#fictionalized matthew mercer

[buttclench-ryugazaki]

"I'd like to imagine Brennan walked into the Critical Role offices, slammed his fist down on the desk and said, 'I'll tell you right now, either you put Lou Wilson in Calamity, or I walk!' And then Matt stomped out his cigar into an already crowded ashtray and was like, 'Fine Sweet Cheeks, but if he doesn't deliver it's your ass!'" — Lou Wilson, imagining how he was brought onto ExU ("We Chat With Critical Role's Exandria Unlimited: Calamity Cast" by Gavin Sheehan for Bleeding Cool)

#lou wilson #dimension 20 #critical role #exandria unlimited: calamity #exu calamity #fictionalized brennan lee mulligan #fictionalized matthew mercer #also included in this interview: #luis carazo #read the rest of it!

[laurasbailey]

#critteredit #criticalroleedit #yasha nydoorin #imogen temult #the stormlord #ashley johnson #laura bailey #matthew mercer #critical role #c2 #c3 #~ #cr spoilers #critical role has the best women in fiction actually #the stormlord is my fav sapphic ally #1k

[ahb-writes]

I don't think you need all the backstory in the world. What backstory is there to do, is give you a sense of trajectory. Where you are coming from informs where you are going, and it's the going that's essential.

Brennan Lee Mulligan, on character building and character creation ("Game Masters of Exandria Roundtable")

#writeblr #critical role #writing tips #character development #writing advice #writing #brennan lee mulligan #character building #critrole #matthew mercer #novel writing #aabria iyengar #fiction writing #exandria #taldorei #ttrpg #tabletop gaming #exandria unlimited #critter hug

[all-made-of-stardust]

yes hello i come bearing the gift of Essek & Gilmore stuck in an elevator that I know all of you are craving, have fun!

#essek thelyss #shaun gilmore #essek thelyss x shaun gilmore #apparently #i think it's cute #4 sided dive #critical role #cr spoilers #matthew mercer i love you dearly #every time you drop even a hint of essek lore i become feral #my fiction

[youwillfindilluminating]

I wonder sometimes about what would happen if eddie munson and matthew mercer were ever able to meet. 😂 would they even get along? they would have a ton to talk about, at least

#eddie munson #matthew mercer #critical role #if only one of these people wasn't fictional

[sonreyes]

Hearthside Heroes // A Critical Role Short Story

      Evelyn cleans the mansion. She sweeps and mops and sends the errand boy to grab groceries. She doesn't cook because Lord Eshteross prefers to cook; but she prepares the ingredients, and cleans up after he's done. At night he reads his books locked in his suite while she engages all the traps. Hidden servant's paths, spring-loaded weapons in the walls, hidden swords stashed around the house and a bell on a string that goes to every room in the house were all symptoms of the master's sordid past. Lord Ariks Eshteross, at the end of his days, was left alone to enjoy the wealth he had amassed though he never directly said how. She has her washcloth, he has his secrets.

     Today was a special day; it was the only day she cooked for the old man. She finished the laundry, made a pot of tea, and when the oven timer went off the front door burst open. In ran the master himself, Lord Esteross. There in the foyer she saw him there with a great bloody gash across his shoulder and she dropped the birthday cake on the floor.      "Sir!" Evelyn yelled at Eshteross, "What have you done!? Who did this to you?" She instantly rushed to fetch her washbowl and washcloth. He was limping on a tall elf dressed impeccably in white with fresh blood across them both. Evelyn wiped his brow with a washcloth; her clean bowl was quickly becoming red with each pass over him.

     "I'm sorry Evelynn" Eshteross managed after a while.      "Well it's your floors, Ariks " She grumbled, "It'll take months before-"      "Don't worry about the floors, you need to leave here, you need to go I've-"      "Sir I'm not going anywhere." She said risking a glance at the tall man. He was running his hand over his clothes and the blood began disappearing. "And you are?"      "Ah! It's seems like every day I meet a person who does not yet know me!" The tall man said with a flourish of his hand and in his voice. "I am Angel, woo-er of danger and lover of beauty. Saving all who need it and let the Father sort out the rest!" He ended with a great burst of laughter despite the odd looks from Evelyn.      "I was about to say" Ariks interrupted, "We found our girl's contact in Basurias. I should've expected herself to be there but when we arrived she was already found. Otohan Thull was waiting for us. She’s Legend of the Peaks. A war hero; if you ask the winners." He trailed off.      "I teleported us out but she knows where we are." Angel urged Evelyn meeting her gaze, "She knows where you live."      "It's a matter of time until she lands herself here and aims to kill us." Ariks said with a weighted finality like a burden on his shoulders, "I'm going to stay. Here. I will wait for her and end this here." Ariks pronounced standing up from his chair. He put a hand out as Evelyn began to say something. "No I've already discussed this with Angel. We're staying here to meet her."      "Yeah and totally kill her! Assassinate the assassin in our pajamas!" Angel thrusted a fist in the air and little fireworks burst around behind his head.

     Evelyn could tell Angel enjoyed the attention but when he stopped everyone was silent. They were both hurt and getting better, but there was a silent clock hanging over all of them. She had never expected anyone from Ariks’s past or whoever this assassin was to ever actually come to his house. But she felt safer here than anywhere else. "I'm staying too." She declared.       "Evel-" Ariks was cut off.       "No I know this house better than all of you. I want to stay and help. I want to keep you all sharp for when this person comes." Evelyn proclaimed unwavering, "It's not like you'd know how to keep me out." She said flipping a ring of keys that slipped out of her hands and landed on the floor.      "Erik let's discuss what we need to do here at least first." Angel broke off with Erik around his shoulders stealing a glance to Evelynn and a wink.

     Over the next several hours Evelynn was in a frantic dash to get the housework done. She ran down to the corner with a bag of silver to the errand boy to grab dried food rations, lumber to bar the windows, and an extra bag of silver with the instructions to never return to Lord Estheross's house. Evelyn herself made a trip to the guards to hopefully plead or pay for extra guards for a ten day. Coming back to the house after five hours of chores and talking to people around Ariks’s dwindling social circle with an arm full of groceries and medicine kits.

     Opening the door she nearly dropped everything. A gigantic four foot tall lizard dropped from the ceiling above her with a bronze knife slashing at her face with it. "AAUAAHHH!!" Evelyn screamed with a lizard on her face nearly toppling over herself as she backed away from this vicious thing that about came up to her waist standing. She kicked it in the face and it snapped back rushing at her and then to the bag at her hands. She jumped away as it pulled out a great slab of jerky from her bag and ran back inside the house shutting the door behind it with a hind leg. It was chaos inside. Lizards as big as children were wrestling each other out of the kitchen covered in flour and fighting over a chicken leg.

