#this is exactly how I wish it went

[rupert-taggie]

so 🥹 damn 🥹 GOOD 🥹

Apparently AO3 needs to give the collection approval before they can post it , but I’m impatient, so here’s my Angelblack one shot set about a week after 1x08 (the Rupert/Cameron issue is not discussed, but I imagined a scenario on which it was somehow dealt with).

anxious angel I’ll wrap you in heart shaped bubble wrap so you won’t get hurt

“Daddy is going to murder you,” Taggie said with a light shake of the head, strawberry blonde hair catching the early morning sunlight just outside the Priory. Rupert had started visiting at times where Declan was less likely to see him and Taggie alone–and he had quickly grown rather tired of it. He didn’t want his feelings for Taggie to be a secret. He didn’t think he’d been doing that good of a job at hiding them, anyway.

“I very much doubt that,” said Rupert with a tilt of the head. “Blood is a nuisance to clean off tapestry.”

Taggie looked up at him with a raised eyebrow that Rupert knew exactly translated to “Be serious”.

“Angel,” he started again, reaching to touch her shoulders. “He will be pissed. I can agree on that. He will try to pummel my face with his fists. But he will also have to surrender, eventually.”

“Declan O’ Hara doesn’t surrender,” Taggie sighed. “You saw his reaction to those photos in the car–and we weren’t doing anything.”

“You can make your own decisions,” Rupert provided unhelpfully.

“Yes, but I am still afraid. I don’t want to lose my dad. And I’m sure you don’t want to lose your friend.”

How typical of Taggie, hitting the target with all the precision of a professional archer. Of course Rupert didn’t want to lose Declan’s friendship. Hell, his only true (human) friend had been Lizzie for so long, he’d grown quite addicted to being able to rely on more than one person. He’d always known it was dangerous–just as befriending, and developing feelings for Taggie had been.

But there was no going back, was it? He meant what he told her. He hadn’t realized just how much harder it had become, something as simple as breathing, before he met her. Watching her with someone else felt like being stabbed in the chest by a thousand fireplace pokers. And for perhaps the first time in his life, being with someone else felt like true betrayal; to Taggie, and to himself. He wanted to be the man she thought he could be. He wanted it desperately. And Declan would have to just bloody deal with it.

***

Taggie entered the kitchen first, eyeing her father warily as he absentmindedly puffed on a cigarette, the day’s newspaper spread across one bent knee.

“Dad,” Taggie made herself say. “Can I talk to you about something?”

“I’m all ears, love,” he said without taking his eyes off the paper. Taggie stopped fidgeting with the sleeve of her jumper.

Rupert slowly walked into the room, his usual easy gate, a small, if tight smile on his lips.

That caught Declan’s attention.

“What are you doing here? The meeting is in a few hours,” he said, his mustache twitching in a curious smile.

Taggie glanced at Rupert, who in turn glanced at her.

“I wish I could say I am sorry, Declan,” he said as he took hold of Taggie’s hand. Her heart was beating rabbit-fast against her ribcage.

Her dad’s smile quickly evaporated as his brown eyes moved to Taggie and Rupert’s joined hands.

“No,” he said. One short, inescapable word.

“Declan,” Rupert started, but he got up, the chair scraping horribly against the tiled floor.

“Again? Fucking again? What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Daddy, please–”

“Your room, Tag. Now.”

“I’m not a child! I will not be banished to my room when the conversation is about me, Dad!” She held tight onto Rupert’s rough palm, gripped onto his fingers for dear life. She would not back down, and she would not be quiet.

“You get your hands off her in the next two seconds, or I’ll break your fucking nose, Campbell,” her dad said, ignoring her entirely.

“Fine,” Rupert said, and Taggie’s head was already whipping towards him, but Rupert’s encouraging nod made her loosen her grip on his hand. “See?” He added, raising both palms in a placating gesture.

“What the fuck did you do to her, mmh?”

“I didn’t do anything to her,” Rupert said ruefully. “It was one kiss, Declan. Maybe two–”

But her dad was already crushing Rupert’s freshly pressed shirt in his fists and slamming him against the nearest cabinet, its content rattling wildly.

“Dad!”

“You think I won’t kill you? Are you testing me?” He said, eyes ablaze as Rupert gritted his teeth, clearly not wanting to hit back.

“I need you to listen to me–”

“Shut the fuck up!” Declan roared. “You are not going to be shagging my daughter, do you understand? She will not be a bloody notch in your belt!”

“Do you remember when you interviewed me?” Rupert asked after her dad smashed him against the fridge, this time. Taggie was torn between screaming and crying.

