#well if they have the same number of points then nobody lives or dies

[hatterstan-shameblog]

if both teams had tied in the jack of clubs would everyone have lived?

[gnomeantics]

for those unable to attend the livestream i present:

NOTES FROM THE HATCHETFIELD HALLOWEEN PARTY 14th October 2023, 01:00 BST (my time!) / 13th October 2023, 17:00 PDT (their time!)

Note: These notes are at times a little nonsensical and useless and just quotes. This is because it lasted from 01:00-04:00 for me meaning I was incredibly tired. Please bear with <3

Section 1: Nerdy Prudes Must Die talkback

Started with chiptune of Feast or Famine and then chiptune of Jane’s A Car

Steph’s dad may be dead but at least she has a boyfriend <3

Joey was eating beef and potato stew for most of the first segment

When Jeff was asked for the inspiration for The Summoning: “[…] I don’t know. That just popped in my head. It could be true.”  (His answer was Wizard of Oz.)

Section 2: Hatchet Town Trivia Challenge

I tried to keep track of “chat vs cast” points but lost count and failed rather miserably

Nora’s last name is Beanie. Nora Beanie

Jeff is “an avid lover of baby-water” (water pure enough for babies to drink) and “widely known as Doctor Spreadsheets” (my notes just say “baseball game”)

Every time the world destroys, Ted dies twice: once as Ted, once as homeless guy

Lex helped deliver Hannah by teleporting her out of the womb through the Black and White

Greenpeace Girl’s name is Harmony Jones!

Wilbur Cross murdered Duke Senior (Duke Keane’s dad) this may be explored in future.

Section 3: Workin’ Boys

All of my “notes” here are just gushing about the characters. I have written nothing useful enough to be put here

Section 4: Workin’ Boys talkback

Chad was not included in WB because it was deemed that nobody could live up to the legend. This spawned the “Darren 4 Chad” movement in chat

The Workin’ Boys album will be out around next week if all goes to plan. It is 5 tracks and would include Mariah’s version of the Show Stoppin’ Number monologue as well as at least some of her singing it (as seen in the show; hoping for a full version!!)

Mariah’s character in the audience was called Woman.

Lauren’s character in the audience was Courtney, Thrash’s girlfriend from Killer Track

Paul Gabriel’s character was Paul Gabriel

Linda Monroe auditioned for Workin’ Girls and was the only one who didn’t get a part (Ruth was chosen over her). This is why she was happy to see it crash and burn

The programmes made for Workin’ Girls had very detailed bios, which hopefully when in full quality will be readable when paused. This may set up the potential for the Workin’ Girls actresses to be in future HF projects where this can be explored

Jaime will hopefully be in the next Starkid musical!!!!

The Black Book was originally supposed to debut in Workin’ Boys, in its original form in 2020

The 2020 version was planned as a feature-length film but eventually it was decided that it was confusing and remodelled.

The Summoning was supposed to be in Workin’ Boys – the producer would have tricked Hidgens into making the girls perform a ritual; it was realised that this didn’t make much sense so the song was transferred to NPMD

Section 5: The Future Of Hatchetfield

Hatchetfield was supposed to be finished by 2020

Starkid is not going to be exclusively Hatchetfield in the future; their next full-length musical will not be Hatchetfield

NMT3 is hopefully going to happen provided there is enough interest! It was supposed to happen in the same year as NMT2 but they take a long time to write (much longer than a full musical) so that couldn’t happen

NMT3 would conclude Lex and Hannah’s story after Yellow Jacket

It would be produced more face to face like a TV show – Nick said “less Zoom call-y”

It would include stories withheld from NMT1 and NMT2

It would entirely depend on how much interest, particularly views on NMT2.

It would be Halloween themed.

“More things akin to Workin’ Boys would be nice” - Nick

The episodes would be:

Bottle Imps

“Bill Woodward has been chosen to test CCRP’s latest and greatest product: Bottle Imps. These reality-bending buddies will bring their owner the one thing they desire most. When his new imp, Lovely, leads him to his soulmate, Bill decides to use his magical companion to play matchmaker. But to help Charlotte find the man of her dreams, Bill will have to bend the Imp’s rules. Rules he’s been warned, must never be broken…”

Frankenruth

“Desperate to see a naked body, Ruth Fleming and Richie Lipschitz volunteer at the morgue of St. Damian’s Hospital. Their terrible plan becomes exponentially more terrible, when they become unwitting subjects in the experiments of the body-snatching madman, Doctor Lazlo, who claims to have conquered death itself. If Hatchetfield thought Ruth was bad before, then they will cower before the unspeakable horror of… Frankenruth!”

Becky Barnes Climbed A Tree

“Becky Barnes is on top of the world! Not in a literal sense, of course. She’s deathly afraid of heights. After years of struggle, Becky’s life is finally everything she dreamed it would be. She’s engaged to her High School sweetheart, Tom Houston, and the two have a surprise baby on the way! But as the couple prepared for the arrival of Baby Marie, a shadow from Becky’s past returns to haunt them.”

Devil’s Night

“Tim Houston has a crush. Unfortunately, it’s on his older, mature, and totally cool babysitter, Grace Chasity, who he fears will never see him as anything but a snot-nosed little kid. But when a devilish maniac with murderous designs on Grace attacks Hatchetfield the night before Halloween, Tim must protect his beloved, or join the killer’s growing body count. It’s another slashing adventure on the night HE came home… Devil’s Night.”

Miss Holloween

“It’s Halloween in Hatchetfield once again, and Miss Holloway is celebrating the same way she’s done for decades, staving off the horrors that go bump in the night. But when Duke gives her an invitation to his wedding, the dejected Miss Holloway begins to chafe under the terms of a contract forged many years ago. She strikes a new bargain, but unfortunately her creditors are known for their tricks, not treats. Just as Miss Holloway gives up her powers in exchange for a mortal life, a monstrous new threat rears its ugly head. As All Hallows Eve descends, and all Hell breaks loose, Miss Holloway must save the town or die trying… for real this time.”

Orbweaver

“Lex Foster had a life once. A home. A boyfriend. Now there is only the road, and her sister, and the fear of the men who are hunting them. As Hannah Foster watches Lex sink deeper into despair, she is certain of only three things: Webby is gone. She cannot help them. They are alone. Elsewhere, an old soldier awakens from a catatonic state. Returned from some unimaginable Hell with a mission. He knows that somewhere two magical girls require immediate evac… then maybe some coffee.”

As NPMD was conceived of first, it was supposed to be a Nerdy Prudes series: Nerdy Prudes Must Die, Horny Campers Must Die… (this was turned into NMT2’s Abstinence Camp)

The next Hatchetfield full-length musical would probably be about Miss Holloway if there was enough interest.

There is the possibility of a full movie set in Hatchetfield if there is enough interest. (Workin’ Boys was like a trial for how Hatchetfield works in film)

It would be called Cast Party Massacre

“The Hatchetfield Community Players. You will never find a cattier troupe of two-faced thespians. But when the blood begins to flow at their latest show’s cast party, they must consider: is there a secret murderer in their midst? And more importantly, who amongst them is a good enough actor to pull off such a performance? Can they set aside their petty squabbles and tangled romances, or is it curtains for this ensemble? Who will survive… the Cast Party Massacre!”

It would possibly feature the girls from Workin’ Boys.

The licencing rights to TGWDLM will be available soon!

[blueishspace]

Last Life with divine domains

Part 4: Session 5 & 6

Fandom

As there weren't many suggestions last time I'll leave this empty and add them to the next part of this series. So @shortystack75 and @easily-distracted-by-fandom don't worry, your ideas will be in the next one.

Session 5

Etho is chosen as the boogeyman, Grian is notified about there being 1 boogey.

Scar has no reason to link anyone except the Southlands being his biggest enemies so he probably links Impulse and Martyn.

Martyn is given 3 rules to choose from: Everyone must play without sounds, Nobody is allowed to enter the nether, everyone must use showels as their main weapon. Martyn chooses the deaf option mostly because the Nether Is useful and using showels as weapons is a pain.

Grian probably still goes after Scott and Pearls villagers even without being a red, mostly because It's too big of an advantage... Meanwhile Cleo is getting her daily arson done by setting the fairy circle on fire... Lizzie summons a storm to estinguish the flames but if you know how minecraft fire works It's hardly enough.

Grian probably doesn't spawn trap Scar though... especially not alone versus a trio.

Etho doesn't buy Bdubs a life so he doesn't get the chance to get a kill on Scar... unless he goes to Scar to get himself a life and then kills him... But that doesn't seem likely.

So, Etho is still the boogey and Martyn is never summoned to the shadow alliance (because of not sharing resources with Ren)

Meanwhile Jimmy's attempt to buy a life from Scar Isn't twarted by Joel and Grian meaning he gets this sessions Scar bonus life... And isn't red anymore... I don't think Jimmy goes back to the Southlanders though considering that the only thing he can give Scar in exchange of a life is an alliance.

Now, Etho needs to get a kill... He's not going to target Bdubs, Skizz or Tango... Really, only magical mountain is really a target at this point so considering Mumbo is more likely to stay somewhere safe I'm going to say Joel dies at this time.

Etho not killing Scar means Skizz doesn't get the enchanter and Scar doesn't chase him to the Southlanders and doesn't die in a trap... However as strong as this version of Magical Mountain is I doubt they can keep the enchanter for this long so by the end of the session BEST has it.

Scott doesn't have the lives to gift Cleo one.

Lives

Scar has 6 lives.

Mumbo, Joel and Tango have 4 lives.

BigB, Etho, Lizzie, Ren, Pearl, Impulse and Scott have 3 lives.

Martyn, Skizz, Jimmy, Cleo, Bdubs and Grian have 2 lives.

Session 6

Mumbo, Joel, Jimmy, Scott, Etho and Bdubs are chosen to be the boogie, Grian discovers there are 6 boogeymen and panics.

