinks of his “first memory” he thinks of what he incorrectly perceives as his “first sin” -his second memory (which makes him feel like he’s somewhere dark , where he can’t seem to find his way out, like a HOLE).

Falsehoods in his story aside. It’s not a coincidence that Armand in Dubai says to Daniel : “they went mad , ended themselves: The only thing that kept me from the fire were the old (religious) rituals.” Daniel seeing him pray as Rashid (*may hint he still uses religious rituals, as a way to fight his temptation to go into the fire ).

During a religious episode , he even went into the sun ('for god') despite assuming he’d go to hell . Armand:"I held up my open arms to the blinding light. This sinner dies for Him! This sinner goes to Him.Cast me into Hell, Oh Lord, if that is Your will." So it's possibly that in the show (similar to Louis' mom) he believes people go to Hell if they commit su*cide. So as messed up as its sounds it could explain , one of the reasons, he targets su*cidal people in the show. Cause if he k*lls the humans who were going to end themselves anyways - well (from his skewed religious view ) he may think he's technically saving them from hell if he k*lls them first ? In the books he was also known for ending the lives of su*cidal vampires, and his logic and motivations were different : "“In a world where suffering is eternal and the line between life and death is blurred, sometimes the kindest act is to end the torment. I do not take life lightly, but for those who wish to leave this existence, I offer them peace. It is a mercy, a final act of compassion in a world devoid of it.” Personally I think he should leave su*cidal people alone, but his motivations are certainly morally gray, if he truly believes that.

This also could explain one of the various reasons he choses the coven over Louis & Claudia (in the show). He already stated he believed Claudia throwing herself into the fire (like Nikki) was inevitable. Cough it wasn’t . And he probably already knew (via mind reading) about Louis’ su*cidality . Right after Armand agrees to the plan - he walks in on Louis with his wrists opened up (which probably solidified his choice further).

Assad even said that Armand is traumatized by Louis’ attempt in episode 5 . And even though Armand’s actions aren’t excusable. If he truly believed that Louis would go to hell if he committed . Armand’s motivations for erasing Louis’ memory of the attempt are more compelling and give more nuance to his character . He erased Louis attempt like he erased the slashes on his wrists. Even if his love for Louis is VERY warped: it’s the reason he couldn't let him die, nor help him end it (which is part of the reason why he erases his memories and essentially imprisons him in Dubai where he literally controls the windows and doors). It’s why he goes from letting Louis “f*ck off tri-annually” … to imprisonment. Even if he was agnostic : his motivations are certainly compelling even though they are not justifiable and go against Louis' autonomy.

What’s ironic is Armand with his su*cidal victims “calls” them to their death - but when the guilt of Claudia “calls” for Louis’ to end his life , Armand drags him back inside to prevent it .

What’s interesting is Daniel in episode 5 actively questions Louis’ desire to “end it” and fights Armand’s words about wanting “the end”. Because (unlike Louis or Armand) Daniel doesn’t perceive vampirism as (mortal) DEATH but as (eternal) LIFE! He “likes his life”. Deep down he "doesn’t want to REST (in peace)" via Armand. And in the end Armand essentially gave him what he wanted -unlimited life . A small part of him may have wanted death. But Armand may have actually sensed Daniel’s desire for a mortal death -because what Daniel ACTUALLY wanted was to be immortal. Field (young-Daniel’s actor) echoes somewhat similar sentiments.

Daniel being “half in love with death” probably signifies 2 things in the present storyline. His mixed feelings of accepting death at his old age vs his older desire for immortality (he may have been '50/50' on it in ) . But also it possibly foreshadows how he’ll eventually be “HALF IN LOVE” with Armand (who is the symbol of his mortal “DEATH “and the beginning of his immortal life).

[ambiguous-avery]

Chasing Shadows, Part 1

Dean Winchester x OC fem!Touched!Reader/You | WC: 2,999

Summary: She’s never been afraid of the dark, not really. She’s more concerned about getting lost in it. He’s haunted by every dark deed he’s ever done. It’s constantly nipping at his heels like a hell hound. He’s her light in the dark, and she’s the one bit of darkness he’s willing to embrace.

A series of murders has drawn the Winchesters to your small town, and for some reason, you’re at the center of it all. What are you hiding? And why does it seem to be painting a target on those around you?

Tags/Warnings: No use of Y/N, canon-typical violence, eventual romance,  eventual smut,  fluff and angst, POV alternating (sometimes a little all over the place), no beta we die like men

Disclaimer: The base concept of Touched comes from @aylacavebear and is used with permission. I’ve taken creative liberties with it.

A/N: I’ve never posted any of my work anywhere before, so this is a huge leap of faith for me. I’ve just gotten into the Supernatural fandom, so forgive me if there are things that don’t line up with the canon. I’m still in the early seasons of the show! I’m also new to writing x reader fics, so feedback is always welcome! I'll probably end up adding warnings as this goes on. Chasing Shadows Series Masterlist

This was the fifth murder in two weeks. The reports Sam had found had hinted at possible ritual killings due to the bodies reportedly being bloodless, but really, the Winchesters knew better. Everything about the deaths screamed vampires, so the question was less about ‘what’ was killing and more about ‘how many’ were doing the killing. Dean adjusted the collar of his suit and squared his shoulders before knocking on the door in front of him. Their initial snooping into the cases had led them to the most recent victim’s best friend. You.

“Hello,” Dean said your name and flashed his fake FBI badge with practiced ease. “I’m Agent Ehart; this is Agent Greer. We were hoping we could ask you some questions.” You gave each of them a quick visual once-over before you stepped aside and opened the door wider for them. They each gave a quick, appreciative nod and situated themselves on a couch in the living room, looking wholly out of place against the decorations and outdated couch fabric.

“Can I get either of you something to drink?” you asked. Sam shook his head.

“We’re alright, thank you. I’d like to start off with "we're very sorry for your loss." I’m sure it isn’t easy,” he began, resting his elbows on his knees and lacing his fingers together.

“Thank you,” your tone was clipped as you sat down across from them. Your body language spoke volumes. The way your shoulders were hunched. The way you almost seemed to curl in on yourself, trying to be as small as possible. Your eyes were still red and swollen, the result of at least one recent cry session, probably more. “I already spoke with the police.”

“We understand. See, we’re conducting our own investigation. With so many recent incidents happening in such a short span of time, we’ve been called in,” Sam said, keeping his tone polite but professional.

“So… five deaths is the threshold for the police to bring in the big guns, huh?” They thought you might have been trying to make a joke, but there wasn’t any humor in your voice. Dean wet his lips before responding.

“Something like that… if it isn’t too much to ask, could you go over the night it happened? Anything stand out in your memory?”

You thought for a moment, running the night through your mind. As you reiterated the evening to them, they listened with rapt attention. You had been over the story so often and in so much detail that it was beginning to sound rehearsed. In a way, it sort of was. 

“We were out at a restaurant. We’ve both been so busy lately that we haven’t had some girl time, so we were catching up. It was uneventful, really,” you said with a half shrug. “The strangest thing about the night was a guy who crashed into her on our way out. But again, I’ve already told the police about him.” You looked at Agent Ehart, trying to get a read on him. Unsurprisingly, he wore a sort of grim determination on his face, but there was something else there. You weren’t sure you could put your finger on it. He seemed a bit young to be an agent – both of them did – but he carried the world-weariness of someone who had lived many more lifetimes than appearance would suggest. You wondered what kind of stories he might share over a drink or two.

“Tell me more about this guy,” the one with longer hair – Agent Greer, was it? – cut in. You jerked your head to look at the other agent, abruptly pulled back into the present moment.

“I dunno. There’s not much to say about him. We stepped out of the restaurant, and he walked right into her. Knocked her purse to the ground. All her stuff spilled out, and he couldn’t even be bothered to stop and apologize. Kinda seemed like he was drunk with the way he was stumbling on his feet.” You shifted a bit in your seat. Now was hardly the time to get distracted, not when you were a hair's breadth away from falling to pieces.

“Have you seen him around town before?” the same agent continued.

“Can’t say I have. Then again, I tend to keep to myself when I’m out and about. I don’t think I’d be able to recognize the barista I see every few days if I passed them in a grocery store.”

“I see… and you’re sure there’s nothing else you can think of that seems… odd to you? Really, any detail you might feel doesn’t matter might end up being quite significant. No matter how unbelievable it might be.” You were quiet for a moment, debating. “I promise, there’s nothing you can tell us that we haven’t heard before,” Agent Greer pushed. Something about the hazel-eyed agent’s tone made his words heavier, like there was a more profound meaning behind them than he was letting on. You swallowed hard, gaze dropping to the ground. 

The first chink in your carefully curated mask showed as a flicker of something flashed behind your eyes. The short-haired agent leaned forward, the movement catching your attention. You looked up, and you’re sure that if circumstances were different, you could’ve gotten lost in the agent’s green eyes. 

“Sweetheart, please. We want to catch this guy and keep him from killing anyone else.” His voice was soft and sounded more genuine than the other officers who had questioned you the day before, and somehow, the ‘sweetheart’ nickname didn’t grate on you coming from him. Maybe it was the way his voice rolled over you. Or maybe it was because he had a pretty face.

“I didn’t do this,” you said quietly. 

“I know you didn’t.”

“I feel like I’m going crazy or I’m being vain or something.” You maintained your eye contact with him as though it would make him believe you. “I knew them. All of them. Not well, mind you. Some more than others.” The crack in your mask splintered further. “I know how this looks, but I swear I didn’t have anything to do with it. I know you don’t believe me, but I promise on everything that matters to me.” Your voice cracked, and you squeezed your eyes shut, the familiar feeling of stinging tears behind your eyelids. The sound of fabric rustling drew your attention, and when you opened your eyes, the agent who called you ‘sweetheart’ was standing beside you, a reassuring hand on your shoulder. You leaned into the touch slightly. He was warm, and the touch was comforting.

“Don’t worry. You can tell us anything. We’ll get him,” he said.

They didn’t get much more information out of you. Your inability to give them a solid description of the guy you saw outside of the restaurant was a real damper on their investigation. However, Dean had left a card with his name and number with you on the off chance you remembered anything else. With a heavy sigh, Dean set the duffel bag he was holding onto the motel bed, running a hand through his hair. Sam was seated at the small table in the room, typing away on his laptop. 

“What do you think, Sammy? Still dealing with a vamp?” The two had done away with the stiff suits, and Dean was happier back in his t-shirt and denim.

“I mean, every report I find talks about the bodies being exsanguinated. I don’t know many other creatures that would do that.” Sam turned his computer, letting Dean look over the documents they had gotten from the local police.

“What about a chupacabra?” Dean suggested.

“Everything I can find about those says they go for livestock rather than humans. Vamps fit the bill the best.”

“Yeah, but… the thing that I can’t figure out is ‘why her’? She said she spent time with each of them the same day they were attacked. Vamps don’t usually have a pattern that centers around one person,” Dean said, leaning over to skim the computer screen.

“Maybe it’s a vengeful spirit that’s latched onto her?”

“That would explain the victims’ connection to her but not the blood loss. Unless it has something to do with how the spirit died. But even then, there’s no report of the crime scenes being particularly bloody.” Sam leaned back in his seat as Dean spoke, drumming his fingers on the table. 

“And we’re positive she’s not a part of all of this? She said she didn’t tell the police about her connections with the first vic because she didn’t want eyes on her. That’s not something that someone innocent says,” Sam asked while taking his laptop back and scrolling through the reports again, as if some new detail would stand out to him. 

You had said that you knew all the victims, but the extent of which varied greatly. The first one was an old friend of your parents who you didn’t interact with much, but the one time you did, he was attacked. Victim two was a coworker in a different department who was attacked after a lunch meeting with you. Number three was a taxi driver who had driven you home after a late night at the office, and number four was someone you had met at a bar and shared a drink or two with. Ultimately, though, you hadn’t ended up going home with him. And the most recent one had been your best friend, one you had just hung out with the night of the attack. You weren’t wrong. It was extremely suspicious that you had a connection to all of them, no matter how insignificant it seemed. You had never mentioned your connection to the first victim, and the next three had far stronger connections with others that the police never really glanced your way. Number five was the first time they had looked closely at you, but without the knowledge of your link to any of the others, nothing looked suspicious to them. 

The Winchesters weren’t buying it. 

They spent the better part of the day doing as much digging into the cases as they could, even managing to schmooze their way into the morgue to see the body. As the medical examiner pulled back the sheet to reveal the body, both Dean and Sam’s gazes locked onto the very obvious bite mark on the victim’s neck. 

“Kinda gruesome, isn’t it?” the medical examiner asked. He was a younger kid, probably in his mid twenties, if they had to guess. 

“You can say that again,” Dean mumbled, slowly looking up and down the body.

“All the victims have the same kind of wound on them?” Sam asked, motioning to his own neck. The examiner nodded. 

“Unfortunately so. I try not to jump to conclusions, but I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors of these being ritual killings. Hard not to assume the worst when everything’s pointing in the same direction. Have you guys seen anything like this before?”

“Not exactly like this,” Dean said, shaking his head. 

Everything pointed to a cut and dry vamp nest except for the way they were targeting victims. Why you? More specifically, why those around you but not you directly? Maybe one of the vamps had a vendetta? That would’ve only made partial sense. Only two of the victims seemed to have a more profound connection to you – the neighbor and the best friend. They spent the drive back to the hotel running through every possibility. The sun was sinking behind the hills by the time Dean got out of the shower and dressed. 

“There has to be something we’re missing,” he said as he took a seat on the bed.He grabbed the jar of Dead Man’s Blood from the duffel bag he had shoved beneath the bed and spun it in his hands, his leg bouncing. They had exhausted just about every avenue including variations of vampires in different myths and lore across the world. Nothing was fitting the bill.