“I should have fucking ruined you when I had the–”

“You asked me if I’d ever been in love!” Rupert shouted, and her dad went dreadfully still. Rupert took a breath and then said, “I said I hadn’t. And I thought I hadn’t–I didn’t think I could.”

He looked over at Taggie over her father’s shoulder, and her lips parted in surprise.

“I can apologise for hurting you, Declan. But I cannot apologise for the way I feel about Taggie.”

Taggie wanted to grab his father’s shoulders and pull him away from Rupert, but she couldn’t take her eyes off him. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t breathe. Taggie had never been good with words–which her mother never allowed her to forget–but in that moment, she thought there weren’t any words that would suffice to explain the rumbling in her chest, the tightness in ehr throat.

Her father kept one arm against Rupert’s neck as he turned to look at her. There was something complicated in his expression–sad, almost. Taggie couldn’t bear it.

“He’s going to hurt you,” he said, as if it were obvious. “He’s not good enough for you.”

“So which is it? I’m a stupid child, but he’s not good enough?”

“I never called you that,” he hissed.

Taggie shook her head, expelling a shaky breath. “If I get hurt, then I get hurt.”

Her dad’s dark eyebrows joined on his forehead. Rupert’s eyes were only for her–even when he was risking being beaten half to death.

“I did everything right. I went out with Sebastian. I tried, and I couldn’t do it. I don’t want to be unhappy for the sake of p–p–propriety. I’ve been doing everything I can to keep everyone happy, but that’s it, daddy. I want to be happy, too. I think I deserve it.”

Her dad seemed, impossibly, lost. Until a few days ago she’d never seen him at a loss for words–and now, twice in the span of days. First when her mother left for London, and now.

“He is twice your age, Tag,” he said then, helplessly.

“There’s nothing I can do about that,” she shrugged, pressing her lips together.

He let go of Rupert then, though Taggie suspected it had less to do with him not wanting to hurt the man anymore, and more with wanting to give her his full attention, if only this once. Rupert released a quiet breath, straightening. She hoped he wouldn’t be stupid enough to talk.

“He beds a different woman every other day. He will let you down, Tag. Men like him always do.” He fished in his pocket to grab another cigarette, and Taggie wordlessly passed him the matchsticks box.

“Maybe. Maybe things can be different.” She could never know it for sure, but she believed in Rupert. She felt it, somewhere deep inside her, that he could be who she needed him to be. And most importantly, that he wanted to.

“Things are different,” Rupert said quietly. Her dad grimaced around the cigarette, slowly turning to face Rupert once more.

“Say I give you my blessing–which I will not. How are you going to protect her, mmh? The press would get wind of it soon enough. Brand her as your plaything.” He spit out the last word, and Taggie frowned at the prospect.

“I will do whatever is necessary. I won’t let anyone speak ill of Taggie, and if they do, they’ll find themselves jobless the day after. You know I can do that.”

Taggie bit on her lower lip; she didn’t think she was terribly fragile, and she had been trying hard not to care about what others might think of her. But the sheer protectiveness in Rupert’s tone warmed her from the inside out, and she’d be lying if she didn’t say it made her feel safe, to know he would be in her corner, no matter what.

“And if I ban her from seeing you? If I kick her out when she doesn’t?”

Taggie shook her head, her stomach dropping as she called for her dad, but Rupert said, “I don’t think you would do that. But if you do, she has a place to stay.”

“Remember when I interviewed you?” Her dad added after an eternity, mocking Rupert’s question from a few minutes before. “I lied. I was very much not bluffing–and I can still hurt you with what I have.”

Rupert’s eyes widened slightly, clearly surprised–but he shouldn’t have been. Taggie had hoped that was all in the past, but she knew her father too well to think he didn’t have some cards left to play. Rupert hung his head, and Taggie trembled, afraid he would just accept defeat.

“Send it to The Scorpion, then.”

Taggie’s breath wooshed out of her, and Declan stilled.

“Whatever it is, it cannot possibly hurt more than giving Taggie up.”

Taggie knew she had to exercise some self restraint if she didn’t want to be calling an ambulance up at the Priory for the second time, but she couldn’t stop herself from walking past her dad and to Rupert’s side. He gave her a small smile, and she smiled right back.

When she turned, her dad’s cigarette was a stub between his fingers. He looked between the two of them, and so much was swirling in his eyes–disappointment, worry, hurt. Taggie didn’t know what resignation looked like on Declan O’ Hara’s features, but she thought she might be glimpsing something like it now.

“Venturer needs your money,” he said. “I don’t like it. I don’t like that you are doing this to me. If you want to stay, you’ll have to stay out of my sight.”