Scar chooses... Well, either Southlands or BEST so *randomizer*...Impulse and Martyn.

Martyn has 3 rules to choose from this session: Everyone must set their game language to lolcat. No one is allowed to sprint or shift. One more boogeyman is added to the session. I think he chooses the boogeyman version over having an horrible and painful session because he has no idea there are 6.

Tango is chosen by the randomizer as the extra boogeyman, Grian is going to be very very confused when he realizes he got the wrong number of boogeyman... wonder how Martyn managed to fool Grian's sight.

Tango is equally confused at becoming the boogey after being told he wasn't.

Mumbo can't get his boogey kill in the same way as he isn't with Martyn and Grian when they listen in to team BEST... however Scar definitely goes after the enchanter and while Joel has already decided to target Lizzie Mumbo can use it as an opportunity to get a kill... Etho, Bdubs, Tango and Skizz are all equally likely to die so... Randomizer says Skizz... Skizz is red.

Meanwhile Joel traps Lizzie's base and still much like in canon accidentally kills himself in the process... Scar gives him his one bonus life.

Bdubs kills Tango in this timeline as well to get rid of the boogey curse... Tango of course can still threaten Bdubs like in canon but he also can do something else as he is also a boogeyman, Tango is rarely a fighter and he often has mire bark then bite but this once I'll let him have the satisfaction... I feel like Tango killing Bdubs also makes sense thematically... After all, the hearth is associated with home and family and betrayal is tarnishing that which the hearth stands for.

In our timeline Etho killed Mumbo as his boogey kill in response to him killing Bdubs... So... Etho kills Tango much the same way. Team BEST splits with Etho and Bdubs going on way and Tango going the opposite...and Skizz being a red is also doing his own thing now.

The Southlanders who are spending this whole reason spying on people for some reason use this to steal the enchanter.

Joel still goes out of his way to kill Lizzie.

Impulse and Grian still try to get the wither skulls which eventually leads to Scott killing Impulse... And Martyn going to red.

Scar still dies to Scott's water elevator, there is no reason for that not to happen.

Jimmy is still killed by Lizzie's trap, seeing similar deals made in canon I thinm he is given a life by Scar to stay with Magic Mountain.

If we consider timing Jimmy probably had the time to create his exile red life shack before trading his loyalty to magical mountain so Lizzie still falls into lava.

Joel and Mumbo don't try to kill Scott so he doesn't die by ender pearl this time.

Lives

Mumbo, Scar and Joel have 4 lives.

BigB, Etho, Ren, Pearl and Scott have 3 lives.

Cleo, Jimmy, Tango, Impulse and Grian have 2 lives.

Skizz, Bdubs, Martyn and Lizzie have 1 life.

Fandom

Again, this is going to be me just asking for suggestions... However I want to say that I just now realized that despite being a conman Scar is the most trustworthy and loyal ally in Last Life.

Previous part

Next part

First part

[comicaurora]

How does Aurora's broader cultural/existential relationship with death differ from ours? Since the main thing influencing our view of death is that we don't know what happens when we die, and the Aurora people (Aurorans?) already have a factual explanation for this, would that make them accept death more, or fear it more?

Well, they have a factual explanation, but it isn't quite the same thing as an understanding.

In the real world, we know what happens to our body when we die, and some people find it comforting that the atoms that make them up are going to go into the cycle of growth and rebirth that makes up the planet's ecosystem. We are a concrete, tangible thing, and we know what it means to die.

However, there is a core unanswered question, which is "what part of me makes me me?" I think, therefore I am; I exist, and I am the observer contained within this body. I contain a theoretically infinite inner world of thoughts and imagination and can conceive of worlds beyond number. There is something in me that makes me different from you, that explains why I see the world through these eyes and nobody else's. "The Brain is wider than the Sky, For put them side by side, The one the other will contain With ease, and you beside."

But what is that observer? Where is it in the body? Where does it go when the body dies?

The observer cannot conceive of a world without itself in it, because the observer by its nature only knows the world it has seen.

In the real world, many people call this observer "the soul", an ephemeral and intangible concept. Many attempts have been made to find a physical core that is or holds this ephemeral concept, because we really want it to physically exist. I think, therefore I am, therefore I must be something. In ancient Egypt, the heart was thought to be the seat of consciousness. Nowadays that's how we think of the brain. But the brain is a very complicated thing, and we don't really know what each part of it corresponds to when mapped to the mind, and every time we think we have a solid answer, we learn something new that makes the whole thesis unravel. People who have suffered brain damage or illnesses often have difficulty engaging with the world around them, but if and when they are lucid they are often clearly still themselves - which indicates that their Self, their Observer, isn't just "the brain", because even when the brain is harmed the self persists, just somewhat disconnected from the world, lacking some of the tools it previously had access to that allowed it to engage with its surroundings.

People have tried weighing bodies at the moment of death to see if the soul has a weight (it doesn't) and many theological arguments have debated its existence, because nothing is more fun to argue about than something that can absolutely never be proven one way or another.

Many religions build core tenets around "where does the observer go when the body dies." Reincarnation is a popular concept - because the observer cannot conceive of a world without itself in it, it might find it comforting to believe it could continue to observe the world from new vantage points. Afterlives are another popular idea, the belief that an observer "goes somewhere else" when the body fails. We're not very good at comprehending endings, I think; the way we see the world and the way we engage with our memories can sort of leave us feeling like our past is one big eternal moment, and people we've lost linger forever in our memories - it doesn't always make sense that they simply don't exist anymore, and it's easier for us to think of them as simply Somewhere Else. Somewhere we can't get to, but somewhere. It's why we get so dizzied when we go back somewhere like a childhood home or an old school and find the place refurbished or demolished - it's eternal in our memories, and we don't really understand how it could simply stop existing. How can the world move on without us, when the world we lived in is so clear in our memories? How can a person be gone, when they're so vibrant and alive in our memories?

In Aurora, souls are a concrete thing, a weaving of an energy that is documented, omnipresent and has tangible effects on the world around it. But does that tell an Auroran person where their observer is? Their personhood exists in the latticed weave of an energy that is vaster and older than the world. When they die, the energy unweaves; the pattern is lost, but the energy remains. To my mind, this is no different than how we relate to the atoms that make up our bodies. They're physical, known quantities, but the thing that makes us us is some metaphysical concept contained in the information of how those building blocks are specifically put together. When we die, those atoms do other things; every part of us remains, but we are gone. Where did we go? What is the "we" that is gone?

I don't think the people of Aurora have any more answers than we do about this. Knowing for sure that they have souls doesn't tell them anything more about who they are.

[bluestarlett]

now that it's over

i figured i might as well go out with a bit of a bang and yap about some minor things in Cosmic that actually are really important to the story :]

some spoilers below

first of all, the symbolism of 7!

some of it was unintentional,

HOWEVER.

Cosmic ended with 27 parts.

It started on the 17th and ended on the 17th (exactly one year later mind you), and has 47k words total.

Also, in the final fic, each of the long spaces between deaths are exactly 7 spaces!

Some of this was just unintentionally convenient, however, 7 is Asteria's number.

There is a hierarchical arrangement of the gods, and before Aster is killed, she is the 7th god, with Psyche being 6th and Gaea being 8th. (scylla does not count here. Scylla is not a god.) However, after the ego death (this is what i've titled the incident where gaea, you know, kills her. can you tell im interested in psychoactive culture?) Gaea's placement shifts and he is the 7th god.

So yeah! Lots of importance with the number 7.

SECOND!!!

THIS LINE IS VERY IMPORTANT!!

i cannot stress this enough, NOBODY IN COSMIC IS "good" or "bad". ALL of them fall into a very ambiguous moral category and these lines, aside from being a Chemical Overreaction/Compound Fracture reference, put a lot of subtle emphasis on that!

I say this because Gaea says that 'bad things' will always happen to Aster, meanwhile her ending is, despite what it may seem, very good. Meanwhile, Gaea's situation is. extremely bad. He is being impaled. skewered perhaps.

None of them are meant to be likable characters. Not completely anyway. In the same sense that you must remember that Seraph has cut out Saturn's throat and screamed in Aster's face, you must also remember that at some point Gaea loved Aster. This does not excuse his actions; it does not excuse any of their behaviours.

They do not belong in right and wrong!

Third!!!

The Euthanasia reference is a call back to one of the first Cosmic fics ever! Specifically, the third part in the series!

this callback was actually Always supposed to exist, believe it or not! :]

FOUR!!

Here's a master list of all the song references!

" He breathes into the silence," = Fish in a Birdcage, "As I breathe into our silence, there's a voice that comforts me"

"Like a tune you can’t get into your head," = White Noise "They fill the halls with tunes you can't get into your head"

"The pain echoes through the frame of his body and six feet down" = Venetian Blind Man, "Lord knows I've said awful things in this house, they echo through the frame and 6 feet down"

"watches like a terrified child, unable to fathom the depths of such treachery" = Ballad of Weird Dog, "I can't fathom the depths of your treachery through all history"

"Everybody dies, fighting for their lives." = Euthanasia, "And every, everybody dies, fighting for their lives, just trying to survive"

"She is alone, at the edge of the universe." = Introduction to the Snow, "Alone at the edge of a universe, humming a tune."

" Even in death, his fingers and palms are warm and full of love, even despite the scars." = Language of the Lost, "But these fingers and these palms, full of love despite the scars, show indisputably; I have so much room to grow"

“And I know that it’s selfish. To try and disconnect my hand from the damage it’s brought." = Hospital, "Put in terms I can understand, this wound is all I've got, but I can't disconnect my hand from the damage that it's brought."

“How could you love me? When you should despise me?” = When Somebody Needs You, "And you looked in my eyes and said, 'how dare you love me? When you should despise me, you should be scared of me."

"There you are, you coward." = Get in the Water. Do I have to explain this one?