     "STOP!" Ariks boomed over his foyer. The lizards all stopped and looked at him, "These are my guests you fools and stop eating!" The lizards gathered their things and scurried up to the upper floor breaking a few vases along the way. One ran past her and grabbed its knife and the last jerky and ran up with the rest. "Sorry Evelyn, those are hired hands from places unknown to me. It’s difficult to find magical items like these. Powerful. But one use only." Ariks said glancing into a past long gone by as he pulled out a broken stone with runes about it. "They'll listen to me." Ariks smiled, "As long as I keep feeding them."

     Angel found himself a bedroom near Ariks’s bedroom. He didn't come out much because he was sleeping during the day but she would make him breakfast at night making sure to step over the trapped step in the stairs. It was this time that she got to talk with him in somber intimate chats where he told her stories about Ariks she had never known before. She had never even seen this man before yet he seemed to know so much about Ariks. Apparently they used to coordinate spies to collect and gather intelligence across Marquet. After that she slept in a servant's passageway with some blankets and pillows for a bed and a wooden rod to bar the door. Each morning was similar, disarm the traps, feed the lizards, look out the window, fear, and prepare the food. She didn't get to speak much with the master of the house. She placed his food just inside the room and an hour later come back to pick up the dirty dishes. Falling asleep was difficult, but after listening and only hearing nothing for so long Evelynn always eventually found sleep.

     The dishes were rattling. She had fallen asleep and now someone had kicked over the dishes. She silently cursed herself for leaving them out. She undid the wooden rod and padded out into the night ducking underneath the fire-breathing bust of Ariks himself, leaving it dark. Turning the corner she saw the door slightly open and froze. The master suite door was open and she knew it should be closed. Her head was washed with burning worry mixed with nausea and dizziness. She couldn't think of anything else to do except.... She took a big breath of air and rang the wire connected to bells across the whole house screaming, "HEY WAKE UP!" Tears streaming down her cheeks in desperation for her friend inside, "HEY WHAT'S GOING ON!?" She yelled at all her fears there in the dark before her.

     The door slammed open shattering porcelain dishes to the wall as a figured ran at Evelyn. Evelyn ran with a tenacious terrified will to stay alive a few more seconds. Rolling under the bust, Evelyn watched the figure get engulfed in flames. Rushing back to her makeshift bed she closed the wooden rod keeping the door in place. Scrambling to her feet she ran down the corridor banging on the walls and down the steps. She knew the assassin wouldn't have time to get down to where she was going so she flung the door open and quietly closed it until it matched its surroundings leaving it completely hidden. She was in the kitchen now. She almost tripped over a lizard running out into the foyer; its tiny blade held high. Overhead footsteps boomed across her on the floor above. She grabbed a kitchen knife and ran out the door, slowly following the stairs back up to the master suite. It was silent again. She knew everyone had to be awake, surely nobody was dead and still the house was utterly quiet. Opening the door to Ariks‘s room she crept in. Quickly there were footsteps running outside that she didn't recognize. The door opened and in slipped Angel almost next to her. "Angel" She whispered.

     He gave a stifled screamed and covered his mouth with a look of death and surprise at Evelyn. "Stay here, she will be upon us soon." He said opening the door and against the black of the hallway a darker figure was running towards them. She was running full speed with a dancer’s body dark in dark leathers. As she was at the threshold he threw blinding light in her eyes and threw Evelyn and himself across the floor away from her as she stumbled into the room. The room was lit with bright true white. Whipping her swords around her the woman pulled off her hood. As she opened her mouth to speak a large crack sounded overhead as Lord Eshteross broke through the ceiling and landed on her. Rolling off he reached under his bed and pulled out his walking stick.

     "DONE!" He shouted and a clap of thunder boomed in the room and they were all blown away from each other. When Evelyn got up from the other side of the bed, Angel had a sword and then they were fighting, in a dance of the blade. Rolling out from the two, all Evelyn could tell was that she had brown hair and piercing eyes and she was running straight for her. Diving again Evelyn slammed her fist on a panel in the wall and a hand axe flew out of the wall and checked the assassin on the shoulder stopping her in her tracks. She ran over the bed and ducked out of the room. Following Evelyn the assassin jumped over the railing to land in front of Evelyn. It was now that Evelyn noticed the front door was open with the bodies of slain guards at the foot. But here was Otohan Thull, hero of the Peaks keeping pace as Evelyn backed away up the stairs. A quick flurry of air whipped by the assassin as a quiver of bolts flew past her and stuck into the wall. Looking quite amused at the trap under her feet and she pressed on.

     The lizards were coming from the hall now. There were only two of them but behind Evelyn, Angel and Ariks were behind her. Otohan was there before them fending off the two lizards deftly while Angel grew bright celestial wings like a great bird and began flying around the assassin shining bright light in her eyes as Ariks rushed down with a rapier better suited for close melee. Their swords dashed, up and along the banister. Together they spun about each other dueling and even though Ariks had several advantages he was still only keeping himself just alive. Angel jumped down and now he had his sword out that shined just like he did in this dark place but the assassin had her shadows. The shadows grew from her and formed about her sometimes taking form to block an attack or to slash at an opening in Erik's defense. They fought and Evelyn knew she was frozen in fear, she wasn’t a help here to anyone. She almost threw her kitchen knife to help only realizing she had dropped it somewhere. She had to get out. Ariks raised his sword as another shade from the shadows cut at his leg and he fell to one knee. She had to run around them without drawing her attention. Angel grabbed the assassin by the head and head-butted her with a ripple of purple energy surrounding his forehead.

     "I got the information, Ariks." Angel gasped. It looked like he was watching something with his eyes as they flicked in his head. Stepping in Estheross thrust his sword in still focusing on catching the assassin's attention.

     "Hold her off for Evelyn!" Ariks shouted. They were constantly having to back to the assassin's inexorable advance. Evelyn darted around them and ran out from the mansion into the cold night air. Turning around she saw Angel look back at her, give her a wink and blinked out in a white spark leaving Eshteross to fight the assassin alone.

     "Help!" Evelyn shouted stepping over the bodies at her doorstep. Vision blurred and stumbling over herself she was crying uncontrollably. She caught the attention of a band of guards nearby and only in their torchlight realized she was covered in blood. She took them to the mansion with its door still left open. And when they went inside, only Lord Ariks lay on the floor in a pool of blood.