Rupert nodded, and some part of Taggie felt selfish for forcing him to give up something Ruper had quite literally everything riding on. But the other part of her, the part that was louder and braver, couldn’t help but relish in the knowledge she was more important to him than Venturer. Than her dad’s friendship. Than, potentially, his reputation.

“Alright,” Rupert said, his knuckles brushing Taggie’s. He gave her a long look, and Taggie wanted to kiss him, but there would be many more chances to do just that. Rupert left, Declan trembling with restrained rage and without sparing him a glance.

“Daddy,” Taggie breathed.

He shook his head, raising one hand to silence her, and stormed out of the room.

Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes. She squeezed them shut, held out for the nearest chair to steady her. She didn’t want her dad to hate her, to think her naive, to stop talking to her.

But, in truth, she was also relieved.

Caitlin would support her–Patrick too, maybe. And Rupert would be there. She was choosing herself, for the very first time, and it filled her with such potent light, she promised herself she would never go back to the shadows.

***

“I’m sorry,” Taggie told Rupert that evening as they walked, hand in hand, down the sloping path that took them from Lizzie’s house to the Priory. She’d invited Rupert for tea, and Taggie had joined them as soon as she could get there. Lizzie had been mildly surprised–more about Taggie, than about Rupert. He appreciated Lizzie speaking her mind, openly telling Tag to be careful, and warning him not to screw things up.

“What about?” Rupert asked.

“Dad,” she said simpy. “Working with him is going to be a nightmare.”

Rupert chuckled, his thumb drawing soothing motions across Taggie’s. He felt her shiver slightly, and he pressed his shoulder to hers. “You know I love a challenge.”

“You can pretend it doesn’t hurt, but I know it does.”

He closed his eyes briefly, then said a simple, “Yes.”

“Do you regret it?”

He turned to her, and the feeble orange light from the setting sun hit her blue eyes. He’d never seen anything more lovely. “Not one bit.”

Taggie laughed, for the first time today, and Rupert smiled back. He was so unabashedly happy to see her happy–to know that for all the people he’d hurt, there was one person in the world he would never. Could never. It wasn’t redemption, but it was real. His chest stirred with affection too strong to be contained, and they stopped in the street as he pulled her close, splaying his fingers on her waist. She smiled up at him again. He felt as if he’d been touched by the sun for the very first time.

“I’m going to kiss you,” he said. Taggie whispered an acnowledgement, eyes bright.

So he did.

He held her close as their lips touched, her mouth tasting faintly of the chocolate she had at Lizzie’s. Her soft hands came up to his face, caressing him gently, in a way no one ever had before. They detached, briefly, and though it’d been a chaste enough kiss, Rupert had to stop to get back his breath.

“You really are an angel,” he said.

“Angels look over people,” she replied. “Keep them safe.”

Rupert nodded. “I’m no angel. But I’ll do the same for you.”

Taggie stood on her tiptoes to place a kiss at the corner of his mouth, Rupert’s eyes fluttering closed.

“I know,” she said, putting her hand in the crook of Rupert’s arm.

And he walked her home.

[floccinaucinihilipilificationa]

[annymation]

I imagine Magnifico introducing the queen to his subjects went something like this:

King Magnifico: This is my girlfriend, guys!

Queen Amaya: I’m your wife, dear.

King Magnifico: My wife. Even Better.

[millionsknives]

it's quicker & easier to eat your young

[felixs-voice-makes-me-wanna]

How much you wanna bet it was cunt…

Chan: You’re a menace. You know that? Felix: and you’re a cunt.

[stardustdiiving]

How evil is arlecchino and what is she cooking

As of 4.2, I’m really curious what they’re planning with Arlecchino as a character, especially as a villain/antagonist/morally dubious character, and how far/which direction they may go with that

Intuitively my impression is we’ll see her do something way more “villainous” than she presents herself as being for majority of Fontaine’s AQ in front of us right—(which isn’t a surprise given that, you know, Arlecchino nor the House of Hearth have never been presented as 110% ethical LOL) but I find myself not being in complete agreement with most analysis or speculation threads I see about Arlecchino’s morality and the like, level of sinister people seem to ascribe to her.