"This is a fucking nightmare." = an actual Dream reference, shockingly.

"Are you upset, because you’ve finally gotten the notion that you mean nothing?" = Would You Be Impressed, "Now you're upset because you finally got the notion that everything you had is spinning down the drain"

"Nothing to you, maybe. But a broken heart can mend." = God Games, "Tell your lover that a broken heart can mend."

"Always the angel, and never the god. How sad," = Not Strong Enough, "Always an angel, never a god."

"The way that lungs feel as if they’re being smothered, begging that her mind not snap and her heart not break; not now." = Venetian Blind Man, "Mind don't snap and heart don't break, not now; no, not like this, any but this breakdown!"

"as if you haven’t spent an eternity screaming for a life you can not ever have." = BIGSHOT, "I'm screaming for a life that I cannot have!"

“Ever waits for me." = Time Machine Reprise, "Oh, live the dream in a time machine, I've been waiting forever; now I know ever waits for me."

"Your maze has been replaced with the door that you asked for," = But Never A Key, "Gone are the days where you're endlessly racing towards Pavlov's reward, now your maze is replaced by the locked door you asked for."

"when you’ve never slept a night in your life." = My Goodbye, "What's a title that a goddess could lend if I'll never sleep at night?" + We'll Be Fine, "Life could be that bright, I could sleep at night"

"Bad things happen to good people. That’s the unfortunate truth of the world, Atlas." “And good things happen to you.” = Chemical Overreaction/Compound Fracture, "Bad things happen to good people, good things happen to... me." (bonus, "He lunges at her with the force of a chemical overreaction")

"Not after He shoved her into the water, and she fought her way back to the surface and carried herself to land." = BIRTH OF VENUS, "Learned how to breathe underwater while my lungs begged me for air, I fought my way to the surface and carried myself to land."

"She will not die again. She will live forever, at least tonight." = Dream + Introduction to the Snow, "We will not die" + "You'll live forever tonight."

"I am sorry you’ll never be free." = But Never A Key, "Lo, that's the way that it goes; I'm sorry you'll never be free."

"the only thing that matters within deep, dark sound." = Stranded Lullaby, "A million moments meant remembered rest in deep, dark sound."

"they have disappeared like smoke and she is alone." = Race, "then it disappears like smoke, and you're alone."

"Perhaps that’s what it means when somebody needs you." = When Somebody Needs You, "Well it seems that that is what it means, when somebody needs you."

"She is twined in Mind, in Soul and in Heart." ...obvious.

“Can you believe we really made it?” “Obviously not.” = Becoming the Lastnames, "Crack a smile at my vows and whisper, 'wow, can you believe we really made it?' As I give up on dodging rice and fold my cape, I say 'obviously not.'"

"despite the loose ends which have been crudely tied" = Loose Ends, no lyric.

"suspended in such an impossible kind of bliss" = White Ball, "such impossible bliss."

"all of the else fades away." again, obvious.

"But her thoughts are not who she is. They are white noise." = White Noise, "I know it's hard, but they're not who you are. They're white noise."

I'll add more to this later, but rn im sleepy as fuck

[blood-n-candy]

The Birth of a Monster

Fandom: Pressure

Summary: The endless cycle of dying and salvaging crystals is changing you... And for the worse

WARNING: THIS FIC CONTAINS (ALTHOUGH NOT GRAPHICAL) CRUEL KILLING OF A BABY SQUIDDLE! DO NOT GET MAD AT ME IF YOU GET DISTURBED, I WARNED YOU!!!

Look at you… Standing in the empty hallway of an underwater containment facility.

You’ve been staring at the door in front of you for quite a while now. 

You’re supposed to go forward, to carry out your task.

But you don’t feel like it. You’ve been doing this for so long. You know you’ll probably do this until the end of time.

From a long time ago, you came to realize that you are trapped.

You went from serving prison on a sentence you do not remember anymore, to serving as a “crystal snatcher” for Urbanshade. What could’ve condemned you to this predicament? You’ve been asking yourself for quite a while, yet you cannot find an answer.

Now, you did secure Z-001, you did it multiple times by now: every small cut you can count on your left forearm represents a successful escape, each of them adding themselves automatically. And yet, every single time you woke up again in that dormitory at HQ, as if all of your progress had been resetted. 

In fact, you actually did save the Hadal Blacksite, but it was just one of the billions of Hadal Blacksites that exist: billions of underwater facilities that periodically get compromised, so that millions of expendables like you can run around and be slaughtered every hour of the day and night.

Perhaps the others are in the same boat as well, capable of reviving at lightning speeds and forced to live under the same cycle. But at this point, it doesn’t matter: that means nobody can help you get out, after all.

Death. Death is pretty much meaningless in this sisyphean hell you’re in. Death, here in the Hadal Blacksite, is not an escape.

You have died countless times, trying to secure those crystals. You have seen it all: hungry anglers rushing through the corridors, sharks frying your brain in seconds, AIs using you as target practice... You know each copy of each entity like the back of your hand, even if sometimes you die by them as if you’ve never seen them before.

Even if you’ve been told to “forgive them, for they are only animals”, you’ve been harboring nothing but hatred for them. Yes, your “friend” Sebastian too.

Your unbreakable saṃsāra does not foresee an end to your loneliness, at least in a way that can let you have friends.

By now, your frozen heart is filled with resentment and a desire for retaliation. You can feel it’s…

…It’s rotting away who you once were

Yes. It’s consuming you. 

You barely remember who you were before the arrest, what you enjoyed, who loved and cherished you. 

Your name… You forgot your name, haven’t you? Or is that string of letters and numbers on your jumpsuit your only name now? 

As for what you can see… Try to remember the last time you looked at yourself in a mirror, a window of the Blacksite, or just any reflective surface for that matter: Were you keeping your head low? Were your eyes depleted of any spark of hope? Did you feel just as disgusting to look at as the monsters hunting you down every day?

That’s what I thought: you are tired of being the prey, you are inching closer to joining the predators of the depths. You’ll develop your weapons, eventually, but you must practice your hunting skills first…

Ah! Look what is crawling right in front of you: a miniature black mass, shaped like… A Squiddle! How many times have those fuckers jumpscared you again? Far too many. And for a monster in the making like you, they’re nothing but target practice. Even better when they’re small and young, when they cannot run away fast enough or fight back.

Grab the baby Squiddle… Good. See how it squirms in your grasp, how it pathetically attempts to generate a “scary face” to drive you away… It’s nothing but a bunch of incoherent white lines, far from resembling even an eye.

I wonder how fine of a meal it could make, how tender its pitch black flesh could be… And you? You don’t also wish to find out what a Squiddle tastes like?

Go on, open those jaws wide…

A squeak of pain, a wet splat followed by black goo smearing your face and hand… And the little freak is dead in your mouth. With your teeth, you rip off a piece and start chewing. Its flesh has a gummy consistency, almost like eating an octopus-flavored marshmallow. The aforementioned black liquid is a mixture of blood and squid ink, it adds a salty taste to your meal.

Truly, a delicacy you wish to have discovered earlier. And to think you resorted to feed on Wall Dwellers until now…

You see the lights flicker, the well-known sign something’s coming towards you. You spot a door, the kind that leads to side office rooms and hide you away from your enemies. You quickly enter and sit behind a desk: you are going to finish your meal in peace, and no giant angler fish shall dare to interrupt you.

Perhaps, someday… the angler will become the meal itself.

[maverick-prime]

fanfiction is worth way more than you might think it is. here's why.

something i don't think anybody ever talks or thinks about is how fanfic helps writers develop incredibly useful skills and tools in the same way that prompts, worksheets, and studying literature does. (i actually think it's much more accessible than many of those types of supposedly helpful methods to build good writing skills. fanfiction makes the possibilities limitless while building upon media that people love and really connect with. you can find whatever you want if you use the right tags in AO3.) to illustrate exactly what i mean, i present these points:

*NOTE: if you're not familiar with fanfic terms, i'll define them as i go! i'm also an AO3 user, so i'll be using that as a basis for a lot of my thoughts.

it’s a really helpful way to get a grasp of how to keep characters consistent in a piece, since you have to work with characters that already have established personalities, backstories, habits, and character traits that carry over from their source material. this can get a bit tricky when writing AUs (alternate universes) or canon divergences (hopefully self-explanatory) in particular, but if you acknowledge that characters are OOC (out of character), this can solve that issue pretty quickly and as long as you make everything make sense within context, you're golden. not only that, but you can fix any flaws that you perceive in a character by adding in your own headcanons (personal ideas/beliefs about a character) or by creating realistic traits in that character that don't exist in canon but make sense for the character. this also works for expanding upon canon traits that are never explored to their full potential in canon.

a great example of this would be tony stark in the MCU. a lot of fanfic interpretations of his character put a stronger focus on his anxiety and PTSD, since the movies hint at those traits existing, but don't do them a lot of justice. another good example that's a bit more broadly applicable is LGBT+ or neurodivergent headcanons. if you really identify or kin with a character and feel that they have a certain orientation, gender identity, or mental disorder/condition, you can make it happen! this often has the great side effect of opening up a lot of possibilities for writing those traits into that character and how they affect the world and other characters around them differently than in canon.

you can think of an almost infinite amount of different scenarios to put characters and story events in. i mentioned AUs and canon divergences above, but there are also fanfic tropes like everybody lives/nobody dies, kidfic, time loop/time travel, role swap, missing scene, and even omegaverse (i'm not explaining that one to you, you're on your own pal) that offer different possibilities for putting characters and story events in all sorts of circumstances and contexts that differ from canon. (continuity soups are one of my very favorite examples of this technique. in a continuity soup, an author working with a franchise that has multiple different continuities can cherry-pick aspects of each continuity they like and smash them all together into a single world. this technique works especially well with transformers, which has, at this point, almost a dozen different continuities that are in fact all canon at the exact same time.) a writer doing this learns how to translate certain necessary story events into a completely different world, or can come up with a whole new world, storyline, or context on their own to play with plot, conflict, characters, and story events.