#writing #critical role #dungeons and dragons #dnd #matthew mercer #fan fiction #what do you think?

[encyclopediacr]

Critical Role announces its new monthly horror series using the Illuminated Worlds system, Candela Obscura!

Set in a fictional turn-of-the-century inspired region known as The Faireland, the series features Taliesin Jaffe as the Lightkeeper with Robbie Daymond, Laura Bailey, Anjali Bhimani, and Ashley Johnson and a story led by Matthew Mercer.

The first chapter of Candela Obscura will run for three episodes starting May 25, 2023. A quickstart guide for the setting and its characters will also be released that day, and Darrington Press will release a core rulebook later this year.

For more information, you can check out the announcement.

#Critical Role #Candela Obscura

[bloopitynoot]

3 Shadowgast fics that made me ugly cry

Okay so I read a LOT of shadowgast fanfics and I wanted to share some of the ones that made me absolutely weep. (I was going to wait until tomorrow but I got too excited to share).

All of these have some intense emotional distress, but I promise you all they may be angsty but they absolutely have happy endings.

They are all set in very different AU's, are hefty completed fics, and have similar feels!

1. the breathe before the phrase

(171513 words) by @kmackatie Chapters: 20/20 Rating: Explicit Summary: The ringing note of a concert A is played by the oboe, echoing on its own in the space. It’s picked up by the wind section, followed rapidly by the brass, and the familiar feeling of an orchestra calibrating takes over Caleb. The tonal adjustments as each person brings their instrument into alignment sinks into him and something inside Caleb shifts in recognition as Essek leads the strings into their own tuning. It’s like something is waking up, like something unfurling and firing across long-unused paths of memory. His hands shake slightly, as he raises his bow and joins them, fingers fumbling against the pegs and fine tuners that give him control over his instrument. ---- Essek Thelyss is a leading violinist, his spot as Shadowhand of the Rosohna Philharmonic Orchestra has been uncontested for over a decade. Caleb Widogast is a recent arrival to the city, convinced by his friends to audition for one of the vacant violinist positions. After starting off on the wrong foot, Caleb and Essek get to slowly know each other, discover what brings them joy, create while defying expectations, and find out that what they can produce together may just be better than anything they can do separately.

Why I cried: The amount of pressure put on Essek made my heart absolutely shatter. That plus the pinning between Caleb and Essek had me weeping. The hurt/comfort energy. The bad parent Dierta and of course past Caleb Ickythong trauma healing. Other than the story itself Katie has put so much energy into explaining the music, the playlist is stunning, and the inspiration for the played pieces in the fic are grounded in actual compositions. No spoilers, but the ending is gorgeous <3

2.Till Human Voices Wake us

(66080 words) by @ariadne-mouse Chapters: 23/23 Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Additional Tags: Merman!Caleb, no Mighty Nein but otherwise canon setting/events, Neutral evil Essek, Essek-typical anxiety and fatalism, Loneliness, Hurt/Comfort, spooky gothic vibes, some horror and disturbing imagery, the ocean as a threat/love language, Illustrations, drowning themes Summary: Essek Thelyss, lonely and ambitious prodigy, comes to Nicodranas to make a risky gamble with the Assembly. At the water’s edge, he finds himself swept up in another dangerous entanglement he can't seem to escape — and as time goes on, he's less and less sure he wants to. Will his treasonous alliance or the sea itself devour him first? (Or, the one where Caleb is a merman.)

Why I cried: okay so look, this story was so fucking sad I can't even begin to describe it. The love and longing between the two, the tragic backstory for Caleb. Treason = death for Essek (it's a happy ending though so do not worry, but I definitely worried so you don't have to LOL). It also has some stunning art in it!!!

3. what luminous worlds await

what luminous worlds await (178674 words) by @essektheylyss Rating: Mature Additional Tags: Champion of the Luxon AU, Alternate Universe - Future, Space Opera, Religious Conflict, religious trauma, Violence, Minor Character Death, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Dreams vs. Reality, Demisexual Essek Thelyss, Past Character Death, Grief/Mourning, Angst, Fictional Religion & Theology, Implied/Referenced Sex, Mention of Using Sex as Self-Harm, several immortals grapple with loss while trying to save the world, so so many liberties taken with consecution, this wouldn't be a problem if you'd EXPLAIN matthew mercer, and/or if a certain drow would give literally any straight answers, (I mean he can't give straight answers when he's not straight), Background Fjorester (Past), Post-Canon, …very post-canon Summary: “You seek my nature. It is a lonely endeavor. Would you like to join me on this path?” “Yes.” — After a thousand years, a divine champion awakes in a lightless cave above Port Damali with little memory to speak of and a beacon in his hands. Even as he struggles to piece the past together and process what he has lost while he slept, the future demands he answer for the crimes of his elders. It offers little in return, but perhaps there are fragments of possibility awaiting him.

Why I cried: Omg oh boy, this one made me BIG cry- honestly one of my favourite fics I have read so far. A true space opera, a story of love, in many forms, over time, space, and multiple lives. I sobbed from chapter one literally until the end. Though I think you will need an A03 account to read this one, but it is worth the wait to set one up. My partner watched me cry so much while I read this. I totally did download and save this fic to send to pals so they can cry with me. It is worth the agony for this happy ending. I might still be crying LOL

#for the shadowgast shippers #shadowgast #shadowgast recs #caleb widogast #essek thelyss #cr m9 #mighty nein #critical role #honestly some of them I sobbed while explaining the premise to my partner because I have a lot of feelings #these are all worth the length

[pucked-bunnie]

ABOUT: This is a fan-fiction blog centered around hockey players and the nhl, please not that not all requests will be completed and may be deleted if not within my comfort zone.

BLOG UNDER CONSTRUCTION; SOME LINKS MAY NOT WORK/ARE NOT POSTED YET

⎜ inbox status : open⎜

⎜ fic requests : open⎜

⎜chat & questions : open ⎜

⎜prompt list ⎜

⎜masterlist ⎜

⎜who i write for ⎜

nico hischier

timo meier

dawson mercer

alexander holtz

john marino

luke hughes

jack hughes

quinn huges

mat barzal

elias pettersson

trent frederic

jeremy swayman

auston matthews

joseph woll

william nylander

cole caufield

jamie drysdale

matthew knies

seth jarvis

cale makar

jesperi kotkaniemi

⎜genres i write ⎜

horror

thriller

angst

romance

alternate universes (e.g. soulmate au, college au etc.) 

fluff

summer lovin' - l.hughes (requested)

synopsis: a summer down at the lake house always had a way of changing peoples relationships.

oh captain, my captain - n.hischier

synopsis: as the new team nurse of the new jersey devils you knew that staying at arms length with the players was for the best, but injuries can bring out your deepest emotions.

my all star - e.pettersson

synopsis: you’ve been dating for a while now and after receiving an invite to go to the all star weekend with Elias you realise your relationship is about to change.

puppy love - t.frederic (requested)

synopsis: you met him once by accident, you don't know what to do when you start your new job with a little bit of puppy love

shameless flirt - a.matthews

synopsis: working as a team trainer came with many ups and downs, when you pull one of toronto's super stars the downs seem to outweigh the ups - but auston is always willing to bring you back up.