“We can always go back and ask her more questions tomorrow,” Sam offered.

“Yeah but what do we even ask? She already said she has no idea why anyone or anything would target her. And I know lying isn’t completely out of the realm of possibility, but it just seems... unlikely. Our last option is that she’s in on it, and something’s telling me that’s not the case.”

“You sure you’re thinking with the right head about that?” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh please, do you think I’m blind?” Sam scoffed, a light smile playing on his lips. “You’re a sucker for those big, doe ‘help me’ eyes.”

“Shut up,” Dean grumbled, “She’s a pretty girl in a shitty situation.” The jar of blood was still in his hand, the liquid sloshing around as he tilted it back and forth. Sam rolled his eyes, shaking his head slightly.

“Yeah, and you’re gonna swoop in, save the day, get the girl, and ride off into the sunset.” Dean flashed him his signature boyish grin, the kind of grin that Sam knew was going to get them into trouble sooner rather than later. “Look, just keep it in your pants until we figure this out, yeah?” He ran a hand through his hair and leaned back in his chair. Maybe if they looked more into your connection with the victims, something else would show up. 

Dean’s phone went off in his pocket, and he set the jar down on the bedside table before fishing it out of his pocket. He tilted his head to the side slightly as he looked at the number. He didn’t recognize it.

“Hello?” He asked, hitting the speaker button.

“Dean?” your voice crackled over the phone’s crappy speakers. You sounded scared. Dean was on his feet, grabbing the Impala’s keys from his other pocket as you spoke. “I think I’m being followed.”

“Where are you at, sweetheart? We’re on our way.” You rattled off a cross street then for good measure, gave a landmark for reference. “Stay around other people, anywhere with lots of foot traffic.” There was no response.

The part of town you had directed them to was the opposite of what Dean had advised. It was a commercial area some distance away from the downtown shopping district several blocks over. What in the world were you doing out this late with all the recent incidents? You had better not have been trying to solve this yourself. Dean had parked, and the two of them armed themselves for a fight. On second thought, maybe it was a blessing in disguise that you had been out of the way of others. There was no one to judge them as they briskly moved down the sidewalk, checking down the alleys between the buildings. The sound of a scuffle and a pained cry from the next building up caught their ears, and the two of them hoofed it.

The boys turned the corner just in time to watch the vampire sink his teeth into you. The scream in your throat died to a soft whimper, hands uselessly grabbing at the vampire’s arms as it held you against the brick wall. Dean was the first to respond, firing off a bullet soaked in Dead Man’s Blood before Sam even had a chance to aim. It took two more shots before the vampire finally relented, dropping you to the ground, fangs still holding a chunk of your flesh it ripped from you. It clutched at its side where the bullets had sunken in before turning and booking it around the corner. Dean and Sam shared a knowing glance before Dean chased after it. Sam tucked his own gun into the waistband of his pants and knelt down beside you, worry and concern and anger etched into his features. Your eyes had slid closed, and your own blood soaked your shirt, oozing from the open wound in your neck. Sam gingerly eased you so you were sitting up rather than lying in a crumpled heap on the cold ground. He winced, quickly finding your wrist to check for a pulse. Even with his expectations on the ground, Sam was still disappointed when he didn’t feel anything.

“Shit... I’m sorry,” he breathed, brushing stray hair from your face. “I’m sorry we weren’t quick enough.” He stood up, pulled out his own gun, and chased after Dean, mentally promising that he’d make it up to you by killing this son of a bitch.

“I’m telling you, Sam, it was weird. It was like the Dead Man’s Blood had no effect. No lethargy, no weakening of his abilities, nothing. We saw his teeth. If that thing ain’t a vamp, then I’m the queen of England.”

“That doesn’t make any sense. Maybe it’s because we caught him mid-feed? Maybe the fresh and dead blood cancel each other out in a way?”

“I dunno. But if there’s one, there’s bound to be a nest of them. And we’re gonna need a lot more blood than what we have on hand. Which alley did you leave the vic down?”

“Seriously, Dean?” Sam stopped abruptly, grabbing Dean’s shoulder and staring hard at him. Dean ran a hand over his face and pressed his lips together in a tight line.

“Look, it’s better to do it before the body’s locked behind yellow tape. We need every advantage we can get, and we might as well make her death worth something. Plus, she gets revenge on her killer. It’s a win-win situation.” Sam sighed and shook his head, letting his hand fall away from Dean.

“I hate it when you make sense,” he grumbled, turning the corner. The two of them stopped dead in their tracks.

“Sam...” Dean began slowly, “where’s the body?” Sam gaped at the empty alleyway. For a moment, he thought maybe he had made a wrong turn, but he recognized the dumpster with the mattress sticking out of it. 

“That is a great question...”

---

Thank you for reading, please feel free to leave a like, comment, or reblog! I would be forever grateful! 💜💜💜 Drop a comment, ask away, or add yourself to my taglist!

Part 2

[drowned-cypress]

“Do you mind if I play some music?” Robin asked, shuffling through her PDA.

“What is music?” Al-An asked.

Robin had to stop and think about that one. “It’s… a form of expression,” she answered, setting the PDA aside.

“Expression?”

“Communication. Art,” Robin clarified. “Music is a combination of sounds using rhythm or harmony or melody or words, or some combination of those, which attempts to communicate complex or elusive ideas and emotions.”

“Is this not already a function of your system of language?”

“Well, yes, but music isn’t nearly so precise, and there’s an aesthetic component to it as well.”

“If it is not precise, why utilize it?”

Robin frowned. “The value of music isn’t in its utility. Music is often very beautiful, though not always. Usually music is just… more visceral than language. We experience it on an emotional level.”

“It is instinctual?”

Robin opened her mouth, then shut it again. Oh. Al-An wanted an explanation from a biological standpoint. “There is evidence of a biological basis for music. There have been arguments that it was an adaptive trait for our ancestors–a means of social cohesion when living in large groups, to convey and regulate emotions. It’s a kind of communication that’s thought to be older than language. Some research suggests that language evolved from music.”

“I would be interested to hear an example.”

Robin shrugged and scrolled through her PDA’s menu system to put on one of her favorite songs. It was a mostly instrumental piece, but it had choral accompaniment. She always felt like it conveyed triumph in adversity and a kind of breathless elation, the joy of success. It made her feel like she was flying. She closed her eyes and listened. There was one part of the song that never failed to give her chills.

“I believe I understand,” Al-An commented once the song faded to silence. “It has an impact on your pulse and breathing. It makes you move differently. This response could come from a kind of synesthesia endemic to your species, connoting combinations of sound frequencies with specific emotions in your brain’s emotional centers.”

Robin fidgeted with her PDA as she thought about that. He had apparently been observing her reaction as much as he had been listening to the music. “You’re probably not wrong, but the experience isn’t universal. The emotional responses people have to specific pieces of music depend on the kind of music they’ve been exposed to in the past, especially during their developmental years. It’s like language in that respect: a learned social behavior. Also, musicality isn’t limited to just humans. Plenty of other animals enjoy, and even make music. For example, there are many species of bird native to Earth that produce complex melodies as part of their calls.”

“My people have encountered species with complex vocal calls before. We have determined that those calls often elicit an emotional response in other members of the species.”

Robin nodded. “Exactly. Humans are not unique in that respect.”

“So music is the vocal call of humans?”

Robin hesitated. “We don’t really think about it like that, but you wouldn’t exactly be wrong to interpret it that way. Music can serve some of the same evolutionary functions as animal calls. Though, while humans are incredible vocal mimics, we use instruments as well as our voices to make music. These days though, music is mostly viewed as entertainment.” Robin paused before asking, “Does your species have a call? Even if you don’t use it anymore, I’d be interested to know more about the evolutionary origins of your species.”

There was quiet as Al-An gave the question some thought. “No, we do not have a vocal call,” he finally said. “We did not evolve a biological means of creating complex vocalizations. However, before we evolved telepathy, our ancestors first expressed emotions through bioluminescence.”

Robin’s eyes widened. “I would like to see that. That sounds amazing. Do you still have bioluminescence? Do you make visual displays with it as an art form?”

“Yes, we have kept the bioluminescence, but while we can control it to a small degree, it is largely an involuntary part of what you would likely call our limbic system.”

“Ah, so more like body language.”

“That is accurate.”

There was a long moment of quiet between them as Robin thought about what Al-An had said. “Didn’t you describe the network as a kind of harmony of strings?”

“Ah. Yes, but in a metaphorical sense. I had not realized your species utilized harmonies.”

“But you understand the concept of harmony? That’s a musical concept.”

“It is a known phenomenon. My people find the mathematics of sympathetic resonance to be aesthetically pleasing.”

Robin blinked. They found the mathematics to be aesthetically pleasing, but they held no opinion on the actual sound? She supposed that explained why he didn’t really understand music. Or perhaps they did have their own music, but it was unrecognizable in comparison to what she had played. “But why use that metaphor?”

“It is…” Al-An made an inarticulate, frustrated noise. “Trying to describe the sensation of the network to you is trying to describe a sensory experience you have never had using a communication method that is imprecise and inadequate for the task. Your language does not contain a word for the sensation because no human has experienced it. The best I can do is use one of your own senses as metaphor. It is like describing your tactile ability to detect vibrations as similar to your ability to sense temperature. They may be somewhat similar, and serve similar functions, but are by no means the same.”

“Ah, so the network doesn’t sound like literal strings.”

“No, it does not sound like anything at all. But as a metaphor for the network, the concept of harmony is appealing. Each individual has their own frequency, and when grouped properly, interactions may produce resonance. Your sense of hearing also works better as a metaphor than any other sense you possess, because humans communicate primarily through hearing.”

Robin chewed her lip, thinking. The picture he painted of his species was very alien: they didn’t produce complex sounds, and communicated through telepathy and bioluminescence. It sounded fascinating, but she didn’t want their differences to become a wall between them. “Will you still be able to communicate with me once you get your own body?”

“You need not worry.” Al-An’s usual monotone carried a softness Robin was not used to hearing. He was getting better at picking up on her emotions. “Even if I could not calibrate my telepathy to a frequency you are able to receive, I would still be able to produce sounds in your range of hearing through my cybernetic components.”

Robin smiled. “Want to hear more music?” she asked, changing the subject.

“Yes,” Al-An replied with a kind of eagerness that made Robin’s smile widen. “Please, proceed.”

[justforbooks]

David Lynch: A life in quotes

The visionary film-maker and prolific artist, purveyor of the dark, mysterious, abstract and unspoken, died aged 78

David Lynch, the enigmatic film-maker who revolutionized American cinema and television through his dark, surrealist vision, has died at the age of 78, less than a year after the lifelong smoker publicly revealed his struggles with emphysema.

Lynch forged an idiosyncratic career that bridged the experimental fringes and the mainstream. After a peripatetic, middle-class upbringing in the American mountain west, he studied painting and made several experimental short films before his cult-hit breakout, Eraserhead. His career – including the award-winning films Blue Velvet, Wild at Heart and Mulholland Drive, as well as the landmark TV show Twin Peaks – earned him an honorary lifetime achievement Oscar in 2019.

A consummate and prolific artist, Lynch worked furiously across mediums – he produced paintings, released albums (including collaborations with Lykke Li and Karen O), created a long-running YouTube weather report, opened a Paris nightclub, and co-authored a memoir. His final feature film, Inland Empire, was released in 2006. Here are some of his most memorable quotes:

On ideas:

They’re like fish. If you get an idea that’s thrilling to you, put your attention on it and these other fish will swim into it. It’s like a bait. They’ll hook on to it and you’ll get more ideas. And you just pull them in. — to the Guardian, 2018

On translating ideas to screen:

It’s a feeling, more of an intuition. It’s the idea that you’ve fallen in love with, and you try to stay true to that. You see the way that cinema can say that idea, and it’s thrilling to you. — to the Guardian, 2018

On mystery:

I don’t know why people expect art to make sense when they accept the fact that life doesn’t make sense. — to the Los Angeles Times, 1989

The big mystery is life as a human being … Life is filled with mysteries, just filled. Human beings, we’re like detectives. We like to think about these things, or I sure do, and we want answers. The secret is: the answers are there, and they also lie within. It’s all there for us. If we want to get it, we can get it. — to the Guardian, 2024

Certain things are just so beautiful to me, and I don’t know why. Certain things make so much sense, and it’s hard to explain. — to Chris Rodley for Lynch on Lynch, 1997

On absurdity and humor:

Absurdity is what I like most in life, and there’s humor in struggling in ignorance. If you saw a man repeatedly running into a wall until he was a bloody pulp, after a while it would make you laugh because it becomes absurd. But I don’t just find humor in unhappiness – I find it extremely heroic the way people forge on despite the despair they often feel. — to the Los Angeles Times, 1989

On failure:

In a way failure is a beautiful thing, because when the dust settles there’s nowhere to go but up, and it’s a freedom. You can’t lose more, but you can gain. — from Room to Dream, 2018

On success:

Success can screw you because you start worrying about falling and you can’t ever stay in the same place. That’s just the way it is. You should be thankful for successes, because people really loved something you did, but it’s all about the work. — from Room to Dream, 2018

On visual language:

A film or a painting – each thing is its own sort of language and it’s not right to try to say the same thing in words. The words are not there. The language of film, cinema, is the language it was put into, and the English language – it’s not going to translate. It’s going to lose. — to the Guardian, 2018

On human potential:

Sublime eternal love is a possibility for human beings, and every human being should know that – it exists within each one of us. — to the Guardian, 2024

On watching films:

I’m not a real film buff. Unfortunately, I don’t have time. I just don’t go. And I become very nervous when I go to a film because I worry so much about the director and it is hard for me to digest my popcorn. — Cannes Film Festival press conference for Fire Walk With Me, 1992

On reviews:

The good ones aren’t good enough, and the bad ones will depress you. — to the Guardian, 2018

On an artist’s life:

You gotta be selfish. And it’s a terrible thing. I never really wanted to get married, never really wanted to have children. One thing leads to another and there it is … I did what I had to do. There could have been more work done. There are always so many interruptions. — to the Guardian, 2018

An artist’s life is very selfish. But it’s thrilling to create something, and you need a certain set-up for the process to take place. You can’t have a lot of obligations. — in Room to Dream, 2018

On his reclusive lifestyle:

I like to make movies. I like to work. I don’t really like to go out. — to the Guardian, 2018

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at Just for Books…?