there are a near-limitless number of AUs out there, and every AU that is widely used comes with its own set of tropes. tropes are another useful tool for writers, because they can either be cliche or they can actually be very helpful for building a compelling plot or for introducing characters in a certain way. there are even fanfic genre tropes that exist, like hurt/comfort, fluff, whump/angst, slow burn, enemies to lovers, dead dove do not eat, crackfic... the list goes on!

writers who have difficulty writing things like romance, intimacy, emotional turmoil, injuries, sci-fi, or magic can easily learn a lot from how different fic writers write those topics (and many others). there are tons of fics that focus a lot on one specific genre and whose authors have developed a really great understanding of how to write those genres. not only can you learn a lot in terms of how to write genre, but you can also learn to develop your own writing style. this is one of the reasons why i think fanfiction is a lot more accessible than traditional books and classics. sure, you could read danielle steel novels or fifty shades of grey (which is itself fanfiction!!) or 1984 by orson welles, but unless you're really invested in the worlds being created, you'll find it harder to appreciate the prose. and, a lot of fic writers are not professional writers, so they don't even care about prose! (this is a broad generalization, and i mean "prose" in a more academic sense because i am literally studying rhetoric and prose for my bachelor's degree. not a lot of fic authors are breaking down writing styles for dialogue, diction, or sentence structure. they just write what they love writing and often develop their own styles out of that, which is also just as valid.)

i myself have definitely not been reading as many books in recent years as i've read fanfics. i go through fanfics like wildfire through a dry field. finding fic authors i love reading has really helped me improve my writing style! not only that, but i feel confident to try writing real romances with kissing scenes, to use actual scientific language to describe in-text phenomena, to describe magical objects and worlds with more clarity, and even to try my hand at writing smut. i've learned to break out of my comfort zone thanks to fanfiction, and it's helped me become a much better writer.

developing a writing style through reading other authors' work is much like developing an art style. any artist knows that you're encouraged to create your own style by mashing together traits from other artists' styles you really love and making them into something that's wholly your own. writing works the exact same way. one of my professors last semester had us do an "apprenticeship" with a short story collection written by a certain author to open us up to styles we like and don't like. she said that's how you create your own style, by figuring out what you like and what you don't like. i've been doing this with fic authors for years, and let me tell you, there are some real literary geniuses out there.

fanfiction helps writers learn to accept criticism as well as suggestions for what to write next. one of the hardest parts of being a writer is having someone read your work and tell you there's something wrong with it. your peers do it, your professors do it, editors do it, publishers do it. i've had the great privilege of participating in multiple writing workshops as part of my university education, but it can be really, really hard to find or create writing workshops outside of an academic setting. sites like AO3 cut out the middleman and bring authors right to their audiences. anyone can leave kudos on a fic if they liked it, and anyone can comment on a fic and chat directly with an author. i know for a fact that most authors regularly check and read the comments sections on their fics for feedback, criticism, and requests for what to write next. you can't necessarily do that with big-time authors like stephen king; you’d have to send a letter that may never be read.

the closest thing this system of interaction comes to is voice actors hopping on twitch streams and taking requests from viewers to say all kinds of things in-character. (this actually has the added benefit of inspiring new and interesting fic ideas.) the community on AO3 is genuinely one of the most accepting and welcoming internet spaces i've ever existed in, with possibly the exception of tumblr. fic authors really value feedback, and they love when people leave comments. sometimes they write fic just for themselves, but sometimes they do it for their audiences too! there's a really deep appreciation for source material and fanon (fan canon) alike in the world of fanfiction, and a lot of that is fostered in the author-audience connection. this is invaluable as a beginning writer, because it can help establish criticism as a valuable tool and not something to fear.

it can be scary when you put so much love into something and people don't like it. but fic readers are some of the most encouraging, wonderful people ever. you can trust them to offer valuable feedback and actually constructive criticism.

in short, fanfiction is a bit like placing a kid into a sandbox that only has a select few toys in it and letting them play however they want. so much creativity can come out of working within certain restraints, and it can really help you develop a lot of skill you might not develop otherwise. more aspiring writers should write—or at least read—fanfiction so they can reap some of these benefits. i wish it were more widely discussed in universities, at the very least, because there is so much to learn from fanfiction.

and if you really think fanfiction is only for gross internet weirdos, i remind you of fifty shades of grey being fanfic of twilight, or that city of bones, the first mortal instruments book, was originally a ginny/draco fanfic. i don't even need to mention the sheer number of more recently published romcom books that are based off of reylo from the star wars sequels. plus, if you really think about it, most modern shakespeare adaptations and homages (10 things i hate about you, leo dicaprio's romeo and juliet, the lion king) are fanfiction! there's no shame in making media of what you love. there's no shame in loving anything in the first place. do what makes you happy, and chances are you'll learn something along the way.

[ofdragonsdeep]

21: Shade

A place sheltered from the sun.

Ar'telan seeks a place away from the Light to think on the future

Not for the first time, Ar'telan was alone with his thoughts.

It was difficult to find space for that in Slitherbough. Out of necessity, most likely - anyone off on their own was easier prey for the Sin Eaters, and given the losses they had suffered recently, it was no suprise they had tightened things up. Ar'telan was not particularly at risk from the Sin Eaters, at least not in the numbers he'd seen so far, and so he had taken himself out of the village and into the wood.

Geographically, Rak'tika seemed equivalent to Gridania, but the forests could not be more different. The huge, soaring trees felt far more homey than Gridania ever had to him, those that grew around aetherically-charged stones giving him a moment of hope that something akin to his people's sacred trees could be found on the First. They had been meaningless, though. And the First's equivalent of Meracydia had long since been lost to the Flood of Light.

So far, people had dodged the question. Very few still living remembered anything of the time before the Flood, and those that did had not been well-travelled. It was gone, a void of cultural memory that would never be reclaimed, bleached white by the all-consuming Light.

He looked down at his hands, wondering if he might see the light beneath his skin.

Nobody had said anything. Nobody ever said anything. But Y'shtola had looked at him and seen a monster, and no amount of dancing around the subject could hide that from him.

His feet took him through the forest, past the living trees and haunted pots and bloodthirsty flytraps, towards the lake. At one point, it had been sacred to the empire that ruled the lands in days past. Now, it was a submerged bog choked with plantlife and belligerent fish. The latter, to Ar'telan, felt preferable.

He dove down into the water, taking a moment for his eyes to adjust to the murk, and swam between the roots of the gigantic tree in the lake's centre. He pressed his hands against the bark, just in case, but the tree didn't answer, just like he'd expected.

He could see ruins in the distance, buildings that had once stood tall above the water. Ronkan, he supposed. Just like their empire, its works had toppled to time eventually, and he had no desire to explore them. He let himself sink down to the mud, a few curious fish swimming up to him and nibbling at his hair, and considered things.

The Exarch's plan had been simple, on paper. Find someone with protection from the Light and a soul dense enough to handle it, and have them slay the Lightwardens. Impossible on the First, their souls being thinner than those from the Source, and so he had looked across the Rift to solve the problem. And what better to protect against the Light than the Blessing it gave?

Ar'telan was not stupid. The first Lightwarden hadn't hurt, but it had felt wrong. A chilling, stilling aether, creeping across his soul and settling in the cracks when it could not overwhelm. It had not gone anywhere, it was still there, inside him. And the second, horrible though it had been to fight someone so close to lucid and so very insane, had made the burden feel heavy. No change, of course. No change.

But there were three more.

He had set his teeth against the cold when Titania had died, and let it seep in. When whatever misbegotten wraith heralded the Light here fell, he would do the same thing again. But it would start to hurt, soon enough, like frostbite setting in to unprotected fingers. Three more. The odds were not favourable.

He wondered if it felt the same for everyone else. If the numbing cold was what had robbed Halric of his emotion. If the freezing stillness had sparkled Tesleen's thrashing and moaning at Holminster Switch, still enough of her left to protest, but not to persist. If Titania, after they had stood victorious for Il Mheg, had felt the cold set in, and had but a few moments left to realise what it meant.

He knew what it felt like to die. He had died in the fires of Lahabrea's ambition, and it had hurt so much his senses had stopped registering the signals. He had died to the Echo, again and again, in so many ways, but they were always violent. Always quick. The Echo could not save you from something long and drawn-out. Not his, at least.

He looked down at his hands again. They were the same as ever.

He was lucky, in a way. There would be a point, and he would know the point, he thought, where the next drop would be one too many. He would know how many Lightwardens were left, and he would have the power to make a decision.

One life for one world, Ardbert had said, almost a year hence. Stood across from him on the field of battle, desperate for something, anything, to save his world. One hero. What worth was one hero against an entire people?

He wrapped his fingers into a fist.

He did not particularly want to die. He had seen some horrible things, and lived through events that would haunt him until the day he did pass into the aetherial sea, but he did not want to. There were people who would miss him, people who would hurt the same way he had hurt when he had watched his friends die. And he would leave a heavy mantle for whoever came after. Someone else, still hopeful, still untouched by the fire that licked at the heels of everyone the star called hero.

One life for one world.

He had access to something that nobody else did. He could feel the tug of the Rift in the back of his head, that void between worlds he had swum through to reach the First. If push came to shove, he could cast himself into it without much difficulty. It would take the Light that threatened and neutralise it, and if it tore him apart, it would hurt no-one else.

He did not want to die.

But he was faced with a choice. This Lightwarden would not be over-taxing, most likely. The next would either hurt, or it would settle into that absence that somehow scared him more. If he was lucky, it would be stable, though likely uncomfortable. And if the last one overwhelmed him…

One life for one world.