#nhl x reader #nhl imagine #jack hughes #quinn hughes #trent frederic #luke hughes #nhl fic #nhl hockey #nhl #nico hischier #jamie drysdale #jeremy swayman #mat barzal #elias pettersson #cole caufield #joseph woll #william nylander #auston matthews #dawson mercer #timo meier #john marino #alexander holtz #matthew knies

[cobaltsoulsearcher]

Okay I’m realizing I don’t know your other fandoms that well. So I will try to guess blorbos

Cerberus

Orpheus

The fuckign. Dnd guys. There’s a lot of them

One of them is Matt Mercer? He’s a human but a blorbo is just human with extra steps right?

Didn’t that one actress from supernatural also do something on CR????? Help

This has been “Roonie does not know anything about Critical Role,” thank you for watching

You got the first two perfect 10/10 ✨

And yes, we love the definitley fictional human being blorbo Matthew Christopher Miller Mercer TM

And there is a lot of them. 23 Critical role main characters, to be exact. That’s bigger than the entire cast of Hadestown! And they are all my blorbos. (…okay maybe not. But I do claim the De Rolos! And Empire Siblings and Jester and Nott/Veth and especially Molly!! And Laudna and Orym! So like 9/23 of the mains + those two NPCs I’m obsessed with. I’m so autistic about the De Rolos it’s not funny /j)

As for supernatural, are you…are you talking about Felicia Day? She’d a friend of the show, helped them get started, and she guested in season one. Idk I haven’t seen supernatural but she was in that right?

#Roonie I love you #critical role #Matthew Mercer #Felícia day #maybe????

[goblin-king-jay]

I dunno if Matt is reading my mind or if I'm picking up a vibe he's putting out or what but I was just thinking during last Thursday's game about how it would be cool to use real creatures from our real planet as DnD monsters because it's important to remind people how diverse and, frankly, incredible things are out there in the natural world

And Matt is just over here having giant caecilians and things as monsters!! Truth really is stranger than fiction y'all there are some WEIRD ass things out in the wild

...Sorry I forgot to finish my thought I spaced out as I was staring at Mr. Matthew Mercer like some kind of lovesick teenager

#my GOD man get a HOLD of yourself #*smack* #that was my inner voice smacking some sense back into me #lolol #critical role #critical role spoilers #cr spoilers #cr #cr3 #matt mercer #bells hells #cr liveblog #cr c3 #critical role liveblog #matthew mercer

[leechs]

really long essay under cut

Title: Love and Violence in Flannery O’Connor’s “Good Country People” and “The Lame Shall Enter First”

“From the days of John the Baptist until now, the kingdom of heaven suffers violence, and the violent bear it away.” —Matthew 11:12

What Happens in Milledgeville

Inside a quiet farmhouse in Milledgeville, Georgia, Flannery O’Connor’s modest bedroom sits suspended in amber like a mid-twentieth century fossil. 

Unlike the rest of the sparse, picture-perfect home, this cramped living space is adorned with an array of eclectic mementos and oddly-arranged furniture that helps visitors to visualize the personal side of the author’s brief, monastic life. Describing his own trip to the Andalusia property a decade prior, Dr. Paul Reich writes that “for students of O’Connor’s work […] this empty, lonely place is transformed by the context of the author’s narratives; as each part of the farm resonates with O’Connor’s readers, they draw fresh understanding of the literature” (417). On the topic of emptiness, there is indeed something absent from the tables and shelves that line the museum: books. During the tour that I took, a docent remarked that O’Connor’s collections were moved into the nearby Georgia State College archives for preservation purposes—ironically, and despite her contrarian disregard for music, there are now more vinyl records in the house than there is literature. Even so, a few sturdier selections remain in O’Connor’s bedroom for accuracy’s sake, including an especially flirty pink-and-black hardcover boasting the eccentric title “Love and Violence.”

Although a quick Google search reveals that Love and Violence (1954) is actually a collection of Catholic philosophical essays rather than a saucy work of romance fiction, it initially stood out to me because of its potential relationship to O’Connor’s oeuvre. During my visit to Andalusia as part of a field study centered around Southern literature, we were tasked with, in Reich’s words, “avoid[ing] the traps of literary tourism” as we considered the connection between author, place, and text (418). Although O’Connor’s farm is certainly not sensational tourist-bait in the way that William Faulkner’s Mississippi estate or the historic Mercer-Williams house might be, “uncritical sentimentalism” or “hero worship” were still explicitly frowned upon during our visits to each site (Reich and Russell 419). We were instead urged to think about “the author’s house, the guide’s rhetoric, and the region’s self-presentation […] as an extension of textual interpretation” in order to “more deeply understand the reach of close reading as a mode of understanding not just the texts [we] read but the world in which [we] live” (Reich and Russell 419). 

As a former student from my institution put it, this room “wasn’t just a space, it was a home. It was where she grew up and became the person that would write all of the things [we’d] been reading and re-reading” (Reich and Russell 428). With all of this in mind, the following research serves as the natural extension of that original pedagogical goal. 

As I laid in my hotel room sometime after leaving Milledgeville, however, I kept thinking about Love and Violence. Frantically, and perhaps under the influence of one too many dinnertime drinks, I pulled out my phone and found an original copy of the 1954 anthology on eBay for a whopping $6 plus shipping. 

Regardless of the contents of that book, I was obviously intrigued by the concept of love and violence more generally, and I wanted to better understand how these ideas manifested in O’Connor’s short stories as I continued my research. As our other readings from class have shown, love and violence are both prevalent topics across the full gamut of Southern Gothic literature, speaking to this paper’s generic relevance: In Faulkner’s Light in August (1932), Joe Christmas and Joanna Burden’s torrid affair comes to a deadly climax after pages of conflicting romantic messaging. In John Berendt’s Gothic-adjacent Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil (1994), the death of Danny Hansford at the hands of his lover Jim Williams serves as the driving force of the narrative, while in the haunting Memorial Drive: A Daughter’s Memoir (2020), author Natasha Trethewey’s mother endures years of prolonged abuse from her own violent husband. Yet, out of all the texts that we’ve read, O’Connor’s stories evidence a particular, recurrent interest in love and violence—something perhaps spawned by her personal studies of religious philosophy. 