Idk how to put it, especially in regards to her children I do agree they are not a wholesome found family, that Arlecchino is not above pulling strings or using them for her own ulterior motives, but I kind of hesitate on the idea she only cares about the Hearth children as a means to the end/things she can control and there’s nothing else going on with her characterization wise there. I’m not saying that impression seems remotely unreasonable or unfounded, but just that it feels there’s something intentionally missing in how we are supposed to conceptualize her as a person

My main reasoning for this hunch is the fact they have not elaborated on Arlecchino and the previous Knave—who Arlecchino is stated to have taken over the position from by force. The extra tidbits I think about are that 1) Arlecchino was previously an orphan in the Hearth 2) the previous Knave is described as way, way crueler to the children of than Heart than Arlecchino was from when she took control of the House

Often, people’s major indicators that the House of the Hearth is kind of super fucked up are the NPCs we meet in world quests who are part of it and clearly suffering. But one thing I haven’t ever seen people mention w this that i think is a very interesting detail is, in The Very Special Fortune Slip Inazuma worldquest, where we stop this House of Hearth guy (Efim Snezhevich) from manufacturing tension between Watasumi/the Shogunate to restart the war with his other Hearth subordinates, at the end of the quest we get this dialogue that reveals he had been acting under the previous Knave’s directives:

It’s also mentioned he’s employing this plan in an attempt to “rebuild the prestige of the Knave” following Signora’s death, iirc? Now, see, the dialogue itself says that this is “assuming our captive is telling the truth” so who knows what’s really going on, but I find this a really odd/interesting thing to highlight. I’m a bit fuzzy on other world quests with Hearth members, and am not saying none of them were acting and subsequently being treated poorly by our Arlecchino, but like, this gives me a lot of questions especially when paired with implications this previous Knave seemed to be way worse

Like, what drove Arlecchino to take over? How unexpected and controversial was this within the House? Assuming the above information is all true it definitely says something this guy went rogue and acted on what the previous Knave would want and didn’t think our Arlecchino would greenlight it, which does feel consistent with the previous Knave being described as basically worse & crueler than our Arlecchino. It also makes me question how much house of hearth things we’ve seen outside the main story are the work of our Arlecchino or if there’s a bigger divide of loyalty. Heck, I could be wrong but it doesn’t even seem like we know if the previous Knave is dead or not

This isn’t me saying Arlecchino couldn’t possibly be treating hearth children worse than she wants us to know, especially ones who aren’t her “favorites” the way the fontaine trio seem to be, but I really don’t feel sure about making a solid conclusion of her exact level of malice the way ppl r generally understanding it rn when it feels there’s going to be more about her. Just the idea of she, as a Hearth child, clashed with the previous leader who was known for being cruel, overtook their position and took on less harsh methods of leading that made at least some members with more power/possible closer proximity to the previous Knave go rogue and try to commit atrocities in the previous Knave’s name…I feel this leaves a lot of room to suggest there’s more going on with how Arlecchino is as a person

I don’t mind if she’s just very evil and deceptive bc if she totally had me fall for thinking she was less evil than she actually was that’s fun tbh. But I feel people suggest that’s all her character could be with no degree of like, “sympatheticness” or deep grey morality and that if her character did go there it would be automatically poor writing and genshin walking back on making a truly evil woman when IDK. I feel you can claim at this point they have left it open ended and it’s never been completely confirmed she’s pure evil. Also sometimes I just get a hunch and feel cautiously confident in Genshin executing certain characters well. Not all characters, just certain ones. Especially given Fontaine’s character writing being very good and a character like Lyney feeling very solid to me when any development with Arlecchino would likely involve him and his siblings as well, I honestly feel open to the idea of Arlecchino being satisfyingly written to be both villainous/morally dubious but “sympathetic/likable as a person” in ways outside of just her ruthlessness if that makes sense

If I’m wrong/they drop the ball with it more than I anticipate I’ll eat my hat but I am pretty excited about her character and which way they decide to go with it. I will say the only potential impression I have of where they’ll go with her has been wondering if it will go in a “cycles of abuse” direction—I’d be surprised if they ever elaborated on Arlecchino’s character especially in how she feels about things and her also growing up as an exploited child of the hearth wasn’t relevant

[vaguely-concerned]

I've been trying to figure out a dynamic between neve and rye that I find more compelling, because right now there's not much of anything there for me to sink my little teeth into. but I think I've landed on something delicious with the idea that especially after minrathous gets fucked, rye looks at neve and sees myrna -- someone he feels he keeps letting down horribly no matter how hard he tries not to and can't quite achieve the approval of/connection with that he wishes so it's better to just pull away completely and disengage rather than stay in that unshifting shame. neve is (very understandably) measured and distant with him after what happened, and he's flashing back to his student days of myrna gazing at the perpetually hungover heartbroken heap of a person of him on the other side of her desk every time he missed the deadline of a paper or project like '...can we at least both agree that this is. a bit disappointing. especially considering your potential.' (and him all smudged black eyeshadow and numb ruefulness being like 'sure that's a very kind way to put it myrna thank you'.)