[ithurtsogood]

everything here is fantasy and assumed between consenting adults 🔞

minors, do not interact

disclaimers & content warnings

this is an adult content focused page and might contain some very hard kinks, either in likes as in interactions, some of them roleplaying situations that can actually resembles someone’s trauma

if this is you: i am so so sorry and i see you and you are valid and you have the right to feel whatever you do about this thing i do here, my advice for you if that’s the case though is blocking pages like mine; doing that they already stop appearing for you, there’s no need of reporting and stuff pls i dont want to be nuked 🥺

and for our community: put CWs on stuff is not that hard (one day i’ll elaborate this further i’m becoming talkative and at this point i’m tired lol) (self-critique, i need to do it with my content. i will be when i have time, i didn’t thought on my acc as something public at first lol)

• on my account i am talking about lots of simulated non-consenting, degrading scenes and language in general and some mid body restrains - sore (no blood, though - i have my limits, too; check list below for them) go somewhere else if that kind of subject causes distress on you.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

about me

polyamorous, bi/pan, late 20’s cis woman, probably hypersexual, GMT -4 -3, english as second language, autistic, sub-leaning masochist

📏 5’4 ft(1,64) 🍒 36E

dms are open, but i will check your ✨vibes✨ before knowing how i want to interact to you;

for professional overthinkers i might had interacted: any delay on answering is not personal, i just have a life outside of this/might just not be in the mood. i don’t ghost people, just respect my pace pls (if we ever have a problem i prefer to address it honestly; i only block in extreme situations where dialogue was tried and failed)

feel free to send fantasies and visual content aka porn but p l e a s e mind to read my personal preferences and limits, it will be crucial to me deciding if we’ll have a fun interaction (most likely), a short ones or (i reserve it to really bad cases, hope not need it, instant block) //body pics politics: i usually want to see it but ask first just in case. i never share or poste and i expect the same from you if we ever get to this point :)

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

in general im very very sub leaning (at a point of when i did my last bdsm.org test i didn’t even answered questions designed for dom/me side), my list of kinks and their color coding was written on my thoughts of being receiving part/bottom. but since lately i’ve had some fun exploring my (very subtle) domme side, i made a parallel list of things i feel would be into on giving a sub (though i guess i prefer to study each individual ones, it’s part of the fun for me) ;they will appear in bold in my color coding list below

might appear often/ i’m really into

cnc, rape play, free use, gang bang, object inserting, inspection, spanking, impact play, sensorial deprivation, choking, sonmo, body worshipping, feet play, overstimulation, multiple stuff inserted in my holes omg i <3 to feel fulled, bondage, pain play (clit and nipples punishmennt hmnn), kidnapping, being kept in a dungeon as a sex slave, humiliation, degradation, spit, slap, fisting, school authority teacher/detention (bullying scenes, my beloved), objectification, body writting, pet play

praise and objectification in a more psychological way

under certain conditions/ with specific people

blood, age play, public tasks irl, ddlg, misoginist roleplay, piss play (swallowing is red zone though), electric play

i wouldn’t and i prefer don’t see content about

scat, puke, permanent body changes, gore, feederism/ food control, bestiality, pregnancy, raceplay, incest (and sorry folks, even the fauxcesty mommy/daddy language makes me uncomfortable, but this ones is more a personal thing than an actual judgment), actual misoginy or any kind of talking that demands degrading an entire group of people*, not only those to agreed to participate (i want to eventually elaborate that concept)

* ik i have some ftm degradation posts saved, but i wouldn’t feel comfortable doing that to someone, it’s just.. situations i imagined myself being under, before seeing the tag (which might not make sense since i’m cisgender, but well, my imagination is fertile) and was so well written to not save (i’m not always checking the source page from where i save stuff, sometimes i’m just scrolling the feed and like spamming; but if i ever interact in a post of yours in a way you’re not comfortable, or if your page is a cis people dni, feel free to tell me, and i step back, unlike and offer my sincere apologies. // tl;dr: this page is and always will be trans/nb ally 🏳️‍⚧️

if you read this till the end and Agree on Terms of Use™️, start your dm with a ʚ₍ᐢ ›̥̥̥ ༝ ‹̥̥̥ ᐢ₎ɞ , so i can assume you took time reading me and we won’t need to repeat stuff and can jump to the fun part (+ you let me know you’re capable of respecting real life boundaries/ safe words)

tag system

• #safeplace for kink unrelated stuff/ safe for work content

• #kinkeducation #outofcharacter for some meta thoughts (in process)

• i have the intention to map some of the most frequent kinks and interactions but still doing #askhurtsg #challengehsg (in process)

[tempestgnostic]

Cultivating Authenticity in the Community Garden

A whole world of possibility opened up for me years ago when I realized that alterhuman/nonhuman identity isn’t solely one experience. You don’t have to believe in past lives. You don’t need to go through shifts. If you don’t have a visual representation of your alt/non identity, that’s alright. Our experiences are broader than that, and we need to encourage others to understand and affirm this, so we can encourage authenticity and learn about different paths to this identity that still hold the core of what it means to be alt/non.

I believe conceptkin truly changed the game for our community in a profound way. Here we see folks who possess very strong and impactful connections to abstract concepts, to the extent that they are these concepts, just as I am the archetypal werewolf. I see little difference between our experiences in general. I don’t personally believe my identity comes from a past life, and I only have the fuzziest ideas about what I would look like if I could physically represent myself accurately. This isn’t uncommon in the broader alt/non community, but it seems to be an experience shared by many conceptkin in particular.

Archetropes are another excellent example. We’re constantly pushing the boundaries of what being alt/non is for us, in order to explain ourselves more accurately and hopefully pave the way for others to do the same. Our community thrives when we take the anthropological approach: we start from the assumption that others want to represent their beliefs and experiences honestly. We keep in mind the limitations of language, as well as the accepted norms of our community that often dissuade ‘fringe’ belief. The truth is that our experiences are fundamentally real and ultimately valuable to understanding who we are.

If we want to truly encourage authenticity in the alt/non community, we must cultivate a hungry curiosity. We must learn to parse out what is truth and what is trolling, but also to give that initial benefit of the doubt, however briefly. We must recognize that we don’t all speak the same language, nor do we all agree on which terms mean what, and many of us have only been exposed to bits and pieces of the whole. We all make mistakes that require prompt correction, but we should approach that correction with some level of grace. Community-wide understanding is not instantaneous—far from it. Our work must be painfully collaborative.

None of what I’m saying here is new or revolutionary, by any stretch. Our community has decades of history, kept alive and accessible by amazing community members who have dedicated an incredible amount of time and energy to doing so. I repeat these sentiments because they bear repeating. I’m a big fan of the “Holy shit! Two cakes!” philosophy, and if my perspective can offer something insightful, then I’m happy to share it. (Hell, I’ll share it anyways.)

I have been welcomed into this community with open arms (and open limbs and wings of all kinds). I’ve had the pleasure of meeting fellow community members offline, and discussing our alt/non identities in meatspace has been a joy that’s wholly indescribable. I’ve never felt so seen, so profoundly understood, and I consider it a fine blessing to have found my way here.

[catenary-chad]

I’ve made blanket statements about “rail freight is a profitable business and passenger service is usually a money pit” but there’s some pretty interesting nuance relevant to Stex that becomes more significant in Europe.  

Longer distance bulk freight is a profitable business.  It made up 80% of BR’s freight revenue and was its only profitable freight segment.  This is “trainload freight” that’s a long line of all the same thing (grain, oil, stone, etc).  A lot of longer distance bulk loads in continental Europe are handled by barge vs train.  

Car/Wagonload freight is unprofitable in Europe and low-profit in the US, and economically undesirable to large rail companies because of that.  The Freight (and Components!)  in Stex fit this since they’re a mixed group, though I think that was done because a line of identical characters would be boring.  

It has a much harder time competing with road transport because logistics of getting things in and out of rail yards and general clunkiness of rail freight makes it much more time-consuming over short distances.  Roads are also uncritically fully government funded and trucking companies pay low access fees to use them vs higher access fees on rails. In Europe it’s even more slanted towards roads with cheap trucking labor and antiquated buffer and chain couplings adding a ton of time/labor to adding/removing cars, these are finally planned to be phased out by 2030 to make rail freight more competitive.  

Passenger-freight prioritization is an issue pretty much worldwide, to different degrees and in different ways.  Yes, passenger trains do dominate the rails in most of Europe, yes they’re higher priority and cleaner/better maintained…. because they have live cargo with higher standards and even perishable goods don’t mind being an hour late, humans do!  There’s just a greater need to move large quantities of people (who handle the clunky transfer and last-mile moves themselves) and more benefit to getting a ton of small individual passenger vehicles off the roads vs a smaller number of trucks.  

It’s apples to oranges to compare coaches more in line with intercity/long distance luxury to carload/wagonload freight.  Intercity passenger trains can be profitable in a system where infrastructure maintenance costs aren’t considered.  But they’re better compared to longer-distance trainload freight in terms of being a faster direct train with fewer stops, which is financially sustainable even in fully private systems.  Regional and local passenger trains are a fairer comparison and those are far less profitable. The old US long distance luxury trains the coaches are visually based on were absolute money pits mainly run for PR reasons.  Belmond’s trains are probably their closest modern equivalents, and seem to be far more stable but ultimately they’re a niche luxury market vs essential service.   

Modernization is also the furthest thing from a threat to rail freight and if anything, notorious choo choo killers Dr. Richard Beeching and Al Perlman often have their major freight improvements looked over.  See also the buffer and chain coupler situation (I take psychic damage remembering that fact as an American).  It’s arguably more of an issue in Europe with the far smaller advantages of rail freight, any reduction in labor cost and turnaround time is VERY valuable.  Small freight lines in the US get away with some ridiculously antiquated equipment (Iowa Traction lol) but that’s an even weirder separate rabbit hole.  Electrification is an incredibly positive thing for rail freight since it allows a major increase in speeds, increasing capacity in congested non-electrified areas.  That’s mostly a factor in the UK though, since continental Europe is much more electrified and just struggles with lack of physical tracks (though this is also a UK problem and a main reason for HS2).  Battery and hydrogen power just aren’t energy dense enough to viable for freight usage and English-language media constantly undersells how absurdly OP electric trains are.  It’s not like electric cars, they are so much lighter and more powerful than combustion alternatives that they were desired for capacity/power reasons before global warming was even a thought.  

In short: passenger/freight just doesn’t make sense as a class thing and the comparison canon makes isn’t even a fair one.  It obscures the actual issues facing rail freight (lack of capacity and struggle to modernize).  I don’t even think the intercity vs carload combo was even picked for that deep of reasons, unit trains and lower-end passenger trains are just less fun and popular as toys and onstage characters. Mine trains and subways are an extreme example, they’re almost nonexistent as models despite being otherwise well-preserved and publicly recognized. 

Trucker Caboose is a timeless and international villain (and cabooses are very much still used on occasion, though I can’t speak for how recognizable they are internationally).  Weirdly enough this is a situation where steam engines would be a solid villain too, representing refusal to improve practices and infrastructure (one was used to protest this in Germany recently lol).  

Ironically, Greaseball is a far less effective villain in the context of European freight, American freight diesel locomotives like the EMD Class 66 were very positively received in Europe.  On the business end that is, they were physically unpleasant for actual employees. He’s almost a kind of crappy superhero- while relatively dirty, inefficient and “stupid” vs other diesel manufacturers, EMD engines are notoriously reliable and maintainable and even smaller models like the SD40 are very powerful by European standards.  Making him the “biggest and the strongest” makes more sense with him as something like a Class 66, though he would not be competitive speed wise (compared to a 50s-era EMD E9 that’s relatively weak but would be competitive on rugged, curvy tracks the Nationals couldn’t use their full speed on).   I think I get why Europeans seem to skew towards him being a less malicious himbo, that’s the actual role an American diesel engine would have there vs symbol of hegemony (see my Greaseball post on how he gets even worse than the workshop when played true to US reality)

[themiracleofteddybearmanifestos]

I know I'm late to the party but I just watched Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe and I have a LOT of thoughts.

I think this was a terrible adaptation.

I think it was a beautifully produced and well acted movie, and maybe without having read the book it would have been fine, but no matter how hard I tried I couldn't separate it from its source material because some of the changes were just horrible.

I know you can't keep everything in, that's fine. You cut some things, you rearrange some stuff, you fit within your runtime. But why change some of the most crucial/beautiful moments? I have a long, long list of quotes that were either removed or just horribly altered/misplaced and it's so disappointing.

Getting rid of Mrs. Quintana grasping Ari's face and saying, "Aristotle Mendoza, I will love you forever" is so sad. Changing what Gina said, that Ari says is the "nicest thing you ever said to me" to be something totally mundane (essentially changed "you got hunkier" to "you look different") is just an odd choice. But changing the way Ari reacts to kissing Dante? That's horrible.