Describing her own work in Mystery and Manners: Occasional Prose, O’Connor writes that “violence is strangely capable of returning [her] characters to reality and preparing them to accept their moment of grace,” and that “violence is a force which can be used for good or evil” (144, 146). As David Griffith writes, “her stories reveal the hidden evil residing in the human heart, the pursuit of good that masks a secret pride.” While much of the existing scholarship characterizes the violence within O’Connor’s fiction as an embodiment of the literary convention of the grotesque, there has been little meaningful discussion of intertwined instances of love and violence in her stories. 

To mediate that gap is knowledge, the following analysis will focus on this dual thematic notion within “Good Country People” (1955) and “The Lame Shall Enter First” (1965) while considering how O’Connor’s understanding of religion tracks onto those two main motifs, especially in the context of secondary themes of gender and family. First, I look at romantic or sexual love and violence in “Good Country People,” and then familial love and violence in “The Lame Shall Enter First,” arguing that O’Connor’s portrayals of love and violence showcase a subtle, albeit distinct, Catholic influence that cannot be explained through the lens of regionalism alone. As I further deduce, this Catholic influence has made an impression upon the Southern Gothic style more broadly. While O’Connor is frequently touted as a foundational author of Southern Gothic fiction, the relative dominance of Protestantism in the American South might otherwise mask the presence of certain Catholic philosophical themes within its literature. Therefore, this study is an important exploration of the author’s legacy beyond the vague umbrellas of both “Southern” and “Christian.”

The Catholic Novelist

Catholicism was clearly an important part of O’Connor’s personal and professional life, and her classification as a “Christian novelist” is a topic that appears many times throughout her essays—as she once famously stated, “because I am a Catholic, I cannot afford to be less than an artist” (Mystery 184). In a prayer book from her days at the Iowa Writers Workshop, a younger O’Connor likewise laments, “don’t let me ever think, dear God, that I was anything but the instrument for Your story,” speaking to Catholicism’s influence on her writing (Robinson). 

Still, both modern and twentieth century critics have pointed out that many of O’Connor’s short stories are not explicitly religious, and that the examples which do have an obvious spiritual undercurrent never have an uplifting “Christian” message. As Joseph O’Neil notes, “O’Connor was dismissive of any pressure, whether of religious or secular origin, for more ‘positive’ fiction. She saw no contradiction between her faith and her art.” In the author’s own sardonic words, “the demand for positive literature, which we hear so frequently […] comes about possibly from weak faith and possibly also from [a] general inability to read” (Mystery 238). Rather, O’Connor states that “every serious novelist is trying to portray reality as it manifests itself in our concrete, sensual life” and that if she “had to say what a ‘Catholic novel’ is, [she] could only say that it is one that represents reality adequately as we see it manifested in this world of things and human relationships” (Mystery 214).  

According to O’Neil, O’Connor usually described herself as a “thirteenth century” Catholic, not a Christian, and she was a dedicated scholar of religious philosophers like the Rev. Dr. Pierre Teilhard de Chardin, Simone Weil, and Soren Kierkegaard. To put that “century” quip in context, John Morreal states that before the 1500s, the “compartmentalized concept” of religion in which spiritual beliefs were separate from secular life was nonexistent, and that early Catholic spirituality was deeply and fully intertwined with daily life (12). As O’Connor writes, “you may ask, why not simply call this literature Christian? Unfortunately, the word Christian is no longer reliable. It has come to mean anyone with a golden heart. And a golden heart would be a positive interference in the writing of fiction” (Mystery 242). 

Fittingly, this fascination with the distinction between old and new world Christianity can be seen within her short stories; O’Connor’s settings are almost always “agrarian, static, unscientific, [and] largely insulated from modern modes of information and movement. […] The dramatic premises are almost premodern, very easily concerned with religious visionaries or with the arrival, into an unchanging locale, of a stranger” (O’Neil). Branching off of the idea of religion being intertwined with reality, religiosity is thus deeply ingrained in her narratives: there is no heavy-handed religious symbolism separate from, or applied on top of, the story itself, as is perhaps the case with Joe “Jesus” Christmas in Faulkner’s Light in August. Indeed, as O’Neil continues, “with O’Connor, there never seems to be space between the words and their creator’s sensibility. You almost never catch a whiff of authorial self-consciousness.” Speaking to her own intent behind the portrayals of violence in her story “A Good Man is Hard to Find,” O’Connor writes: “I don’t want to equate the Misfit with the devil […] however unlikely this may seem, the old lady’s gesture, like the mustard-seed, will grow to be a great crow-filled tree in the Misfit’s heart” (Mystery 145). 

Romance, Gender, and Abuse

Now that a brief history of O’Connor’s religious background has been established, it is important to critically consider the intent behind her portrayals of love and violence because it is a theme so clearly dominant in her narratives. Yet, if it is the duty of the novelist to, in the words of fellow Southern Gothic author Anne Rice, “follow their most intense obsessions mercilessly,” where does such an obsession come from? 

As O’Neil argues, O’Connor’s writing is an extension of an “ancient, artistically wholesome tradition of misanthropy.” Perhaps due to a combination of illness and maternal oversight, O’Connor’s isolated life at Andalusia warranted her few romantic attachments. Erik Langkjaer, a college textbook salesman who might have served as loose inspiration for the antagonist in “Good Country People,” wrote of his brief kiss with O’Connor after making multiple visits to the household: “she had no real muscle tension in her mouth, a result being that my own lips touched her teeth rather than lips, and this gave me an unhappy feeling of a sort of memento mori,” noting brutally that “I had a feeling of kissing a skeleton” (Williams). Unsurprisingly, displays of romantic or sexual love in O’Connor’s short stories are similarly limited, and are usually brutally abusive or generally “toxic” in some way. 