It felt decidedly strange, to be sat at the bottom of a lake considering his own demise. There had been points in his life where he would not have minded dying. Points in his life where he had kept living only because it was the path of least resistance. He would not have hesitated to leap into the Rift back then, charging blindly forward, doing his duty. But he wasn't that man any more, and all of his friends knew it.

And not one of them had mentioned it.

He couldn't talk to them about it, of course. It ached to think about, to carry that burden to what might be a lonely grave, to have made that choice and to hold onto it in silence. But if they knew, they'd talk him out of it, or they'd try to. They'd offer solutions that wouldn't work, because if there had been a chance of it, the Exarch would have turned to that, rather than pull someone between worlds to save them.

There would be things he had to do. Arrangements to make, if he were afforded a moment. Letters to write, since he could not speak of it now. All kinds of-

His linkpearl chimed, tinny in the water surrounding him, and he shook his head and raised one finger to his ear.

"Ar'telan? It's Y'shtola. They've sighted Eulmorrans."

He made a single noise of confirmation, tapping twice on the linkpearl so she knew he'd heard. He could have teleported back to Slitherbough, but it would do no good to arrive in the town square covered in chickweed and dirty water. Carefully, aware for the possibility that the soldiers might be patrolling the lake, he swam to the surface, and pulled himself onto land.

Ruminating could wait. For how dour the future seemed, there was yet strength in his arms, and it would do him no good not to use them.

[sixminutestoriesblog]

poppies

In Flanders Fields the poppies grow

Between the crosses, row on row,

That mark our place; and in the sky

The larks, still bravely singing, fly

Scarce heard amid the guns below.

In Flanders Fields by John McCrae

I have always found the excerpt above, and the rest of the poem that comes after it to be pleasant to the ear, sweetly melancholic and, to be honest, more than a little creepy once you hit the threat at the end. The mental image of mostly desiccated World War I soldiers clawing their way out of the upturned soil, spilling flecks of half rotted uniform and red flowers from their bodies as they drag themselves forward after me just because I don't feel like holding a grudge against another country for a war nobody really should have been in in the first place isn't exactly what I suspect Lt. Col. McCrae was going for but its sure the picture he painted in my mind. Not cool, John. Not cool.

In other news, the poem did help make the poppy a popular symbol for war veterans that died in battle, especially overseas. These days red paper poppies are worn in jacket lapels and sold on street corners in multiple Western countries during Remembrance Day, Anzac Day and Memorial Day. Today that's pretty much the only association most of us have with the flowers but for the soldiers that lived during that time, the red corn poppies were a familiar sight, being some of the first and hardiest plants to grow in the churned up soil around trenches, the morass of no-mans-land between and yes, the freshly dug graves that grew almost as quickly as the poppies themselves across the battlefields.

Poppies were associated with the dead long before WWI however.

Hey, August babies! Let's talk about one of your birth month flowers (and keeping corpses in their graves)!

Did you know that poppies have been found in graves and carved on tombstones all the way back to Roman times? The Greeks and the Romans associated the poppy with forgetfulness and sleep. Giving the dead poppies was supposed to help them sleep in peace, though I did see one article speculating that the poppy seeds found in some graves was more akin to the old legend that the undead have obsessive-compulsive disorder and will be compelled to stop whatever they are doing to count scattered small items like seeds.

GIF by gifs-of-puppets

Who knew Sesame Street was so in touch with its darker side?

Back to the point, the Greek gods Hypnos (sleep), Thanatos (death), Nyx (night) and Morpheus (dreams) all have poppies as their flowers. Pappa means 'milk' in latin and the milky sap as well as the seeds of poppies have been used since ancient times to grant forgetfulness, peace and sleep, tracing as far back as the early Egyptian empires. Multiple opioids are made from the poppy with some of the most famous being opium, heroin, codeine and morphine, named after Morpheus for its dreamlike effect on the human brain and body. The opioid crisis has been with us since at least Victorian times and for many of the same modern reasons back then as well.

Speaking of escape from pain, Demeter, the goddess of agriculture, is associated with poppies as well. It was said that after Persephone was kidnapped by Hades, Demeter was so distraught that the gods gave her poppy seeds to help her sleep and escape her grief for a time. Afterward, the flower would spring up wherever her footsteps fell. The ancient Assyrians also associated poppies with agriculture and in fact, even today, poppies seen growing in cornfields are considered lucky and a sign of a good harvest to come.

Poppies in China are also considered lucky, or at least the smell of them is and they are a melancholic symbol between lovers too. The story I read claims that the poppies growing on his lover's grave gave a Chinese hero the inspiration he needed in battle.

The Wonderful Wizard of Oz employed a poppy field to put its heroes to sleep.

Poppies should only ever be given in bouquet of thirteen. Any other number of poppies is considered unlucky.

Greek athletes would mix poppy seeds, wine and honey for an invigoration drink.

In Wales, sleeping with poppy seeds under your pillow will show you the face of your future lover or give you the answer to whatever question you were thinking of when you fell asleep. The seeds are a ward against forgetfulness.

[9leaguesofmirrors]

The Dinner (a Ross Gaines x Joseph Lisgoe fanfic)

I mentioned in one of my Random Inside No. 9 Thoughts posts that I had a concept of Viktor (Reece's character in Once Removed) and Lisgoe being cousins. Well, I decided to indulge in it a bit and write something that explores that dynamic

There were only two ideas that truly terrified Ross Gaines:

Firstly, it was the idea that, after he was gone, there would be knowledge that he wouldn't be able to obtain. That the world will continue to go through developments that he would never experience

The second, far more terrifying, thought was that, at some point, he would have to meet Lisgoe's family

So, when his partner came home saying his cousin was visiting, something decided on without Ross' knowledge, he very nearly locked him out of the house

"He asked if we were free and I said yes, he invited himself over!"

"And I was under the impression that we would make that decision together, now I have a matter of hours to prepare for-"

"Don't worry about that shite, he'll be here in half an hour."

That wasn't the assurance Lisgoe thought it was

"Joseph, I swear to god-"

"It's not a big deal, he's my cousin, not the King of fucking England. Just act like he's one of your co-workers, as long as you don't bore him with spreedsheets and shite."

Ross went to protest, but was cut off by Lisgoe pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. It didn't make things better, but he decided to drop the argument before it ended with one of them going through the window

"As long as he doesn't bring your parents."

"Not a chance, my dad's dead and my mam's busy."

"Shame, I'd quite like to meet her. I'll bet she'd have a heart attack when she finds out what her son's doing for work."

A smug smile graced Lisgoe's face and he cleared his throat, as if preparing for some kind of show

"Damn it, Joseph!" He imitated what looked like a short, very Northern woman "If you're going for the jugular, swipe up! Not across! Swiping across means more blood spatters to clear up!"

He broke the act with a bark of laughter, which Ross couldn't help but chuckle at

"She sounds like quite the woman."

"More of a cow than I am! She's a landlord."

*********************************************

When the door rang later that day, Ross went to answer it. He smoothed out his collared shirt before opening the door

What he was met with was a blond man in a smart felt coat. He seemed polite, but Ross couldn't help but feel slightly unnerved by him. Like there was something going on behind the scenes, so to speak

"You must be my cousin's boyfriend." His voice was gentle, yet direct. Polite but no-nonsense "I'm Viktor, I believe he mentioned me?"

"Ross. And he's my partner."

"Same thing."

Ross extended his hand, but Viktor walked right past and into the living room. As if he already lived here

Ross knew he was either going to really like him, or loathe him intensely

*********************************************

They ate dinner, at first, in silence. Ross had prepared the meal, despite Lisgoe's several attempts to change things

"Judging by the fact none of us have keeled over and died," Viktor said "I assume Ross made this?"

"Don't fucking start." Lisgoe pointed his fork at him as if he were planning to attack "I didn't invite you here to start a fight."

"Take a joke, Joe."

"I will throw this meatball right at your head!"

"Can we please be civil today?" Ross sighed, starting to regret sitting himself in the middle "I don't want to be playing peacekeeper all day."

Once again, nobody spoke for a few minutes. It was Ross that broke the silence

"So, what do you do?"

"I'm part of an agency, we help those in desperate need of immediate support-"

"He gets hired to kill people."

"Thank you, Joe." Viktor glared at his cousin "I was getting to that."

Ross couldn't help but wonder what the family resemblance of these two was. They seemed to be polar opposites from their looks to the way they spoke and behaved

"Ask him about house numbers."

"Piss off!"

Ah, there it was

"What's this about house numbers?"

"Joe, don't tell him."

"He once mistook a 6 for a 9 because someone unscrewed it to fuck with him." Lisgoe explained, clearly enjoyed the annoyed look on his cousin's face "Nevermind the housing order went '4, 5, 9, 7, 8, 9' because he clearly can't fucking count."

"You're such an ass." Viktor muttered under his breath

"Not my fault you failed Year 7 Maths!"

"If I recall correctly, I'm not the one that got short-changed because someone outsmarted me and managed to cheat me out of £100."

"Fuck you, that was one time! And I beat the rest of the money out of him as soon as I realised what happened!"

"Which was halfway down the road." He turned to Ross "He had to drag his sorry backside about half a mile back."

The thought of his partner making such a foolish error put a slight smile on Ross' face, which seemed to make Lisgoe's mood worse

"You've picked well," Viktor told his cousin "Ross seems like a good man. Well-mannered, nice to look at-"

"Keep your eyes and your hands to yourself."

"Am I not allowed to make observations?"

"Not about my fucking partner, no."

"I meant nothing by it. I'm very much a heterosexual."

Ross was supressing a disbelieving laugh, which Viktor hadn't yet noticed. Lisgoe was barely holding it together

"I think it's normal for a man to acknowledge another man's good traits, it doesn't make them a homosexual-"

"What about owning a collection of silk dressing gowns?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"I went snooping last time I went round," Lisgoe told Ross "I open one of his drawers and there's just a load of silky nightgowns."