Ari was done horribly in this movie, I'm sorry. The actor did great and he was lovely in certain moments, but they took out what made him shine. I have a friend who said they didn't like the book because Dante deserved so much better, and I disagreed. Book Ari has moments where he's an asshole, but at his core he is a kind and loving boy who is grateful and appreciative. Film Ari is a sometimes sweet boy who is more often than not just rude.

I can understand some changes have to be made when adapting a first person POV novel, that's fair, but you can absolutely use body language and other visual cues to give insight. This is especially clear with Ari's dad, who in the book is understandably difficult for Ari to get along with. He's distant and intimidating and doesn't want to be open. But in the movie he just seems like a sad dad trying his best to talk to his teenage son, and Ari is completely rude and cold to him for no apparent reason! Film Ari does not thank or hug his parents when they give him a car. Film Ari does not say goodnight to his father or listen when his father wants to show him a painting. Idk exactly how that all plays out in the book since I forget a lot, but the important thing is that all we are shown is his father trying and Ari being rude in response. His motivation is unclear and his behavior is selfish.

Now, one of the biggest crimes is what happens in the truck after Dante and Ari kiss. First off, change of location from Dante's room to the truck ... Okay sure. But I have no idea how you can first off, totally alter this scene and omit a very important quote:

"I don’t kiss boys.” “Okay, so the first rule is: No trying to kiss Ari.”

"You have the harder rule? Buffalo shit... I, on the other hand, have to refrain from kissing the greatest guy in the universe—which is like walking barefoot on hot coals." (Pgs 256-257)

And then completely and entirely warp this scene:

So I closed my eyes.

And he kissed me. And I kissed him back.

And then he started really kissing me. And I pulled away.

"Well?" he said.

"Didn't work for me," I said.

"Nothing?"

"Nope."

"Okay. It sure worked for me."

"Yeah. I think I get that, Dante."

"So, well, that's over with then, huh?"

"Yeah."

"Are you mad at me?"

"A little."

He sat back down on his bed. He looked sad. I didn't like seeing him that way. "I'm more mad at myself," I said. "I always let you talk me into things. It's not your fault."

"Yeah," he whispered.

"Don't cry, okay?"

"Okay," he said.

"You're crying."

"I'm not."

"Okay."

"Okay." (Pgs. 263-264)

HOW do you turn that into Ari calling Dante disgusting and screaming at him to get the fuck out of his car??? That's the fucking breaking point for me, because Ari is a lot of things, but an outright aggressive homophobe is not one of them. Maybe I'm forgetting, and maybe something similar happens later and they just rearranged it. But I know for a FACT that Ari NEVER calls Dante disgusting. Never. Because the word disgusting appears once in this book and Gina says it to Ari. That's it, not a single other usage.

That's what broke it for me, even though I had a lot of issues with other parts (Ari not saying thank you about the truck, removing the shoe-throwing game, getting rid of so much important dialogue, etc.) THIS is the thing that was unacceptable because even when Ari was mad at Dante, he didn't hurt him. He didn't immediately go back on his loyalty he'd just sworn, to stay by Dante even though he's gay. He didn't scream at him or curse him.

But I also just couldn't stand how much of the beautiful writing was completely removed. I love that book because it's poetic and full of quips and oddities. Dante in the movie is cute and sweet, but the oddest thing shown about him is that he wears silly sunglasses. We're told he's weird, and get little glimpse of it, but the heart of Dante is not there. In the book he feels a little mystified and hard to fully grasp, but in the movie he's just... There. A shell, almost. He's still lovable, but he's not wholly Dante. It's like an afterimage of Dante, which is impressive because he was very personable in the movie, but that just shows how enchanting Dante is in the book. He's hard to pin down, but he's not hollow. I think a big issue was that a lot of the time, Dante seemed hurt by Ari. Genuinely disheartened, rather than laughing it off until he couldn't anymore, he was kind of just sad? I don't know. We had the bones of something beautiful with this movie, really, but they just didn't do it right.

Again, the loss of the poeticism and the changes to Ari are what hurt it the most. Movie Ari has very sweet moments where the book character shines through, but he takes himself too seriously in a way where it feels like we're supposed to as well. Ari is lame! He's an awkward teenager with a lot of angst because he's figuring things out and struggling to find his place in the universe, but movie Ari isn't that at all. He's just brooding and downright mean at times. His reactions to the things around him were so hollow and uncaring, and maybe that's how he looked from the outside, but again, this story was not told from the outside and completely loses it's effect when you can't tell what he's feeling or thinking because he just seems mad or disinterested. Not all the time, there were some incredible scenes. I loved him talking with his parents after he beat up Julian. I loved the final scene with the kiss. I think his reaction worked well when hearing about his aunt's girlfriend. But damnit that was lost to me the moment he called the most brilliant boy he'd ever met "disgusting."

Overall, I don't regret watching the movie and I loved some of the scenes and think the music and atmosphere were great. But I'm heartbroken over the fact that so much of the nuance was completely lost. Even if there was some nuance present in the movie, it was far, far less than in the book.

(Less structured bonus points because this rant was messy enough but I have more to say): Dante told him not to open the sketchbook until he was gone. In the movie Ari opened it right up and made a kind of rude comment. Next: so many important bonding moments were removed. Dante giving Ari a sponge bath and them visiting with each other every day Ari was in the hospital. The shoes were significantly played down to the point where the sentimentality of the little shoes was almost lost. Also: The letters were so entirely diminished. And: Ari's brother killed two people, not just the trans woman but also someone in jail. Bro I haven't read this book in multiple years and I'm able to recount this much, I don't even want to think about how glaringly off it all is when I've read the whole book to compare. (If any of my points were wrong, I blame this. But I'm pretty sure most of them are right.)

I loved the end of the movie tho lol I'm always a sucker for a sweet scene and Dante's actor killed it with the eye acting in that scene, the emotions were palpable.

[diodellet]

relationships: first semester edition

first impressions, icks, and all that fun stuff

Notes:

By ‘first semester’ I’m loosely estimating the time around the events of Books 1-3 (but hng there are some plot points I wanna ignore. For the vibes)

Mentions of misogyny, bullying, physical violence but it doesn’t go into heavy detail (I’m just a humanities major tryna condense these interactions into 100-200ish words.)

Getting this outta the way, yes, everyone can (or will) clock that she has a crush on Jamil. While it is entertaining in the same way reality TV/a car crash is, most of them find it pitiful.

This post ended up so long, I'm so sorry 🙇‍♂️(not sorry for giving my girl Lou all these challenges😤)

Heartslabyul

Riddle Rosehearts

Lou was already scared from hearing secondhand information (thanks Ace🙄but this is what her chismosa-nature gets her) about how Riddle was being a tyrant in Heartslabyul. But after meeting him for realsies, she got a liiiiil irked about how uptight he was with rules, (“‘Rules are good for keeping order’? What kind of order? Hierarchical order??”)

At first, Riddle thought she’d have a good head on her shoulders. He was wrong, but thankfully they don’t interact that much to butt heads often. During the occasional joint class, he finds that she’s just as lackadaisical as some NRC students but at least she’s willing to defer listen to her upperclassmen. (Though, her coarse language is very very grating to him. He doesn’t know that she likes to break the rules of formal English every day. Not yet, at least.)

Trey Clover

Lou was glad to see that there was a reliable older brother figure in Heartslabyul to balance out Riddle’s—uh….(flips through dictionary for nice words)—neurotic side. (Before properly meeting any of the dorms, she initially visualized NRC as a kinda big frat party kinda thing, but that’s her overdramatizing her situation.) Those first few weeks of adjusting to living at the Ramshackle dormitory though, made her embarrassed by how much of his baking she was smuggling during her first Unbirthday party visits. 

Trey doesn’t really see her around unless she’s hanging out with Ace and Deuce. For all his worrying, he liked that she balances out the 1-A trio dynamic, that eased his worries a little bit. Until he realized that she has a cheeky side like Ace. Truly he wasn’t gonna be given much of a break from playing the sensible upperclassman. 

Cater Diamond

Extravert warning of the microinfluencer variety. (Back in her homeworld, Lou has met a few of those and she did not have good experiences with them). But on the bright side, after going through the ordeals of Riddle’s Overblot together, she eventually warms up to Cater, not quite clocking that he has an introverted-ish side, but more of her realizing that she was judging him for being a stereotype and that she should make an effort to see past that 😇(Soon, she shall work up the courage to ask him for guitar-playing tips, esp for fingerstyle).

Immediately notices there’s something wrong with this girl. Nah, not really, but when Cater’s combing through his Unbirthday Party pics before uploading the best onto Magicam, he notices that Lou’s…resting expression? has something off about it. It’s uncomfy in the way that one looks at oneself in the mirror. But since they both reflexively distance themselves from people, it’ll take a bit of a while before they get to have those uncomfy-but-needed conversations as senpai-kouhai.

Ace Trappola

Did not like him on first meeting, but there truly is nothing like the bonds of friendship forged from the fires of adversity. Lou does appreciate that Ace has the courage to speak up against shitty/unjust situations (though she won’t vocalize that she’s on his side, much to his chagrin). She also strongly envies anyone with slight math proficiency, but still has a bit too much pride to ask him upfront for help. (So whenever Deuce asks, she’s sliding into the conversation nonchalantly.)

At first Ace thought she was a goody two shoes like Deuce. But he didn't expect her to sympathize with his grievances towards Riddle’s rigidity. Much less, her lil cheeky spontaneous side. (But he does have slight beef with how she pretends to be innocent unless she really gets caught red-handed). He has tried confronting her about her slight two-faced moments, but that conversation just kept going in circles so, it’ll have to come up at another more inconvenient time.

Deuce Spade

Thank you Deuce for voicing the questions that Lou’s too shy to (It will take her a bit of a while to actually vocalize the things she’s grateful for to the 1-A trio, mayhaps post-Book 6?) But she did laugh out loud when he thought chickens came from store-bought eggs. She does feel bad about using him like a human shield when she feels a physical confrontation about to happen, but she doesn’t stop doing it until the events of Book 3. Seeing her “kinda-first friends” being subjected to the Octatrio’s shenanigans pushed her into doing something brave. And stupid, like using Ramshackle as collateral. She sometimes gets the urge to try coloring her hair so she fits in a bit better at the magical anime boys school, but isn’t sure if Deuce would be willing to try bleaching her hair.

It takes a while before Deuce realizes that she has a two-faced side. (And it does cause a small rift in their friendship when some more issues come to light). But other than that, they have a sort of reputation as those struggling academically, it’s a bit of an inside joke between them.

Savanaclaw

Leona Kingscholar

Lou actually drops her facade around him, that threat about yanking out her teeth sounds serious. Doesn't call him 'kuya' (big brother) like she does with the other upperclassmen, jumps straight into calling him 'ninong' (uncle), especially after meeting Cheka. Is way more reserved around him, but more upfront about her feelings compared to the rest of the twst charas. 

Immediately notices there is something wrong with this girl, or rather hears it? Leona finds that she's actually quite vitriolic compared to the “friendly” first impression she made at the Opening Ceremony, which doesn't surprise him. In that sense, she fits right in at NRC. Tbh, he susses out the rest of her general personality just from playing chess with her during the events of Book 3. She loves moving her knights, but loses steam through the middle and end game. Chess veterans, u tell me what that says about her lmao.

Ruggie Bucchi

Lou is so happy to find someone willing to split meals with her. (There’s nowhere else to go for this relationship to go but up, esp after the events of Book 4 JK SIKE—) So imagine her betrayal when it comes to light that he was one of the major culprits behind the accidents during the Interdorm tournament. She already noticed that he has a scheme-y side to him, but when she thinks about how [redacted for irrelevance], she realizes that she isn’t really losing much when she’s letting herself get played for a fool.

Damn, this girl is pathetic - Wait, she has leftovers? Ruggie kinda reevaluates that initial brush-off of her because of how often she shares food with him. At some point, he kiiinda gets hit in the conscience by seeing how skinny she is and how little she eats during meals. But like, he can't stand wasting food. (Unwillingly, he kind of takes it on himself to teach her little life hacks for living on her own. Unbeknownst to her, he snatches just a lil bit from her wallet in addition to the leftovers she gifts him. For some just payment.)

Jack Howl

Damn, this girl is kinda pathetic, she needs to work hard and improve herself. (Jack! She has undiagnosed mental illness, you can't just say that!) Because of Book 3, he gets a front seat to her two-facedness which rubs him the wrong way, but she does seem to be doing it for her friends, so he can’t argue against that. (It doesn’t stop him from sermoning/doting on her like he would for his younger siblings.) Going into headcanon territory here, but I like to think that Jack and his fam are Fil-Can, so he understands a bit of her Tagalog (which makes her feel a little less homesick), though she uses so much slang, he sometimes can’t keep up.

Lou also didn’t like Jack on first meeting. She gets irked by moralistic types of people, but she grows a grudging sense of respect for Jack after Book 3. (Doesn’t stop her from always using him as a shield whenever there’s an intimidating person nearby.) On second thought, she does feel a biiit guilty that he genuinely gives her solutions when she vents aloud (even if it’s mostly for the drama), so she tries not to do it within earshot.

Octavinelle

Azul Ashengrotto

At first Lou was kinda unimpressed with his whole merchant schtick. (“Can you recreate my lola’s sinigang recipe? No? *intensely disappointed face* Oh… that’s alright, I’m fine now.”) Girlie was gambling on the fact that they had 200 anemones to look after and that they had nothing to offer each other to fly under his radar. Hates these types of “give an inch, they’ll take a mile” people. In spite of the thalassophobia trauma she received, one good thing came from Azul’s Overblot and that was getting to hound him with extra bureaucracy shit.