In the aforementioned “Good Country People,” the motif of romantic or sexual love and violence appears most prominently in the relationship between Joy-Hulga Hopewell and Manley Pointer. After meeting Pointer, Hopewell begins to scheme about seducing him after lying about her age, believing that his identity as a Christian makes him naive and easily manipulatable. O’Connor writes: “During the night she had imagined that she seduced him” and that after kissing him for the first time, “her mind, clear and detached and ironic anyway, was regarding him from a great distance, with amusement but with pity. She had never been kissed before and she was pleased to discover that it was an unexceptional experience and all a matter of the mind’s control” (648, 651). In these passages, Hopewell is characterized as aggressive and calculating in the exchange with the younger, seemingly innocent boy. The fact that she says she sees Pointer “from a great distance” and with “amusement” and “pity” positions her in a predatory role, as she believes she is taking advantage of somebody beneath her intellectually. 

The passive violence of Hopewell’s behavior soon backfires, however, after Pointer repeatedly demands “you got to say you love me” (O’Connor 656). After Pointer repeats the phrase multiple times, Hopewell is unable to meet this demand for “love” and resorts to a stilted, overly intellectual answer. Following the awkward exchange, Hopewell quickly switches from victimizer to victimized when she sees Pointer’s collection of obscene objects inside the Bible and is promptly robbed of her prosthetic leg. Pointer’s final assertion to Hopewell that “‘you ain’t so smart’” establishes both a literal and physical dominance over her in the end (O’Connor 663).

Through this mutually violent relationship, O’Connor showcases the irony of Hopewell’s arrogance and entitlement on the basis of her rejection of religion. According to Virginia Goldner et al., however, “abusive relationships exemplify, in extremis, the stereotypical gender arrangements that structure intimacy between men and women generally” (343). As Lea Melandri likewise confirms, “male dominance and female subservience are established by society through a binary and oppositional understanding of sex and gender” (1). In Hopewell’s case, her identity as a highly-educated, atheistic, and disabled woman makes her an atypical female character compared to the idealized Southern Belle archetype; regarding the second characteristic, Pointer says “‘that’s very unusual for a girl’” (O’Connor 651). While this perhaps awards her with a certain level of freedom inaccessible to others her age, none of it protects her from the eventual violation at the hands of her partner. 

As Goldner likewise found in her case study, a “rebellion against oppressive gender codes” within the context of abusive relationships “creates a belief that the relationship is a unique haven from the outside world,” evident in the fantastical way in which Hopewell fantasizes about the seduction (360). Indeed, her repeated rebellion against both her mother and broader societal norms is a driving factor in her initial attraction to the idea of seducing Pointer: As she lays in bed prior to their date, she imagines “dialogues for them that were insane on the surface but that reached below to depths that no Bible salesman would be aware of,” again highlighting her obsession with “corrupting” the man she believes to be an innocent Christian (O’Connor 645).

In The Habit of Being, O’Connor uses the ironic phrase “the violence of love” to describe the kind of “self-sacrifice” that embodies the love characteristic of Christ’s non-violence—as Susan Srigley states, “this can be construed as violence against the self, or a ‘death’ of the self, for the sake of others, and ultimately, for the sake of the Kingdom of God” (35). According to Srigley, 

the ‘violence of love’ is the […] restraint of one’s own desires. In this sense, love can entail a felt ‘violence’ insofar as it must actively overcome the desires and impulses of the self for the sake of another. O’Connor sees love as an active response to God and other human beings […] and the order of that love means that the self is not the centre of existence. (36)

In the case of both Hopewell and Pointer, they are thereby “loveless” not in their displays of maliciousness toward each other, but in their total inability to decenter themselves in the context of their romantic interactions. Both Hopewell’s mental gymnastics and Pointer’s physical abuse work in this same way: Just as Pointer exclaims that “I been believing in nothing ever since I was born,” O’Connor notes that Hopewell is “spiritually as well as physically crippled. She believes in nothing but her own belief in nothing, and we perceive that there is a wooden part of her soul that corresponds to her wooden leg” (663, Mystery 128). In the religious sense, this selfishness makes them equally unable to actualize the “violent love” necessary to understand God’s grace, speaking to the author’s intent in undermining the antagonist’s cynical authority. 

Family, Neglect, and Suicide 

Next, in “The Lame Shall Enter First,” the themes of familial love and violence are most evident in the father-son relationship between Sheppard and Norton, as well as the quasi-son figure of Rufus Johnson. Norton is extremely distraught over his mother’s death, although his grief annoys his rational, atheistic father Sheppard who believes that it “was not a normal grief. It was all part of his selfishness. She had been dead for over a year and a child’s grief should not last so long” (O’Connor 1021). O’Connor continues describing Sheppard’s response to his depressed son: “‘Don’t you think I miss her at all? I do, but I’m not sitting around moping. I’m busy helping other people. When do you see me just sitting around thinking about my troubles?’” (1022). From these interactions, it’s clear that Sheppard’s emotional neglect of Norton stems from a misplaced sense of secular altruism: By turning to his new pet-project Johnson, a troubled yet highly intelligent boy who Sheppard believes he can reform through proper education and attention, the father “wanted to give the boy something to reach for besides his neighbor’s goods” in order to feel as if he was doing something right in the world (O’Connor 1030). 

When Sheppard’s attempts at reform fail, Johnson continues to uphold both his skewed Christian worldview and tendencies for criminality and thievery while Norton’s needs quickly take the backburner. After Norton becomes obsessed with looking into the sky through Johnson’s telescope, the father states “I don’t want to hear about Norton,” and that regarding his reformation of the foster child, “my resolve isn’t shaken […] I’m going to save you” (O’Connor 1080, 1082). By the end of the story, Johnson is arrested, exclaiming that “I lie and steal because I’m good at it!” and Norton hangs himself in order to join his dead mother in heaven, ultimately highlighting Sheppard’s inability to connect with either of his “sons” (O’Connor 1097).

Utilizing the contrast between Johnson and Norton, O’Connor indicates the futility of Sheppard’s attempts at secular reformation. By putting all of his attention toward Johnson, he deprives his own son of love and affection, leading Norton to find refuge in fantasy and death. The indirect violence of Sheppard’s ignorance toward Norton is consequently the exact kind of selfishness he decries—a behavior that stands in direct contrast to the definition of violent love that O’Connor provides in The Habit of Being. Likewise, as Alicia Matheny Beeson argues, “in his eagerness to practice what he sees as good charitable work to inflate his own sense of self, Sheppard disregards what Johnson actually wants or needs” (50). While Sheppard believes that altruism is synonymous with both love and goodness, his inability to connect with either his surrogate or natural offspring evidences a tragic failure to harness a “love that serves the other, and as such, requires a sacrifice of the self in the form of spiritual discipline” (Srigley 36). 