"Don't listen to him, Ross, my cousin's a liar and a prick."

It was at this point that Ross realised this is what having two teenage sons was like, he massaged his temples

*********************************************

"Well then," Ross said once he'd shut the door behind Viktor "I can't say it wasn't an eventful dinner." He made his way to the living room, where Lisgoe was sat, and leant against the doorframe "You didn't seem impressed."

"It went fine, Viktor and I just argue like brothers. Mam was always on our asses for it."

There was a moment of pause where Lisgoe looked as though he was trying to say something. Ross sat beside him and waited patiently

"Remember when that phonebook of yours only had two numbers in it? Work and your mam?"

"Yes."

"Well, that was me for a long time. All I had was my mam and my cousin. Dad was a bastard, Viktor's mam was a bitch and the rest of the family didn't talk to us. That's why the whole 'meeting the family' shite took a while. I didn't have much family for you to meet." Lisgoe stared at the wall "Viktor and I were always a bit of a duo, two horrible bastards against the world's bullshit. We just kinda... went seperate for a bit. Jobs and shite."

For a moment, Ross was quiet. He didn't quite know how to respond to it; not what Lisgoe had said exactly, but more the fact that he'd so willingly unlocked that part of himself. It didn't feel burdensome or painful, the air wasn't tense, it was as if he'd given a part of himself that he simply didn't need to hold onto anymore. Like taking off an extra layer when the sun came out

It was clear that Lisgoe felt like he'd said too much, because the subject was quickly changed

"I wish he wouldn't call me Joe," Lisgoe muttered, leaning back against the sofa "it's a fucking stupid name. And he knows that, but he keeps doing it."

"I think Joe suits you," Ross had a smug look on his face "it's sweet."

Lisgoe responded with a sarcastic smile and his middle finger, which cause Ross to let out a triumphant chuckle

"Didn't expect you to open up to me like that."

"Don't talk about it." Lisgoe said firmly "I feel like a right twat for spilling my guts like that."

"You're not one of those. Well, not at the moment. You were one when you made plans with your cousin without telling me, and you'll definitely be one at some point tomorrow. But, right now, you're not."

Ross watched as his partner's face contorted into a mischevious grin - and he knew exactly what was coming

"No."

"What am I not, Ross?"

I'm not saying it."

"Come on, you're quoting me. That doesn't count as swearing."

"Yes, it does."

Rolling his eyes slightly, Lisgoe leaned in to kiss him. His hand rested on his cheek and his teeth nipped Ross's lower lip gently

"He takes after you," Ross murmured between the kiss "Joe."

"Shut the fuck up." Came the response from against his neck "Don't start with that."

"Would you rather I called you by your middle name, Nigel?"

The retort that followed was Lisgoe dragging his tongue up Ross's neck, causing him to recoil in disgust and glare at his laughing partner

"Don't do that, you're not a dog."

Lisgoe, naturally, did it again. Which resulted in him getting smacked in the back of the head

"Joseph, I'm warning you."

"Come on, dickhead, what are you gonna do?"

"OK, now you're acting like a twat."

"Knew you'd say it eventually." Lisgoe kissed him again, harder this time "It's too easy."

Ross didn't feel much need to reply

A/N: Hnnnnnngh I can't write Viktor to save my goddamn life, I haven't watched Once Removed in a while but I remember snippets??? Anyway, sorry to the Viktor stans, he probably wasn't the best but I hope he didn't suck too bad

[midnightfire830]

In the Ghost au, did cuphead and mugman live the entire story (Inky Mystery)? If so how did the Questers, the House, the circus crew, and Cannikin handle it? Large number of ppl XD

Live the entire story? I assume this is a typo or maybe I’m just dumb and can’t decipher what you mean. I mean, in IM cuphead and mugman are alive as of date so ghost au cupbros would be too. But I’m guessing the second question is your main question?

So! I’ll tell you HOW they found out AND their thoughts on it.

Bendy found out during Cup’s rampage after “Mugshots” (you know what I’m referring to). During his rampage he was switching between consciousness for so long I’m going to assume that maybe he was constantly flickering between forms with no real control. So Bendy would see him switching. Bendy would be super confused and bewildered at the moment but he’d push it off in order to get Cuphead to the hospital and moving on their quest. Later as the cupbros join the quest Bendy would ask for some more details. He would try his best not to pry and leave it as Cup’s buisness, sure that if there was something he NEEDED to know, Cup would tell him in his own time. Plus he’d try not to judge because he knows a lot about people giving him crap for be a demon. So he gets it. Eventually he becomes so chill with it he and Cup oftentimes joke and tease about it. A lot of pranks and a LOT of puns.

Felix and Boris would find out at about the same time while they were fighting Cala in the mountains. Cuphead integrates his fighting with his ability to turn into a ghost by flying around and phasing to avoid blows, that sort of thing. It becomes such an ingrained thing that he does it without thinking about the questers seeing him. So of course Felix and Boris would see.

Boris would be super freaked out, really confused, and really really worried. He most likely thought that Cuphead had died just then and there and panicked. After the fight, and some explanations he’d calm down a lot. He’d still be unnerved about it and concerned, but he’d also think it was super cool. Felix would be fascinated and ask a billion questions.

Holly would accidentally stumble upon turning Cuphead into a ghost. She was in the wrong place at the wrong time. (Or maybe she was staking, nobody will ever know). She immediately drilled him with questions. Cup would be cold and curt with her quesitons and not share too much about it, but still answer a few questions, and Holly would back off. But his silence didn’t stop the brewing ideas, theories, and questions she had.

With Alice, maybe Cuphead would casually mention it in conversation? Like they were talking about him previously getting hurt and he’d say “Well, usually I just turn ghost so I don’t bleed out and to last longer…” Alice would stop short at that and ask for a clarification. Cuphead, realizing he never told her, explained the situation, or whatever all the other questers know, to keep her up to date. Her healer side would immediately flare up and she’d be super worried about him, she’d lightly prod with a few questions and how it worked, and then just casually talk about it. Generally she’s ok with it, as long as Cup isn’t actively being hurt or anything. Maybe a bit of pity for him literally dying and being brought back to life. Also puns. Ghost puns galore.

I think the people in the House in general would slowly find out one by one. He doesn’t really keep it a secret, he just doesn’t talk about it much. He’d just, drift into the room in ghost form and scare the ever loving crap out of the residents of the house. Oddswell would have questions. Red would just roll her eyes annoyed that she’d have to deal with this now. Granny would be very concerned for Cuphead but accept it nonetheless. Jerry would absolutely HATE it. Cup definitely abused his powers to prank Jerry so many different times. At some point there’s definitely a bunch of house rules like “No ghosting while someone’s cooking in the kitchen” specifically for Cuphead.

Mickey would find out while he’s invisible snooping around the house during Nightmare Night. He’d just see cuphead turn into a ghost right in front of him. He’d be a little spooked, a little curious, but he’s definitely seen weirder things so he isn’t bothered by it.

Oswald found out on the train to the Far West. Probably snuck up on a cuphead and spooked him and Cup turned to his ghost form out of instinct. It definitely startled Oswald and we was absolutely speechless when he saw it happen. Eventually he’d get over his shock and be cool with it. He later on probably teases cup for it.

I don’t think Donald and Goofy would know about it. Maybe Donald while they’re in the labyrinth. If he did Donald would either be shocked and surprised (in a zany way I guess). Or he couldn’t care less. “Oh great. The guy with a cup for a head can turn into a ghost. Whoop-de-cussing-do.” Either way later on he really doesn’t give two cusses about it.

I’m not sure if the bunny kids would know. If they did though, it would be when they dragged Cup and Bendy off to do Oswald’s dare. Cup would turn into a ghost and try to run away and Mugs/or maybe Ozzy would whip out a spray bottle of salt water and shoot him out of the air. Cup would be forced into his normal form again and fall flat on his back left to the billions of bunny children who’d ask billions more questions.

I think that covers everyone. Let me know if I missed anyone or if there was someone else you wanted a reaction from. ☝️

Thanks for the ask!!

[amarantine-amirite]

Foresight And Foot-In-Mouth

I woke to throbbing pain, pointy branches on bushes, and Mrs. Beeks' disapproving voice. "Hope that taught you a lesson," she sneered. 

Mrs. Beeks was the wife of somebody who, try as I might, I always seem to piss off. The first time I met Mr. Beeks was when my dad was watching a video on his laptop in the living room and I walked up behind him and said “who's that nerd?” and to my horror the nerd on the screen rolled his eyes. It was a video call. The nerd was one of his company's clients, Mr. Beeks.

The second time was a few years later. I reached into a box of free samples outside a chicken restaurant. Only it wasn't free samples. It was him. Holding a box of chicken. His chicken. I tried to steal Mr. Beeks' chicken.

The last thing I needed was his wife witnessing a third mishap of mine. I had no idea what lesson I should learn because I don’t remember how the near death experience even happened. “What?” I asked.

“Tell me,” Mrs. Beeks put her hands on her hips and glared. “what did you see during your near death experience?” The fact that she had so much plastic surgery made me unable to ascertain what she was feeling. Was she concerned or was she upset with me? 

“Um…” I drew a blank

Mrs. Beeks rolled her eyes. “Hopefully something that made you stop being such a screw-up artist”

After working it in my head for an hour, I remembered what I saw during my near-death experience. I saw rebirth on a personal level. A baby being born, a guy dying of old age well as his wife held his hand, and two teenagers who thought it was a good idea to snack on Tide pods, not because of the tide-pod challenge, but because they thought it was candy. A mother got angry at herself and her daughter because the latter got into a fight with a crossing guard and ended up getting hit by a car

I saw the natural order of death and rebirth. Volcanoes erupt, wiping out vegetation at the same time providing nutrients for the new stuff to grow. Hyenas gobbling up a gnu protecting its calf. People covered in scars cowering from an earthquake

I saw a messy future of our universe. Civilizations rise and fall. Our star system died while new ones are created. A big crunch followed by a second Big Bang. The point is that our universe reshapes itself all the time at all scales.