This girl is two-faced, has ulterior motives and is pretending to be dumb, someone PLEASE confirm what Azul’s seeing. Forms a tentative partnership with her, since she comes across as innocent and well-meaning to a sizable amount of people (compared to the three of ‘em in Octavinelle, who are on the more intimidating side), so at least he managed to find a use out of her! Does he sympathize with her as they were both bullying victims…? lmao no. It gives him a slight sense of catharsis to be mean to her.

Floyd Leech

Oh no, her thalassophobia grew a pair of legs. Lou was already tuning out the giant glass wall of the Mostro Lounge, what do you mean she caught the attention of the Leech twins? It’s hard to put on a boring facade when they have the audacity to just pick her up and squeeze her. (Ironically, it’s her being bothered by the tweels staved off most other NRC students’ attempts to bully her because like… that’s just sad.)

Calls her Triggerfish, also clocks her two-facedness but he finds Azul’s frustration towards her funny. Floyd likes that she’s high strung. Initially found her screaming and thrashing entertaining (“Wow, look at her lungs go”) though he might get bored of it at some point. But considering the shit that will happen in Book 4, that’s not gonna happen any time soon. 

Jade Leech

Oh no, her thalassophobia has a twin. She also made the mistake of thinking that Jade was the easier twin to negotiate with (as she tends to misjudge the vice housewardens 😔 This will not be the last time this happens.) Absolutely cannot get a read on this guy, and just always braces for the worst if she ever gets approached. That changes when he offers a smidge of the gossip he knows about, suddenly she’s willing to bear with the shenanigans and ordeals.

Also likes that she’s high strung. “Yes, Floyd, look at her lungs go” pt. 2 Electric Boogaloo. Imagine his joy when Jade found out that she also likes wordplay and puns, tried recruiting her into the Mountain Lovers’ club but she's so adamant on saying "no" 😔 (When she was looking for an arts club to join, mans really thought he could be the one out of the Octatrio to be able to get her to agree to something wholeheartedly.)

Scarabia

Kalim al-Asim

Lou gets so tired hanging out with him. But genuinely does get disarmed by how goodhearted he is, to the point that she'd talk about her pre-isekai life. Though that kind of changes during the Scarabia arc proper, upon hearing more about his family life she [redacted for irrelevance] and distances herself. Until the VDC happens /shrug

She's so shy :( but she seems fun! Kalim mistakenly thinks that she needs to be coaxed out of her shell with a good enough party (U sweet summer child, that will do the opposite). Is one of the people supplying her with too much leftovers, he doesn't know that Ruggie has to step in until like a bit later down the school year. It takes a bit for him to acknowledge that she’s two-faced, he just thinks that she also needs a bit of encouragement to speak up more (which is kinda true).

Jamil Viper

Lou’s idea of dealing with a crush in a face-to-face situation is to pretend that it is not there at all. (“Whomil Viper? I don’t even know her.”) It doesn’t help that she blushes easily. This sucks for her specifically. That aside, she tries really hard to make herself scarce when Jamil’s in the same room (though it’s hard to when she keeps glancing over at him) because she can intuit that he’s probably one minor inconvenience away from exploding out of stress. It’s an effect of living in a household where [redacted for length and relevance].

Doesn’t have that many strong opinions on first years, Jamil can easily play the role of a helpful upperclassman. There is something up with this girl, but Jamil notices retroactively that she is surprisingly good at saying little about herself? (Tho it is amusing to see how jumpy she is around him, a little ego boost for the day or sumn. He could probably use this for his little plan during the winter break, who knows /shrug).

Pomefiore

Vil Schoenheit

(Call Me Mother by RuPaul starts playing) Lou usually swaps between ‘ate’ (big sister) and ‘kuya’ when referring to him. As a general reaction to most Pomefiore (and Diasomnia students), she’s a little starstruck watching them from afar. Until she sees how haughty some of them are. Though in Vil’s case, she kind of bears with his harsh, critical nature. She might be the least cautious? around him compared to the other housewardens, because in her mind, everything she does will annoy him. (And it eases her homesickness in a weird, twisted way). There’s little she can do to salvage her image in front of him, so there’s no way it can get worse (cue VDC arc looming in the distance.)

The lost potential in this girl will give Vil an aneurysm. She ditched her audition for the Film Studies Club, she rarely ever wears her uniform properly, she’s probably running on fumes for most days of the week. There’s a lot to glean about her just from how she presents herself, and it is an eyesore. 

Epel Felmier

There is something off about this innocent-looking guy, but Lou can’t put her finger on it. Until she saw Epel when he’s not under Vil’s watchful eye. She realized once again that she had misjudged him as a stereotype, and that she should strive to see past that. She tries her best to be civil.

Epel has heard about the hijinks she and the other 1-A peeps have gotten up to. The chandelier incident, the magestone finding, and managing to avoid expulsion by the skin of their teeth. And that sounded so cool to him, until he saw how shy and withdrawn she was in person, thus reared up his internalized misogyny. (They could have ended up in a scuffle but they’re 2 petite people tryna throw hands. He’s the first person to get her to full-on drop her people-pleaser attitude though, if that’s anything of note.)

Rook Hunt

Lou tries so hard not to judge the outwardly eccentric people. And then she finds out he’s a fervent patron of the arts (++he also knows some juicy gossip). If she weren’t so shy, he’d probably be the third year that she’d approach the most. 

(Tbh, I couldn’t think of a nickname he’d give her, we’ll cross that bridge when we get there 🤧) Like Vil, he also laments her lost potential (Whatever that is, Lou isn’t willing to hear it). He has tried to get her to join the Science Club, but she respectfully declined his offer (read: ghosted him after his long-winded spiel).

Ignihyde

Idia Shroud

Theoretically, they are the most similar in terms of disposition and interests but realistically, having them in the same room is like mixing oil and water. Lou felt like looking into a mirror when she met him in person for the first time. And she did not like him at all. She’s glad that he’s hardly ever on campus.

Idia sees how much of a people-pleaser she is, and he’s all “extravert /derogatory—wait, she likes anime and video games too? …Oh, she has normie taste…” (Cue Lou throwing that line back in his face after he goes on a Premo tangent). They could have ended up in a physical scuffle, but it’s very easy to stop 2 sedentary nerds from throwing hands, so all’s good 😇 (The relationship will worsen by Book 6).

Ortho Shroud

A walking Google…no, he’s a walking CCTV. Lou tries not to interact with him too much, especially after coming to that realization. As much as she really wants to spend a whole afternoon just asking questions about Twisted Wonderland and stuff, he sometimes sets off her hypochondriac-isms. (In an ideal world, she believes she could parse together his jargon-filled responses.)

With all of his technomantic enhancements, Ortho notices very quickly that there is something wrong with this girl, just from scanning her biometrics. But he gets a little frustrated at how she’s willing to brush off his worrying (the similarities between her and Idia are never ending 😤)

Diasomnia

Malleus Draconia

Assuming she meets him after learning about the different types of non-humans in Twisted Wonderland, Lou is hellbent on making sure never to set off Malleus. (So imagine her confusion during Book 2, hearing that he might be injured? Like…how 🤔 He’s got guards with him…and he has lots of magic…how would a student be able to cause an accident?) She’s not fine with knowing that he likes to roam around Ramshackle, but she’ll turn away and claim deniability at seeing him there. It’s like ignoring ghosts🤧

She faces him with the same fear that most people do, and that doesn’t really paint a favorable impression with Malleus. In the end, she’s not that memorable a face for him.

Lilia Vanrouge

Lou probably first saw him when the Pop Music Club was tryna recruit new members. Actually doesn’t mind that he sings screamo style, if the music’s hard enough Lou can vibe with it. But also, seeing that there were only 3 of them in the club was enough of a sign for her to sign-up elsewhere. Out of all the Diasomnia people, she can hold a conversation with Lilia.

Lilia is a tad bit concerned for her, but in the way that he gets concerned over the young'uns of today. If they were closer, he’d definitely invite her over whenever he gets to cook. He does notice that she has a bit of an abrasive relationship with Sebek, but he’s not too worried about it, it’s good that he’s friends with someone who’s willing to voice their opinions.

Silver

A little starstruck meeting him. But also Lou doesn’t want to wait for the other shoe to drop. She keeps her distance. Especially after seeing how imposing they were during the showdown in Book 2. (It’ll take until Book 7 for their relationship to have any meaningful developments).

Silver doesn’t have any strong opinions on her. She seems nice, they’ve had civil conversations. Though he finds it a bit offputting at how she’s envious of how much sleep he gets… like girl, please stop hyping up his narcolepsy, it’s not fun being at the whims of the urge to sleep. (Then again, it takes him a bit to piece together that she’s an insomniac).

Sebek Zigvolt

Also a little starstruck meeting him for the first time. Then he opened his mouth and Lou remembered that she does not like condescending people. Which sucks, because he’s also an appreciator of the arts and they could have meaningful discussions, except they usually end up one step away from full-on verbal arguments (he’s one of the few who unintentionally gets her to drop her people-pleaser facade, if that’s anything to note.)

Another human who refuses to know their place, it is a travesty to see such behavior in Night Raven College, Sebek laments. (It will also take a while for their relationship to have any meaningful developments.) While she has her passable moments, especially in front of their upperclassmen, he also overhears her little snarky comments. It annoys him and he will sermon her, even though it gets them both told off by the professor.

tl;dr: maybe i put too much thought into this (and i will probably do this again when i get the spoons to talk about books 4-6. book 7 will deffo be its own beast lmao) but i think this pretty much sums up how i'll be characterizing lou and her interactions with the cast when i decide to post some drabbles. its great that there are ppl observant enough to see that girlie has Issues™

tagging @viperwhispered @crystallizsch @twstgo

[mojo-bro-tho]

Blood Sugar… Ch. 3

~ Fun fact, the title for this chapter was actually inspired partially by Rhapsody In Blue, specifically the New York Philharmonic performance with Leonard Bernstein. So there’s a lot of tone shifting in this chapter. Also! Permission to get a little fucky with the canon? Just a little? It’s an AU, I’m trying to have fun. This is another instance where I simply must credit another fic for giving me an idea for this. I don’t know if they were the first person to have this take on Manfred but I adored it so I’ll link it, it’s called Amaretto Sour by Farore on AO3. I care for it deeply!~

Tags: @my-queen-rhaenyra-targaryen (let me know if you’d like to be added or removed)

Word count: 7.5k (idk what happened, don’t ask)

Content warnings for this chapter: Suggestive Language, unwanted flirtation

AO3 link here!

Previous!

Rhapsody In Blue-Raspberry

Silence had surrounded the car for quite some time. The only traces of existence Emmrich could pick up on was the hum of the engine, the suppressed force of wind gliding over the body’s painted black exterior, and Manfred, who was intently tapping the toes and heels of his shoes together in a repeated pattern. Emmrich’s nerves had been shot the whole day, the false bravado he had felt this morning was gone before lunch. And the unknown of what truly awaited him once his son was dropped off made his stomach lurch. Luckily for him, Manfred was far more amused by whatever game he had seamlessly found himself in. That was the case, until a few moments later where the digitally smooth voice rose at his behest.

“You aren’t playing music.” The tablet said with a lack of tone. Emmrich looked up into the rearview mirror, spotting the boy staring at him with his usual abundance of expression. [[ Why? ]] He signed with brows knitted together in confusion. As they came to a stop sign, Emmrich looked back into the backseat fully so Manfred could see him.

[[ I forgot. ]] He responded honestly with a shrug of his shoulders. The man turned back to continue their drive. Signing would be easier once Manfred was old enough to sit in the passenger's seat, better for clarity.

“Don’t forget to play it on the way home.” The familiar voice said after the handful of seconds it took for his son to type it. Emmrich flashed a thumbs up, and another bout of silence came before Manfred continued. “Thanks, dad.”

Children were rather observant creatures, they picked up on things many would neglect contemplating to begin with. Manfred was no exception to this. Even if he didn’t make his concerns clear, the boy could tell something was on his father’s mind. Emmrich didn’t forget to play music very often. After all, Manfred enjoyed the sensation of the speakers. So he usually made a point about playing the music for both of them.

A few minutes later, the car turned onto Hollow Road, coming to a stop before what was dubbed as The Belfry. A large historical estate that at one point in time was the home to some of Nevarra’s middle ranked nobility. Now, it was put to much better use, not simply existing to inflate the market of the area by virtue of its visuals. HOAs would never make sense to Emmrich because of their proclivity for overt classism.

The Belfry was grande in the literal sense. Expansive and roughly as old as his own University, which was evident in the way they were designed so similarly. Tall, cool toned columns clung to the stony walls alongside well nurtured weavings of Ivy. Grey was broken up by a soft shade of sage green that painted a majority of the walls. Waterfalling steps that led to a large set of wooden doors. The flat plain of the lawn was decorated lovingly with various games and play equipment but Emmrich knew most of the activities were in the backyard.

As usual, Emmrich and Manfred were slightly early and his son slipped his tablet back into his bag because he was used to the routine by now. Emmrich was out of the car first because despite Manfred didn’t require a booster seat anymore, the boy knew to always wait for his father to open the car door for him. He took his son’s hand and helped him out of the car which was hardly necessary as the rambunctious lad leapt straight down every time. Once the two were safely on the sidewalk, Manfred spun around to sign to Emmrich.

[[ Harm has soccer today, I left her book at home on purpose! ]] Enunciated by a stern nod and an exclamatory gesture with his shoulders. Emmrich narrowed his eyes.

[[ Very good, Manfred. But you should spell her full name if you don’t use the one you gave her. Someone might think you meant that hurt has soccer. ]] The correction made Manfred take in a sharp breath through the nose.

[[ H-a-r-m-o-n-y. ]] He spelled firmly with a purposely ill disguised eye roll.

[[ Thank you! ]] Emmrich smiled widely. [[ Will Sunny be here today? ]]

[[ Yeah! We’re playing dragons! ]] Manfred excitedly bared his teeth, making Emmrich chuckle.