Like both Hopewell and Pointer, Sheppard is spiritually dead not only due to his refusal to accept God—as is clear in his response to Johnson’s vague religiosity with “rubbish! […] We’re living in the space age”—but in his overall narcissism and inflated sense of grandiosity regarding his influence on Johnson (1029). Beyond his blanket rejection of religion, Sheppard’s self-centered idea of what constitutes appropriate emotional behavior in the case of Norton’s grief makes him unable to access the kind of sacrificial love that O’Connor deems to be truly redemptive. 

Ironically, Norton’s recurrent obsession with his deceased mother is most similar to the kind of violent love described in the previous paragraphs; of course, his death is a self-sacrifice in the literal definition of the phrase, but the final act of suicide is also a symbolic expression of his devotion to her. As Srigley says, 

the violence of love is a sacrifice borne by the self […] a movement of the spirit towards what is truly life giving, perceived when the self is no longer the center of one’s existence. It is not the modern or popular conception of love—commonly tied to the gratification of one’s desires rather than the disciplined ordering of them—but it is at the heart of O’Connor’s religious vision. (37)

While Sheppard sees his son’s persistent ideation of his mother as a form of negative self indulgence, it is actually Sheppard’s thinly veiled attempts at goodwill that are genuinely conceited. Describing his father’s character, Johnson exclaims to Norton, “‘Listen here […] I don’t care if he’s good or not. He ain’t right!’” (O’Connor 1037). The emphasis on “right” speaks to the latent nature of Sheppard’s intentions, which are, in Johnson’s mind, dubious at best. It is a kind of passive violence not unlike the inner scheming of Hopewell, and certainly bears a similar unfortunate end. By contrast, Norton’s wholehearted, innocent dedication to his mother’s memory is evident in Sheppard’s final mental image of his son: “the little boy’s face appeared to him transformed; the image of his salvation; all light” (O’Connor 1100). 

A Southern Tradition 

Speaking to the effect of O’Connor’s religious vision, Farrell O’Gorman claims that “the recurrent role of Catholicism in [the] Gothic tradition” stems from the fact it is a “religion without a country,” therefore threatening to “break down borders separating American citizens” (1). In the context of a Southern Gothic literary tradition largely concerned with questions of borders, isolation, and alienation, it seems fitting that one of the foundational authors of the genre features Catholic theology so prevalently throughout her stories. A final notion worth tackling when it comes to the topics of love, violence, and religion in O’Connor’s work is thus how this Catholic influence has affected or impressed upon the Southern Gothic style more broadly. In the essay “The Catholic Novelist in the Protestant South,” O’Connor writes that “the two circumstances that have given character to my own writing have been those of being Southern and being Catholic,” and that “this is considered by many to be an unlikely combination, but I have found it to be a most likely one” (248). 

Indeed, the “outsider” position of the Catholic within the Protestant-dominated Southern United States perhaps gives the author a unique viewpoint, one that aligns more with the “backwoods prophets and shouting fundamentalists than […] with those politer elements […] for whom religion has become a department of sociology or culture or personality development” (Mystery 261). As this essay has so far considered, religious philosophy has clearly informed the portrayal of romantic and familial love and violence in O’Connor’s short stories, highlighting the comparative desirable values of faith, self-sacrifice, and grace that are lacking in mainstream culture.

In the previously referenced article, Reich ends the discussion of the field study by stating that “our experiences both in and out of the classroom all worked to form a more nuanced reading of the South’s municipalities and extended that multiplicity to our understanding of the classroom and its boundaries” (431). Similarly, my personal reflection on the trip involved a greater appreciation for the importance of experiential learning beyond the traditional academic context; if I had not seen that interesting looking book on the shelf inside that room at Andalusia, for instance, I probably would not have had reason to consider any of the ideas explored in this essay. To be able to make those connections was valuable, and to consider the intersection between literature and biography was something I had done little of in past assignments. 

Ironically, however, O’Connor writes that “a work of art exists without its author from the moment the words are on paper, and the more complete the work, the less important it is who wrote it or why. If you’re studying literature, the intentions of the writer have to be found in the work itself, and not in his life” (Mystery 160). It may seem pointless, then, to attempt to consider questions of intent or religious philosophy from a biographical perspective. Yet, as O’Neil so aptly puts it: “nonetheless, a spiritual drama is playing out. Only it is not the one put forward by the self-explaining author, in which she figures as an onlooker occupying the high ground of piety. On the contrary, Flannery O’Connor’s criticism reveals her as scarily belonging to the low world she evokes. She was touched by evil and no doubt knew it. That is what makes her so wickedly good.”

FIN.

Works Cited

Beeson, Alicia Matheny. “The Failure of Compassion: Problematic Redemption and the Need for Praxis in ‘The Lame Shall Enter First’ and ‘The Comforts of Home.’” Reconsidering Flannery O’Connor, University Press of Mississippi, 2020, p. 50.

Goldner, Virginia et al. “Love and Violence: Gender Paradoxes in Volatile Attachments.” Family Process, vol. 29, no. 4, Wiley-Blackwell, 1990, pp. 343-364.

Griffith, David. A Good War is Hard to Find. New York: Soft Skull Press, 2006.

Melandri, Lea. Love and Violence: The Vexatious Factors of Civilization. SUNY Press, 2020.

Morreall, John and Sonn, Tamara. “Myth 1: All Societies Have Religions.” 50 Great Myths about Religions. Wiley-Blackwell. pp. 12-17.

O’Connor, Flannery. Mystery and Manners: Occasional Prose. Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2012. eBook.

O’Connor, Flannery. Flannery O’Connor: The Complete Stories. HarperPerennial Classics, 2015. eBook. 

O’Connor, Flannery. The Habit of Being: Letters of Flannery O’Connor. Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 1988.

O’Gorman, Farrell. Catholicism and American Borders in the Gothic Literary Imagination. University of Notre Dame Press, 2017.

O’Neil, Joseph. “Touched by Evil.” The Atlantic. 2009.

Reich, Paul and Russell, Emily. “Taking the Text on a Road Trip: Conducting a Literary Field Study.” Pedagogy, vol. 14, no. 3, Duke University Press, 2014, pp. 417-433.

Rice, Anne. “Forward.” The Metamorphosis and Other Stories, 1995. 

Robinson, Marilynne. “The Believer: Flannery O’Connor’s Prayer Journal.” The New York Times, 15 November 2023. 

Srigley, Susan. “The Violence of Love: Reflections on Self-Sacrifice through Flannery O’Connor and René Girard.” Religion & Literature, vol. 39, no. 3, The University of Notre Dame, 2007, pp. 31-45.