aside from the 'if I let him get too deeply into this he'll go the way of brom and it'll be all my fault (again)' element, neve thinks rye is dismissing her and her city/being a bit callous in the same way he was after varric's death (listen. how fucking wild must rook's reaction to losing a beloved mentor seem to the rest of the crew who aren't seeing the blood magic paper doll ghost varric the whole time, especially those who got to see them interact. you WOULD think 'there's something wrong with this guy. putting the job first is one thing just not seeming to react at all is another this is fucking freaky', wouldn't you, especially after seeing the warmth in that dynamic in action beforehand.) perfect storm of two people who grit their teeth and turn inwards in pain deciding that not talking about it is their best bet (NEWSFLASH: IT ISN'T) lmao

(rye spent his last year of watcher training on a mostly joyless bender and then got it together enough to finish the eternal orb project last moment in a fevered near-sleepless week instead of the half a year that was intended. emmrich is both astounded and distressed to hear this. "a week? but -- but that is an astounding accomplishment rook!! and also why in the maker's good light would you ever do that to yourself?" ("well you see there was no one to stop me from doing it like that but me. and under those conditions these things tend to happen".) rye was working through/looking up stuff around transitioning and doing every kind of OTHER high level watcher research through that whole time, but ultimately he's an excellent watcher and a terrible student, at least under traditional methods. adhd from here to the fucking moon. touched by something akin to divine inspiration in moments of high tension that pulls all the threads into one coherent unbreakable cord, a bit of a frayed mess in most other settings. in our world he'd be dropping out of a masters program at the very last hurdle in this moment maker bless and protect him)

[derpinette]

girls being nice to me gets me higher than ecstasy ever could

[yo9urt]

applied for a job a while ago and wrote in my spreadsheet "i am not fucking getting this job" not because of the qualifications but because my application was honestly just not that good. today the lady called me and scheduled an interview. Ok

[stuworbutwithchipmunks]

I think we should talk more about how CGI Brittany has the career 80's Brittany always wanted.

[orcelito]

Wild that anytime I post an update a lot of people read it and are even excited about it and have their own thoughts and reactions to it that I'll never know.

Comments are only the very tip of the iceberg with it. And I am Very grateful to commenters for letting me in on it. But in the same way that I'll be excited with my friends when a fic we love updates, it's likely that Other people enthuse with Their friends when my fic updates. And it's just so strange. An experience I'll never have access to.

Everyone's relationship with my fic is unique. So many different people with so many different circumstances and preferences... and the number of people that have told me that my fic is one of their favorites, some even saying it's their Favorite favorite... every single one of them have their own relationship with my writing.

It's just interesting to me. I think and think and think on my writing. I have my plans for basically the entire fic, the way I want it to end already thought out, all the major plot beats and the relationship progressions, All of that thought out. I love my writing so very much, but I'm on the inside looking out. This is my mechanical horse, and I'm in here laying out the groundwork and pulling levers and constructing limbs, puttering away making the horse move. Forever and always, my relationship with it will be more intimate than anyone's, and yet more clinical. Because I know it better than the back of my own hand, but I'll never have the experience of reading it fresh. Of reading it without knowing everything that's going to happen from now to the end and beyond. I won't have the thrill of the plot twists I have planned, the delight at seeing things progress, the horror at seeing things go wrong...

This is my mechanical horse, and I'm making it move.

I just always wonder what it must be like to see it from the outside. I hope to others that it's a pretty horse.

[britneyshakespeare]

screw whatever else i've said; the most important thing you can do in this lifetime is watch tv

[apatheticintrovert]

Thinking about everything I've done wrong in my entire life, how's everyone else's night going?

[gojoest]

how i’ll be spending the entire week :,)

[jon-withnoh]

I’m doing Ich Gehör Nur Mir in my singing lessons rn and the panic I have to overcome every time I practice is so real. Not because of the song, but because the walls are paper-thin and I know that my next door neighbours, my upstairs neighbours, my upstairs upstairs neighbours, the people in the backyard next door, and half the street can hear me sing. Taking up space and having a „big“ voice is really really hard after my entire adolescence was divided between a voice teacher who said I wasn’t good enough and wasting my potential and peers who bullied me for liking classical music and „showing off“ when I sang. It’s sad because I’ve finally grown into my voice and I think it’s beautiful. But I’m hoping that if I just keep going and keep doing lessons with my new teacher it’ll eventually get easier.

[enby-mori]

with every new adaptation we learn a little bit more about the Headmaster.

so here's your daily reminder that the Headmaster buried Shibusawa.