[[ Wonderful! ]] He beamed in response. [[ I promise not to forget the music on the way home. ]] Manfred gave an appreciative swivel of his head. [[ I love you.]]

[[ I love you! ]] His son replied, splitting a grin and giving his father a hug around the legs before taking off in a sprint into the lawn.

Emmrich spotted Myrna at her usual spot on the porch while awaiting the drop offs, Vorgoth was always in the backyard waiting. Usually, Emmrich would chat with her for a few minutes but he was in an uncharacteristic rush. Which Myrna herself would likely attribute to some discomfort over their discussions over Miss Ingellvar these past few days. So they shared a quick wave before entering his car again and making his way back to Blackthorn.

Now that he was fully alone, the anxiety could worm up from his collarbone, through his sternocleidomastoid, to nestle around the back of his neck. This morning had been a miracle in the sense that he hadn’t entirely made a fool of himself. If he did, Rook had taken it in stride. The nature of anxiety meant that the more he lingered on it, the worse it became. First he has to go through the embarrassment of not recognizing her, then the refreshments fiasco, and then finally with asking her to meet with him later that day.

What Rook had suggested was entirely reasonable. Minimize to two days a week for the time being, she was being incredibly considerate! But admittedly, there was a sting of pride there. Old, petty wounds from the lashings of schoolmates in his youth. Most of which had never had to work a day in their lives and had parents who could pay for their entire tuition without batting an eye.

He could afford the sessions, especially if he arranged everything correctly. But Rook was right, it would be a hit on his savings. A worthy one so long as they succeeded in this ruse. It was still mind boggling that he was really doing this, his rings dully thumped against the steering wheel punctuated that fact. And Rook was proving to be one of the more unexpected twists. Making assumptions wasn’t something he got in the habit of, people like her were the reason why. And every time the anxiety began to rear its toothsome head, Emmrich would think back to how reassuring she had been. Full of honeyed smiles and saccharine eyes. She was the expert in her own capabilities, so long as she was sure of the arrangement was doable then he ought to trust her.

Before he knew it, his rampant thoughts had carried him to his destination and the intimidating covering of the sun as he turned into the rarely used side parking lot. Emmrich took one last deep breath to set his nerves. His satchel was pulled into his hand from the passenger’s seat and he was stepping out of the car without any further delay. Check the time again. 4:22pm. Good, he was early this time. A few more people dabbled the area compared to this morning, but nothing too overwhelming. No one he recognized from work.

As Emmrich rounded the corner, he caught sight of the familiar attire that previously alluded him. He was still some ways off, but a small difference he noticed was the absence of her cap. Now her hair was down aside from the sides being brought up and tied up into a small tuft at the peak of her skull. The bigger change had nothing to do with her appearance and rather the fact that she was chatting to quite a few individuals. Three to be exact.

Probably friends of hers, no? Emmrich thought it would be rude to interrupt. But it was so close to their appointment time. Surely there’d be no issue with him simply making his presence known, right? Subtlety. Just be casual, no need to work too hard to get her attention. He continued his approach with a relaxed stride and as he got closer he was able to make out more details.

Rook was standing by the stone railing, slightly leaning over its edge, that cradled either side of the pathway stairs. Geometric shapes carved into its surface and weathered with time. She was slightly elevated, her right boot planted firmly on the first step with her left leg boredly dangled off the edge. With her back facing Emmrich, he couldn’t discern her features. But the three young men standing behind the railing were smiling and jeering something to each other.

“Come on, can’t even get your phone number?” One asked with comical disappointment.

“I don’t talk to people who can’t pay their own phone bills.” Rook snipped in response, though it sounded like a spoonful of sugar taken after cough medicine.

Late teens, hanging out near a library to ride skateboards together, could be in college or waiting for a friend who is. The boards themselves were older while the phone the blond one held out was a very recent model, and all of them had nice shoes. Still early in the year, someone else was paying for their things. Parents. Could still be living at home. It was easy math.

“Does the name Damas sound familiar to you? Or Elek?” She asked, shifting the candy stick in her mouth. The three looked at each other with bewildered expressions.

“Why? You one of his girls?” Another one responded. There it was.

“No but the fact that you obviously do know him proves my point. I can practically smell the fake IDs hiding under your cheap layers of body spray. Not interested.” Rook was starting to get annoyed, never liking to repeat herself. Can’t a woman just exist for five seconds?

“Hey, you aren’t that much older than us.” The boy in the middle argued.

“Alright, let me break something down for you here.” She bit down harder on the stick, trying to suppress a groan. “How old are all of you? 19, maybe 20? Three just barely not teenagers all flirt on one woman at the same time, not a great start. You might have had a better chance of scoring if you didn’t act like a package deal, I would say most people find that off putting. So, I’m going to say this a little less gently this time…” Rook’s voice lowered, inching closer to the three which made her back arch. “Fuck off.”

The candied tone of her voice melted into something almost poisonous by the end of her explanation. But either the young men didn’t seem to pick up on the obvious malice or it only spurred them on further. A shared look was passed between them, as though a challenge for her attention had just formed.

“Well, you don’t have to give all of us your number. Maybe just me.” The middle one hummed again.

Emmrich was close enough at this point to hear the pop sound of her sucker leaving her mouth. These three were clearly not acquainted with Rook like he originally assumed. Inadvertently, he mimicked her base stance and placed one foot on the step not far behind her. The three young men locked eyes on Emmrich, who shot them a disapproving glance.

“Is there a problem here?” He asked. Rook’s shoulders stiffened upon hearing him. She glanced over her shoulder, quickly evaluating. And Emmrich caught the beginnings of that now familiar, devious grin forming on her face.

“Hey there, Sweets. You’ve kept me waiting again.” She said smoothly, dipping into the tone she used on him first in The Lighthouse.

Sweets? Was that supposed to be him? Rook leaned back, keeping her hands stern and curled around the railing’s edge. The leg that hung off the edge of the step encroached. A slip of pressure met the inner side of his left calf and made Emmrich’s gaze flick down. Rook’s boot disappeared from sight between his legs but its weight was very much perceived. She pushed herself a little further back, knee bending and slinking up the inseam of his slacks. With the twist of her ankle, the side of Rook’s boot fit itself tenderly against his lower back, giving a forceful push. Almost dance like in the fluidity in which she orchestrated it.

Emmrich’s half stance on the step became off center for a moment before stabilizing thanks to Rook’s leg pinning him into her. That and a reactionary hand that landed flat against the curve in her spine. She pressed more firmly, Emmrich’s lower half pushed snuggly into the rounding of Rook’s backside. His heart stopped. The position was far too recognizable, and that was largely why he stilled himself against her. Feeling peaks of smooth skin, cooled from the air, between the gaps in her fishnets. It was all only made worse by Rook nestling into him.

The candy was brought back to her lips, rattling against her teeth. The surprise of having been pressed into her faded enough to give Emmrich some clarity. It wasn’t difficult to figure out what she was doing. Fine, he could play along.

“Forgive me, Dearest. I was held up with a project.” He loomed above Rook’s frame, voice lowering into her ear. “I trust you’ve been well today, yes?”

“I was until a couple minutes ago. But everything is fine now.” She hummed. That smell, confectioner’s interpretation of berries was heaviest this close to her neck and hair.

The presence of her boot mercifully left him and she straightened her posture to abandon her place against the railing. Three young men shared glances once again, this time filled with palpable confusion. Rook spun on her one planted heel and the hand on her back naturally found a place on her waist. Now that she wasn’t looking at the young men, her eyes carried an appreciative expression. Good, Emmrich was playing the role she was needing.

“I’m happy to hear that.” His fingers splayed, as though comfortable and used to being there, some knitting between the threads of her fishnets. But the thumb kept a light touch on her belly. Rook noted that as possibly being one of his tells. “I’ve missed you terribly today, Darling. If you’re finished chatting, I’d like to hurry along. We have a few more stops to make after this, but I would prefer we get home as soon as possible.”

“You just read my mind, Sweetheart.” Her voice carried that tone again, laced with salacious intent and flirting that didn’t reach her expression. Rook moved around him, naturally finding a place tucked into his side so that he wouldn’t need to move his hand away. Her own came up to delicately clutch a fistful of his sweater. Emmrich’s gaze traveled back to the clearly uncomfortable young men.

“You gentlemen have a good day now.” Was the last thing he said to them before making his way up the steps with Rook in tow. The warmth of her skin was beginning to increase against his palm. And the fact that his rings didn’t press too heavily into her did not go unnoticed either. Once they were halfway up the path, Rook lowered her voice into a whisper meant just for him.

“Sorry about that, Emmrich. Promise I won’t make a habit of turning you into a prop.” She muttered, placing the candy back in her mouth again. “But some people just cannot take a hint, or a direct no. Sometimes it’s faster to make them think you ‘belong’ to someone else. It’s irritating.”

“It was no trouble, Miss Rook.”

“You’re really good about that, by the way. Nearly had me half convinced you were itching to jump my bones! I’m impressed.” She said in her preferred teasing manner.

“Yes, well, would it surprise you to know that I’m no stranger to this tactic?”

That was incredibly true on his part. Emmrich was well accustomed to being a ‘trophy piece’ so to speak. Before Myrna met Vorgoth, both before and after his and Strife’s short lived relationship, he even did this for Johanna a few times. Though, that was back during their school days when she hadn’t earned the reputation yet. The infamous ‘Never Cross Hezzankos’ and her penchant for making unwanted suitors either cry or wet themselves. Sometimes both. Truly, Emmrich pretending to be a lover did them all a favor.

“Still, have to give credit where credit is due. Sorry about your pants too, I hope I didn’t kick dirt up on them.” She apologized again. He did let himself chuckle at that, she’d have no real idea why that was so funny to him.

“Trust me, I’m not worried about a spot of dirt.” As they approached the entrance, the pair naturally separated from one another. Emmrich held the door open for her, and then followed close behind. “I care much more about your safety. Of course, I’m sure you’re plenty capable of caring for yourself but if you should ever require my assistance in such matters again, you need only act the part.”

The last breeze of the door closing behind them licked up the spot where his hand had previously been, sending an unexpected shiver up her spine. That was a… generous offer to make. Then again, if the plan was for them to be interacting this much over the course of the upcoming months it made more sense. There might even be times where they need to be out in public outside of his scheduled events. And frankly, Rook didn’t think she could pull off acting as his ‘daughter’, didn’t even want to humor the thought out loud. The boys outside probably assumed Emmrich was her Sugar Daddy, not unbelievable.

“That’s very kind of you, Emmrich. Hopefully I won’t need it though, right?” She kept her voice in a hush now that they were in the library proper. Some of the lingering unease made her want to try and keep the conversation light. “Speaking of, what was that you called me? ‘Darling’? ‘Dearest’? Really pulling out the stops for little ol’ me.”

“Says the one who called me ‘Sweets’. That was a new one.” Emmrich admitted. He did find it rather endearing though.

“And you should feel oh so lucky for that, Professor! Normally you’d have to pay 100 Kings to get a pet name out of me.”

Emmrich took up as the guide, already well acquainted with the facility. It gave Rook the chance to try and commit the layout to memory. Stone on near black wood, lighting fixtures purposefully designed to mimic scones, patches of wine red carpeting. The entire place made her feel odd, something about the drama of it was familiar. It didn’t look Antivan, but libraries there held a similar ornate quality. A pang of homesickness. If she could even call it that.

“Money well spent, I’m sure.” He mused.

In games of tit-for-tat, Emmrich was better than most people would anticipate. Perhaps it was just the left over traces of the act they had put on, but it had been awhile since anyone had played along with him like Rook could. Chalk full of what excited him, all wit and mischief. He didn’t get to indulge that side of himself as much as he used to. And it was refreshing to have someone treat him as a peer while also not being afraid to act less than fledged in his presence.

The library was quiet, but not in the weird way usually that made Rook feel uncomfortable. Silences that lacked a purpose. Like curdling anticipation. This one was nice, and it wasn’t entirely empty. Emmrich’s bangles lightly twinkled against one another at a much softer volume than she would think. Maybe he walked as smoothly as he did to avoid clattering too loudly?

The light trickles of gold meeting gold, ears honing in on the tip-toe like melody that only increased as they went up a flight of stairs. Emmrich would probably do well in a waltz. He leads with an ease and poise that allows Rook to follow in a gentle sway. Every once in a while, Emmrich would shift his weight to quickly pluck a book off a shelf. Never a full stop. Just a glance at the lines of titles and a turn that reaffirmed her belief. He would be an excellent partner in a waltz.

“We’ll focus these first few weeks on Nevarran history as a whole. That will become the foundation we build your study on.”

”I’m assuming that’s what Franziska is Majoring in?” Rook asked.

“She’s actually focusing her studies on the biological, but she currently has a Minor in Nevarra’s ancient societies, yes. Which is what led her to my class.”

“And you said she’s been doing work on something called the Banner Wars?”

“Quite. Miss Ingellvar posed some rather fascinating theories at the end of last semester. But I think we ought to save those talks for later, I’d rather these tutoring sessions be done as properly as we can so that the knowledge comes more naturally to you.” He explained.

“As opposed to me just being able to recite information.”

“Precisely, Miss Rook.”

A stack of five books were in Emmrich’s arms in what seemed like no time at all and he escorted her to an isolated table on the second floor. Tucked into a corner away from the central balustrades that provided floor windows into the lower level. As remote as they could get in a public space, not even prying eyes from below should be able to glimpse them. The books were neatly placed in the middle of the table but as Rook sat her messenger bag in front of one of the four chairs to claim it Emmrich tutted hurriedly.