The Holy Bible: New Revised Standard Version. “Matthew 11:12.” Bible Gateway, 2023.

Williams, Joy. “Stranger Than Paradise: ‘A Life of Flannery O’Connor by Brad Gooch.” The New York Times. 26 February 2009.

#writing

[madscientist008]

Why I Love Critical Role and You Should Too

If you’re a fan of fantasy, adventure, comedy, drama, and role-playing games, then you should definitely check out Critical Role. It’s a web series that features a group of talented voice actors playing Dungeons & Dragons (D&D), a tabletop game where you create your own characters and stories. The show is hosted by Matthew Mercer, who acts as the Dungeon Master (DM) and guides the players through various quests and challenges in a rich and immersive world.

Critical Role has two main campaigns so far: Vox Machina and The Mighty Nein. Each campaign follows a different group of characters with their own backgrounds, personalities, goals, and relationships. The show is streamed live every Thursday on Twitch and YouTube, and each episode lasts for about three to four hours. You can also watch the episodes later on YouTube or listen to them as podcasts.

One of the best things about Critical Role is the amazing chemistry and friendship between the cast members. They are not only professional voice actors who have worked on many video games and animated shows, but also genuine fans of D&D who enjoy playing the game together. They improvise, joke, cry, laugh, and create memorable moments that make you feel like you’re part of their adventure. They also interact with their fans through social media, fan art, fan fiction, cosplay, etc.

Another great thing about Critical Role is the quality and diversity of the storytelling. The show features a mix of genres and themes, from epic battles and political intrigue to romance and comedy. The show also explores complex issues such as identity, morality, trauma, redemption, etc. The show is not scripted or planned in advance, so anything can happen and the stakes are real. The DM and the players collaborate to create a compelling and immersive narrative that keeps you hooked and invested.

Some of my favorite moments from Critical Role are:

The first time Vox Machina met Scanlan Shorthalt (Sam Riegel), a charismatic gnome bard who sang hilarious songs and flirted with everyone.

The battle against K’Varn (Matthew Mercer), an evil beholder who controlled an ancient city under a lake.

The confrontation between Vax’ildan (Liam O’Brien), a half-elf rogue who made a deal with the Raven Queen (Laura Bailey), a goddess of death.

The wedding of Percy (Taliesin Jaffe), a human gunslinger who sought revenge for his family’s murder, and Vex’ahlia (Laura Bailey), a half-elf ranger who loved nature and money.

The introduction of The Mighty Nein, a group of misfits and outcasts who met in a prison transport.

The encounter with Mollymauk Tealeaf (Taliesin Jaffe), a tiefling blood hunter who had a mysterious past and a colorful personality.

The rescue of Jester (Laura Bailey), a tiefling cleric who worshiped the Traveler (Matthew Mercer), a trickster god.

The infiltration of Nicodranas, a coastal city ruled by an oppressive lord.

The reunion of Caleb (Liam O’Brien), a human wizard who suffered from trauma and guilt, and Astrid (Matthew Mercer), his former friend and lover who became an agent of the Cerberus Assembly.

The showdown with Lucien (Matthew Mercer), a cult leader who sought to unleash an ancient evil.

These are just some examples of the many amazing moments that Critical Role has to offer. If you’re interested in watching or listening to the show, you can find all the episodes on their website or YouTube channel. You can also join their fan community on Tumblr, Twitter, Reddit, Discord, etc. You won’t regret it!

#CriticalRole #DungeonsAndDragons #TabletopGaming #VoiceActors #RolePlaying #Fantasy #Adventure #Comedy #Drama #WebSeries #madscientistwriting

[movies-to-add-to-your-tbw]

Title: Justice Society: World War II

Rating: PG-13

Director: Jeff Wamester

Cast: Stana Katic, Matt Bomer, Chris Diamantopoulos, Darren Criss, Elysia Rotaru, Omid Abtahi, Armen Taylor, Matthew Mercer, Liam McIntyre, Geoffrey Arend, Darin De Paul, Ashleigh LaThrop, Keith Ferguson

Release year: 2021

Genres: war, science fiction

Blurb: When the Flash finds himself dropped into the middle of World War II, he joins forces with Wonder Woman and her top-secret team, known as the Justice Society of America.

#justice society world war ii #pg13 #jeff wamester #stana katic #matt bomer #chris diamantopoulos #darren criss #elysia rotaru #2021 #war #science fiction

[ruvi-muffin]

Oh nooo the bad guy canonically has my same religious trauma

Bet he's having a rough life given gods are like Actually Real. Bitches. MATTHEW MERCER WHAT CHURCH WAS THIS I NEED TO KICK SOME FICTIONAL PRIEST ASS

#was this a trigger for me?? #likely #woops #that was a lot #me watching ep 44 of c3 like #LET ME IN LET ME TALK TO HIMMMM #bells hells should feel bad #critical role spoilers #muffin rambles #im scared and sad #cw religious abuse

[derry-rain]

affection prompts requests - askbox open

Ask Away - Requests for Prompts

Ok kids, as it's Valentine's Day, opening up my askbox to small (like 100-500 words) ficlets of kisses, romance and affectionate moments. Basically, put a ship in my askbox and I will write you an impromptu little fluffy moment for them (G to T rated nonsense). Can't guarantee they'll be fulfilled today, but over the course of the next little while, maybe to the end of the month, sure.

Fandoms:

The Terror, Band of Brothers, The Pacific, SAS Rogue Heroes, 1899, M*A*S*H, most flavours of Dimension 20, Critical Role, any flavour of Star Trek, Stranger Things, A League of Their Own, House of the Dragon... I mean, to be fair, anything you know I'm familiar with is probably up for grabs here.

I'm gonna say no RPF, but specifically mean that in the way that the RPF-adjacent fandoms above are based on the characters in the fictional media. (So Don Malarkey from BoB? Sure. Matthew Mercer from Critical Role? No).

What pairings can I request?

Any of 'em. Go for it. Doesn't have to be based in canon, or established in fandom. I love a good crackship. I won't write adult/underage or incest (well, HotD is an exception for the latter, we all know this).

OC's? x Reader?

If you want me to invent an OC, sure. I don't do x Reader.

How much detail do you want?

Drop just a fandom and a pairing if you like. You can write something more detailed too, but bear in mind, 100-500 words is not an awful lot of space.

Ask Away - Requests for Prompts

#derry: fic #the terror #sas rogue heroes #band of brothers #i'm not taggin all that #obvs i won't write anything i have a strong feeling against #but i'll not be mean about anything #now as a valentine treat to myself #i go watch goodbye farewell and amen