Despite all this, I could only say one thing. I blurted out, “42.”

Mrs Beeks stood there, dumbfounded. “What is that, like the version number for the universe?” she asked. I’m surprised she knew what a version number was.

“No,” I chuckled, “42 is not the version number of the universe, it’s something deeper: a key.”

“What kind of key?”

I looked Mrs. Beeks right in the eye and said, “While I was out, I saw the random number generator that powers the universe. 42 is the thing that seeds the random number generator”

“What does that mean?” she said, unimpressed. 

“If you use a random number generator on a computer, it’s not truly a random number generator. True generation of random numbers is still an unsolved problem in computer science,” I explained, “To beat a pseudorandom number generator, you need the seed, the modulus, the increment, and the scale factor. I know the seed. I can predict future events if I know when they’ll happen. Knowing the seed for the random number generator that powers the universe leads to things like seeing cataclysmic disasters before they happen and Beating casinos and lotteries. You have no idea how powerful this is.”

Mrs. Beeks walked away in disgust

Speaking of seeing disasters before they happen, I had this vision of disaster 100 years from now. None of us will be alive so I’m not going to say anything about it.

That turned out to be a mistake. The time-delta wasn’t in years, but in days.

A hundred days later, the volcano at Yellowstone erupted. Bubbling lava flowed down the slopes, destroying everything in its path. Massive rocks got blown 50 miles into the air. 

Nobody in the states of Montana or Wyoming survived. The rest of the country also took it in the teeth, but not to the same extent. Nobody evacuated because they didn’t think it’d happen so soon. 

Once again, I screwed up. To anyone who hoped that the near death experience would make me less of a screwup artist, you were wrong. Maybe people can’t really change. we can’t become something better than before.

Before my near-death experience, I could only be described as a screw-up artist. I had a habit of putting my foot in my mouth, doing things without thinking, and struggling to put words together. After the near-death experience, I remained the same. 

People can learn, but they can't really change. Old habits can go away, and new habits can be formed, but people don't differ fundamentally from who they are throughout their life.

@prompts-for-every-need

[qfzeeph]

love love love seeing Kijo Togami headcanons on the byakuya tag AAAAAAAAA and honestly it got me inspired to share my own!!!!! heheheheh I kinda homebrewed the Plot Twist™ and new lore regarding... certain things... from Project Raincode into this so if you don't want spoilers for that I don't recommend clicking the read more. Though that being said it's very much a homecooked-homebrewed version of it so it's also not reflective of what's canon in the universe also. The plot twist IS still talked about however!

so a lot of my writing for Kijo is centered around my own lore (which contains a lot of oc x canon because hehe funny i have no self control) so I'm mainly gonna be focusing on the stuff that isn't super duper specific to that. Also, all of this takes place in the Non-Despair Timeline.

So first of all, tl;dr on my funky version of the Homunculus Project is that some people either became homunculi via injection of DNA or they could have a body double. Body doubles could either live alongside the host OR have their consciousness transferred into a homunculus body. Typically, only high ranking people were offered the latter option. Also in my take on it, they found a way to negate the sunlight sensitivity and the Amaterasu Corporation cut corners that unintentionally made it so all of their subjects to have the issue. The Unified Government's experiments also successfully prevented permadeath, but they didn't know the effect was only short term and after a certain number of years "dying" would result in zombification.

•Kijo was one of the very first people to have his consciousness transferred into a Homunculus body, since he was extremely eager to become even more perfect than he already was. He was a huge backer and part of the project as a whole, seeing as the Togami Conglomerate has such a prominent place in the global government.

•One of the head scientists, a french DNA sequencer, was also one of the very first people to do this as well. She was able to do so despite not having the same status as the billionares because she contributed so much to the project. She decided to work on the project because she was born infertile and wanting nothing more than to have a kid of her own, and being transplanted into a new body was, at least in her mind, the only way to achieve that dream.

•Kijo overhears this and has the idea of procreating a homunculus child. Homunculus children at this point were being given to non-homunculus surrogate volunteers (basically how everyone else who went to Hope's Peak got to exist. It was never a school for the gifted-it was secretly a containment zone for all of the test tube homunculi babies aside from "Lucky Students" like Makoto and Reserve Course students.) She agrees since it's everything she's ever wanted, despite knowing that one day she'd have to give him up when the time came.

•The Woman would be allowed to bear Kijo's child, and he was predetermined to be the heir of the company. However, the traditional competition and inheritance contest had to continue as normal in order to maintain the illusion that there weren't genetically modified children in the family. Her son was never to find out, and him and his father were to rule to corporation for eons to come while also spreading homunculus DNA and offspring to those deemed worthy.

•Byakuya's mom never told him that he was basically destined to win. She raised him with love and care and all the formal training any Togami child would normally have needed to compete and be worthy of the title. It pained her to see him go, but she got to experienced the thing she'd always wanted.

•Byakuya doesn't find out ANY OF THIS until his dad "dies" (since the project ended up being faulty and nobody knew that the immortality effects did not stop the body from giving out on itself,) and subsequently gets reincarnated as a zombie within a day. It crushes him, he is full of angst and confusion, like imagine your whole life you believe your talents were earned not given, and they turn out to be given instead of earned (this is actually where more of the oc x canon lore comes in because my character also suffers from genetic modification, and her altered DNA is what cancels out the effects of his altered DNA. We have an in-joke in my friend group that Chere gave Byakuya radiation poisoning and that's why he's allowed to live almost painlessly lmfao) that and like, imagine knowing that one day your body is gonna just give out on you and you'll wake up the next morning as a zombie. that's kinda scary man ngl

•tl;dr: Byakuya Togami is a superhuman because his dad and mom are genetically modified superhumans. His dad wanted to play god and raise a god heir. Byakuya did not choose this path and now has to suffer the consequences of it. Byakuya is also the ONLY homunculus child that was born from two homunculi, all the others were surrogates. That's why he's the Ultimate Perfection ;) ...this probably doesn't make much sense and is like SUUUUUPER fucking out there and weird but I'm posting it anyway I'm tired of being a coward

[crownmemes]

Mycroft Holmes (Sherlock) Sentences

(Sentences from Mycroft Holmes from Sherlock (2010-2017). Adjust phrasing where needed)

“I would make some kind of threat, but I’m sure your situation is quite clear to you.”

“You don’t seem very afraid”

“Bravery is by far the kindest word for stupidity, don’t you think?”

“You don’t seem the kind to make friends easily.”

“Did it never occur to you that you and I belong on the same side?”

“We have more in common than you’d like to believe.”

“No, no, no, I can’t possibly be away from the office for any length of time. Not with the elections so… Well, you don’t need to know about that, do you?”

“Don’t make me order you.”

“For God’s sake, put your clothes on!”

“Don’t be alarmed, it’s to do with sex.”

“All lives end, all hearts are broken. Caring is not an advantage.”

“You seem desperate for my attention, which I’m sure can be arranged.”

“Our traditions define us.”

“I need you to give this matter your full attention - is that quite clear?”

“They have a few bottles of the 2000 Saint-Emilion, though I prefer the 2001.”

“You know, it is just possible that you won’t be welcome.”

“Don’t be smart. I’m the smart one.”

“If you seem slow to me, can you imagine what real people are like?”

“I’m living in a world of goldfish.”

“I warned you; don’t get involved.”

“What do we say about coincidences?”

“That name you think you may have just heard, you were mistaken. If you ever mention hearing that name in this room, in this context, I guarantee you on behalf of the secret services that materials will be found on your computer hard-drives, resulting in your immediate incarceration.”

“I hope I won’t have to threaten you as well.”

“You may consider him under my protection.”

“If you go against him, then you will find yourself going against me.”

“Am I happy too? I haven’t checked.”

“He’s a necessary evil, not a dragon for you to slay.”

“Your loss would break my heart.”

“As my colleague is fond of remarking, this country sometimes needs a blunt instrument.”

“I am not given to outbursts of brotherly compassion.”

“It is no easy thing for a great mind to contemplate a still greater one.”

“Nobody deceives like an addict.”

“I was there for you before, I’ll be there for you again. I’ll always be there for you.”

“What you are about to see is classified beyond top secret.”

“I don’t like loose ends. Not on my watch.”

“Is that sentiment talking?”

“Agents tend not to reach retirement age. They get retired in a pretty permanent sort of way.”

“Everybody dies. It’s the one thing human beings can be relied upon to do.”

“I have, I think, apologised extensively for that.”

“No, no, stop; I detest conversation in the past tense.”

“Is this merely steam-of-consciousness abuse, or are you attempting to make a point?”

“Why would I need your private number?”

“You have no idea what you’re dealing with. None at all!”

“So, what happens now? Are you going to make deductions?”

“Memories can resurface. Wounds can reopen. The roads we walk have demons beneath.”

“Now, listen to me, for your own physical safety, do not speak!”

“I will not be manipulated like this.”

“We’re not actually going to discuss this, are we?”

“You shame us all. You shame the family name.”

“I was trying to be kind…”

[lollipencil]

In The Pale Moonlight: Part 2

OK, didn't think I'd be doing more of this one so soon nor in this way, but this idea wouldn't leave me be. All I am going to say is @harleyification, I'm addressing the elephant in the room.

Enjoy and be gentle.

---

One year. Steven trudged on forward in the bitter cold as he reflected. It had been one miserable year since his littlest brother had died. One year of grieving, of arguments, of nightmares. Of longing.

An icy chill filled Steven's lungs as he stopped. There, full moon over head, was his destination. Steven didn't dare speak. None of the words he could think of felt right. So, in their absence, he had turned to actions. Slowly, a disc of moonstone was lowered onto the gravestone. Perfectly smooth apart from engravings around the edge. The meaning known only to him.