“What?” Rook’s eyes snapped up in his direction and his own narrowed as though the answer was obvious.

“Your candy, Miss.” He said.

“Okay… what about it?”

“There’s no eating in the library. So, I’ll have to ask you to throw it away.”

His words stoked a defiant glimmer across her features, simmering into something more impish. Despite her boots being heavy, their sound remained a cushioned muffling as she worked back around the table to stand in front of him. A dance of fingertips across the table’s briefly caught his attention. Then he found her close again, nearly inches away just as they had been outside.

The act reignited his nerves and her scent weighed heavy in the air. He swore every time he breathed too close to her he could make out a more distinct note. Rook was good at changing between the personas. Like flipping a light switch. When her voice returned, it was low, sultry, and momentarily made Emmrich forget he wasn’t in an executive suite that could be rented out by the hour. For Rook, the real dance had begun. A delicate bow leading into a simple box step, nothing complicated.

“I’m afraid if you have requests for my mouth, Professor, that’ll cost you extra.”

This was a dangerous line to teeter on. And Emmrich could see in her eyes just how much that excited her even if the smile had left her face. Instead, her lips played closer to an insubmissive display. Thinned and straight with hidden pressure between the teeth. Daring his provocation.

Do it, give in, just a taste wouldn’t hurt. It was like he could hear her prodding at his synapses. Her full brows lowered ever so slightly in search of a crack in his manners. What direction will he lead to?

“It’s impolite to eat in places like this, as it can leave a mess behind.” He argued, choosing not to regard the taunt. Hesitation step, left turn. Move on.

“See, there’s a difference between eating and sucking. I should know, I’m very good at both. Besides, no crumbs.” In her mind, he guided her out and under his arm into a slow spin.

“Crumbs are not the only sort of mess, Miss Rook.”

“Oh, Emmrich, I can control my spit just fine. In fact, I usually prefer not to.” Maker, she was persistent. Back again in a stride across the floor, right turn, step change.

“The noise will be distracting.” The ebbing of a cross tone.

“I can stay quiet, sir.” Another turn. More.

Rather than respond, Emmrich held out an awaiting palm. Her breath was hot against his skin and well endowed with a syrupy quality. A cheeky tilt of her head greeted him. Without breaking eye contact, she crunched down on the sweet. It likely wasn’t too audible for anyone else but Emmrich felt it crackle in his bones like a snap of lightning. A recognizable blue tongue slipped a bit out of her mouth, poking the white stick further out in his direction. A compromise was always ideal.

He took the stick between his thumb and the side of his index finger. It left with ease, eyes focusing rather intently on nearly serrated edges of sugar left behind. If she were feeling extra cruel, she might have taken him by the wrist and forced him to watch her lap up the remnants. Sadly, she was feeling merciful because of the favor he had done for her earlier, and his gift to her this morning. So, she let him walk off with the evidence of her toothsome habit.

The dance was done. No descending of music, no sweat or adrenaline. It just ended. There was a tightening in her legs that wanted to reach out again to find the rhythm. But she knew better, no need rushing these sorts of things. Learning a new dance came with time.

In the few moments it took for Emmrich to make his way to a waste bin, Rook got to work. When he returned, the sight of Rook sitting calmly did take him aback. Arranging pencils, a fresh notebook, and a stack of purple sticky notes. It was as if… whatever that could be considered hadn’t just happened. Another flick of the light switch. Almost unsettling. She paid no mind to his approach this time, staying in silence while he placed his satchel on the flat surface and removed his coat. It found a comfortable place to rest on the empty chair to his right and he took his seat across from her.

“Now then.” He said, clearing his throat. “These first five books will be our source for the time being.” With an approaching thumb, Rook pushed the bottom of the stack to angle towards her. A single sticky note was removed for her to write on.

“Nevarra; A Deconstruction of Present, A City of The Dead, The 100 Year Reign of King Markus, Mortuary Matters, and… What Death Tells The Living.” She muttered to herself. The note was placed inside the first page of her journal before marking the date at the top line.

“We’ll be starting in that order as well. A Destruction of Present should cover a majority of our history to give us a good starting point for the other works, as they focus on specific periods. Miss Rook, how well acquainted are you with Nevarra’s past?” He asked.

“Is that a roundabout way of asking if I’m from here?”

“Well, you have heard of our Rites of Lichdom but you acted like it was separated from your history, so I already assumed you weren’t.” He said earnestly.

“Fair point, Professor. Fair point.” Rook chuckled to herself. “I don’t know a whole lot aside from random tidbits and trivia. Only lived here for about two years. Little less than that.”

“Understood. Then I shall try to keep a slow pace for this. If you have any questions, feel free to interrupt me.” He gave an encouraging smile. Good thing he did too, it distracted Rook just enough away from making the obvious ‘slow pace’ joke in the brief bout of quiet where Emmrich searched for something in his satchel.

When the moment passed, he produced a small, leather sleeve. Then came a pair of thin, gold wired glasses from within, which soon rested against the bridge of his nose. Of course he wears little round glasses. Creators, this was too much. An echo the same sentiments she carried this morning in regards to his watch. Bless him, he was adorable. Even Rook could admit to that much.

Emmrich removed the book from the stack and watched Rook make another note on her page. To begin, the first chapter covered the basics for Nevarra Pre-Imperium. Not much to go over, mostly the settlement of the Palansene and how their foundational beliefs would influence Nevarra from there forward. Rook didn’t require much explanation aside from him needing a definition of what an animist was. Which she did make a note of. Animism wasn’t necessarily commonplace outside of Nevarra. However the concept itself wasn’t what perplexed her, just the verbiage.

Next, they went over the invasion of the Imperium post The Neromenian Onslaught. Most countries this far north were considered part of Tevinter at some point in time, each modern nation breaking off as a result of the Exalted March against The Imperium. Again, Rook had little to say on this. So long as she was from anywhere north of The Waking Sea, this information likely wasn’t anything new. He did ask her to take note of specific years while within The Imperium, as those periods would be covered more in subsequent lessons, and she did so without complaint.

From what Emmrich could see across the table, she kept a rather thorough documentation of everything he was saying. She would pause briefly to hear him, and then take the notes nearly verbatim. That gave him the confidence to go ahead and pick up his speed closer to what he was comfortable with. This wasn’t exactly the sort of material he covered in his lectures so there wasn’t much room for him to expound but Rook didn’t mind that. By the time their appointment time was reaching its end, Emmrich had just gotten to the establishment of Nevarra’s first king, Verald. Rook’s phone vibrated to give a five minute warning.

“That might be a nearly perfect stopping point, Emmrich. Well done!” She praised with a comically quiet round of applause. “It’s almost like this is your job or something.”

“You make a diligent pupil, Miss Rook. I dare say I’ve never seen better note taking in my life.” Well, not since him and Johanna were in school anyways.

“Why thank you, my good sir. But I’m guessing this was you going easy on me.”

“The material itself is, admittedly, far more simplistic than what I traditionally cover in my classes. But the fundamentals are exactly that, fundamental.” If they keep this sort of pace then three sessions a week may not even be necessary for the base history portions. Monetary value aside. “How about we meet again on Monday? A fresh week for mostly fresh material since we got through more of today’s lesson than I anticipated.”

“Fine by me. I promise not to forget everything.” She teased.

Rook began gathering up her belongings quietly. For someone who took such care with their writing, the state of her messenger bag was what some may call ghastly. Hardly any rhyme or reason to the placement once put away. Not to mention the rather odd sound the bag produced as she rifled through it. A noise that appeared not to bother Rook, as she was on a mission to find something specific. Another plastic wrapped blue sucker found itself between her fingers. Emmrich couldn’t help but stare at it with a peculiar expression.

“Miss Rook.”

“Yes?” She hummed, looking up at him and finding that not only were his glasses already tucked away, but he had also begun putting his coat on.

“Forgive me if this is a rude observation to make but… well, every time we have seen one another it seems as if you’re eating those candies. Is there a reason for that? Low blood sugar?” On one hand, he was just curious. But on the other, he was concerned. If this was something rooted in a medical necessity then he would feel guilty for asking her not to have one while in session. Rook twirled the stick between the pads of her fingers with a grin that was unlike her previous ones. Sheepish wasn’t the right word but that was the closest descriptor that came to Emmrich’s mind. Embarrassed, perhaps?

“Oh, no. Nothing really like that. Ask anyone I know and they’ll just tell you I’m obsessed with them. Keep me focused.” She laughed, half dejectedly. Emmrich squinted at the wrapping when her hand stilled.

“Can’t say I recognize the brand.” That made Rook look at him with something akin to offense.

“You’ve never heard of Lyri-Yums? Seriously? Where have you been?” Now that she said it, the name sounded oddly familiar. He couldn’t exactly place where he’d heard it before but still, the logo was entirely foreign to him. “These things are like… a gas station staple! Or the cheapest jumbo bag of suckers you can buy at the drugstore that almost no one ever gets. Except for me, I buy them. They’re a classic. They’ve been around for basically forever.” More importantly, they were always plentiful. Boarders didn’t hurt their profits enough to be limited. “I can’t believe you’ve never heard of them!”

“You buy the largest bags they sell?” He wasn’t trying to be judgmental but… How many of these was she eating exactly?

“Duh! That’s how you get the best deal. I only really care about one flavor though so I hoard all the others and give them out to people and stuff.” Her answer left him somewhat dumbstruck.

“You… buy the largest bag just for one of the flavors?” He reiterated, somehow more confounded.

“What? I’m partial to Blue-Raspberry…” Rook stared pointedly in his direction, rising from her seat and taking her bag around her shoulder. “You seem like a Green Apple kind of guy… but that might be just because you’re a teacher. Orange, maybe?” She theorized to herself. Her sudden need to psychoanalyze him elicited a moderately uncomfortable laugh, like he was being scrutinized for something he didn’t quite get.

”I wouldn’t know, I’m not much of a sweets person.” He stated plainly. Once again, that earned him a rather vexed expression from Rook.

”Dude… are you okay? I don’t think I’ve ever pitied someone more in my life.” She said, giving a soft groan of annoyance.

Honing in on the usually decorative front breast pocket of his jacket, her typically mischievous smirk returned. With a half skip to stand in front of him and a nearly conspiratorial look in either direction, she carefully opened the pocket and slipped the candy’s stick in. A pair of delicate hands arranged the candy itself into a ‘suitable’ place. As though it were closer to a piece of jewelry than an indulgence.

“You can have one of mine. I have a million anyways and… maybe five more somewhere in my bag.” Rook went quiet, counting in her head how many she’d had since she last refilled.

“That really isn’t necessary, Miss Rook. Like I said, I’m not much of a sweets person-” Emmrich began to insist but she interrupted.

“People always say that but do they ever really mean it? You can have this one and if you miss me over these next terribly long, extended weekend you’re giving me, then you already have something to remember me by!”

Another one of her teasings, it seemed. Emmrich got the distinct impression that Rook wasn’t the type of person he should bother fighting with over something like this. Sometimes, it was better for everyone to just let someone have their way. Besides, it was a nice gesture. Fruitless, but nice. So, he took a heavy breath and let her be.

“I don’t suppose I’d be allowed to walk you to your car?” He asked politely, remembering what he had said this morning about being more mindful.

“What a gentleman! I’ll have to give you candy more often.” She said, stepping away from him to pull the stack of books towards her. “And you would be right, can’t have you finding out which of my several luxury vehicles I took to get here.”

“I could escort you to the exit at least. On the off chance any of those young men were perturbed enough to try and wait around.” He hadn’t been lying before, he was taking her safety seriously in this. After all, Emmrich worked at a University. No shortness of unsavory events in that sort of environment. He was glad matters of that sort were taken more seriously. But they weren't always and Emmrich wouldn’t soon forget that. Rook’s smile softened appreciatively.

“If I was worried about a gaggle of just graduated teenagers then I wouldn’t be able to survive this job. I’ll be just fine.” It was kind of him to offer. “Thank you, though. I can put the books away while you go off to your ‘other responsibilities’.”

She tapped her fingers against the stack and another light buzz could be heard before Emmrich could argue, this time coming from Rook’s wrist. Peering down at her watch, Rook saw the warning for her text window about to elapse. A light gesture brought the boat across the screen to unlock it and she lowered her voice into the screen.

“Hey C.T.” She whispered. The watch chimed. “Text V. Session done. On way home. Need longer windows to not be in public.” She shot Emmrich a sympathetic look and motioned for him to go ahead and leave. The same voice that Manfred would use for his tablet responded, also in a hush. Rook always thought that feature was funny.

“Would you like to send?” The voice asked.

“Yes.” She replied, and the watch chimed softly again. Emmrich grabbed his satchel, hearing Rook sigh to herself. “I’ll see you Monday, Lichdom.” Leaning back into her watch, pretending to need privacy.

“I look forward to it.” He responded, gently bowing his head before turning to head back down the aisles and towards the steps. In the back of his mind, Emmrich was relieved to know that whoever Rook’s employer and handler were, they kept close eyes on their employees. At least a little more reassuring that his worry was as unwarranted as Rook claimed.

Once Emmrich was far enough out of eyesight, Rook examined the books closely. She picked up their material for today, flipped through pages and gave a disapproving tsk. Emmrich had made it seem like they’d made great progress but from her perspective it looked more like they’d barely scratched the surface. He really had been going easy on her.

Her mind turned to her schedule. Thursdays were usually slow, clients preferred to be big spenders on weekends. So she didn’t have any appointments unless something came up. The stack was gathered up in her arms, not quite as easily as Emmrich had done it. Curse taller people for having longer arms. The path her new professor had carved was still fresh in her memory, and most of the books he had grabbed were generally in the same area so she found their spots with ease. All except for A Deconstruction of Present, that one she kept with her until she made it to the front desk on the first floor. A man with disheveled brown hair sat behind it, somewhere in his late 20s or early 30s, fiddling with something on his computer screen. When he noticed her, his eyes rounded in surprise.