Even as tears filled his eyes, Steven smiled. Lowered himself onto the firm earth, pulled out a well-loved copy of Pride and Prejudice, and began to read aloud.

---

Marc sighed as he heaved himself through his window. It had been a long night, even without the knowledge that hung in the air like smog.

Nearly four years.

The sound of the window sliding shut seemed to echo into the shadows of their shared apartment. Something was wrong. "Don't bother hiding. I know you're there."

At that, he flicked on the living room light. At the same time, a chair spun around. And revealed The Red Hood.

"Well," came the heavily filtered voice, "good to know that's not an option." "Why are you here?" "Ah, straight to the point, I like that," Red Hood nodded to himself, "You see, I have a bit of a problem. I've been looking for someone, someone...very memorable. Nobody's seen them in, about three years now." "And what's that got to do with me?"

At this, Red Hood stood up, a gun in his hand but by his side. "Where is he?" "Give me the body, Marc," Steven suddenly said. "No, this guy would kill you-" "And you will stop him if he does," Steven cut off Jake's objection, "Let me talk to him." Before Marc could object himself, Steven pushed his way in front and held on tight. "Why do you want to know?"

"Because I came here to make sure that bastard suffered for what he did to me, and I can't find him." Each word was tainted with anger and the imminent promise of violence. Strangely, he didn't seem to react to the switch at all. "You know why that is," Steven cooly stated, "or you wouldn't be here. Which told you?" "Ivy."

Steven nodded, even as Marc and Jake's questions flew about their head. "And you truly wish to know?" The Red Hood nodded. "Fair enough."

Steven sat in the seat opposite The Red Hood who, in turn, lowered himself back down. "We had a little brother. You probably know this already, but Jason was killed by the Joker, a couple of months after he'd paralysed a family friend. It destroyed us. In so many ways.

One day, an idea pops into my head. I'm not like you, I'm not the kind of person that can kill. Call me a coward if you must, but I'm just not. But this idea isn't that.

Harley Quinn had broken up with the Joker since...his death, and was making genuine efforts to make it permanent. Her and Poison Ivy, they made each other really happy. But everyone knew that she could go crawling back to him if he said the right things.

I managed to acquire a powerful paralytic, don't ask me how. Full-body, you know. I got a burner phone and a blow dart kit. And happened to find him, alone, in a warehouse.

I took my chance.

Once he'd stopped trying to move, I called Ivy's number. Don't ask how I got that either. 'Right now, the Joker is under a full-body paralytic. Won't be able to move until morning. If you want to ensure he'll never hurt her again, here's your chance. My only request is that, if you do leave him alive, that he never be able to move his arms, his legs, or laugh. Ever again. Harley can come to, if she likes.'

I gave the address and hung up. Dismantled the phone and threw it into the Gotham River. Tossed the pipe into the Wayne's manor incinerator. I then went to Jason's grave and read to him until the sun rose.

I never laid a finger on the Joker, and have no idea what Ivy did to him after I left, but he'll never lay his own on anyone else."

The Red Hood was silent. In his head, Marc and Jake were stunned. "I think, that you are the best big brother one could ever ask for," Red Hood slowly stated after what felt like an eternity. Then, he raised his hand to his helmet. Entranced, they watched as the helmet hissed and slid off to reveal an impossibility.

"And if I knew we were exchanging gifts," Jason Todd croaked out, "I'd have got you something real special."

In an instant, Marc had the body. With great care and speed, he threw himself over Jason.

"You're alive," he managed before his tears grew too strong, "You're her. That's enough." Nobody tried to stop him, hugging a dead man like he'd dissolve if not held together. Instead, Steven and Jake pushed forward as close as they could, while Jason's arms wrapped around them all with equal strength.

Together again finally.

[sullustangin]

Fluffy February Day 12: Discipline

Fandom: SWTOR

Time: sometime around 40 BTC

Note: all the characters here are OCs. In sum, the Grand Admiral thing ran away from me.

Word count: ~1200

~~

It took a lot of discipline to keep his true feelings in check on a number of issues.  However, there had to be some give and take.  Principles held, others permitted to fall away. 

To make a new government, a new order, a new solution to the problem of corruption, there had to be some compromise. 

Flying took discipline and focus, a skill to be honed and yet still never fully trusted.  It was something to always be practiced and perfected, never let to rest for too long. 

Thus, it was a disciplined choice to choose to defect to the newborn Empire, leaving behind the dysfunctional Republic. 

Discipline meant shelving selfish desires and focusing on the end goal, no matter the personal cost.  Discipline and duty went hand in hand, often, for him.  He was systematic.  He was fair.  He was consistent.  That’s all his men needed for him to marked “exceptional.”

That disquieted him, even as he rose through the ranks.

Existing in the new Sith Empire meant understanding that everything was potential collateral: the more one had, the more one could lose.  It was like playing planetary poker, in the sense one knew what one had but then had to figure out what everyone else and the dealer had…and what they were willing to lose or discard to get what they wanted.

So once the pilot made it to the upper ranks, he jettisoned his personal life.  He had the discipline to tamp down what he’d wanted, as a younger, less wise man.  Those dreams were casualties of a revolution. 

Wants were dismissed.  Needs were addressed as they arose. 

There was one failing in his discipline.  Or maybe it was the safety valve, the sane and safe way to release pressure with no consequences.

It started …not right after he surrendered domesticity and true love.  Years after that point. 

…it started at a dive bar on one of the moons of Hutta.  He didn’t think it was Nar Shaddaa, because Nar Shaddaa then wasn’t as it is now. 

It meant nothing.

Then they kept finding each other.

It wasn’t love.

Discipline was knowing there would be no happily ever after and never making promises… not even in moments of euphoria or utter peace in each other’s company.

It helped a lot that she was of poor birth, with a last name she’d chosen herself, in a ship she’d earned herself.

(Who, by the great Holy Star, would name their child "Dyominia" voluntarily?)

…he’d earned his ship too, though the name was a hand-me-down.  The Sith Empire liked keeping clutter, such as names, objects, titles, bloodlines.  He conformed.

Smugglers did not live long, so he shrugged it off when she stopped appearing in the same old places for months at a time.  A year.  He had the discipline to keep his temporary grief to himself.  Just as no one knew of her existence, nobody knew of her loss.

Until she wasn’t lost.

She deliberately tried to break through a sector under his supervision.  She always did know how to get his attention.  He knew the name of her ship, and he told an underling to try his hand at handling it.  “Non-citizens have limited rights in Imperial space.  That said, smugglers – and their cargo – can be of use.  Investigate.  Interrogate without the conveniences of a cell.”

“You’ll observe?”

“Yes.”

Discipline was hearing her voice and not breaking the stoic façade as he listened to round after round of questioning.  She had changed.  Aged, in a way.  She kept casting nervous backward glances, as if listening and waiting for something…

Something…

Something finally pierced the air.

A cry.

Discipline was only letting the surprise, not the rage, the jealousy, then the calculations of time march through his head show on his face.

The underling lost his cool, entirely.  “Is that a baby?” he asked in astonishment.

“Well, it’s not my pet parrot,” she replied, annoyed that the questioning had gone on as long as it did. 

(She didn’t have a pet parrot, did she?  He didn’t know.  It never was supposed to matter...)

He went right back to business. “Is it yours, or is it merchandise?”

A parade of emotions went right across her face as she heard his voice – the one she’d been looking for.  The surprise, the relief, then the fear –

Why was she afraid now?  She never had been, even as his rank and power grew and she remained as she was.

The answer came, in his head, from the rules of planetary poker: people do foolish things when they have something to lose. 

“Yes,” she answered, honestly.  “She’s mine.”

A beat.

The underling looked in askance at him.  “I don’t know what –”

“Show me the child.  Then we’ll consider letting you go on your way.”

Discipline was waiting for her to come back, uncaringly, looking over a duty report while the smuggler disappeared into the back of her ship.

Discipline was not immediately looking up when he heard her re-enter the cockpit.

Discipline was not reacting to seeing his own red hair on another person for the first time in many, many years.

And how that small person squalled and fought at her mother, as resenting being put on show for some strange audience. 

(He felt the same way, at every parade, at every training exercise he was told to lead, at every medal ceremony.)

Discipline was realizing she would be better off free with her mother than becoming his collateral – something so precious to lose in the Empire’s clawing and squabbling to the top.

Discipline was peering with feigned disinterest.  “Does it have a name?”

Her brave mother replied, “Athene.  Not like her mother.”

A goddess of wisdom and virginity – no, nothing like her mother at all.

(He always appreciated how very self-aware she was – she knew her role in the galaxy and in their liaison.  Until now.  Now she was as caught as off-guard as he was now, but she could not hide it: no discipline in her.)

He turned to his underling.  “Take the ship into the tractor beam.  We will take it in tow to the other end of the sector to ensure she leaves Imperial space without further delay.”

Discipline was surviving to the end of his shift and making it to his quarters before he had a meltdown of an entire emotional spectrum. 

Discipline was waiting another few months before he dared show himself at the same old places to find her.  He found her right away.

She had changed.  Her body had changed.  The child was cared for and far from here, she reassured him.

…Discipline was knowing it was the last time. Discipline was handing over all the clutter the Sith Empire had kept around.  For her. 

Discipline was waiting to laugh in his quarters at the very idea of “House Corolastor,” should she grow into his choices for his life – not her mother’s. (The red hair would go a long way in substantiating any claim. So would the coffer and the maps.)

The Grand Admiral died at the Second Battle of the Seswenna Sector with Athene Corolastor on his mind, never more than a baby in safe hands that were not his, though he supposed she was now 12 years old.

Discipline meant shelving selfish desires and focusing on the end goal (freedom for her), no matter the personal cost.

~~

@fluffyfebruary

@vexa-legacy, @storyknitter, @serenofroses, @magicallulu7 -- Grand Admiral won.