“Hi! Hey, hi? How can I help you?” He asked nervously. Rook was used to that sort of reaction, so she smiled warmly with a small tilt of her head. Acting nervous.

“Hi, sorry to bother you but I was hoping to maybe get a library card? I just moved here and needed to check something out.” She made an awkward show of spinning the book around to show him. Unsure and a little demure, sometimes being over explanatory. That usually got people used to her appearance faster.

“Yeah, of course!” He replied, taking a pencil out from behind his ear and the book from off from her raised side of the counter. “I’ll just need to see your ID and I can add you into our system.”

“Got it, just give me one second…” She said as she reached back into her bag to find her wallet. The man looked over the title of the book she’d brought.

“Are you a History Major, by chance? I’m guessing you go to NCU.” He asked.

“Hoping to be and yeah, I just transferred this year. I’m not from Nevarra so I don’t know too much local history and wanted to try and catch up.” She gave a fake chuckle and tucked a loose strand behind her ear once her wallet was in hand. He flashed a lopsided grin. Easy.

“Well, if you ever need recommendations, sort of what I’m here for. I’d be more than happy to help, Miss…?”

“My friends call me Rook, but that won’t be on my ID.” She joked and slid the piece of plastic over to him.

“Rook. Mysterious, I like it.” He looked down at her ID card and made a note on a sheet of paper, then another one on something he pulled up from his desk top. She could vaguely see a string of black letters being added to a form in the reflection of his squared lens.

“Thank you very much.” She hummed. Keep the flirting light, natural and anxious. Act like this isn’t something she does all the time. “And I might have to take you up on that. I’ll probably be in here pretty often.” Rook watched him briefly nip at the inside of his cheek.

“I’m here most weekdays. Sometimes Sundays. The name’s Heiner, by the way.”

“Heiner. Is that Nevarran?” She asked.

“It is. Born and raised. Go Scarabs and all that.” He replied sarcastically. So he probably went to NCU.

“Let me take a wild guess… Lit Major?”

“Call up the Chantry, we have a prophet in here! Certainly not obvious on account of the-” He gestured up the ceiling. “Everything.” Another playful laugh. “But I obviously have a minor in education. Other than that, most of my knowledge came from this place.”

“A jack of all trades then.” Good, he probably won’t recognize Emmrich, so long as Heiner doesn’t hear his name.

”If only. But I do know enough to get by, and definitely enough to be helpful.” His gaze had traveled to admire her face, she could tell he was looking at her mouth. When she gingerly brought in bottom lip, he blinked away whatever thought had come to him and went back to the computer.

“I’ll have to remember that.” She mused and he tried to hide a pleased expression.

Pressing the enter key ushered the sound of a nearby printer whirring to life. Heiner plucked one of the sheets of paper, folded it in half, scanned the barcode on it, scanned the book, then stacked them both alongside her ID into one pile.

“Our machine is down right now, hopefully it’ll be working again by the weekend. I’m keeping a list of everyone getting a card. So when you come back in here next, show us that piece of paper and we can print your real card off for you. Might also need to show your ID again but if it’s me then I’ll remember you.” He said, sliding the stack to her with a slow push.

“Oh? Am I that memorable?”

“I would say so.” He beamed, watching her carefully tuck her ID and the paper slip into her bag. “In any case, you are now officially a hypothetical library card owner with Blackthorn! Congratulations, Miss Lavellan. Or should I call you Rook?”

“Rook would be perfect, Heiner.”

It was odd hearing her last name again, almost no one called her that anymore. It was purposeful, and she anticipated hearing it in this interaction. Still, there was a second where Rook felt her act faltering. She flashed Heiner one last smile before scooping the book into her arms. Gave him a little wave and made her way to the exit. As soon as the doors closed behind her and the autumn air tickled at her abdomen, she instinctively sought her comfort.

Blue-Raspberry sugar to make her think about anything else. Especially not the face of a woman who looked too much like her.

[1ore]

How did you go about developing the written language for moribund? When it appears in your art there's something about the shapes that's very visually satisfying !!! It feels a lot more unique to me than scripts in media I see that are often just substitution ciphers of the alphabet, and as I'm trying to go about making a written language for my own world I always get caught up on what it should look like

Thank you so much for reaching out! I love nothing more than to talk about Satik. I’ve been tinkering with the alphabet for a couple of years, so I’ve forgotten the rationale for some of the older design choices, but I’ll do my best.

satik momence for reference...

I think the biggest breaks I’ve had with Satik are either a.) stolen from a language during self-study or b.) happy accidents that came from developing the Diasporas, where some aspect of their lives gave me ideas about how the script should look.

Exhibit B: Satik came about because I thought it would be neat to make a script that didn’t use spaces to separate words or sentences, and also wasn’t character-based, like kanji or mandarin chinese. Mostly I was thinking about what use a written alphabet would have in Ser life. They’re traditionally a maritime people who only had space for what they could fit in their boats. Paper texts don’t mix well with seawater, and there’s not a lot of room to store clay tablets or sheafs of embossed leather. Anything they write would be engraved on tools, embroidered on clothes, painted on bodies, whatever. It would need to be space-efficient and easy to read, regardless of the medium it was written in.

My answer to this, at least back then, was to make up an alternating “bracket-case” where the first and last letter of each word is a bracket-shaped glyph that encloses the regular-case letters. This way I could separate different words without using empty spaces. I think I was also inspired by quotation marks as they appear in mandarin chinese and japanese.

if you were to represent this using the english alphabet and upper/lowercase, ITWoulDLooKLikEThiS.

Is this actually space-efficient? I find it increases the line height and buffer between letters, so No It Is Not. But I think it’s neat, so it stays.

Other than that, I made up letters based on what felt right and whatever design rules occurred to me later.

Because of the brackets and my own neuroses about geometry, I was drawn to hard angles, arcs, and circles for Satik’s letters. I like the contrast between them. I wanted to reduce stroke count and make sure that the individual characters were easy to recognize, even if you wrote them really shitty and fast, or with a fixed line weight, heavy ink, whatever. One of my pet peeves in constructed languages is scripts that are overdesigned without daily use in mind. Bracket-case might horseshoe back into being overdesigned and extraneous but we shan’t interrogate this.

There was a lot of iterating where I would make up words and write short sentences to stress-test the script. Some letters were confusing or tedious to write or didn’t look good in certain combinations, so I had to go back and tweak them. I’m still tweaking them. I am haunted by letters.

You might notice that some of Satik’s letters are similar to letters in the English alphabet. Sorry to say I took a page out of the Daedric alphabet and used these to make Satik easier to read and write for me. Being an English-speaker influenced a lot of the early decisions I made about the Satik alphabet in an unconscious way, too. Learning Japanese has helped challenge some of those assumptions. It’s fun to see what you can do with katakana and hiragana that you can’t do with latin letters. I guess I’m saying that you don’t have to reinvent the wheel and contrive cool new twists on the written word from scratch. if I can give you an excuse to use constructed languages as a way to learn real languages, especially endangered ones or ones you were never taught because of assimilation, I think that would be pretty cool.

Some other decisions were decisions of convenience in a different way. English has a lot of phonetic ambiguity and redundancy with letters like c, x, q, etc. they change pronunciation depending on the circumstances. Satik letters are phonetically unambiguous (mostly) and represent a discrete phoneme, never a combination of phonemes. Satik also has a relatively limited inventory of sounds. some sounds that are separate in other languages are considered identical in Satik, like zh/j/sh and v/f. Yeah it supports the kind of minmaxed austere, practical energy I wanted for the script. But it was also so I didn't have to make up more letters than I needed to LOL.

I think it becomes easier to design new stuff for the alphabet once you've got some guardrails down, whether that's a few letters under your belt or some design rules. Later on, I had Satik borrow the glottal stop from Arish. It’s represented as a continuous line that cuts through the middle of the word and joins the outer bracket-case letters together.

I thought it would be fun to make the written glottal stop feel like the spoken glottal stop, where everything ceases for a second. it was easy to play with the brackets to make that happen. funny how this stuff just kind of snowballs once you've got some basics down.

Satik ... !

[thistlecatfics]

✨Author Interview ✨

tagged by @diamondmeadow <3

total works: 78

total word count: 410,145

your top 5 stories by kudos/likes?

Reenactment (9k, Hermione/Andromeda/Narcissa)

Till Tomorrow and Till Death (11k, Regulus/Remus)

Starina (3k, wolfstar)

rugby boys, they play 15s (5k, flintwood)

Alphard's Favourite (5k, Sirius/Peter)

do you respond to comments?

I really try to! I love comments so much! but I'm very often like "wow that was an incredible comment. let me take some time to construct a reply," and then it's fully a year later and I realize I still haven't responded.

what's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

Duty (2k, Regulus/Sirius) or Waxing Gibbous, October 1981 (6k, wolfstar + Remus/Fenrir) because nothing hits harder than canon compliant first war fic when you know exactly what's coming and still hope for something different anyway.

what's the fic you've written with the happiest ending?

It's debatable but I think Icarus (20k, Parvati/Millicent/Pansy). That's a fic that really earns its hopeful ending for these women as they struggle with their substance use.

do you write crossovers?

haven't yet, and don't plan to, but life is long!

have you ever received hate on a fic?

honestly not really. I think someone tried to hate on the Sirius/Bellatrix mentions in Till Tomorrow or Till Death but they were so vague about their wording I choose to believe that they were enthusiastic instead. It helps to mostly write rarepairs and femslash and very obviously tagged dead dove content.

do you write smut?

I'm doing my best!

have you ever had a fic stolen?

nope

have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes, into Russian but then the translator took it down (along with all of her Russian translations) in response to Russia's invasion of Ukraine. (Slava Ukraini!)

have you ever co-written a fic before?

Nope! I would have thought it was something I couldn't handle doing, but roleplaying is making me wonder if I could.

what's a wip that you want to finish but don't think you ever will?

my unposted 40k of Black family fic where Andromeda doesn't run away and Sirius sorts Slytherin. It would be really long and epic, and I only want to start posting it if I actually believe I'd see it through.

what are your writing strengths?

Dialogue, sentence flow, grammar, character voice (sometimes, always working on it)

what are your writing weaknesses?

Description. I'm one of those people who doesn't visualize anything, and so I forget that other people do and would benefit from any visual sense of what's going on. Sensory details in general - I tend to get super into my character's heads and am too into their internal world and not enough in the external world (which is also reflective of how I as a person operate in the world). I also tend to get handwavy about things I don't care about in general.

what are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

that is such a specific question haha. do people really have big feelings about that? I included a little French in my Flonks fic but only a little.

what's a fandom/ship you haven't written for yet but want to?

because of the roleplay, Draco has taken over my brain in a dangerous way. I want to write Draco/Sirius, Draco/Harry, and Draco/Regulus now!

what's your favourite fic you've written?

Ok I first included ten here but I cut out any of the ones I already mentioned, and then I tried to narrow it down further, but I still ended up with four:

Merry Christmas, Please Don’t Call (25k, E, Sirius/Regulus, university AU)

Bellatrix Black: An Elegy (5k, E, Bellatrix/Andromeda, Bellatrix character study)

Nymphadora, Nymphet (20k, M, Bellatrix/Tonks, very dark teacher/student)

Family Legacy (1.6k, T, Tedromeda + Remadora + Teddy/Victoire for HP Trans Fest, queer/trans joy and resilience)

No pressure tagging @mundrakan @st-clements-steps @pain-in-the-riri

[multiplicity-positivity]

Median system here. I’m the host and core of the system (our syscovery happened a few months ago, we’re handling it pretty well I think). Something that bothers the others a tiny bit is that, while they’re thought of as facets, I’m not. They’re just facets of me, and I’m… metaphorically speaking, the gem.

Am I wrong for thinking that way? Like, I’m kinda scared of thinking of myself any other way. I’m supposed to be the overarching person who we all are, I don’t want to be just… another facet.

I know more distinct systems don’t have a “non-alter” since everyone is an alter, but I don’t know if it’s different for me, since I’m median, and we’re all different versions of the same person. And I know there’s no real “right” or “wrong” way to go about systemhood, but… Everyone else who has an opinion about it (within the system) thinks maybe I should consider myself a facet too, but I’m really uncomfortable with it.

Maybe I just needed to say this to someone. I don’t know. Do you have any advice?

Hi! Our biggest advice for you here is to listen to your system and collaborate with them to find some language that works for everyone. Some systems do use and benefit from “core” language, but many do not, as it can too easily lead to prioritizing or favoring one particular headmate over the rest of the system.

Since the rest of your facets have issues with this language, it likely would be for the best to change the way you refer to yourself! Perhaps you could simply call yourself the system host or maybe blanket self (<- Pluralpedia link!), or some other unique term that you all come together to decide. Maybe you could spend a bit of time referring to yourself as a facet, and see how it feels for you.

We do feel like it’s a bit unfair to say that if you are also a facet you’ll be “just another facet.” All system members, facets or not, are unique and special individuals in their own ways. Regardless of how well developed or how active they are, there isn’t ever one system member who should be put on a pedestal above the rest (hence why many systems are offended by “core” language).

We cannot dictate how you or your system visualize yourselves, and in the end we won’t be able to choose the right language that works for y’all. But we do really think that it would be a good idea to listen to your facets, take their ideas to heart, and at least try to work on a compromise that benefits everyone!

We’ll go ahead and link our post on in-system conflict (<- link) in case something there might be useful for y’all. Remember, change often is scary, but change is often necessary in order for us to keep growing and developing in positive ways! We’re wishing y’all the very best of luck with whatever you all decide in the future!